Starry Days & Sunlit Nights: Volume 2 - Haze of Shadows

Prologue: Intent

Ryan stocked the shelves with drooping eyes.

He was tired.

For weeks now, the black-haired male with a dusky tan and olive eyes had been missing out on a good night's sleep, and it showed.

"Dude, I know a convenience store is supposed to be open 24/7, but that shouldn't mean you have to stay up that long," his male coworker with curly brown hair, Carson Davis, voiced his concern.

"Not to mention those heavy eye bags of yours are gonna scare customers," remarked Janice, the woman behind the cash register with long, black hair and skin like dark chocolate. "Too bad, a lot of girls come by just to see you."

"I thought I was the hot one, bae," Carson said jokingly.

"Only because some of us aren't into the brooding type," Janice replied coyly.

Carson chuckled. "Seriously though, Ryan, take a day off. Get some sleep. We can cover for you."

Ryan simply shook his head. For a long now, he had already accepted that his life would not allow such luxuries.

He glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty in the evening. Either way, his shift was more or less over. He headed over to the room marked "employees only" when a black van pulled up right in front of the convenience store. While it simply struck Carson and Janice as unusual, alarm bells rang in every corner of Ryan's mind.

"Get down!" he yelled decisively, prompting Carson to take cover behind the counter with Janice.

At the same time that four armed men filed out of the van, Ryan dove into the staff room and reached for the guitar case propped up close to the door. Ever since he had started bringing it to work in the past week, his colleagues always requested that he play a song for them, but such a thing was impossible, for inside his carefully-guarded case was not an instrument of music.

Kicking off the lock that kept the case shut, he pulled out the sword stashed within. The weapon was three-and-a-half feet in length and made of dark bronze. It was not elegant in design, resembling a plank of metal with a handle embedded in its lower side and a single edge running opposite to it.

Suppressed machinegun fire raged from outside the staffroom. The attackers shot randomly, unloading their bullets all over the place, ripping up snack packages, tearing through drink cartons, shattering bottles, and ruining shelves. Ryan could only hope that his coworkers were smart enough to stay down and not attract attention. He was aware that his enemies knew where he had gone and that their show of aggression was meant to intimidate him.

It would not work.

Grasping the cleaver sword with his right hand, Ryan ran his left palm over its edge to draw blood. The warm, red liquid oozed from the cut. He was committed to what he was about to do.

With his wounded left hand, he pulled up the sleeve over his right shoulder, revealing the tattoo of a lotus, perfectly symmetrical with fourteen pointed petals, and smeared his blood all over it in the same motion.

The lotus tattoo drank the essence of his body and glowed bright red. From it sprouted vines of black ink which creeped all over his right arm while rooting into his spinal column. He could feel the magic coursing through him, infusing itself into his entire being. The blood oath had been activated, the ritual was complete, all that was left was to put it to use.

The thugs reloaded their submachineguns in unison. Now was the time to show them what they were really dealing with.

Sword in hand, Ryan calmly stepped out of the staff room and walked right towards them. Four bullet hoses sprayed on him at full automatic. The unrelenting torrent of lead sliced through the air. Not a single one of them hit their mark.