Published: March 21, 2026
On the slanted roof of a certain building, a shadow dressed all in black blended into the darkness.
A black cloth was wrapped around his neck, the leftover fabric and cloak fluttering in the wind. As if waiting for something, the shadow stared at the roof without moving. Only someone in the same line of work could probably spot a figure that had melted so completely into the dark that even a conscious observer wouldn’t notice.
After a while, the figure in black sighed, stood up, shifted his left foot back, drew a dagger, and suddenly assumed a combat stance.
There seemed to be nothing where he was looking, but at that moment the air rippled and a man appeared. He, too, wore light black clothing like the shadow. The differences were his weapon, the black cloth around his neck, and the jet-black cloak he wore.
“…A colleague, huh. Hey, are you protecting this one? Or are you a big shot like you came to kill a mere guildmaster?”
“This one, and anyone who interferes with me.”
The shadow answered the man’s question curtly. From the start, he had no intention of giving a polite response.
He simply conveyed his clear killing intent.
The man’s body trembled at the intense aura of death.
This man was also fairly well-known in the underworld. He recognized that feeling.
If one truly erased their presence, no one could find them, and they were the world’s strongest Assassin who could silently bury thousands of demonic beasts—
“I see. Ah—damn, of all things to happen, my contract overlaps with that ‘dark Assassin’. That’s unlucky.”
The man sighed deeply as if genuinely disappointed.
Although he held a combat stance, he was ready to flee. Sweat trickled in the face of the small rival’s overwhelming killing intent.
The shadow ignored him, observed the prey with a predatory gaze, and struck.
“…………!?”
Before he could even realize what had happened, the man watched dumbfounded as his own blood spurted out and he collapsed to the ground.
The shadow retracted his extended right foot, wiped the dagger’s gore on the man’s black cloth, and turned his gaze to the main target.
“…”
The hand holding a dagger the color of darkness trembled slightly. He steadied the quiver with his other hand.
Then, quietly, he erased his presence and slipped into the target’s room, pressing the dagger to the base of the target’s neck.
If he carried this out, the shadow could never return to his previous peaceful life.
“Sorry, everyone. If I kill this one, I can take one step forward. If I kill this one, many people will be saved. And him…”
The shadow—Oda Akira, an otherwise ordinary high school boy—muttered that and pulled the blade with all his strength.
This was deep in a forest. Normally, no one would come here; it was far too dangerous. A girl, white hair flying, was running through it, fleeing her pursuers. She didn’t stop, even when her feet splashed through puddles and she got covered in mud, even when tree roots nearly made her fall.
But she was near her limit both physically and mentally. Tears blurred her vision, and her speed had dropped considerably. The only reason she hadn’t been caught yet was that her pursuers were deliberately slowing themselves to toy with her.
“Hah… hah…!?”
As if to press the attack, an arrow flew from somewhere and pierced her leg.
There was only one person the girl knew who could accurately shoot the leg of a running target through trees.
“Uwa… w-why…”
With the arrow lodged through her leg, she couldn’t run. She sat down where she was, clenching against the pain and looking at her pursuer. The arrow seemed tipped with a paralytic toxin—the prickling numbness spread through her body and she could hardly move.
“Why?”
The pursuer repeated the words, twisting her face into a cruel expression, and sneered.
“Rather, I should be asking why. Why are you still alive?”
The words dug deep into her heart. The white-haired girl slowly shook her head, as if to say she didn’t want to hear it.