Aboard the Plane
The engines hummed steadily as the plane sliced through the clouds. The interior buzzed with tension, determination—and a few nerves.
Ryju sat upright, his eyes fixed on the dim horizon through the window. "So... the time has come, huh?"
Rei nodded beside him, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Yep."
Kenshiro crossed his arms, leaning back against his seat. "We'll be there in five hours. Get ready."
Zanden cracked his knuckles. "When we get there, saving Misa is the priority. Everything else comes second."
Azar, sitting near the front, clenched his fist tightly. "No matter what... I will kill Vel Draven."
Jett leaned slightly toward Rei and whispered, "He's about to explode with anger. Be cautious."
He's so cute when he's close, Rei thought, her cheeks warming as she stole a glance at Jett.
"Man," Shun grinned. "Our first mission's gonna be a story to tell."
"Tell me about it," Goro laughed, picking crumbs off his shirt.
Taro exhaled deeply. "I just hope Misa is holding up."
"She is," Azar assured. "She's strong. I don't know how they even managed to capture her."
"They must have some kind of special power," Zanden muttered.
Goro turned toward Kenshiro. "Hey... can I ask you something? I know it's late, but I've been thinking."
Kenshiro raised an eyebrow. "Sure. What is it?"
Goro rubbed the back of his neck. "Remember our first sparring match?"
Kenshiro nodded slowly. "Yeah?"
"You... were like a different person. You kept talking about being 'justice.'"
Ryju added, "And at the academy, when we saw Uzuki, Jake, and Hana—you nearly killed Jake."
"Oh, and when we got our powers," Goro continued, "the Spiritual King mentioned you were from a family of assassins."
Kenshiro sighed. "There's no point hiding it anymore. Guess it's story time."
Everyone turned their attention to him.
"I was born into a family of assassins," he began. "We lived in a small village called Souri. As soon as I could walk—around three years old—I was trained to kill. That was our way of life. Killing wasn't a crime to us; it was business."
Taro leaned forward. "Any siblings?"
"Yeah. Two brothers, three sisters. All older. I lived with them, my parents, and my grandpa. By the time I was six, I had over sixty kills. My siblings had more—some with over a hundred, even two hundred. My parents and grandpa? Thousands."
"No way..." Ryju whispered.
"We were the most feared assassins in the underworld."
"The underworld?" Azar asked.
"It's a network of criminals," Kenshiro explained. "The most dangerous people—like the kind hosting the auction we're heading to. That's an underworld event."
"So the underworld is just... for evil people?" Taro asked.
"Exactly. When someone in the underworld needed a person dead, they came to us."
Rei's voice trembled slightly. "So... what happened? Why did you leave and come to the Great Village?"
"When I first awakened my power—black holes—I showed my family. They were amazed. Thought we'd become unstoppable. Thought we'd rule the underworld."
Shun swallowed. "But?"
"One day... I lost control. The black hole I created grew too large, too fast. My family tried to stop me. I heard them screaming my name... telling me to stop. I remember my dad and grandpa even trying to kill me—but they couldn't."
Everyone sat silently.
"When I came to, the entire village was gone. Destroyed. I... killed them all."
"Kenshiro..." Rei whispered.
"After that, ninjas from the Great Village found me. They said The Great Village owned that territory, and took me in."
"So you were hiding your power... because you thought it would happen again," Ryju realized.
Kenshiro nodded. "I thought I'd kill you all, too... until I realized you were on my level. My family wasn't."
Azar leaned forward. "You've had it rough."
Kenshiro gave a faint smile. "It's alright. My mom always said... if the assassin life didn't suit me, I should become a ninja. So here I am."
Ryju clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well, we're your family now."
"Yeah!" everyone echoed in unison.
Kenshiro chuckled under his breath. "Thanks... really."
Meanwhile, at the Auction Grounds
The hall gleamed with gold and velvet. Velvet curtains, golden chandeliers, and shadowy silhouettes filled the room. Behind a polished desk, Vel Draven swirled a glass of wine.
"Butler," he called, "are the preparations complete?"
"Yes, Mr. Draven," the butler replied, bowing. "Some guests have already arrived. It seems many are eager."
"Good," Vel said with a smirk, turning toward the mirror to adjust his cufflinks. "Move the merchandise to the backstage area."
"As you wish."
"Oh, and anyone who arrives past ten-fifteen..." His eyes narrowed, voice venomous. "Tell me—and I'll kill them."