Gotham.
I could feel it the moment the Deva Path stepped into the city limits—the rot,the corruption,the fear soaked into the very concrete.
A perfect breeding ground for the Akatsuki.
No heroes patrolled the skies.No shimmering capes or godlike figures.
Just criminals.Gangs.Low-life scum feeding on a dying city.
Exactly the kind of place to make a statement.
The Deva Path walked through the foggy streets without hurry, without emotion, until a familiar glow of icy blue light appeared ahead:
Penguin's Iceberg Lounge.
A den of crime.A nest of parasites.
A perfect stage.
The guards barely noticed him enter. At first, they assumed he was another lost soul wandering into the wrong neighborhood.
Then he raised his hand.
A black chakra rod materialized in his palm with a soft snap of dark energy.
The first guard didn't even have time to scream before the rod pierced his throat, pinning him to the wall like an insect.
Panic erupted.
"What the hell—!?"
"Shoot him!"
Bullets ripped through the air, but to the Deva Path they were lazy, pathetic things. He stepped around them effortlessly, moving with divine precision. His feet never hurried. His expression never changed.
The next wave of criminals charged.He carved through them like a cold, unfeeling executioner.
A slash.A stab.A rod thrown straight through a man's skull.
Bodies fell like dominoes, each death quiet, efficient, inevitable.
And every kill sent a strange thrill through our link.Not pleasure—Purpose.
The Iceberg Lounge screamed in terror.Women, men, servers, dancers—everyone inside who drew breath fell before him.The Deva Path killed without hesitation, without mercy.
Not one witness would remain to distort the message.
They would only remember the fear.
They would only remember the symbol.
Up the staircase, more gunfire.
The Deva Path moved sideways, letting bullets zip past harmlessly.A guard tried to run.The Path flicked his wrist—a black rod shot out, impaling the man through the spine.
He climbed the last steps.
Penguin's office door slammed shut.
Coward.
The door exploded inward under a single Shinra Tensei.
Penguin stood behind his desk, sweat pouring down his face as he fumbled for his umbrella gun.
"W-wait! Whatever they're paying you—I can double it! Triple!"
The Deva Path didn't speak.
He simply raised his arm.
Penguin's eyes widened—
"NO—"
The black chakra rod speared through his skull, bursting out the back of his head and nailing his corpse to the filing cabinets behind him.
Silence fell.
Gotham had lost a crime lord in less than thirty seconds.
The Deva Path stepped over the body, dragging the rod free with a wet crack.
Then he went to work.
He dipped a rod in Penguin's blood and painted the red cloud symbol of the Akatsuki across the walls, across the bar, across the shattered dance floor. He repeated it again and again, letting crimson drip in thick strokes.
On the stage, he wrote one word in towering letters:
AKATSUKI
Every wall bore the message.Every floor was smeared with red.
Gotham would not misunderstand.
This was deliberate.This was a declaration.This was the beginning.
When he stepped back out into the night, moonlight hit the bloodied walls and the slaughtered bodies inside.
A new message flickered across my system panel:
[Reputation Gained!]
Gotham Crime Syndicates alerted: +50 RPElimination of major crime lord: +30 RPMass impact event: +120 RPWitness rumors spreading through Gotham: +40 RP
Total Reputation Points: 240 RP
A slow smile spread across my real lips back in the hideout.
The world had finally heard the first whisper.
Soon…it would hear the scream.
The Akatsuki had arrived.
And Gotham would never forget the day it learned Pain.