Chapter Text
Los Angeles....Beneath the Velvet Mirage Casino...
Beneath the glitz and polished marble of a seemingly ordinary casino lay the greatest crime hub in the city.
Drugs. Flesh. Bloodsport. Name a sin, and it thrived down here.
A paradise for the powerful.
A nightmare for the forgotten.
In one of the darker corners of this hellhole, a market thrived, dedicated to the sale of children. Cages hidden behind curtains, innocent kids bartered like cheap goods.
And the man behind it all?
Victor Loraine.
A man hailed publicly as a virtuous politician. A family man whose love for his wife was unparalleled.
But those who understood the truth of wealth knew his name was filth disguised in gold.
Victor rarely visited the depths of his empire. He didn’t have to. He lived like a king, letting others get their hands dirty. He rarely ever went to social gatherings.
And today was one of those rare days. It was his twenty fifth wedding anniversary.
A grand banquet at his mansion. Politicians, tycoons, celebrities, all in attendance, showering compliments on his smiling, lonely wife.
Meanwhile, Victor lounged in his private quarters, flanked by two young women, "gifts" from equally rotten acquaintances.
He was sipping brandy when the door creaked open.
A man entered.
Jeremiah Jefferson.
Victor's eyes narrowed. His bodyguard stood behind him, sheepish.
"I said no interruptions.", Victor growled.
Jeremiah offered a low chuckle. "Forgive me, Mr. Loraine. I thought this one might interest you."
He stepped aside.
Behind him stood a girl. Long white hair cascading over delicate shoulders. Blue eyes wide and shimmering. She looked like porcelain. Beauty that seemed to be crafted by God himself.
"This is Yuki-chan.", Jeremiah said smoothly. "Half Japanese. I heard you've developed a taste for Eastern beauty recently."
Victor's gaze snapped toward her. The previous girls vanished from his mind instantly. He licked his lips.
"I see your thoughtfulness is... Appreciated.", he muttered, eyes glued to the girl. "Fine. Leave us."
Even the bodyguard wasn't spared the dismissal. Soon, it was just Victor and the girl in the room.
He patted the seat next to him, voice dripping with sleaze.
"Come here, beautiful."
"Yuki-chan" smiled.
She walked forward with grace, every step measured. Victor's eyes followed her like a dog chasing meat.
Predators like Victor were always the easiest.
They let their guards down the moment they thought they had control.
Smile, distract, attack.
It was the first lesson Blue had ever learned, back when he was still called Nagisa Shiota. Back when he'd tried to kill Koro sensei with the exact same trick.
Using it now? Easier than ever.
Victor's smile never had time to fade.
In one clean, silent motion, a line opened across his throat, precise, surgical. Not a single scream.
His body slumped against the couch.
Blue's face didn't flinch. A small smile on his face..he was satisfied with the result.
No fingerprints, no stray hairs were left behind.
In under ten minutes, "Yuki-chan" was gone.
The wig, the dress were discarded. A simple uniform and a servant's cart completed the transformation.
The girl was now a nameless butler, pushing a tray of wine through the mansion halls, nodding politely at passing guests. No one gave him a second glance.
In the bathroom, the servant vanished too.
Jeremiah Jefferson walked out with his son, Jonathan, in tow.
"We're terribly sorry." Jefferson said to the butler at the gate, with a regretful frown. "A family emergency. We must leave."
The guards nodded. The gates opened.
Escape complete. Just that easily.
........
Blackline Headquarters LA branch:
By the time Raven and Blue returned to headquarters, the news of Victor Loraine’s death had already made national headlines.
The media had their suspects:
A mysterious, white haired girl.
And Jeremiah Jefferson, the man who brought her to the mansion.
Lucien stormed into the room, fingers pressed hard against his forehead, as if trying to squeeze the irritation out.
"You were sloppy, Raven.", he snapped, eyes narrowing.
Raven shrugged, unbothered.
Lucien's voice sharpened. "Could you at least pretend to care? Thanks to you, we now have to kill the entire identity of Jeremiah Jefferson. You let yourself become a suspect."
Raven leaned lazily against the table. "It was getting boring anyway." he said. "Playing some crusty old aristocrat in his forties? I was starting to believe I was him."
Lucien looked like he was ten seconds away from homicide. He turned to Blue instead.
Blue was silently repairing his dagger, its edge barely grazed from the last mission. The focus on his blade was surgical..it was an assassin's meditation.
"If I'd known this was how it'd go, I would’ve sent Blue alone...", Lucien muttered.
"Then do that next time." Raven replied, without looking back. He rolled his eyes and strolled out, not even pretending to care.
Lucien sighed once he was gone. That man was impossible.
He turned back to Blue.
"There's another mission I want you to take."
Blue raised a brow. "Already? That's quick."
Lucien's tone dropped, almost reluctant. He handed over a slim black folder, and the moment Blue read the location, his expression changed.
"…Japan."
Blue froze.
He hadn't set foot in Japan since the day Nagisa Shiota died.
Even now, the thought of returning clawed at something buried deep, faces he couldn't forget, memories he swore to kill.
"…Japan?", His voice was quiet. "Can’t someone else do it?"
Lucien shook his head. "Three assassins were already sent. All of them are dead."
Blue's eyes narrowed. "Then send higher rank operatives."
"We did. One B-rank. Two A-ranks."
Blue stilled.
That couldn't be right.
"Three top tier assassins... all failed to kill one man?"
Lucien’s jaw tightened. "Yes. That's why I'm asking you."
He gestured toward the folder.
"The target is a mysterious. No name. No photo. No fingerprints. What we do know is that he joined a tiny Yakuza gang in Osaka about six years ago. Back then, they were nothing, just small time dealers, barely armed."
He leaned forward, voice low.
"Now they're the second most powerful syndicate in Japan."
Blue was silent, absorbing every word.
"He's the reason why. The others in the gang refer to him like a god. And the strange thing is... he's rarely ever seen at their headquarters. We suspect he’s involved in something else....possibly another organization or an independant operation...but we haven't been able to track it."
Blue's jaw clenched.
It made no sense. How could one man dismantle three trained killers and build an empire in silence?
Still... returning to Japan was what made his blood run cold.
"I'd rather not go back..", he murmured.
"I know", Lucien said. "But all the other S ranks are off grid. You're the only one available."
Blue said nothing.
He was the youngest S rank in Blackline history, his talent was unnatural, innate, perfect fri an assassin.
But this mission... might be the one thing he wasn’t ready for.
But he couldn't afford to be weak. Not anymore. Not after everything he'd already buried.
Nagisa Shiota was supposed to be dead.
And Blue was never supposed to hesitate.
He looked up at Lucien, a cold smile returning to his lips.
"…Fine..." he said quietly. "I'll go to Japan."