Beneath the grand mansion of Duke Ryuu Satoru lay an underground dungeon, a stark contrast to the elegance above. The dungeon was a grim place, filled with the scent of damp stone and the echoes of distant, anguished cries. Heavy iron bars lined the walls, each cell a small, dark pit where criminals and traitors awaited their fate. Chains hung from the ceilings, and torture devices stood ominously in the corners, ready to extract confessions from even the most stubborn prisoners.

Ryuu Satoru and his butler, Tanaka, descended a narrow, winding staircase into this shadowy underworld. As they reached the bottom, two guards in the distinctive crimson and black uniforms of the Satoru household stood at attention. Their faces were obscured by helmets adorned with the Satoru family crest—a fierce dragon's head.

The guards bowed deeply. “My lord,” one of them said, “the prisoner has not spoken yet.”

The duke's eyes narrowed. “Open the cage,” he commanded.

“Yes, my lord.” The guard quickly unlocked the heavy iron door, and the smell of sweat and blood wafted out. Inside, a man lay bound with heavy iron chains, his body marked by the brutal interrogation he had already endured. He wore only tattered shorts, his chest bare and covered in bruises and cuts.

The guard who had opened the door hurried to bring a chair for the duke. Ryuu waved it away. “No need,” he said. “Just open the cage.”

The guard nodded and complied, stepping aside as Ryuu and Tanaka entered the cell. Tanaka whispered to the guard to leave them, and the guard quickly exited, closing the door behind him.

Tanaka turned to Ryuu. “The guard is no longer here, my lord.”

Ryuu’s gaze remained fixed on the prisoner, who glared back with a mix of defiance and fear. “Good,” Ryuu said. “I don’t want anyone else hearing this conversation.”

Tanaka nodded and cast a soundproofing spell, ensuring their privacy. Satisfied, Ryuu approached the prisoner. “Now, you will answer my questions,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. “Why did you steal the Aurum Fortuna from the secret warehouse?”

The prisoner clenched his jaw and remained silent. Ryuu's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. “Tanaka,” he said.

Tanaka extended his hand, and a small flame ignited in his palm. He touched it to the prisoner’s left hand, burning it slowly. The prisoner screamed in agony. “Stop! Please, stop! I’ll talk!”

Ryuu raised a hand, and Tanaka extinguished the flame. “Good. Now, answer my question.”

“I don’t know!” the prisoner gasped, pain etched across his face.

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Ryuu’s expression darkened. “Tanaka.”

Once more, Tanaka ignited the flame, burning the prisoner’s hand. The man writhed and screamed. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! It was a strange man! He sent us!”

Ryuu signaled Tanaka to stop. “Describe this man.”

The prisoner opened his mouth to speak, but then his eyes widened in horror. He began to convulse, screaming, “It hurts! It hurts!”

Tanaka’s eyes widened in realization. “My lord—”

Before he could finish, the prisoner’s body exploded. Tanaka reacted quickly, casting a protective barrier around Ryuu and himself, but the prisoner was already gone, leaving only blood and fragments behind.

Tanaka deactivated the spell, revealing the gruesome scene. Ryuu clenched his fists in frustration. “Let’s leave,” he said curtly.

Tanaka made way for his lord to pass, following him closely. As they walked away, Ryuu’s mind raced with thoughts. Whoever the mastermind was, there was no doubt that this was connected to the incident involving his child and wife.

The Dark Alley

In another part of Ryuu’s nation, the village lay under a blanket of night. The cobblestone streets were dimly lit by flickering lanterns, casting eerie shadows on the worn wooden buildings. The village, usually bustling with activity during the day, now seemed almost ghostly, with the occasional creak of a wooden sign or the distant howl of a wolf breaking the silence. In a dark alley, hidden from the main road, the scene was even more foreboding. The narrow path was littered with debris, and the smell of damp and decay hung heavy in the air.

A man stumbled through the alley, his clothes tattered and his body covered in fresh wounds. He looked like a commoner, his face pale with fear and exhaustion. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead, and he clutched a worn bag tightly to his chest, as if it were his lifeline. His eyes darted around, filled with paranoia, as if he were being chased.

The man’s steps grew more unsteady, and he finally collapsed onto the ground, the bag spilling its contents beside him. He groaned, trying to push himself up, when he noticed a figure standing over him. A young boy with green hair and yellow eyes, his mouth revealing razor-sharp teeth, grinned down at him. The boy wore a brown jacket and blue trousers, a strange sight in the quiet alley. His smile was unsettling, a sharp contrast to the darkness around them.

The man scrambled back, his eyes wide with terror. "Who are you?" he shouted, his voice trembling.

The boy didn’t answer, just kept smiling. From the shadows, a man with a mask emerged. The mask bore a perpetual grin, and he was dressed in a formal yet dark attire, reminiscent of a butler, but far more sinister.

"You don’t need to be afraid," the masked man said, his voice calm and cold as he approached the terrified man.

The man’s fear turned to anger. "You! How could you leave us? You said you would protect us while we collected that damned ruin stone you wanted!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the alley.

The masked man paused, his eyes hidden but his tone patronizing. "I’m deeply sorry for what transpired," he said, his gaze shifting to the young boy who was licking his lips in anticipation. "I had my own issues to deal with."

The terrified man’s back hit a wall as he tried to escape. The boy’s glittering yellow eyes were fixed on him, unmoving.

"Hand over the bag," the masked man demanded, "and you’ll get your reward."

With trembling hands, the man handed over the bag. The masked man took it, inspecting the contents. "Thank you," he said, as the man nervously asked about his reward.

The masked man nodded to the young boy. "Kindly give our friend his reward."

The boy handed the man a small rock. Confused and scared, the man opened his hand to see the rock. He looked up, about to protest, but froze when he saw the boy gnawing on something that looked like a leg.

Pain shot through him as he realized his leg had been severed. Screaming, he tried to crawl away, but the boy pounced on him, breaking his back. The man’s screams were muffled by the darkness of the alley. The boy grabbed the man’s head, ready to rip it off, as the man begged for his life.

The masked man, uninterested in the chaos, inspected the bag's contents. "Stop," he said to the boy. "Eating his head will give you a stomach ache."

The boy, disappointed, tossed the head aside. The masked man turned, sensing another presence.

"We have an unwanted guest," he said.

From the shadows, Tanaka emerged. "Hand over the bag," he demanded.

"I can’t do that," the masked man replied, unfazed.

Tanaka raised his finger, preparing to cast a spell. The boy, sensing danger, lunged at Tanaka, but silver chains shot out, binding him to the ground. The masked man, seeing the situation deteriorate, prepared to teleport.

"We’ll meet again," he said, just before disappearing with the boy.

Tanaka, canceling his spell, looked at the spot where they vanished. He wondered who the masked man was and what his true intentions were.