Agent 47 stood before the mirror in his Tokyo hotel room. His freshly delivered suit, a long-collared masterpiece tailored by Tommy Clemenza, fit like the final piece of a puzzle. Black, razor-edged, and crisp — the jacket hung open to reveal the white dress shirt beneath. His red tie was neatly knotted, and the raised collar framed his chiseled face like a blade's edge. The silverballers were holstered at his waist, and a fiber wire coiled silently in his inner pocket like a sleeping serpent. No chest holsters this time — clean, efficient, deliberate.
He ran a hand through the air before him.
The Nexus System responded instantly.
[STATS]
Strength: 127
Dexterity: 129
Endurance: 115
Reflexes: 141
Intelligence: 108
Perception: 132
Stealth: 140
[LEGENDARY PERKS]
Matter Creation: (Active) Manifest any object you can vividly imagine into existence. Energy cost applies.
Adaptive Instinct: (Passive) Body auto-adjusts to supernatural threats. Reaction speed and awareness scale in real time with the danger level.
His black eyes scanned the new tab.
[NEW CONTRACT AVAILABLE]Target(s):
Jogo
Hanami
Kenjaku
Priority Level: AbsoluteStatus: Must eliminate targets separately.Locations: Encrypted – will be revealed one by one.
Message from: ???"You've done better than expected, pawn. I like surprises. Let's see how far you can go."
Sender: The Administrator
47's jaw set. For the first time, a crack in the wall — someone was behind the Nexus.
He tapped the "Accept" command with a gloved finger. A pulse of blue light passed over his body as the system locked in the contract.
The first target was displayed:
Target 1: JogoLocation: Mount Zao – Volcanic TrailStatus: High-Alert Class CurseDanger Level: Extreme
Reward: "???"
47 pocketed the phone, his mind already calculating.
The Cursed Alliance's Hideout
Kenjaku slammed a palm into the table, rattling glass and stone.
"Mahito. Dead. One of our most volatile weapons—gone."
Jogo's eye flared. "And by a human at that!! A non-sorcerer?!"
Hanami's vines coiled tighter. "Not even part of Jujutsu High... this reeks of something deeper."
Kenjaku stepped forward, the face of Suguru Geto twisting into a cold calm."We underestimated this... assassin."
"I'll go," Jogo growled. "I'll find who did it."
Kenjaku nodded slowly. "I told you already, do it. But be smart. He's not an average mortal. If Mahito died... expect the worst."
Tokyo Nightfall
Agent 47 descended the stairs of his hotel. His steps were silent, measured, but radiated purpose. He passed neon-lit alleys, vending machines humming, the bustle of Tokyo streets unaware of the quiet storm they harbored.
In his mind, he calculated angles, cover points, expected ambushes, even the expected temperature gradient around a volcanic region. Adaptive Instinct flickered passively beneath his thoughts — his eyes were just a little faster, his perception a little deeper, his reactions now built to handle not just bullets, but curses.
A mission had begun.
Jogo would soon understand what it meant to be hunted by a legend.