Renjiro’s eyes flickered open as he returned to reality, the weight of the Inner Cellar still pressing on his thoughts.

Kazuki’s warning. Raizen’s taunt. Shirogane’s insight.

They had all seen something shifting within him. And they were right—this time, it was different.

He exhaled, stepping out into the night air. The city was alive with its usual chaos—neon lights reflecting off rain-slicked streets, voices rising and falling like waves in the distance. But something about the energy felt off tonight.

His senses sharpened.

Something—or someone—was nearby.

A presence. Cold. Calculated.

The Ghost.

Renjiro didn’t stop walking. Didn’t let on that he’d noticed. Instead, he moved at an unhurried pace, weaving through the streets, letting them follow. Letting them make their move.

And then—

The moment came.

A blade sliced through the air toward his throat.

Renjiro twisted, barely avoiding the strike. The steel whispered past his skin, close enough that he could feel the cold edge.

He countered instantly, his hand snapping forward to grab the wrist of his assailant—

But they were already gone.

A blur of motion, the sound of footsteps vanishing into the dark. Fast. Too fast.

Renjiro’s smirk returned. So they wanted to play tonight?

He closed his eyes for a brief second, feeling the lingering pulse of Koi energy in the air. A direction. A trail.

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Then he moved.

A Blade in the Dark: Part 2

The pursuit led him deeper, past the towering skyscrapers and crowded avenues, into the veins of the city itself—the underground tunnels, forgotten alleyways, places where no one would hear a fight break out.

Perfect.

Renjiro slowed his steps. The presence was here, close now. They had stopped running.

He turned a corner, stepping into an open clearing between two abandoned structures. The space was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of a flickering streetlight above.

And standing in the center of it all—

The Ghost.

They were poised, relaxed but ready, their masked face tilted slightly as if evaluating him.

Renjiro grinned. “Finally decided to stop running?”

No response.

Typical.

He took a step forward, testing them. They didn’t flinch.

Another step. Still nothing.

Then, in a blink, they struck.

A dagger flashed through the air, but this time, Renjiro was ready. He ducked, twisting his body just enough to evade before countering with a sharp strike toward their ribs.

His attack met empty air.

The Ghost had already moved, spinning gracefully, retaliating with a rapid flurry of blows. Each strike was precise, aimed for vital points, forcing Renjiro on the defensive. No wasted movements. No hesitation.

They were skilled. Incredibly so.

But Renjiro had lived a thousand lives.

And experience always won in the end.

He shifted his stance, catching their wrist mid-strike and twisting—just enough to force them off balance.

Their reaction was immediate. Instead of resisting, they flowed with the movement, using the momentum to flip backward, landing with effortless precision.

They slid back a step, staring at him in silence.

Renjiro smirked. “Not bad.”

A pause. Then, for the first time—

The Ghost spoke.

“You hesitate.”

Renjiro raised a brow. “Do I?”

The Ghost tilted their head slightly. “You should have gone for the kill.”

Renjiro’s smirk deepened. “If I had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Then, without another word, The Ghost vanished into the shadows.

Renjiro exhaled, running a hand through his hair. That was interesting.

They hadn’t been trying to kill him.

They had been testing him.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he turned to leave.

Whatever game this was, it was far from over.