𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞

6

Present (2018)

"In Tokyo, the conflict within a group named 'Bonten' intensifies as they continue to harm the public. Here is exclusive footage of Bonten and its members, at the FNN club—"

You turned off the TV, tossing the remote control on the couch without taking your eyes off the black screen as the lights in the interior floor were out, and only the long curtains were open.

For all what the reporter has reported in the news program, the content was regarding Bonten. A criminal syndicate feared by Japan.

The news had shown the exclusive footage of them promenading or marching in public. Without a name mentioned, they'd even shown its members.

And tell you what, you don't wanna get yourself involved with them. Ever. It is rather the matter that the police have been having a hard time obtaining information about their activities and the members themselves. Of course, policemen and detectives can be realistically naive.

"Your identity is still prancin' in the shadows. It should be nice." A voice said behind you, his footsteps stopped approaching.

"The job is done, Kuroitani-sama." Another informed behind in a formal suit while bowing. His white collar was sprayed with blood.

Not bothering to register the new one's presence, you hummed at the information leaving their lips.
What a nice way to put it.

"She loves the shadows and the shadows love her," the first man sighed at sight.

A smirk creeps up your lips built with a small chuckle under your breath.

"Does she?"

***

Rosy pink hair, long mullet that reaches to his shoulders, a man leaned back, dropping a drug pill into his mouth between hearing this irritating muffled screams of three men wetting their faces in terror, and blurting a gulp, he swallowed what he just consumed.

Sleeves worn up, a tattoo on his right forearm is exposed.

To their horror, their faces were as petrified as if they were about to shit their pants as each of them had a cloth wrapped around their mouths.

This was the source of the noise that's been going on for a while in a warehouse full of fish.

And for all this loud walking drug consumer's behavior, Sanzu's the one to get them down on their knees. A pistol in his possession, he'd swore this thing is what makes them produce more tears just to wet their poor asses in trouble.

These three were caught in the act. They were ready to leak intel to the police, but it's no surprise Sanzu was ready to kill them without the precedence of mercy to begin with.

"Bring down Bonten's hammer of judgment on the traitors!"

Once he declared this outrightly, it made the noise even longer. That, it irritated your ears. You'd go ahead and pull your gun and kill them already, but this was Sanzu's orchestra performance.

Orchestra performance of murder.
Private, actually.

Or more of a VIP stage with an audience of criminals.

The floor was smudged with dirt and all bloody as hell. And near this loud performer was a set of knives, pliers, a screwdriver, and a huge looking axe placed on a go-cart rolling desk.
As the tied men struggled to speak through their gags, "Shush, shush, shush!!!" Peering closer, Sanzu shushed them. "Pay attention to Mikey's words."

Black shirt paired with black pants, white haired, this guy is busy munching on his taiyaki with his back turned away as he's angel-seated on a smaller cage of a pile of dead fishes.