Chapter 3: The Shadowed One

Ray woke up early the next morning, the sunlight filtering through the small window of his new room. His heart still raced from everything that had happened the night before, but there was no time to dwell on it. Today marked the start of his new life under SAAHO's protection, and he was now living with Kaizen, a man known as "The Shadowed One."

Kaizen wasn’t a cruel man by nature. To his allies, he was the embodiment of strength, a man with an unwavering devotion to his family and his comrades. But to the criminals he hunted, Kaizen was a nightmare. His methods were unforgiving, his justice brutal and merciless. He tortured those who crossed the line, ensuring his targets suffered before their inevitable deaths. At times, he even went so far as to kill their families—an act he justified in the name of justice.

Kaizen's arsenal was as fearsome as his reputation. His primary weapons were two double-barrel sawed-off shotguns, tools of devastation he wielded with ruthless precision. His secondary weapon, a heavy axe, was no less intimidating, its blade honed to slice through any obstacle in his path.

Despite the darkness that consumed his professional life, Kaizen was a man of contrasts. He was not born into strength. At one point in his life, he had been severely overweight, tipping the scales at 70 pounds above a healthy weight. In fact, he had once been classified as clinically obese. His stamina was poor, and his physical capabilities were limited. But his mental fortitude had always been a different story. Even in his heavier days, he had managed to excel in his line of work, performing the brutal tasks assigned to him with chilling efficiency.

Kaizen's motivation wasn’t just his career—it was his family. At a young age, he had witnessed the tragic loss of his father when he was just 15, leaving him and his mother to fend for themselves. But the real devastation had come when his younger brother, Aiden, had died from pesticide intoxication while working at the farm where they lived. These tragedies had shaped Kaizen into the ruthless killer he was today. His worldview, shaped by loss and rejection, had made him an advocate for "absolute justice"—the harsh, unforgiving ideology that governed his actions under SAAHO.

Kaizen had been bullied relentlessly as a child, both by his peers and by the female students who looked down on him for being different. His struggles were compounded by his dyslexia, which made it hard for him to fit in with the rest of his classmates. Despite all his internal battles, he pushed forward. His life had been one of survival, and his moral compass was forged in the fires of his suffering.

At night, when his work was done, Kaizen returned home, often arriving late, around 10 p.m. His heart was heavy, burdened by the guilt of being absent from his family. As a killer by night, he was a father and husband by day, and the duality of his existence weighed on him more than anyone knew. He couldn’t escape the feeling that, despite his best efforts, he was missing out on precious time with his loved ones.

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One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, Kaizen stood in the doorway of his son’s room, looking at Jason, his young boy who was already fast asleep. His eyes softened as he stepped inside. He knew his job had caused a rift between him and his family.

“Jason?” Kaizen asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jason stirred, his eyes blinking open. “Yes, Dad?” he responded, his voice sleepy but steady.

Kaizen sat down beside his son, his large hand brushing through Jason’s messy hair. “I’m sorry, Jay,” he began, his voice low but filled with regret. “I know I’ve been absent. I’ve been away more than I should, and it’s hard on you and your mom. But I want you to know, I’m here now. And I want to spend as much time as I can with you, even if it’s just for a little while.”

Jason yawned, a small smile tugging at his lips as he hugged his father tightly. “I understand, Dad. Your job... it keeps you busy,” he said, trying to reassure Kaizen. “You’re doing it for us.”

Kaizen’s heart tightened as he held his son close. “I’m sorry, Jason. I should be more present in your life. I should be there for the important moments, for the little things... for both you and your mother. I love you both more than anything. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy, to keep you safe and alive.”

Jason squeezed him back, sensing the weight in his father’s words. He didn’t fully understand the darkness that Kaizen carried with him every night, but he knew that the man who stood before him was his father—the one who cared, the one who provided, the one who fought for his family’s future. Kaizen had always made sure to be there for Jason in every way that mattered, attending every school event, making sure he was there for birthdays and family dinners. Despite the bloodshed and brutality of his nightly work, Kaizen was a loving father, and his family was everything to him.

Outside the family dynamic, Kaizen was well-liked by the people around him. He kept to himself mostly, but his likable personality, coupled with his tolerance and understanding, made him a respected figure in the neighborhood. He wasn’t just the killer that everyone feared—he was the man who helped the elderly neighbor with groceries, the man who spoke with kindness to children, the one who quietly listened when others needed someone to talk to.

But beneath the surface, there was always the Shadowed One. The cold, calculated assassin who lurked in the darkness, ready to strike down any who crossed the line. As Kaizen kissed his son’s forehead and tucked him in, he couldn’t help but wonder if this life was worth the cost. He couldn’t change what he had done, and he couldn’t erase the scars from his past. But he could make sure his family had a future—one that would be free from the suffering he had known.

For now, that was enough.

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"I, for the one who has no eyelids and no normal face, being my split mouth ear to ear in a cruel smile, with no eyelids, my enemies always see one thing: the reflection of their death in my eyes when I unload my shotgun into their skulls. Or the crushing force of my mason axe. For I, Kaizen, am the symbol of absolute justice, representing justice in its absolute form." —Kaizen Hawks