Ryuji’s POV:

I am Ryuji Nakamura, and this is my story.

I used to have a happy childhood with my loving parents and my elder brother, Kazuki.

My parents worked hard for their living with my dad owning a dojo that taught swordsmanship techniques and my mom owning a small restaurant.

My elder brother and I used to spend our days going to school in the morning and helping my mom in her restaurant when we came back in the evening. We also used to train in swordsmanship when we had days off from school in my father’s dojo.

I looked up to my family especially Kazuki, who was smart, kind, skilled, and brave. We often played together and shared our dreams of the future. I wanted to take over the restaurant of my mother, while he wanted to be a master swordsman and take over my father’s dojo. I was living a calm and peaceful life that I hoped would last forever.

However, one day, when I was 12 and he was 18, everything changed. He went missing after he left for school. My parents reported his disappearance to the authorities, but they found no trace of him. I was devastated and felt helpless. I prayed every night for his safe return, but that didn’t happen.

After a few months of searching and with no clues about my brother’s whereabouts the authorities decided to deem my brother as dead and stop the search. My parents were outraged and decided to continue the search themselves, not knowing where this road would lead them.

…The day my parents left me was the day I lost everything. They had followed a lead about my brother, who had vanished two years ago without a trace. They said someone had contacted them anonymously and told them where to find him. They said it was their only chance to bring him back.

I begged them not to go. I told them it was a trap, a lie, a cruel joke. I told them they would die if they went. I clung to them and cried.

They hugged me and kissed me and told me to be brave. They said they loved me and they loved my brother. They said they would never give up on him, no matter what. They said they would call me as soon as they found him.

They also said something else, something that haunted me later. They said if anything happened to them, I should open the vault in their room and take what was inside.

I never heard from them again.

A few days later, the police called me and told me the horrible news. They had found their bodies in their car, near an abandoned warehouse. They had been shot in the head, execution style.

I felt a surge of pain and rage in my chest. I screamed and cursed and threw things around. I wanted to die too. I wanted to join them in the afterlife.

However, then I remembered their last words. I remembered the vault.

I ran to their room and opened it with trembling hands. Inside, I found two things that changed my life forever.

One was a pair of documents that gave me ownership of their dojo and their restaurant. They had left me their legacy, their livelihood, their pride.

The other was a pair of swords that gave me a purpose, a mission, a destiny.

They were katanas, ancient and beautiful, with names engraved on their blades. They were called Dojikiri Yasatsuna and Onimaru Kunitsuna, the demon cutter, and the demon circle. They were our family heirlooms that were forged with modern materials and passed down from generation to generation.

They were also weapons of vengeance.

Along with the swords, there was a letter addressed to me. It was written in their handwriting, with tears and blood staining the paper. It said:

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Our beloved son Ryuji,

If you are reading this, then we are no longer alive. We are sorry for leaving you alone in this cruel world, but we hope you understand why we did what we did. We loved you and your brother more than anything else, and we could not bear the thought of losing him forever. We had to try to save him, even if it meant risking our own lives.

However, we did not leave you empty-handed. We left you our dojo and our restaurant, so you can live a peaceful and happy life. We left you enough money to take care of yourself and your needs. We left you our katanas, so you can honor our memory and our heritage.

Yet most importantly, we left you a choice.

If you want to live a normal life, forget about us and your brother. Forget about the pain and the sorrow. Forget about the evil that took them away from you. Find someone who loves you and start a family of your own. Be happy, Ryuji. You deserve it.

Nevertheless, if you want to live a life of revenge, follow our footsteps and find the ones who killed us and your brother. Find the ones who call themselves the Cult of the Damned, a secret organization that performs horrific experiments on humans to create super soldiers. Find them and make them pay for what they have done.

We will not judge you for whatever you choose Ryuji. We will always love you and be proud of you. We will always watch over you from above.

May the gods bless you and protect you until the end of your days.

Love,

Your Mom and Dad.”

I read the letter over and over again, feeling a mix of emotions. I felt sadness for losing my parents and my brother. I felt gratitude for their love and their gifts. I felt anger for their killers and their cruelty.

I looked at the swords, shining in the light. I felt their weight and their power. I felt their call and their promise.

I made my choice.

I took the swords, the letter, some money, and then left the house.

I left behind everything else, locking everything up tightly. I did not care about them, at least not for now.

I only had one thing I cared about.

Revenge.

For four years, I lived a double life. By day, I was Ruyu, a ruthless killer who would slay anyone for the right price. By night, I was Ryuji, a relentless hunter who would search for any clue about the Cult of the Damned.

I had become a legend in the underground scene of the settlement. No one knew my real name or my real motive. No one knew that I hated the Cult of the Damned more than anyone else. No one knew that I blamed them for the death of my parents and the disappearance of my brother.

I had no friends, no allies, no trust. I only had my katanas, Dojikiri and Onimaru, and my skills. They were my companions, my weapons, my identity.

Then, one day, fate gave me a chance. A chance to infiltrate the enemy and destroy them from within.

A man named Rick approached me and offered me a job. He said he worked for the Cult of the Damned, and that they needed someone like me. Someone strong, fearless, and loyal.

I pretended to be interested and accepted his offer. He did not recognize me as the son of the people the organization had killed. He did not suspect me as the person who was looking into their organization. He did not see me as the threat who would bring them down.

He took me to one of their facilities, where they kept their test subjects in cells. There, I saw the horror that they had inflicted on innocent people. They had experimented on them, tortured them, and turned them into soulless husks.

I felt a surge of anger and sorrow in my heart. I wondered if my brother was one of them, or if he was already dead. I wanted to kill them all, right then and there.

However, I restrained myself. I knew that this was not the time or the place. I knew that this was not the only facility they had. I knew that this was not the end of their evil.

I needed a strategy and a team.

I started to look around for potential allies, people who shared my hatred and my vision. People who wanted to escape and fight back. People who had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

I found a few, but they were not enough. I could not risk exposing myself or them to danger. I could not repeat the tragedy that had befallen me.

I waited patiently for the right moment to strike.

And then, I met him.

He stood out among the other test subjects, a 16-year-old boy with long black hair and piercing eyes that reminded me of my brother.

He didn’t scream or sob like the others, he just looked sad and lost. I could tell he wanted to escape, to break free from this nightmare.

However, I also knew that soon his desire would change.

He would see the horrors of this facility and he would want what I wanted. Revenge.

I wondered if I could work with him if we could change this cruel world together.

Yet, I never expected him to be so extraordinary.

It began with a simple act of kindness when I told him to eat something.

Nevertheless, it changed the day he asked me a question that shook me to my core: “Are you a friend or foe?”

He had been watching me as much as I had been watching him. He had read me like a book with just two encounters.

He reminded me so much of my brother, his gaze, his talent, his smile. I felt a strange urge to help him, to protect him.

He asked me for information and books, and I gave them to him without hesitation. I even gave him my personal HT which cost me my entire life’s work.

Why did I trust him so easily? Why did I feel comfortable around him despite our age difference? Who was he really?

I decided to dig deeper into his background and what I found was shocking. Not to me, but to him.

How would I tell him the truth? How would he react to it? The terrible secret that would shatter his world.