Taiki stood alone on the balcony of the rooftop party, neon lights flashing behind him while the bass from the speakers pulsed through the concrete.

  His sunglasses were gone.

  His eyes were closed.

  He inhaled slowly.

  Deeply.

  The night air of Tokyo rolled over him, layered with perfume, alcohol, exhaust fumes, human sweat… and beneath it all, something sharper.

  Silver.

  Ash.

  Burned flesh.

  His nose twitched.

  A grimace flickered across his face.

  “…Ah, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

  He exhaled through his nose and rolled his eyes, irritation flashing across his features. Then, just as quickly, his expression shifted.

  A wide grin spread across his face.

  “Well now. That’s interesting.”

  He turned and strolled back inside, weaving effortlessly through dancing bodies and crimson drinks without spilling a drop. The rooftop terrace opened into the elevated private section where the Shogun held court.

  Astolfo stood guard at the entrance, towering and silent as ever, European blade wrapped at his side.

  Taiki shot him a wink as he passed.

  Astolfo did not react.

  Inside, the Shogun remained seated, posture immaculate, crimson eyes focused on the golden-ringed man across from him. The atmosphere was heavy, calculated.

  Taiki did not bother matching it.

  “Yo!”

  The word cut cleanly through the tension.

  The Shogun’s gaze shifted slowly toward him.

  “Why,” he asked calmly, “have you interrupted our meeting?”

  Taiki scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously, the bravado slipping just slightly.

  “Ahaha… yeah… so. Funny story. I’ve got some good news and some bad news.”

  The Duchess draped across the Shogun’s arm narrowed her red eyes at him, irritation sharp as a blade.

  “Lady Silla, cool your jets,” Taiki said quickly, palms raised. “It’s more good than bad. Trust me.”

  The Shogun did not smile.

  He did not frown.

  He simply circled his fingers slowly around the stem of his wine glass.

  “Speak.”

  Taiki shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, forcing a grin.

  “So, uh… you want the good news or the bad news first?”

  The Shogun’s crimson eyes did not change.

  “Speak,” he said calmly. “I will not repeat myself again.”

  Taiki laughed nervously.

  “Right. Yep. Of course. My bad.”

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  A bead of sweat rolled down his temple despite the cool night air.

  The golden-ringed man tilted his head slightly, azure eyes gleaming with interest.

  “Yes,” he added smoothly. “Do speak. I am quite interested.”

  Taiki swallowed.

  “Okay, so… bad news first then.” He clapped his hands together once. “One of the Inquisitors managed to take down Ratsuyo. They’ve… uh… kidnapped him.”

  The rooftop seemed to grow still.

  Lady Silla’s fingers tightened slightly against the Shogun’s suit. Her eyes flashed.

  Astolfo did not move.

  The Shogun remained composed.

  Only the faintest narrowing of his eyes betrayed that he had registered the information.

  The only one who did not look surprised was the golden-ringed man.

  Taiki noticed.

  Of course he noticed.

  “But!” Taiki raised a finger quickly. “Not to worry. Because here’s the good news.”

  The grin returned.

  “Tracking them was a pain, not gonna lie. Those Inquisitors are stupid fast. Like, disrespectfully fast. But…” He tapped the centre of his forehead . “I managed to follow their trail.”

  He straightened slightly.

  “I know where they’re holding Ratsuyo. Some old church downtown Shinjuku. Looks abandoned from the outside. Definitely not abandoned.”

  Silence followed.

  The Shogun leaned back slightly.

  “I see.”

  The golden-ringed man’s lips curved faintly.

  “How impressive,” he said, turning his gaze toward Taiki. “To track Inquisitors of that caliber so quickly. You have one exceptionally talented retainer.”

  Taiki tried to wave it off, though his chest puffed up just a little.

  “Ah, c’mon now, I just do what I can. Nothing crazy. Just good instincts. Natural talent. Hard work. A bit of genius.”

  The golden-ringed man’s eyes flicked back to the Shogun before continuing casually.

  “To locate their headquarters nearly as fast as I did, quite the accomplishment for a vampire that hasn't even passed his first year.”

  The words hung in the air.

  Polite.

  Sharp.

  Double-edged.

  The Shogun sensed it immediately.

  A lesser monarch might have bristled.

  He did not.

  “Yes,” he replied smoothly. “Taiki is undoubtedly a talent. One that will likely surpass the rest and become quite the powerful Monarch one day.”

  Taiki blinked.

  Then grinned wider.

  “Hey, I mean… if that’s the trajectory we’re working with, who am I to argue? I’ll just try not to disappoint, y'know.”

  Taiki was still basking in his own projected greatness when the Shogun’s amusement faded.

  The grin on Taiki’s face lingered a second too long.

  Then the Shogun lifted two fingers.

  Astolfo moved.

  No sound. No hesitation.

  The towering retainer stepped forward from the shadows as if the darkness itself had shaped him. The rooftop lights flickered across the grey wrappings that concealed his frame, the European blade at his side unmoving.

  The Shogun did not look at him at first.

  He kept his gaze on the city.

  “Tomorrow night,” he said calmly, “you will free Ratsuyo.”

  Lady Silla shifted slightly at his side, but said nothing.

  The Shogun’s crimson eyes lowered toward the streets far below.

  “Allow him to suffer for now. He failed. Pain will refine his loyalty.”

  Astolfo bowed once, deep and absolute.

  The Shogun motioned him back with a subtle flick of his hand.

  Astolfo returned to his position without a word, reclaiming the role of a silent executioner awaiting instruction.

  The golden-ringed man rose from his seat with unhurried elegance.

  “Then I shall take my leave.”

  The Shogun inclined his head just enough to make it seem like permission rather than dismissal.

  “You honor my domain with your presence.”

  A political performance. A showing of dominion.

  The golden-ringed man paid no mind. He simply passed Astolfo, placing a firm hand on his shoulder as he did.

  “Go easy on them,” he said mildly. “The time for their demise has not yet come.”

  Astolfo nodded once, silently, as the foreigner disappeared into the night.

  The party below continued, oblivious. Music pounded. Bodies danced. Crimson drinks flowed. Laughter rang out over Shibuya as if the world were not teetering on the edge of something catastrophic.

  The Shogun stepped forward to the terrace’s edge.

  Tokyo stretched before him. Endless. Glittering. Vulnerable.

  He rested a hand lightly on the hilt of the sheathed katana beside him.

  “Tomorrow,” he said softly.

  Not a raid.

  Not a retaliation.

  War.

  The Inquisitors had taken a Duke. They had drawn blood. They had entered his city and believed themselves unseen.

  Tomorrow, the illusion would shatter.

  Crimson eyes reflected the skyline as if it already burned.

  “Inquisitors,” he murmured into the wind.

  “Show me the extent of your will.”