While transferring the tamashkii core to a client of the organization, the Old Man notices a car tailing him.

  He instructs his driver to pull over. Just as the car slows, a tire bursts with a fsh of smoke.

  The driver, rattled, calls out, “Sir, for this car to be damaged like that, it’d take the work of a Heishi—or someone on your level!”

  “Tch, so they’ve finally decided to stop hiding in the shadows, huh?” The Old Man mutters. “I’ll take care of it; you just get out of here!”

  Seizing the moment, the man snatches his briefcase and leaps from the moving vehicle.

  Landing with graceful precision, he unsheathes his knife in one swift, deliberate motion.

  Almost immediately, the cloaked enemy—a lithe, agile fighter who is clearly no amateur—draws their own bde.

  Their knives meet in a cascade of sparks. For several tense beats, the two engage in a deadly dance.

  The man’s movements are refined and measured, each strike a testament to his honed skill; meanwhile,

  His opponent’s swings are unpredictable and explosive. They circle one another along the road, backflipping over cars and exchanging precise parries.

  In every motion, it’s clear that if either were to fully commit, they could end the duel instantly—yet both hold back, teasing their true power.

  In a separate panel, away from the immediate fray, we catch sight of a teen boy.

  He isn’t in the midst of the battle—he’s off to the side, chasing after his wandering cat, which has been drawn toward the commotion.

  We then focus back to the fight. At one critical moment, a wild, aggressive attack from the cloaked fighter nearly finds its mark.

  Sensing the imminent danger, the man instinctively uses his briefcase as a parry.

  The briefcase is sshed open, and its cord unspools in a fsh.

  Without missing a beat,the man snatches the loose cord—an improvised maneuver that provides just enough distraction for both fighters to break away and race into a narrow alley.

  There, the Old Man slices through the enemy’s cloak, revealing a beautiful girl. “I knew it had to be you,” the man remarks.

  “So, my fme’s that famous? Guess I really am something,” the girl retorts with a pyful smirk.

  The Old Man ughs. “It wasn’t your fmes—you popped our tire, got my driver, even had a road fight with me. Yet, there were no civilian casualties. You’re the only one in your filthy organization who actually cares about people. I respect that, so I’m giving you a chance to back off. A kid like you should leave this life before the real bastards get to ya. Don’t ya think?”

  The girl’s gaze drops and the Old Man senses guilt in himself.

  “Look, I may have been harsh, but I’m serious—”

  “Quiet, old man!” she roars, fmes dancing above her but a sense of tension in her voice. “I’ve already met the real bastards so it’s a little te for that. I’ll kill you, seize that core, and sughter a hundred more to prove you wrong.”

  Just as knives are about to csh, a cat appears with its owner not far behind.

  “Neko?” the Old Man calls, and both fighters instantly cease their hostilities. The teen, chasing the cat, picks it up and apologizes as he begins to leave.

  The girl stops him, insisting, “Please, save me, mister—I’ll do anything. This old man here is stealing from me.”

  The teen looks the girl in the eyes and in that instant—his heart races; he blurts, “I’ll help with whatever you need, madam.”

  The Old Man warns, “Don’t fall for her nonsense, kid,” but the teen is already entranced.

  With a wicked smile, the girl shouts, “Please save me, mister—I’ll do anything!”

  The teen, emboldened, postures up. “Listen, kid—you’re outmatched. This isn’t your fight. We’re dealing with matters that can change the world, so stay out!” the Old Man admonishes, unleashing his aura.

  The girl nearly loses her footing but grabs a nearby box, “Is this Hoju level aura? It makes me feel the same way sensei’s does but this is for sure a bit weaker.” She muses.

  The Old Man’s eye shifts color in stunned disbelief as he watches the teen stand firm.

  “There’s not many who can resist my aura… Who is this kid?” he wonders.

  The girl’s face is also stunned. “I’ve only seen one other person do that before… and I wish he was rotting in hell.”

  She thinks while gritting her teeth.

  The boy stands firm. “You’re right—I shouldn’t get involved. But when someone needs help, you act. Questions come ter,” the teen replies with a confident smile. “Especially if it’s a beautiful dy!”, he excims.

  In a fsh, the teen snatches the core from the Old Man’s hand with pure agility and decres, “If I’m the one holding it, then everything’s fine right?!” Then he leaps onto the roof with an insane jump and races away.

  The Old Man and the girl immediately give chase and exchange bickering:

  “Can’t you stop him the same way you started him?!” the Old Man yells.

  “Sadly, my beauty is overbearing—once it takes over, there’s nothing I can do. I’m simply a complete package, teehee,” the girl retorts, sticking out her tongue.

  The Old Man cps his hands; a burst of pressure blows the teen off the roof.

  “YOU KILLED HIM?!” the girl excims.

  The Old Man, blinking bnkly, replies, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t—and even if I did, he’s kind of an enemy to both of us right now.”

  Peering over the edge, they see the teen rebound off a building wall, beginning a daring wall-run.

  The Old Man quips, “Looks like your new boyfriend isn’t just gonna hand over the core.”

  The girl, blushing, retorts, “New boyfriend? I mean he is kind of handsome. But I barely know him!”

  After a sharp cp, she shouts, “How dare you hit me!”

  The Old Man sighs, “You never learn to keep quiet.”

  While escaping, the teen spots a child in peril mid-road.

  Without hesitation, he tosses the core over a truck, slides underneath with the child in his arms, and catches the core on the other side—then continues onward.

  He briefly thinks “Man, if the kids saw me now, they’d think I was the coolest person alive.”

  The Old Man witnessing this act, stops in awe.

  A fshback stirs within him—a memory of past mistakes—and he decides to pce his faith in the teen.

  “When you have someone to protect, you grow stronger,” he mumbles. “Is that the strength that this boy dispys, ancient one?”

  The Old Man raises his hand toward the fleeing teen.

  “Make sure you hit him this time!” the girl shouts.

  The Old Man, throwing her for a loop, decres, “Core Activate!”

  “THERE’S NO WAY YOU JUST—” she begins, but before she can finish, the Old Man vanishes from the rooftop.