Rikuya walked through the port, his gaze fixed on the two pirates standing ahead, their grins barely visible beneath the shadows of their hoods.
"Here he comes," one of them chuckled, a mocking tone in his voice.
Rikuya's eyes narrowed, his expression turning cold and unreadable. He stepped forward, each footfall heavy with purpose.
The pirates barely had time to react. In a blur of movement, Rikuya closed the gap, his hand shooting out like a serpent. He grabbed one of the pirates by the neck, pulling him back into a tight headlock. The pirate's eyes widened in shock, but Rikuya didn't give him a moment to react further.
Rikuya's arm wrapped around the pirate's neck, his grip tightening, cutting off air and blood. The pirate struggled, clawing at Rikuya's arm, but it was futile. Rikuya's body pressed against his, each movement precise and calculated, leaving no room for escape.
The second pirate drew his weapon, but Rikuya moved too fast—his leg sweeping behind the first pirate's knees, sending him off balance. With a brutal twist, Rikuya tightened his grip. The pirate's struggles grew weaker, and Rikuya applied even more pressure.
With one final, savage twist, Rikuya snapped the pirate's neck, his body going limp in his arms.
Without a word, Rikuya turned to the second pirate, his eyes burning with cold fury.
"You're next."
The second pirate barely had time to blink.
Rikuya dashed forward like a storm unchained—his muscles tensed, his eyes wide with bloodshot fury, lips curled in a silent snarl. He closed the distance with terrifying speed and grabbed the pirate by the torso, hoisting him into the air like dead weight.
The pirate shouted in panic—but it was too late.
Rikuya twisted mid-motion, a spinning surge of raw power and wrath. And then—
CRACK.
He slammed the pirate down, neck-first, into the cold, uneven stone of the dock.
The sound was sickening. The pirate's spine folded unnaturally beneath him, his body snapping like brittle wood. No scream. No breath. Just silence.
The pirate's corpse collapsed limp, eyes wide open in terror, already gone.
Rikuya stood above him, breathing hard, fists still clenched.
He didn't speak.
He didn't have to.
His fury spoke for him—the kind of rage born from broken peace, from stolen kindness.
And someone was going to pay.
The crash of a body against the dock echoed like thunder.
And then — shouting. Dozens of boots pounding against wooden floors.
One by one, pirates flooded out of the warehouse, blades drawn, axes in hand, snarling like a pack of wolves.
"There he is!"
"He just killed Darnel—get him!"
Thirty men. Armed to the teeth. Ready to tear him apart.
Rikuya didn't flinch.
He exhaled slowly, steam rising from his breath. The veins in his arms bulged, muscles coiled like steel cables under his skin. The bandages on his forearms stained faintly red where they pulled tight against the rage in his blood.
Then he moved.
The first pirate lunged, swinging a rusted cutlass.
CLANG—
The blade shattered against Rikuya's shoulder.
He didn't dodge.
He let it hit.
It didn't matter.
His body didn't bend. It broke weapons.
Before the attacker could recoil, Rikuya gripped the pirate's head and slammed it into his knee—a sickening crunch of bone and teeth. The man crumpled, blood spraying across the dock.
Another pirate came from the side with a heavy axe.
Rikuya caught it.
With his bare hand.
The axehead cracked. Then Rikuya yanked the man forward and drove his elbow into the pirate's throat, crushing the windpipe instantly. A savage kick sent the corpse tumbling into the bay.
Three more tried to surround him.
Rikuya ducked low and spun, sweeping their legs with a powerful twist. As they collapsed midair, he caught one by the ankles and used the man's body as a weapon, slamming him into the others like a cannonball of flesh and bone.
Bones snapped. Skulls cracked. Screams echoed.
A hammer crashed down on his back.
It broke. Just broke.
Rikuya turned, eyes glowing with cold fury, and grabbed the attacker by the face, lifting him off the ground with one hand and slamming him through a wooden crate, sending splinters flying in every direction.
Another pirate screamed and tried to run.
Rikuya grabbed him by the spine and twisted.
The scream stopped halfway.
His rage was absolute.
He moved like a storm — no hesitation, no mercy. Every movement was calculated destruction. Every strike ended a life. Arms twisted backward, ribs shattered, skulls split open by the pavement as Rikuya used the terrain, the weapons, even corpses to chain his fury into a continuous slaughter.
Some tried to team up. Six pirates came at him at once, yelling in desperation.
He rushed into them like a beast, shoulder-first, and barreled through the formation, sending bodies flying. One man screamed as Rikuya snapped his neck midair, his grip like a vice.
Another pirate slashed his back with a jagged saber.
Rikuya didn't react.
He turned slowly, blood dripping down his back—not his.
The attacker tried to run, but Rikuya was already there. A bone-cracking spinning knee crushed the pirate's ribs inward. He dropped, gurgling.
They kept coming. They couldn't stop.
But nothing stopped him.
He wasn't fighting. He was erasing.
By the end, the dock was painted in blood. Shattered weapons and broken bodies lay scattered like wreckage after a storm.
Rikuya stood alone. Shirt torn, muscles trembling from the surge. Chest heaving, fists still clenched.
And in his eyes—only wrath.
Only vengeance.
And it wasn't over yet.
The wind whispered across the blood-soaked dock.
Bodies twitched. Some groaned. Most didn't move at all.
Then—tap, tap, tap.
Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the alley beyond the crates.
Rikuya turned, the rage in his chest still burning like wildfire.
A shadow peeled away from the gloom, casual and quiet.
The man was thin, wiry—skin weathered like old leather. He wore a patched-up long coat with one sleeve torn at the elbow, and a lazy smirk carved into his face like it was born there. His teeth gnawed on a twig or bone, clicking as he chewed.
Twin curved daggers glinted at his sides.
Grin had arrived.
"Daaaaamn," he drawled, stepping lightly over the corpses, unconcerned. "Look at this mess. Someone's been busy."
He crouched beside one of the broken pirates, nudged the body with his blade, then stood again—unfazed.
Rikuya said nothing. His muscles tensed. Blood still dripped from his knuckles.
Grin didn't blink.
"You're him, huh? The wild dog they warned us about," he muttered, twirling a dagger with one hand while the other reached up to adjust the bone between his teeth. "Didn't think you'd be this pretty though. All muscle and murder."
The smirk widened.
"But I gotta say…" click — one dagger snapped to readiness. Click — then the second. "I like pretty things that bleed."
Grin's feet shifted. A blade danced.
The real fight was just about to begin.
Grin moved first—fast, too fast for a normal man.
A blur of steel slashed for Rikuya's throat.
But Rikuya tilted—just enough. The blade kissed wind.
The second dagger came in low, aiming to gut. Rikuya caught it. With his bare hand.
Grin's eyes widened. "The hell—?"
Crack.
Rikuya crushed the blade in his grip, metal bending with a shriek. His other hand pistoned forward—a punch that hit Grin square in the chest.
The impact was thunder.
Grin flew backward, slammed into a barrel, wood exploding behind him. He coughed hard, the twig falling from his mouth.
But he grinned wider.
"Not bad... Not bad at all."
He flipped up, blood trickling from his lip. "Guess I gotta try harder."
He dashed in again, daggers flashing like fangs.
Rikuya didn't dodge.
He walked forward into the flurry.
The blades scraped skin, sparked off muscle—but didn't cut deep. Not enough.
One blade aimed for his eye—
Rikuya caught his wrist.
A twisting grip. Snap. Grin screamed as bone cracked, his dagger clattering to the dock.
Rikuya's fist rose, slammed down on Grin's shoulder—dislocating it with a crunch.
Another punch—to the gut. Grin folded, spit flying from his mouth.
Rikuya grabbed his collar, lifted him one-handed, his voice like gravel dragged over stone:
"You like pretty things that bleed?"
He smashed Grin face-first into a post.
"Good."
Crack.
"Then I'll make you bleed beautifully."
He slammed him again, this time into the ground. Dust exploded. Blood sprayed from Grin's nose.
But still... still the pirate laughed—gurgling, coughing, but laughing.
"You're... pissed. Heh... good. Makes it more fun when I gut your friends."
Rikuya's eyes darkened like a storm. His jaw clenched, vein bulging.
He didn't say a word.
He just pulled Grin up again—
And the punishment continued.
Grin staggered, bloodied, one arm hanging useless. He tried to crawl back, laughter replaced now with wheezing panic.
Rikuya walked through the smoke and broken bodies like death made flesh—silent, unstoppable.
He reached down and clamped his hand around Grin's throat.
The sound was disgusting—cartilage crunching under the crushing pressure of his grip.
Grin's eyes bulged. He tried to pull away, to slice, to scream—but nothing escaped his throat.
Rikuya didn't flinch.
He jumped.
With Grin in his grasp, Rikuya spun mid-air, torque building in a cyclone of rage. The world blurred—dock, sky, firelight, all a vortex around his motion.
Then—
SLAM.
The earth shattered as Grin's body was driven into the ground like a meteor.
But Rikuya wasn't done.
He lifted the limp form again, arms flexing, muscles bulging beneath the blood-smeared bandages.
He bent Grin across his knee in a sickening arch, the pirate's back forming an impossible curve.
Crack.
Twist.
With one savage movement, Rikuya twisted Grin's body and yanked his neck sideways—the sound of a spine snapping, vertebrae shattering like brittle wood.
Grin's body went limp.
Rikuya let him drop like trash.
He stood there a moment, chest heaving, jaw clenched, eyes blazing like a wildfire.
One word left his lips—low, growled, deadly:
"Next."
Rikuya stood amid the wreckage of bodies, blood trickling down his forearm where his own fists had torn skin. The wind off the port carried the stench of salt, sweat, and steel. Silence reigned—until the click of boots echoed through the broken dock.
She emerged like a shadow kissed by fire.
Seline. Crimson Gale.
Crimson hair like a storm-touched flame. Eyes sharp, calculating. Her coat swayed, the metal glint of hidden weapons catching the dying light.
But she paused.
Because of him.
Rikuya turned his head slowly. The moment their eyes met, everything else vanished.
His gaze was not just a glare. It was a promise of death.
His lips parted, blood still smeared across them.
"Your boss sent thieves to steal light from my world... I'll send back corpses until he drowns in them."
Then—
His knees bent. Muscles coiled.
And with an inhuman burst, he launched forward—straight at her, the wind howling in his wake.
His presence radiated such unfiltered rage that her hand hovered an inch from her weapon, purely by instinct.
Rikuya didn't move. He stared her down like death given form.
"You with them?" he growled, voice low, thick with restrained fury. "Tell me now… so I know whether to leave a corpse or a witness."
Seline hesitated. But her silence was answer enough.
Rikuya took a step forward, every muscle in his body twitching with murderous intent.
"Your boss made the mistake of touching something that mattered to me," he said, voice deepening, darkening. "So I'm gonna repay him—in bones, screams, and ash. One broken breath at a time."