The morning sun caught the brilliant crimson of Hanabi’s lips as she walked down the avenue. With a casual grace, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The movement made her dangling earrings jingle, a soft, musical sound against the background hum of the city.

She moved effortlessly through the morning crowd toward her favorite coffee shop. A few familiar faces called out greetings as she passed. She gave them a polite nod and a warm smile, her thumb tapping out a quick text on her phone before she slipped it into her pocket and pushed open the glass doors.

The cafe was warm, smelling of roasted beans and sweet pastries. Hanabi ordered her usual coffee and walked over to an empty table.

As she sat, her eyes instinctively drifted across the room. Four girls sat at a opposing table, huddled tightly over their drinks. They were giggling and whispering, their eyes constantly darting toward Hanabi before looking away. They thought they were being subtle, but Hanabi caught them with a sharp side-eye.

She let out a quiet sigh and turned her back to them.

The petty gossip brought back an old, familiar sting. Growing up, bad luck had clung to her like a shadow. It was always one disaster after another, until she turned fifteen. That was the year a middle-aged woman had stopped her on the street and handed her a good-luck bracelet.

Since that day, Hanabi had fought tooth and nail. It hadn't been easy—she had struggled, starved, and sacrificed—but she had finally done it. She had built her own business. A modest, beautiful little spa plaza.

Hanabi smiled to herself, visualizing the front of her shop, remembering the proud sigh that escaped her lips every time she stood outside and looked up at her own name on the sign.

Clink.

The sound of her coffee mug hitting the table pulled her out of the flashback. She picked up the cup, took a sip, and reached for her phone again.

Suddenly, the screen lit up. An incoming call.

She swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Hanabi! Thank god you picked up!" The voice on the line was frantic, breathless with pure terror. "There's been an accident! A massive truck just lost control—it crashed right into the spa!"

Hanabi froze, her breath catching in her throat.

"The appliances are exploding, Hanabi! Half the plaza just collapsed to the ground... oh god, the whole place is on fire! Some of the customers are still inside, they’re severely injured—"

Hanabi stood up so fast her knees slammed into the table. The phone stayed pressed to her ear, but her mind went completely numb. The call disconnected.

The ceramic mug slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor and splattering hot coffee across the tile.

She didn't care. She turned and ran.

She tried to keep her composure, moving in a breathless, panicking hurry past the table of gossiping girls. They stared at her, wide-eyed, immediately nudging each other as if wondering what kind of disaster had struck Hanabi’s life this time.

"Hey! Miss! What about the bill?" one of the cafe workers shouted, his voice echoing across the room just as Hanabi reached the exit.

Without even looking back, Hanabi shoved her hand into her purse, ripped out a fistful of cash, and threw it blindly over her shoulder. The bills fluttered through the air, scattering across the floor by the door as she burst out into the street.

She sprinted toward her car, her hands shaking so violently she could barely press the unlock button.

"Hanabi? Is everything alright?" a neighbor called out from across the street, noticing her frantic pacing.

"Yeah!" she lied through her teeth, her voice cracking.

She yanked the car door open, threw herself into the driver's seat, and slammed it shut with a heavy thud. She twisted the key, threw the car into drive, and slammed her foot onto the accelerator.

She drove like a maniac, weaving through lanes in a way she never normally would. But the universe was playing a sick joke. Just as she approached the main intersection, the traffic light turned a bright, mocking red.

"Damn it! No, no, no!"

She slammed on the brakes, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She tapped her fingers furiously against the leather, her mind racing. Every single dollar she had saved, every sleepless night, every sacrifice she made to build that spa flashed before her eyes. It couldn't all be gone. It couldn't be.

The light shifted to green.

Hanabi stomped on the gas with pure rage, the tires screeching as the car shot forward. She drove recklessly, cutting off corners. Angry horns blared behind her, and passing drivers shouted curses out their windows, but she didn't hear any of it.

Then, the engine sputtered.

The dashboard lights flickered and died. The accelerator went completely dead under her foot.

Hanabi’s mouth opened wide in sheer disbelief. "Are you serious right now?!"

She stomped on the pedal again and again, hitting it with furious force, but the car just coasted to a pathetic stop at the side of the road.

Desperate, she threw the door open and hopped out. Her only choice now was the bus.

She scanned the asphalt, but the road was completely empty of public transit—just a steady stream of private cars zooming past. Hanabi stood at the curb, throwing her thumb out, but the drivers didn't even tap their brakes.

Wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, she crossed to the opposite side of the road to try a different angle. She tossed her hair back, putting one hand on her waist and stretching her other arm out with her thumb up—forcing herself to look like a stunning, confident model just to get someone, anyone, to pull over.

Car after car passed her by.

"Get off the road!" a guy yelled at her in Japanese as his sports car sped past.

"Screw you!" Hanabi screamed back in furious Japanese, her temper completely snapping.

Exhausted, her heels aching, she resolved to just run the rest of the way to the spa. But just as all hope felt lost, she heard the heavy rumble of an engine behind her. She glanced back. A public bus was moving down the street, traveling unusually slow.

"Wait! Stop!"

Hanabi turned and ran after it, waving her arms wildly. "Please, stop the bus!"

Through the large glass windshield, she caught sight of the driver. He looked incredibly stiff, his face pale and nervous. As Hanabi ran alongside the vehicle, the driver’s head slowly, stiffly tilted forward, acknowledging her—but instead of braking, his foot hit the gas. The bus suddenly sped up, leaving her behind in a cloud of exhaust.

Hanabi stopped in the middle of the road, dropping her hands to her knees as she gasped for air. Tears of frustration pricked her eyes. She was right on the verge of a total emotional breakdown.

But then, the screech of heavy brakes echoed.

She snapped her head up. The bus had stopped about twenty yards ahead. The folding doors hissed open, and a lone hand reached out, gesturing urgently for her to hurry up and get on.

A wave of pure relief washed over her. "Thank God," she whispered, forcing her tired legs to sprint forward.

She clambered up the steps of the bus, immediately fumbling with her purse to find her wallet. "Thank you so much for stopping, I really—"

The words died in her throat.

Hanabi took a involuntary step backward, the cash freezing in her trembling fingers.

Sitting in the driver's seat was a man dressed entirely in tactical black, his face obscured by a dark mask. And pressed firmly against the side of the trembling driver’s temple was the cold, matte-black barrel of a handgun.

Hanabi’s heart stopped.

She slowly turned her head toward the back of the bus. The entire cabin was suffocating in a thick, terrifying silence. Passengers were huddled in their seats, paralyzed with fear. Some were weeping silently, hands clamped over their mouths to stifle their sobs.

And then she saw the dark stains. Crimson blood splattered across the vinyl seats, and the lifeless forms of both adults and children slumped awkwardly in the aisle.

Six more men in black masks stood positioned throughout the bus. Six more guns pointed directly at the heads of the remaining passengers.

A tidal wave of thoughts crashed into Hanabi's brain all at once—the fire, the car, the bus, the blood—overloading her system. The world tilted violently. Her knees gave out, and before her body even hit the blood-stained floor, darkness took her. Hanabi woke to the sound of a faint, muffled voice.

Her head throbbed. She tried to look around, but everything was pitch black. Her breathing became shallow and fast as she realized her head was trapped inside a heavy, coarse sackcloth.

Suddenly, a rough hand tapped her leg. Hanabi flinched back instantly, scrambling blindly against the floor.

"Get up!" a harsh voice ordered, yanking her to her feet by her bound arms.

Alongside the trembling remnants of the bus passengers, Hanabi was marched forward into the unknown. With her head forced down in sober despair, she could see nothing but the dirt beneath her feet, but the shifting sounds told her everything. They were entering a building. The heavy stomp of combat boots echoed off concrete, and a gruff voice welcomed the team back from the bus, answered by a chorus of rough, unfamiliar laughter. The gang was much larger than she thought.

The captives were brutally split up. Hanabi was shoved through a heavy metal door into a gloomy, windowless room illuminated only by the harsh glare of two bare bulbs. Three other passengers were thrown in alongside her.

Through the thick walls, the distant, muffled wailing of other captives echoed, followed by the sharp, terrifying crack of a gunshot. Hanabi’s heart skipped an erratic beat. She was shoved roughly into a wooden chair, and a coarse rope was bound tightly around her wrists behind her back.

With a violent tug, the mask was ripped from her head.

The sudden light blinded her for a second. As her eyes adjusted, the first thing she saw was a kidnapper standing a few paces away, casually cradling an AK-47.

She looked to her left. Two terrified passengers from the bus sat shivering in their chairs.

She looked to her right. Sitting next to her was a young man, his posture remarkably straight despite the ropes binding his wrists.

Hanabi dropped her gaze back to the floor. Her mind went completely blank, her eyes reflecting nothing but pure, unadulterated hopelessness. Beside her, the young man’s eyes lingered on her for a beat, taking in her defeated posture, before he looked back toward the front of the room.

Four kidnappers guarded the space, their presence suffocating.

Knock-knock.

A sharp rattle shook the metal door. The guard standing closest to the frame leaned his ear against the cold steel.

"We need two," a muffled voice muttered from the hallway.

Without a single moment's hesitation, the guard turned, raised his weapon, and fired.

Bang! Bang!

The deafening blasts echoed in the small room. Hanabi gasped, screaming into her choked throat as the two passengers to her left slumped over. She trembled violently, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she watched the guard casually drag the bleeding bodies across the concrete floor, leaving a sickening, bright red trail behind them.

Beside her, the man’s gaze merely shifted to the crimson streaks on the floor. His breathing remained perfectly, terrifyingly steady.

The shooter exited with the bodies, and another guard stepped into the room to lock the door behind him. Three kidnappers left. Two hostages remaining.

One of the guards stepped toward Hanabi, his boots clicking against the concrete. She dared not look up, burying her chin in her chest.

Tap... Tap... Tap.

A low, rhythmic sound echoed in the silence. The man beside her was slowly tapping his left foot.

"Calm down, miss," the kidnapper mocked, leaning down to peer into Hanabi's shivering frame. "We only needed two to fetch us a good ransom. But don't worry, your turn will come soon enough."

He barked out a cruel, booming laugh. The other two guards joined in, their obnoxious jeers filling the room. One of them reached out, roughly shoving Hanabi’s head sideways. Hanabi squeezed her eyes shut, her face darkening with pure misery as their laughter grew louder and more menacing.

Tap.. Tap.. Tap. The foot tapping beside her sped up.

"That's enough."

The voice cut through the laughter like a blade. It was loud, bold, and dripping with absolute annoyance.

The kidnappers' laughter died instantly. A heavy, shocked silence blanketed the room.

Hanabi’s eyes tracked up in slow disbelief. She looked past his chest, up to his face. He was a young Black man with rich, chocolate skin. He looked incredibly cool, entirely composed, taking a slow, deep breath as if he were simply waiting in line at a grocery store rather than staring down the barrels of three automatic rifles.

Who... who is this guy? Hanabi thought, a sudden, unexpected spark of wonder igniting through her terror.

"I am sick and tired of the three of you laughing and making damn noise," the man said, his voice deadly calm.

The kidnappers exchanged bewildered, angry looks, utterly baffled by his nerve.

"I have a lot on my mind right now, and I’m trying to think things through," he continued, turning his sharp gaze directly onto the lead guard. "But you idiots won't shut up. Standing there bullying a terrified girl like a bunch of schoolyard children... it's pathetic.

Do yourselves a favor: shut your mouths and keep quiet." The room remained in silence as the man sighed with relief.

The young Black man’s voice cut through the room like a blade, dropping a heavy, suffocating silence over the guards.

Hanabi kept her head lowered, her eyes wide in slow disbelief. The kidnappers' obnoxious laughter had vanished, replaced by a tense, vibrating quiet. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but for a split second, her mind drifted away from the immediate danger.

Why? she thought bitterly. Why did this always happen to me?

Ever since she was a child, whenever things started getting better, something would come along and destroy everything she had worked for. She had endured it all—the ridicule, the failures, the accidents, the endless bad luck. Even when her family stood beside her and encouraged her to keep moving forward, life always seemed determined to knock her back down.

Her spa was gone. People had been hurt. She was trapped in a room full of armed criminals, and judging by the gunshots echoing through the building, she might not even survive the day—all because she was cursed with bad luck.

For a brief moment, a dark thought crossed her mind. Maybe it would be easier to stop fighting. Maybe it would be easier to just give up.

Her eyes trembled.

No...

She rejected the thought instantly. She had sacrificed too much. Worked too hard. Cried too many tears. She couldn't throw all of that away. But she was tied to a chair, surrounded by kidnappers, and completely helpless.

Until this man spoke.

Hanabi’s eyes tracked up from the concrete floor, past his broad chest, and locked onto his face. He looked incredibly cool, entirely composed, staring down the barrels of three automatic rifles as if they were nothing.

The moment the kidnappers realized what he was saying, their shock twisted into explosive rage.

"Hehhh? Who the hell are you talking to? Are you mad?" the lead kidnapper hissed.

Scoffing in arrogance, the leader walked over to a table a few meters away, carelessly tossed his AK-47 onto it, and marched back toward the chairs. The other two guards followed closely behind him.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" one of them barked, aggressively shoving the unknown passenger's head. The man didn't even budge.

Infuriated by his lack of reaction, one of the side guards reared back and threw a heavy punch straight into his face. The man didn't even blink. He just held a cold, lethal death stare, locking his eyes directly onto the lead kidnapper.

The absolute defiance pushed the leader over the edge. "You piece of trash!"

The leader stepped up and unleashed a brutal barrage, punching the passenger five times in rapid succession. With every heavy blow, the man's head snapped backward.

"Now you shut your mouth!" the lead guard snarled, pointing a bloody knuckle at him.

The passenger's head remained turned to the right, his face still tilted from the force of the last punch.

The guard on the right chuckled. "He thinks he's kinda tough."

"Yeah... he might think so," the other two replied, exchanging smirks. The leader leaned in close, mocking him. "Where's that sharp, bold mouth of yours now? We aren't done teaching you a lesson yet."

Slowly, deliberately, the unknown passenger began turning his head back to face the leader.

"Was that it?" the passenger asked. He glanced up at the leader with a calm, emotionless stare, his expression laced with a hint of pure disappointment. "Was that all you got?"

The three guards froze, completely shocked by the steady, unbothered tone of his voice. Looking at his face, it was like he hadn't taken a single ounce of damage. He was completely fine.

The realization made their blood boil.

"You bastard!" the leader screamed.

The leader launched into a furious assault, raining down punches as the other two guards briefly joined in, throwing kicks and blows.

"You jerk, who the hell do you think you are?!" the leader roared, lunging forward to deliver one final, heavy haymaker.

CHNNK!

The sound of shattering iron echoed through the room. With a terrifying burst of raw, superhuman strength, the passenger snapped the heavy chains with his bare hands.

Before the guard on his left could even register the sound, the passenger launched out of the chair like an apex predator. He caught the guard's left arm—the one holding a rifle—and twisted it with brutal force before the man's instincts could even react.

CRACK!

The guard's elbow shattered completely. In the same split second, the passenger stripped the weapon cleanly from his useless grip.

BAM!

The leader's heavy fist struck nothing but empty air, smashing hard into the back of the wooden chair. He lurched forward, his posture bent and unbalanced.

"Argh!" the guard with the broken arm screamed, but the passenger didn't let him drop. Grabbing him by the vest, the passenger hurled the screaming guard directly into the guard on the right with immense force. The two men collided heavily, their heads smashing together in a daze as they stumbled backward.

The leader desperately tried to lift his upper body and turn toward the threat, but he was too slow. As his eyes tracked up to his right, the last thing he saw was a shadow eclipsing the light.

The passenger’s knee came driving upward like a piston, smashing squarely into the leader's face.

The impact was so violent it sent the lead guard flying through the air, his body flipping backward. But before he could even hit the ground, the passenger spun on his heel and violently kicked his airborne body straight at the other two guards.

The two guards were just starting to shake off their dizziness when their leader’s flying body slammed into them. The chain reaction sent all three flying back, their heads cracking hard against the concrete wall.

The two side guards collapsed, completely knocked out cold.

The entire three-on-one beatdown had taken less than five seconds.

Hanabi could only watch from her chair, her jaw dropped in utter shock. Her mind went completely blank, unable to process the raw, calculated violence she had just witnessed.

Silently, the passenger picked up the rifle he had seized from the first guard. He walked over to the wooden table where the other two firearms were resting. With fluid, terrifyingly practiced movements, his fingers flew across the weapons, disassembling them piece by piece, rendering them completely useless.

A groaning sound came from the pile of bodies.

The lead guard, clutching his bloody face and holding his throbbing head, staggered to his feet. He looked over at the table, his vision blurry, and spotted the passenger calmly stripping down the third and final rifle.

"You're awake," the passenger said, his tone almost bright as he slid the final bolt carrier out of the gun.

"You... you got lucky," the lead guard wheezed, cracking his neck and his waist as he tried to steady his stance. "And you're pretty fast, too. That's the only reason you got me. But this time, there won't be any luck left for you."

"Are you sure?" the passenger replied smoothly. He dropped the remaining disassembled parts onto the wood, leaning one hand casually against the table as he glanced back at the criminal. "I think I got you really good."

The leader raised both hands, curling his fingers in a menacing, arrogant gesture. "Then come show me if it really isn't luck, you son of a bitch."

The unknown passenger turned and walked out from behind the table, completely towering over the kidnapper. Both men slowly settled into their fighting stances and locked eyes.

For a moment, the room felt completely frozen. Their gazes burned like those of two predators preparing to tear each other apart, entirely ready for the real fight to begin.

Both men stood frozen in their fighting stances.

The room fell silent. Hanabi watched the two men facing each other, her mind completely blank as she looked at the criminal and then turned her gaze to the passenger, a small spark of reliance finally appearing in her eyes.

Then, without warning, they moved.

Both fighters lunged forward at the same time.

The lead guard threw a powerful right punch toward the unknown passenger's face. The passenger raised his right arm and blocked the strike, immediately countering by driving his knee toward the guard's stomach.

But the guard reacted instantly.

Instead of retreating, he shifted his body sideways, falling toward his left while catching the passenger's incoming leg with his hand. Using the passenger’s momentum, he pulled upward and launched himself into the air, twisting his body horizontally.

BAM!

His kick crashed into the passenger's chest, forcing him backward.

Hanabi's eyes widened.

But the passenger didn't fall.

His feet slid across the concrete for only a moment before he regained his balance.

The lead guard landed smoothly and immediately advanced.

One step.

Two steps.

Three.

Then he stopped.

With his right foot forward and his left leg slightly behind, he raised his hands and slowly brushed them together, almost like he was casually dusting something off.

The unknown passenger simply watched him. With a small smirk on his lips, he raised his left hand slightly, signaling the lead guard to come at him.

The lead guard charged toward him and jumped, spinning to deliver a back left kick. But the passenger weaved beneath the kick to the right.

The lead guard landed on both feet and made a slight left turn, blocking his head with his right elbow, fully expecting a punch or kick to the head. But the passenger grabbed his shoulders, pulled himself up and toward the lead guard, and drove a very hard knee strike into his back—breaking a rib on his back.

"Arggh!" the lead guard exclaimed.

The force pushed him several steps forward. He barely gained his balance, bent over and holding his back in pain. It was as if his spine had been hit with a heavy steel baseball bat, almost bringing tears to his eyes.

He turned his head backward to his right. He was furious, his eyes turning blood-red with rage.

The unknown passenger stood and glanced at the lead guard nonchalantly, looking down on him and gazing at his broken back. But it looked like the man could still fight.

"You bastard," the lead guard said angrily as he cracked and straightened his back, forcing himself to continue fighting while enduring the agony. He turned toward the passenger and stood firmly. "I'm gonna kill you."

"And how're you gonna do that?" the unknown passenger said. He took a steady breath, placing his right leg slightly forward and his left leg backward, raising both hands to signal for him to come. "Let's end this."

"Today you die," the lead guard said calmly, his voice dripping with pure rage. With an angry face, he pulled a dagger into his left hand in a menacing way.

The unknown passenger stared at the dagger and blinked his eyes at the lead guard.

Suddenly, the lead guard pulled out another dagger with his right arm.

The unknown passenger's eyes immediately widened a fraction, locking into a serious, lethal mode as he gazed at the twin daggers. The lead guard was breathing heavily with anger, but otherwise, the room was dead silent.

The space remained calm and quiet for a tense moment as Hanabi watched, her head turned fully toward her left side.

The passenger raised both hands, his voice carrying a serious, dangerous calm.

"Come on then."

They both charged. The lead guard rushed forward, screaming, and it seemed the passenger became a bit annoyed by the noise. The guard lunged, driving his left hand downward to stab straight into the passenger's chest from above, while lifting his right hand to gut him from below.

But the unknown passenger had already seen through the attack.

He swiftly weaved out of the way, but the tip of the left dagger caught him, slicing a small cut across his right cheek. Capitalizing on the dodge, the passenger slid downward, diving straight between the lead guard's legs. He clamped his hands around both of the guard's ankles and pulled with immense, forceful strength.

With a violent yanking motion, the passenger swept the legs completely.

The lead guard slammed face-first onto the concrete floor with incredible force, his weapons clattering away as he lost his grip on both daggers. The impact shattered his nose, and a small stream of blood began spilling from his mouth and nose onto the cold tile. He tried to lift his face, forcing his trembling body up to keep fighting, but he had become too weak. His vision was turning blurry, and his limbs felt completely numb.

In that exact split second, the unknown passenger scrambled up onto the back of the dazed guard, flipped him over onto his back, and wrapped his forearms securely around his neck.

He locked in a tight rear-naked chokehold, attempting to snap his neck.

The lead guard tried desperately to resist with both hands, but his strength was completely spent. He could only claw weakly at the passenger's iron forearms, hitting them in a slow, tired rhythm while making choked, desperate gasping noises.

"You know, you're a pretty good fighter," the unknown passenger muttered coldly as the criminal struggled for his life beneath him. "But I can't waste any more time with you since there are more of you outside. I have to end you quickly."

The passenger tightened his grip, applying maximum pressure to finish the execution, until his head turned slightly forward.

And then his eyes suddenly widens when it locked with Hanabi's eyes.

The moment they made eye contact, Hanabi quickly snapped her head back to face forward as she was frozen her eyes on the ground which she spots one of the dagger that the criminal losed ahead of her.

The passenger paused, glancing down at the choking guard’s face. A serious expression washed over him, his eyes reflecting a sudden decision.

He abruptly released his locked arms from the guard's throat. Reaching up, he drove both of his thumbs forcefully into the sides of the lead guard's skull, piercing a high-pressure nerve point.

The lead guard's eyes widened, his mouth flying open in a silent shock. His raised hands went completely limp, hitting the ground with a dull thud as he passed out cold.

The passenger pushed the unconscious body aside and stood up, rolling his shoulders. Beside him, Hanabi remained sitting rigid in her chair, facing straight ahead, her eyes filled with a racing, desperate question: What is going to happen to me next? But then her eyes suddenly got serious with a desperate thought she had to survive and locked in while gazing at the dagger. All she could hear now was steps of the unknown passenger approaching from behind her. The unknown passenger walked towards her slowly while glancing at the chains tied against her hands behind the chair.

STEP STEP STEP which followed with a clattering sounds of chains behind her. She tilted her head backward a very bit immediately she heard this it was the unknown passenger setting her free.

Immediately the chain loosened a glint of white sparkle lit on Hanabi's left eye end when she faced ahead as she locked in and quickly charged towards the dagger on the ground picking it and quickly turned and pointed out the dagger with her left hand with her left leg on the chair.

While the unknown passenger who hadn't realized that was happening yet was raising his body up and then his eyes gazed at Hanabi's waist then towards up her face which had a serious look, her left arm was stretched out but he could only see half of it, Immediately he gazed downward he discovered her hand with a dagger was pointed towards his chin then he glanced back at her.

"what are yo-" before he could finish his sentence as he raised both arms Hanabi immediately cut in.

"Do not say a damn word, I'm in charge now", said Hanabi said with a serious confident face. But the unknown passenger knew she was trying to act calm and composed like she isn't frightened.