Blackhole - Neglected

Volume 1 - 001

ONE YEAR LATER...

Dairiten, I will kill them all. And I won't leave a single one alive.

I grabbed my knife and plunged it into the last member of Dairiten standing before me today.

"Tsk! Weakhead," I muttered, stepping out of the alley. I almost collided with a man casually strolling by.

He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a white long-sleeve shirt and a black necktie, the suit unbuttoned and his sleeves slightly rolled up to his elbows. A long coat draped over his shoulders, reaching down to his knees.

"What the heck is with the outfit?" I muttered to myself as I looked him over.

I chuckled at the absurdity. The Mafia Dairiten must be desperate to send a kid to bait me.

I sprinted toward him and delivered a powerful kick. The look of shock in his eyes was almost satisfying as he flew to the end of the alley. I walked up to him and stepped on his chest.

"Pathetic," I whispered, glaring down at him. "The Mafia Dairiten is so obsessed with people. They even sent me a boy." I grimaced and laughed.

"I'm not a boy," he whispered, meeting my gaze.

"Tsk! A boy or not, you're still going to die. So, I'll give you two options: die now or die after you tell me what I need to know?" I demanded, pressing my foot harder on his chest.

"Kill me if you can do it in a painless way," he said indifferently, letting out a sigh as he stared off into the distance.

What the hell.

I frowned at his demeanor. He looked like a kid who wouldn't last long on this planet. Depressed?

I scowled at him, slightly furrowing my brow. "What are you? A suicidal brat?"

"You're a brat too," he shot back.

"I'm not just a brat! I'm different from you!" I snapped.

I was genuinely annoyed by him. If I didn't need information from him, I'd kill him on the spot. His lack of concern only added to my irritation.

I kicked his face twice and stomped on his chest again. I watched as he coughed up blood, his eyepatch slowly staining red. "Don't play with my height."

"I hate pain, you know?" he said in a flat, detached tone.

Why does he talk like that? He sounds like a child forced to speak by his parents to get what he wants.

"Oh, I don't care!" I shouted. "Give me what I need. Who started the war?" I demanded.

He smirked and shrugged. "Dairiten?"

"Dairiten? Dai-freaking-riten? You're not even sure because you put a question mark at the end!" I said, frustrated.

Before I could kick him again, he grabbed my foot with his hand. My eyes widened in surprise. He smirked, and with surprising strength, he threw me down, forcing me onto my back.

From now on, I will remember that smirk. It can harm people.

I glared at him as he stood up and adjusted his tuxedo. Why is he wearing a tuxedo without any occasion? Oh, right—Mafia Dairiten dress code.

"When I say I hate pain, I really mean it, so don't hurt me again—" he didn't finish his sentence before I kicked him in the groin.

He blocked the kick with his arm, grimacing from the force. Take that, asshole.

"How could you?" he muttered, glaring at me with intense hatred.

I stood up and laughed. "You can't scare me with that look. You only have one eye, you know that?" I taunted, mimicking his eyepatch with my hand.