Just the night before…
"So… when do we start?"
The room was dimly lit by a single hanging lantern, its warm glow flickering across the tense faces of Vito, Tatsumi, Gauri, and Genco. They sat around a worn wooden table, each man lost in his own thoughts as they considered the looming threat of Janis.
"We will do it tomorrow, when the sun dawns over the capital," Vito said with finality, breaking the silence. His voice was calm but resolute, leaving no room for argument. He leaned forward, eyes locking with Gauri's.
"Gauri. You'll meet up with him. Give him 200 silver coins each. No more, no less."
Gauri nodded slowly, processing the instructions. But it was Genco who voiced the unease in the room.
"You're serious? Vito, if he wants half, then he means it. Janis doesn't bluff. If we short him, there could be hell to pay."
"Genco, you don't have to worry. I'll take care of everything." Vito's tone was steady, confident. He didn't blink. The kind of calm that unsettled more than it reassured. Then, turning his attention back to Gauri, he continued.
"Like I said, meet with him and bring 200 silver. No deviation. Tatsumi will be on overwatch, keeping an eye on everything from the rooftops."
"Why me?" Tatsumi asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"Because you're the nimbler one of the quartet," Vito replied. "You move quietly, unseen. If the transaction goes smoothly and Janis accepts the money without issue, Gauri will give you the signal from above."
There was a long pause as everyone considered the implications.
"And once he does… you know what to do."
Genco sighed deeply, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're not just making oil anymore, are we?"
"No," Vito answered, flicking ash into a chipped tray. "It's more than that. We're staking our place in this city."
The room fell into a heavy silence. The kind that weighed down on the chest. Each man understood what the plan entailed—what the signal would mean. There would be no turning back once that moment arrived. Not for any of them.
Present day…
Standing on a rooftop overlooking the bustling marketplace, Tatsumi focused his eyes on the coffee shop Janis and Gauri had entered. The morning sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets, but his gaze was unwavering, fixed on the door below. His thoughts lingered not just on the mission, but on the consequences.
If we manage to kill Janis, no doubt every Imperial Guard is going to scour the city looking for the culprit... Unless...
He scanned the capital with narrowed eyes, the city sprawling out like a living thing, hiding both beauty and rot. He thought back on everything that had happened since the day he first stepped foot into this place:
His friends' murders at the hands of a cruel noble…
The Imperial Guards extorting Genco for so-called "protection" fees…
The starving, homeless children they had taken in and sheltered…
The bandits they killed, not for glory, but to keep those children safe...
And now, this job.
The weight of it all pressed down on him like the stones beneath his feet. It made Tatsumi question everything he had once believed. Was the Empire even worth protecting anymore?
He remembered Vito's words to Genco—clear, deliberate:
"We're staking our place in this city."
There had been something in Vito's tone, something that hinted at deeper motives. Deep down, Tatsumi suspected that Vito understood the corruption that lay beneath the Empire's polished surface. He saw it not as a system to serve, but one to survive—or perhaps even change.
That suspicion grew into curiosity. Vito hadn't just shared a plan; he'd shared a vision. Not just for their corner of the slums, but maybe for the Empire itself. Was this vengeance... or revolution?
What kind of person are you, Vito Corleone?
His thoughts were cut short the moment Janis exited the coffee shop. He moved with deliberate calm, unaware of the eyes above. A moment later, Gauri followed, gazing up at Tatsumi and locking eyes with him before giving a subtle nod.
It's the signal.
Wasting no time, Tatsumi made his move. He immediately stood up and began tailing Janis from the other side, hopping from one rooftop to another. The morning breeze tugged at his cloak as he leapt over alleys and terraces, keeping low and quiet.
By the time he arrived at a curve, he saw something that made him tense; on the other side of the building was a young woman with long black hair, crimson eyes, and a sailor uniform, her gaze sweeping the streets like a predator seeking prey.
Akame?
He froze in place, double-checked to make sure. There was no mistaking her. It was the infamous assassin from Night Raid.
What is she doing here? Wait—
He looked back at the streets, eyes narrowing on Janis, who was meandering casually through the crowd.
But Janis wasn't the one he needed to watch now. Tatsumi shifted focus, scanning the crowd for anomalies. Someone stealthy. Someone who didn't belong.
Then he spotted him.
A young man with green hair, dressed in a dark green jacket with a fur-trimmed hood. His stance was too calculated, his eyes too focused. He wasn't browsing the market—he was tracking.
That's the guy from Night Raid... the one from the Aria mansion attack. There's no doubt about it. Night Raid is here. But who are they after?
His eyes flicked back to Janis, who was casually buying a bracelet from a vendor. Then, movement.
A voluptuous woman with blonde hair, approaching from the other side of the street.
Leone?...
She's too close to Janis. Akame is nearby. That guy is tracking someone. Then that means...
Tatsumi's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening.
Night Raid is targeting Janis too.
Damn it... there's no time to waste.
He needed to improvise. He couldn't afford to be seen. He couldn't let Night Raid take the shot.
Tatsumi descended swiftly from the rooftops and landed silently in the alley below, melting into the shadows. Every second counted. Moving quickly, he navigated through the crowd until he came across a vendor's clothing stand. Without hesitation, he bought a simple linen shirt and trousers in washed-out earth tones, a nondescript outer coat with minimal embroidery, a wool scarf to obscure his features, and a utility pouch slung cross-body.
"Blend in. Vanish. Don't look like a fighter," he reminded himself as he moved.
He ducked into an abandoned alley and carefully placed his pistol atop a garbage can, wrapping the barrel in cloth. Piece by piece, he stripped off his regular clothes and dressed in the new, inconspicuous outfit. As he wrapped the scarf around his head, he noticed a homeless man nearby, shivering in ragged garments.
Tatsumi stepped over and handed the man his discarded attire. "Here. Might help you stay warm," he said quietly.
Disguised, he stepped back into the street and resumed tailing Janis. Minutes passed as he kept a steady pace, maintaining distance while watching every corner, every shadow.
This is insane... Working against Night Raid? I never imagined this, he thought.
But what choice do I have? If they kill Janis now, everything Vito planned falls apart. And maybe... maybe the slums lose their only hope.
Eventually, they reached a modest apartment building tucked between dull storefronts. Tatsumi spotted Lubbock and Leone positioned casually but strategically.
They're in place. Damn it. I'm running out of time.
He quickly turned left into a narrow alleyway two buildings down, then ducked right, emerging behind the apartment. He scanned the area. No one had followed.
With a steadying breath, he slipped inside through a backdoor, weaving carefully past the residents. Each creaking floorboard made his heart pound. But fortune held—he managed to get by Lubbock and Leone unnoticed.
So far, so good, Tatsumi thought, hand brushing against the pistol in his pocket.
But this is the part where everything can go wrong. One misstep, and it's over.
The backdoor clicked shut behind him. The real challenge was just beginning.
Inside, he quietly took the escape stairs, his steps gentle.
By the time he reached the third floor, the hallway flickered dimly with weak lantern light. There, at the far end, Janis stood at his apartment door, keys in hand.
A gust of wind passed through a broken window, causing the lantern behind Tatsumi to flare brighter for a moment—just enough to cast his elongated shadow down the corridor.
Janis turned at the movement. "Huh... What you got there?" he asked, his tone more curious than alarmed.
Tatsumi didn't speak. He took a few steps forward and raised his hand—the cloth-wrapped pistol pointed at Janis.
He pulled the trigger.
The first shot hit center mass, right in Janis's chest. Blood bloomed into his shirt, and in stunned disbelief, Janis tore open the fabric to see the crimson soaking through.
"You shot me?" he gasped.
Another shot rang out. This one struck his right cheek, jerking his head to the side. He staggered, dazed. For thirty long seconds, Janis simply stood there, blinking, trying to process what was happening. Then his knees buckled, and he collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor.
The cloth wrapping the pistol suddenly caught fire, smoke curling from the barrel. Tatsumi flung it aside with a hiss and stepped toward the dying man.
No hesitation.
He pressed the gun to Janis's mouth. One final pull of the trigger.
The body slumped still.
"Well... there's that," Tatsumi thought, his breath catching for a second. He glanced around the dim hallway, listening.
He bent down and retrieved the silver coins Gauri had given him.
But then—
A sound.
From the other side of the apartment door.
Someone was inside.
Tatsumi immediately rushed towards the room, heart pounding, the adrenaline still hot in his veins. But when he burst through the door, he found it empty—no figure lurking, no enemy waiting in the shadows. Just scattered receipts, a ledger, and the oppressive silence.
His eyes scanned the room with quick, trained movements. The window was left open. That in itself was odd—no one in their right mind left a window open in this part of the capital. Not unless they were leaving in a hurry… or had a habit of slipping away unnoticed.
Akame…., Tatsumi thought. The name echoed like a whisper in his mind. If anyone had been watching from within, it had to be her.
He stepped further inside, boots crunching on loose parchment. With Night Raid's kill cut short, he suspected their mission had been compromised—at least, for now. But he also knew the Empire wouldn't shed a single tear for a lowborn fraud like Janis.
His gaze fell on the ledger. He flipped through its pages, eyes narrowing at the columns of names, dates, and amounts. Nobles. Merchants. Imperial officials. All linked to Janis's schemes.
"This isn't just blackmail material… this is a damn roadmap to corruption," he muttered to himself.
Vito-san will know what to do with this. He always does.
He walked over to the small safe nestled in the closet wall. The lock was crude—Janis never expected anyone to get this far. A few swift pries with the butt of his knife, and the door creaked open.
Gold gleamed back at him. Not just coins, but tiny ingots and a few jewels—scammed wealth, bled dry from the poor.
Tatsumi's expression darkened.
"How many lives did you squeeze to get this? How many families went hungry while you got fat off their backs?"
He swept every bit of it into his pouch, ignoring the weight. He'd carry it. He had to.
His eyes settled on the pistol. The cloth wrap still bore scorched marks from the earlier fire. With practiced hands, he disassembled it, removing the slide, the barrel, the magazine. Each part was wrapped in a thick piece of cloth he had stashed in his coat.
Can't leave a trace. Not a screw, not a fingerprint.
He tied the makeshift bag tight and slung it across his back. Then he took one last look around the apartment—the crime scene, the evidence, the ruin.
"This city rots from the inside," he thought bitterly. "But maybe… just maybe… we can carve out something better."
With that, he turned and slipped out the door, ledger in one hand, vengeance in his heart.
Akame had already rushed outside the apartment through the window, hopping from roof to roof until she reached the forest; the sight of the Capital was far from her reach.
Their mission failed… somehow.
The air was crisp and quiet in the open woods, the scent of pine and damp earth a stark contrast to the rot and smoke of the city. Akame stood motionless on a branch, eyes locked on the horizon, as if willing herself to understand what had just occurred.
Lubbock and Leone caught up to her, their steps light but urgent, the tension thick between them.
"Akame, what just happened? We heard a shot—" Leone asked, panting slightly.
Akame turned to them, her expression as unreadable as ever. "Someone killed him… Janis."
Lubbock frowned. "But it wasn't us? You didn't—"
She shook her head once, sharply. "No. Someone else got to him first."
Leone blinked. "But how? We've been tracking him for weeks. No one else knew."
"Someone knew enough," Akame replied. Her voice was even, but her hand had not left the hilt of her sword since they stopped.
She glanced back toward the distant skyline of the Capital.
"Whoever it was… they're not just some street killer. They knew who he was. And they moved with purpose."
Lubbock exchanged a look with Leone. "You think it's the same people who hit Aria?"
"Could be," Leone muttered. "There's a storm brewing in the city. Someone's making moves."
Akame narrowed her eyes. "Then we find out who. Before they become a problem for us."
She stepped off the branch, landing silently on the forest floor. The others followed, the gravity of the night's failure following close behind them.
Whatever alliance or enemy had just revealed themselves, one thing was certain:
Night Raid was no longer the only hand in the shadows.