THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR SOME READERS.
The road was quiet but it wasn't the kind of quiet that meant peace. It was the kind that meant something was waiting to explode. The absence of noise itself seemed to weigh heavy on them like the calm before a storm.
Kuroshi's crew circled up around Damon and his friends, Kuroshi stepped into the circle and the loose ring was in around him too.
The shadows of the gang stretched long under the fractured glow of the street lamps. The evening light spilled between the buildings, dust turning gold in the air and drifted like sparks caught between night and fire.
Daiki stepped forward first with his sneakers scraping against the cracked pavement. Damon stretched out his hand without even looking and stopped him in his tracks with that single gesture.
"Damon, you sure about this?" Daiki asked in a low an wary tone.
Damon had a familiar look on his face. It was the look of total confidence that choose to stay silent. His eyes held a calm gaze, like complete calm a winner has before a challenge because they already know they are going to win.
"Take Natsuki and leave," Damon said quietly, his tone steady and almost detached.
Daiki frowned. "She doesn't wanna go."
"I'll be staying," Natsuki cut in, her voice trembling but stubborn, her fists clenched at her sides.
Daiki groaned, dragging her away with muttered curses while Natsuki hit his back in protest, their quarrel fading into the background noise of the street.
Damon turned back to the man who seemed like the leader. He was tall, lean but built, the kind of body formed by too many street fights and too many nights surviving them. His purple-dyed hair shimmered under the dying sun, the way the lights shone on them itself seemed like a warning.
"Am I supposed to know who you are?" Damon asked, his voice calm, almost bored.
"I guess an introduction is proper. Kuroshi, the boss of the guys you killed," the man said, smoke curling from his cigar.
'Seriously? Revenge? This is so annoying,' Damon thought. "How did you know where to find me?" he asked.
"There's no magic to it, kid. Just attention, and I pay well. Very well."
The gang began closing in, with their boots scraping and chains rattling faintly in the dusk.
'The heck am I supposed to do now?' he asked himself as he gritted his teeth. Then suddenly, he had an idea.
"Wait! I know you must really want to kill me. Why don't I make you a deal?" Damon's tone cut through the noise.
"Hear that? He wants to make a deal, boys!" one of them jeered.
A goon laughed. "Whaddya think this is, the Deal or No Deal—"
Kuroshi raised a hand, ordering silence with a single gesture. His grin lingered. "Go on."
"Let's settle this," Damon said. "You can fight me. If I win, we forget what happened, and things go back to normal. If you win, you can bury me."
Kuroshi's smirk sharpened. "We don't want to kill you, kid. Torture... we like torture."
"Well, you're not getting that... unless you're stupid."
The big guy at the back snapped, "Hey, who are you calling stupid?"
"My dad's a cop, yknow? He's the kind who doesn't sleep till he finds a body," Damon said evenly. He produced the lie in such a manner that if his father were present, even he might begin to believe it. "I'm sure Kuroshi here understands."
A few of the men exchanged uneasy glances. Not fear, just calculation of the possibility. They weren't sure if he was lying, and that uncertainty was palpable.
Clang!
A bin lid crashed in the alley, and a cat they didn't see darted away with a sharp meow.
"So what if your dad's a cop?" Daigo asked. Daigo was a very big guy with a bat suitable for his size.
"That means if we kill him or leave marks, the feds'll be all over us, Daigo," Kuroshi muttered, taking another puff.
The gang froze.
'Since I've lied to them, fighting me is a risk. If the cops came sniffing around, they're finished. They should leave me alone about now,' Damon thought.
"You don't look like a cop's son, brat," Kuroshi said.
"You've got no idea," Damon replied.
Kuroshi sighed, then grinned, lifting his fists lazily. Smoke curled around his face like a mask. "Fine. If you win... You lose, you're dead."
'He actually agreed to fight a seventeen-year-old? I thought gangs had honour. Don't believe the internet, don't believe the library, so what to do now?'
"Yes," Damon said calmly. "So you can do anything to me, as long as it doesn't implicate you in the process."
Kuroshi cracked his neck with a widening grin. "You've got guts, kid. You know what happens when you challenge me?"
'If I defeat him, I naturally become the leader. If I don't control them, they'll keep coming for us. I guess it's better to own the threat than run from it... long term. Do I really have time to even run a gang right now? I don't want to. But... if I'm not in charge, how do I know he won't go after them if I'm not there?'
"Yeah," Damon said in a steady voice. "If I win, I'm the new leader. If I lose, you can do whatever you want to me tonight... and tomorrow."
Kuroshi squinted. "And why tomorrow too?"
"Because I have to be home the day after. As I said, my father's a cop." He lowered his voice now. "Or I could just tell them you put a bounty on my head without them knowing? You'll be too busy explaining it's a—"
Kuroshi flicked his cigar aside and walked towards Damon, standing tall like a lion before its prey. Damon's fists tightened as he gently steadied his feet. For a moment, the two of them looked like still and unblinking statues, locked in a silent promise.
"You think you can run my streets, kid?" Kuroshi asked with narrowed eyes.
"I don't need to. You can run it. You'd just answer to me, if I beat you here." Damon answered.
Whish.
Kuroshi moved first with a kick aimed at Damon's head.
'He's fast,' Damon thought. 'He's quick,' Kuroshi thought.
The crowd shouted, circling tighter, voices rising like a chant. "C'mon, boss! Teach him his place!"
Kuroshi threw another heavier and faster punch. Damon ducked and caught his arm mid-swing. And in one twist, a loud boom echoed with Kuroshi hitting the ground hard.
Silence stretched for everyone standing in the circle.
"You rely too much on height," Damon said as he stepped forward coldly, "Doesn't mean anything if you can't hit me."
'How do I understand he relies on height...?'
Blood dripped from Kuroshi's forehead, his smirk returning. "Heh. You're fast. I'll give you that. But you're too strong for your age. I'll beat the name of whatever steroid it is after kicking your ass here."
He got up with a kick that Damon blocked with his forearm.
Kuroshi smirked, his other hand coming low. "Sike." Within the blink of an eye, Kuroshi slipped behind him with surprising speed, faster than Damon expected.
Damon felt a grab on his lower body from behind. It was Kuroshi, the gang leader, who lifted him up and Damon's feet left the ground. The world from his POV flipped. He felt weightless for a moment before his upper back slammed against the asphalt ground and the side of his head scratched the floor too.
Damon thought, blood streaking his temple. 'I knew he was strong but who said he'd actually been trained?'
A punch slipped through Damons guard, cracking his jaw and sending stars bursting across his vision.
They launched again: fists, knees, dodges, punches. It was a blur of motion and grit Damon dropped low for a swoop kick Kuroshi leaped over. Then Damon followed with a jab and a punch, both aimed at Kuroshi's head.
Kuroshi blocked both strikes and surged forward in the same motion, his hand suddenly snapping around Damon's throat. Natsuki's breath caught from across the street. Daiki froze beside her but held her shoulder.
Damon hit Kuroshi's arm once, then twice. But nothing happened.
The grip only got tighter while cutting off his air. His vision blurred at the edges. He tried to twist free, but Kuroshi caught Damon's wrist with his free hand and forced Damon's arm back with frightening ease. Damon's body strained against the hold.
For a heartbeat, he couldn't breathe, speak, or think.
Then instinct took over.
Damon hooked his legs around Kuroshi's neck, using the man's height against him. 'He's tall; this'll hurt,' he thought.
With one sharp twist of his core, Damon drove his legs forward, forcing Kuroshi's head downward— directly striking the ground. The impact broke the hold, sending Kuroshi stumbling as Damon rolled back to his feet, breath returning in a harsh gasp.
Kuroshi fell, and while breathing hard Damon immediately knelt over him with a raised fist, he was ready to throw the knockout punch remained silent silent. No one spoke. The air itself felt paused.
Damon exhaled slowly and dropped his hand while straightening his jacket. "Guess that makes me boss."
"You liar," Kuroshi spat. "There was no bounty."
Damon tilted his head, calm as ever. "Tell that to your crew. Let's see who they believe."
A pause. Then, laughter.
Kuroshi pushed himself up, smirking as he cleaned the blood from his forehead. The gang murmured.
"How dare you touch Mr. Kuroshi like that!" one yelled.
Damon's gaze was sharp, unbothered. "I'm your new boss. From now on, if you want to get paid, you'll follow my orders. Any objections?"
Silence. Even the wind stopped.
"I don't know why you people do things the way you do," Damon said. "But from now on, there'll be changes."
Kuroshi dusted off his jacket. "Changes, huh? I guess I'm the assistant now."
A half-drunk raised his hand. "Wait! If he's boss, does that mean I don't gotta—"
"You'll all be punished," Damon cut in. "For last month's thefts."
"Thefts?!" the drunk yelled. "We haven't had a gig in seven months! We've been scraping by… taking whatever jobs we could."
Everyone turned.
Kuroshi sighed. "That's Rukito. Smartest when he's sober."
Damon blinked. "He's drunk."
"Exactly," Kuroshi replied.
"You attacked grannies?" Damon muttered. "Alright. First punishment: Just… clean the streets. Three hours. Every night. I'll figure out the rest later. Kuroshi will make sure it's done. If I'm not around, he's in charge."
The gang groaned.
Daigo snapped, "Boss, you're not gonna let the new kid talk to you like that, are ya?"
Others chimed in. "Since when does a high-school kid run us?"
"Yeah! What's next? He's gonna tell us bedtime stories?"
Kuroshi's eyes sharpened. "You know better than to question the code, Daigo." He turned to his men.
"Remember when I promised to protect you all? I meant that, even if we were drunk. In our world, strength is the only law we've got and the language we speak. Whoever won the fight won the throne."
Rukito hiccuped. "That doesn't explain why you didn't tell us about the bounty."
'Huh? They heard that?' Kuroshi grinned in frustration. "Well... I planned to."
Damon walked forward, "And what if I take over that promise? I am your leader now."
'Saying leader feels odd in my mouth. Ugh.'
Daigo laughed. "You may know how to fight, kid, but running the streets? That's a whole different game."
"Yeah!" another said. "You don't even know our connections!"
Rukito sighed. "You all just dragged Daigo into another mess."
Damon smirked. "Daigo. You're a big guy; use your 'big brain.' Compile every operation in the past ten months and your top five contacts."
"Huh?" Daigo muttered with a dumb blink.
Kuroshi chuckled while lighting a cigar, "He means: write everything down, get the files, and tell him about Takeshi and Drexel."
Daigo muttered, "Does the boy want me to talk about them or their gangs? 'Cause I got opinions..."
Damon sighed, already tired of their back‑and‑forth, "You do know I'm standing right here, right? And my name's... just call me... err... Cipher. Yeah, that."
Later, after a couple of minutes of chatter and minor planning Damon exhaled while watching the men with tired eyes.
'If it's so easy to own a gang, why doesn't Daredevil just take one and command them to fight? This is the real world I guess.'
"I don't want to keep my friends worried," he said. "I'll leave the rest to you." He turned. "Kuroshi, walk with me."
After covering some distance, Kuroshi lit a cigarette. Damon's boot swung. Kick! The cigarette flew, sparking off the wall.
"Show-off," Kuroshi muttered.
"What's your real name?" Damon asked.
"How'd you know that wasn't my real name?"
"When Daigo called you 'Kuroshi,' he hesitated. Almost as if he had to remember the lie first."
Kuroshi grinned. "You're quite observant."
As Damon disappeared into the night, but Kuroshi called out, "How'd you know about the gang codes?! The leadership thing?!"
"Visit the library sometime," he said with a faint smile.
His voice held their own mass of certainty as if every word he spoke was meant to be impossible to forget. It sounded less like advice and more like a warning thrown into the silence, echoing long after he vanished into the dark.