The Pleasure District, an infamous place where indulgence and vice reigned supreme. It was known for its exotic services, where women of the night catered to the desires of their clientele without question.

  In one of the many bars dominating the district, a man sat on the upper floor, surrounded by a dozen women. He was an absolute giant, standing at nearly 7 feet 5 inches (2m25), his massive frame packed with muscle. His bald head gleamed under the dim lighting, and a small goatee adorned his strong jaw. A pair of dark sunglasses concealed his eyes, making it impossible to decipher his thoughts.

  The women draped themselves over him, some wearing nothing but bikinis, others in nothing but their underwear, some were even completely nude. They caressed his arms, kissed his neck, and whispered sweet words into his ear, each vying for his attention. But the man remained unmoved, quietly sipping his wine as if none of them existed.

  — "Is something wrong, Master Derek?" one of the women cooed, rubbing her body against his bicep. "You seem tense..."

  Derek didn't answer right away. He twirled the wine in his glass, staring at the liquid deep in thought.

  "The Angel of Death, huh?" he mused. "Let's see if you live up to the legend."

  — "It’s nothing," he finally said in a deep, rumbling voice.

  — "Then allow me to ease your tension," another woman whispered from behind him, trailing kisses along his neck.

  — "I’d love for you to pay attention to me too, Master Derek," a third chimed in, her hand slowly brushing against his inner thigh.

  Derek smirked, amused by their eagerness.

  — "Relax, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around."

  But before anything could escalate, the door burst open, and a man barged in, panting heavily. His face was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged clearly, he had run all the way here.

  Derek’s smile vanished instantly. He put down his glass, irritation flashing across his face.

  — "You better have a damn good reason for barging in unannounced..." he growled, his tone dark and threatening. "Because if you don’t, you’re not leaving here alive."

  The man swallowed hard, bowing his head.

  — "Forgive my intrusion, Boss! But the district is under attack!"

  Derek’s expression froze.

  — "The hell did you just say?!" he roared, standing up abruptly. The sudden motion sent several of the women toppling onto the floor.

  — "They’re in the district, Boss! A man with an eyepatch, and three teenagers!"

  Derek clenched his fists.

  — "The Angel of Death... So, you've come straight to me." He let out a low chuckle. "Perfect. I'll show you that your time is long past."

  Without a second thought, he stormed toward the exit, not even bothering to put on a shirt. He wore only his green cargo pants, his black combat boots echoing with each step.

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  — "Alert Shu and Dégane. Tell them to meet me there."

  — "Right away, Boss!"

  Chaos spread through the district like wildfire.

  Zéno and his team tore through building after building, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The plan was simple, force everyone out, then dismantle the interior piece by piece.

  — "Do you really think this is gonna work, Master Zéno?" Ikku asked, smashing a wooden table with a forceful kick.

  — "If we make enough noise, the mafia won’t have a choice but to respond," Zéno replied calmly. "And when they do, we’ll have our path straight to their leader."

  — "I wonder what kind of people we’ll be facing," Yumé mused aloud.

  As if on cue, something sliced through the air at high speed.

  A massive axe, spinning like a deadly whirlwind, hurtled straight toward Yumé’s head.

  He barely dodged in time, the weapon embedding itself into the wall behind him with a deafening thud. He turned sharply toward the entrance, standing there was an absolute beast of a man.

  Derek.

  The giant ducked slightly to step inside, gripping another axe in his free hand. His presence alone sent an icy chill through the air, suffocating and oppressive.

  — "This guy’s way stronger than the last one," Carla muttered, her expression tense.

  — "What do we do, Master Zéno?" Ikku asked, readying himself.

  Zéno remained composed, his eyes locked onto Derek.

  — "Stay back for now. He might have called reinforcements. If he did, you’ll need to handle them. No mercy."

  Derek walked forward, casually retrieving his second axe as he completely ignored the young fighters, treating them as nothing more than insignificant obstacles.

  — "So, we finally meet, Zéno… The Angel of Death." A cruel smile spread across his lips. "I told you only one of us will walk away from this fight. And it sure as hell won’t be you."

  With explosive speed, he lunged, swinging his axe down in a devastating vertical strike.

  Zéno dodged effortlessly and countered with a horizontal slash. But Derek, despite his enormous size, moved with shocking agility he ducked and, using the momentum, pushed off his hands to deliver a brutal kick straight into Zéno’s guard.

  The impact sent Zéno flying, crashing through the walls and out into the open street.

  Derek followed without hesitation, stepping through the gaping hole he had just created.

  Ikku, Yumé, and Carla stood frozen.

  — "That guy is on a whole different level," Ikku murmured, wide-eyed. "If we tried to fight him, we’d only get in Master Zéno’s way."

  — "True," Yumé admitted. "But we should stay close. If we find an opening, we might be able to take him by surprise."

  But before they could act, a flash of light shot through the air.

  An arc of electricity struck Yumé, his body convulsing violently as he let out a pained scream before collapsing to the floor.

  — "YUMé!!" Carla cried out, rushing to his side in panic.

  A voice rang out from the hole in the wall.

  — "You should be more worried about yourselves."

  A man stepped through the opening, his casual demeanor at odds with the carnage around him. He had bronzed skin, a red beanie pulled low over his forehead, and dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. His outfit, a hoodie, joggers, and black sneakers gave him a laid-back appearance. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he surveyed them with an air of amusement.

  He exhaled a puff of smoke and smirked.

  — "The name’s Dégane. Remember it, it’s important to know the name of your executioner."

  Ikku cracked his knuckles.

  — "And we’re supposed to be scared?"

  Dégane chuckled.

  — "Not necessarily. You’re just supposed to die. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of that part."

  Ikku and Carla immediately took their fighting stances.

  — "Carla, I’ll handle the close combat. You back me up with your chains."

  — "Got it!" Carla nodded.

  A difficult battle awaited them. And this time, there was no room for mistakes.