THE FIRST TIME KAITO RENJI DIED, HE LAUGHED.
THE SECOND TIME, HE DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE.
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Blood splattered across the underground fight cage as Kaito grinned, wiping his busted lip with the back of his hand. His opponent lay unconscious, face buried in the metal floor, while the roaring crowd banged on the bars, demanding more violence. The air was thick with sweat, beer, and the scent of cheap cigars. Neon lights flickered overhead, their hum blending into the howls of gamblers and drunkards alike.
Kaito turned to them, arms wide, the adrenaline still rushing through his veins. “Come on! Is that all you got?” he shouted, his wild silver hair damp with sweat. His red eyes gleamed with challenge, daring someone—anyone—to step into the cage and give him a real fight.
The referee hesitated before announcing his victory, but it didn’t matter. Kaito already knew how this was going to end. The underground syndicate wasn’t going to let him walk away after his 100th consecutive win. He’d pissed off too many important people. He could almost hear their conversations behind the scenes—
“We can’t let a street rat make fools of us.”
“He’s become a problem.”
“Make it look like an accident.”
Yeah. He wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t care.
The first bullet hit his chest. The second tore through his skull.
And then—
Nothing.
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He woke up in a place that shouldn’t exist.
At first, he thought it was some messed-up dream. The world around him was drenched in shadows, an endless expanse of mist that swallowed everything in sight. The ground beneath him felt both solid and nonexistent, as if he was standing on the very concept of emptiness itself. His breath came out in short gasps, but there was no air—only a heavy, oppressive force pressing down on him, as if the void itself was watching.
Well, shit.
Then he heard it.
A scream.
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Celeste Nocturne had spent her entire life running from death.
When she was born, the church declared her a cursed child, a harbinger of calamity. Black veins twisted across her pale skin like living tattoos, a mark of the forgotten god’s wrath. Every step she took was followed by whispers. Every time she slept, she dreamt of hands reaching from the dark.
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Tonight, the hands finally found her.
She awoke to suffocating silence, her body floating in an abyss where the sky bled ink. The air smelled of burnt flesh and forgotten prayers. Around her, hundreds of lifeless figures drifted, their eyes hollow, mouths frozen in eternal screams. Some of them looked fresh, their bodies still bearing the wounds that had killed them. Others had decomposed past the point of recognition, skeletal remains floating like discarded puppets.
Then, something grabbed her ankle.
Celeste choked back a cry as she looked down—a skeletal figure clung to her, its grin impossibly wide, empty sockets locked onto her like twin black holes.
“Welcome,” it rasped. “You died beautifully.”
It wasn’t alone.
More of them emerged from the darkness, their bones clicking, their fingers stretching toward her with unnatural hunger. Shadows coiled around them like living parasites, whispering words she didn’t understand but somehow felt deep in her bones.
She tried to run, but the weight of death itself pulled her down.
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Kaito sat up with a groan, rubbing his forehead. “Okay… this is new.”
His surroundings weren’t just dark—they were wrong. The kind of wrong that made his instincts scream, the kind that twisted reality at the edges like a badly rendered game glitch. The mist curled unnaturally, forming shapes that vanished the moment he focused on them. He caught glimpses of things moving in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with inhuman hunger.
And then he saw her.
A girl, dressed in shredded white robes, struggling against skeletal hands that clawed at her from below. Her silver hair floated around her like moonlight caught in a storm. Her violet eyes were wide with terror, reflecting the abyss around them.
Kaito’s first thought? Damn, that’s creepy.
His second? Guess I should do something before she dies. Again.
“Hey,” Kaito called, stepping forward. “Need a hand?”
She looked at him, disbelief flashing across her face. “You… you’re not one of them?”
“Depends. If ‘them’ means creepy dead guys, then nah.”
The skeletal figures turned towards him. Dozens of empty eye sockets locked onto his form.
Then they lunged.
Kaito barely had time to react before claws tore toward him. His body moved on instinct—duck, pivot, counter. His fist connected with something solid, and the impact sent shockwaves through his arm.
The skeleton shattered like glass.
He grinned. “Hah! Looks like I can still break things.”
Celeste gasped as Kaito ripped her free from the skeletal grip. The moment their hands touched, a surge of energy erupted around them. White-hot symbols flared to life beneath their feet, forming intricate circles that pulsed with unnatural energy.
A voice, ancient and unfeeling, echoed through the void.
SOUL CONTRACT INITIATED.
BOUND BY LIFE. BOUND BY DEATH.
A silver chain materialized around their wrists, glowing with an eerie, shifting light. The skeletal figures recoiled, hissing, before retreating into the abyss.
Kaito blinked at the chain. Then at Celeste. Then at the abyss.
“…Well,” he said, grinning. “This is going to be a pain in the ass.”
Celeste just stared at him, eyes wide. “You think?”
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Far beyond the mist, something stirred.
A presence older than death itself opened its many eyes, its gaze turning toward the two souls now bound together. The void shivered in anticipation.
And then, it smiled.