---

DEATH BILL – EPISODE 1

Prologue: The Night of Blood and Fire

The Del Tiero mansion, a symbol of wealth and power, stood tall beneath the moonlit sky. Its halls were silent, the only sound being the faint ticking of an antique clock in the grand living room. It was a peaceful night. Too peaceful.

Then, the first gunshot shattered the silence.

Glass exploded from the windows as masked figures stormed inside. The security detail barely had time to react before bullets tore through them, their bodies collapsing like puppets with severed strings. Blood splattered across the pristine marble floors.

Upstairs, Alexier Del Tiero, just seventeen, jolted awake at the sound of gunfire. His younger sister, Eliana, rushed into his room, her tear-streaked face twisted in fear.

“Alex—someone’s inside! They—they’re killing everyone!”

His heart pounded as he grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the hidden panel in his closet—a small escape route built into the house’s design. “Stay here. Don’t make a sound,” he whispered, shoving her inside. “No matter what happens, don’t come out.”

Before she could protest, the door to his room burst open.

A towering figure, dressed in black with a skull-patterned mask, stood at the threshold. The intruder didn’t hesitate—he raised his gun. BANG.

Pain ignited in Alexier’s chest as he was thrown back onto the bed. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. His body went cold, but through the haze of pain, he saw Eliana’s terrified face peeking from the closet.

No—don’t look. Don’t come out.

Then, more footsteps. His father, Leon Del Tiero, stormed into the hallway with a handgun. “You bastards!” he roared, firing off a shot. It struck one of the attackers, but there were too many.

Another gunshot rang out. His father staggered, then collapsed to his knees. Blood poured from the hole in his forehead.

His mother’s desperate screams followed. “Please—please, take anything you want! Just don’t—”

Another shot. Then silence.

Alexier lay there, half-conscious, staring at his parents’ lifeless bodies. His fingers twitched, trying to move, to stop this nightmare—but his body wouldn’t obey.

The masked attackers whispered among themselves. “He’s still alive. Finish him.”

Then—footsteps.

A pair of polished leather shoes entered his blurry vision, stepping over the bodies. The masked men hesitated. A deep voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the tension.

“Leave him.”

One of the assassins growled. “But the order was—”

“Do you wish to defy me?”

Silence. Then, one by one, the killers retreated into the shadows.

Through the fading light in his eyes, Alexier saw the man kneel beside him. A hand pressed against his bleeding chest.

"You won’t die here," the man murmured.

The last thing Alexier saw before darkness took him was the flicker of an unknown symbol engraved on the man’s glove.

The Price of Survival

The steady beeping of a heart monitor echoed in the dimly lit hospital room. A frail figure lay motionless on the bed, his once-strong body reduced to a mere shadow of what it had been. Alexier Del Tiero had spent the last three years drifting between life and death, confined within these sterile white walls.

His eyes, now dull and hollow, stared blankly at the ceiling. Memories of blood, screams, and the cold laughter of his enemies haunted his every waking moment. The massacre of his family played on an endless loop in his mind—their corpses lifeless, his home in flames, and the mysterious figure in polished leather shoes standing over him before darkness swallowed everything.

For three years, Meryl, his nurse, had been his only companion. She had been there when his body convulsed in pain, when he screamed in his nightmares, and when his voice had been too weak to form words. But Alexier never truly spoke—not about his past, not about his grief.

Today, however, something was different.

Alexier slowly sat up, his body aching from years of disuse. His muscles protested, but he ignored them. He had lost too much time. He couldn't afford to be weak any longer.

Meryl, noticing the shift in his demeanor, approached cautiously.

"Alexier? You're pushing yourself too hard. You still need to recover."

His hazel eyes flickered toward her, determination burning beneath the exhaustion. "I can't stay here anymore."

She flinched at the finality in his tone.

"Where would you even go?" she asked, trying to mask the concern in her voice.

Alexier didn't answer. He didn't know. He had no home, no money, no family. But he couldn't remain trapped in this hospital, suffocating in the weight of his past.

Meryl bit her lip, hesitating before finally asking, "Are you looking for something... or someone?"

A long silence stretched between them.

Finally, Alexier muttered, "I don't know."

But deep down, a name haunted him. The man with leather shoes—the one who had saved him that night. Who was he? Why had he bothered saving someone as broken as Alexier?

Meryl clenched her fists. She had spent three years watching over him, growing attached despite knowing he would eventually leave.

"If you go now, you'll be walking straight into a world that has forgotten you," she whispered.

Alexier smirked bitterly. "Good. It means I can start over."

Before she could protest, he stood, steadying himself against the IV pole. His legs trembled, his vision swam, but he gritted his teeth and took his first real step toward the door.

Meryl swallowed the lump in her throat. "At least... let me help you one last time."

He turned, eyes questioning.

She handed him a worn hoodie, a pair of jeans, and an old pair of sneakers. "They belonged to my brother. They're not much, but they'll get you started."

Alexier hesitated before accepting them. He wasn't good at saying thanks. Instead, he simply nodded.

As he changed, Meryl sighed, forcing a small smile. "You have nothing right now, Alexier. No money, no food, no plan. You're walking into a storm unarmed. But..." she paused, "I hope you find whatever you're looking for."

He didn't respond. Instead, he pulled the hoodie over his head, shoved his hands into the pockets, and walked out without looking back.

Meryl watched him go, blinking away the sting in her eyes.

"Goodbye, Alexier."

Outside, the city was loud and overwhelming. People bustled past him, cars honked, neon signs flickered in the evening glow. It had been years since he had seen the world like this—so alive, so indifferent.

His stomach clenched in hunger. His body was weak. But none of that mattered.

He had survived. And now, he would find the truth.

Even if it killed him.

---

TO BE CONTINUED...

---

DEATH BILL – EPISODE 2

"Lost in the Crowd"

The cold wind nipped at Alexier’s skin as he stepped out into the city’s overwhelming chaos. Three years had passed since he had last walked these streets, and yet, the world had moved on without him.

He didn’t belong here anymore.

His stomach growled loudly, a painful reminder that he hadn’t eaten in hours. The few bills Meryl had slipped into his pocket wouldn’t last long.

As he wandered, his legs felt heavier with every step. He found himself drawn to a nearby park, where the flickering streetlights cast long shadows across the empty benches.

Alexier sat down, pulling the hoodie tighter around him. He leaned his head back, staring up at the night sky.

The stars.

A memory surfaced—his sister.

"Alex, when I grow up, I want to be an astronomer!" she had once said, her bright eyes full of dreams.

His hands clenched into fists.

She was gone.

And he had nothing left.

His chest ached, and for the first time in years, he let the tears fall.

People walked by, barely sparing him a glance. No one cared about the broken man crying on a park bench.

And maybe that was for the best.

---

MEANWHILE...

A sleek black car pulled up to a modern estate, its tinted windows reflecting the pale moonlight.

On the balcony, overlooking the vast forest, stood a man dressed in an elegant black suit. His long raven hair was neatly tied back, his sharp golden eyes focused on the horizon.

His name was Raiven.

Behind him, the glass door slid open. A Japanese man in his thirties, wearing a leather jacket and jeans, stepped out. His shaggy blonde-brown hair and eyeglasses made him look casual, but the sharpness in his gaze revealed a seasoned killer.

Kenji.

"You called me?" Kenji asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Raiven didn’t turn around. "He’s awake."

Kenji raised an eyebrow. "Alexier?"

A small nod.

"Took him long enough." Kenji scoffed. "So, what now?"

Raiven finally turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "You’ll watch over him. But do not approach him directly. Not yet."

Kenji frowned. "You saved that kid, and now you want me to stalk him? What’s the deal, Raiven?"

Raiven’s golden eyes darkened.

"Because I owe his father a great debt. And because..." he hesitated before murmuring, "he’s going to need us soon."

Kenji clicked his tongue. "And if he doesn’t want our help?"

Raiven smirked. "Then make him want it."

Kenji chuckled. "Alright, alright. I’ll play babysitter. But I’m not going easy on him."

"Good." Raiven’s gaze drifted toward the city. "Because neither will the world."

---

DEATH BILL – EPISODE 3

"The First Encounter"

Heavy rain poured over the city, drenching the empty streets in a silver haze.

Alexier’s footsteps were slow and unsteady as he walked along the roadside, his thin clothes soaked through.

His body felt numb.

Cold.

Hungry.

Empty.

The world around him was a blur. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t care.

His mind replayed the past—the massacre, the loss, the shattered future he could never reclaim.

He didn’t even notice the red traffic light.

Didn’t see the headlights glaring through the rain.

Didn’t hear the blaring horn—

Until strong hands yanked him back.

Alexier gasped as his body collided against someone’s chest. The sudden force snapped him out of his daze, his breath hitching.

The truck roared past, barely missing him.

For a moment, everything was silent except for the sound of the rain.

Then—

"The hell is wrong with you, kid?"

Alexier blinked, still disoriented.

The man gripping his arm was taller, dressed in a black leather jacket over a dark hoodie. His blonde-brown hair was wet from the rain, his glasses slightly fogged up. But what stood out the most was the sharpness in his gaze—calculating, amused, but also irritated.

"Were you trying to get yourself killed, or are you just stupid?" the man asked, tilting his head.

Alexier scowled and jerked his arm away. "Who the hell are you?"

The man let out a low chuckle. "You really don’t know? Damn, this is going to be fun."

Alexier had no idea what that meant, but he didn’t care. He turned to walk away—

His legs gave out.

The world tilted, and before he hit the pavement, the man caught him again.

"Tch. You’re really making this difficult."

Alexier barely registered the sensation of being lifted up before everything went dark.

---

LATER…

The scent of something warm and familiar stirred Alexier from unconsciousness.

His eyes fluttered open, his body wrapped in a thick blanket. The dim glow of a kitchen light cast shadows across the unfamiliar room.

He slowly sat up. His wet clothes had been replaced with fresh ones, slightly oversized but dry.

His gaze drifted to the kitchen.

There, standing by the stove, was the man from earlier—Kenji.

"You’re awake." Kenji glanced over, smirking. "Thought you’d sleep forever."

Alexier narrowed his eyes. "Where the hell am I?"

"My condo." Kenji casually stirred whatever he was cooking. "You passed out on me. Figured I should bring you somewhere safe."

Alexier clenched his fists. "I didn’t ask for your help."

Kenji chuckled. "Yeah? Well, I didn’t ask to save your sorry ass either. Guess we’re even."

Alexier was about to retort when his stomach growled loudly.

Kenji smirked. "Ah, there it is. The sound of a man with no money and no options."

Alexier glared at him.

Kenji walked over, setting a bowl of steaming food on the table. "Eat. Then you can hate me all you want."

Alexier hesitated.

Then, hunger won over pride.

He picked up the spoon and ate in silence.

Kenji watched him, leaning against the counter.

"Listen, kid." His voice was oddly serious now. "You have two choices. Keep wandering the streets until you drop dead, or—"

He leaned closer, his smirk returning.

"—stick with me and learn how to make those bastards pay."

Alexier paused, the spoon hovering mid-air.

He didn’t trust this man.

But for the first time since waking up, revenge felt within reach.

---

TO BE CONTINUED..

---

DEATH BILL – EPISODE 4

"A New Beginning"

The morning light barely touched the dark-tinted windows of Kenji’s high-rise condo. Alexier sat on the couch, staring at the floor, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of the clothes Kenji had given him.

Last night felt like a fever dream.

Rescued by a stranger.

Fed by a stranger.

And now—stuck in the home of a man he didn’t trust.

Across the room, Kenji leaned back on the kitchen counter, sipping coffee, watching Alexier with an amused smirk.

"So. What's your plan, kid?"

Alexier exhaled sharply. "I don’t have one."

"Yeah, no shit." Kenji set his mug down. "That’s why I’m asking."

Alexier looked up, scowling. "Why do you even care?"

Kenji chuckled, pushing himself off the counter. He walked over and plopped down on the couch beside Alexier, invading his space without a care.

"Let’s just say I like lost causes." Kenji stretched his arms over the back of the couch. "And you, my friend, are the saddest, most hopeless cause I’ve seen in a while."

Alexier clenched his jaw, irritation flaring.

Kenji grinned at his reaction. "Relax. I’m offering you something. A deal, if you will."

Alexier narrowed his eyes. "A deal?"

Kenji leaned in slightly, his smirk never fading. "Stick with me. I’ll give you a roof over your head, food, and—if you’re a good boy—" he tapped a finger against Alexier’s forehead, "—I might just teach you how to get revenge."

Alexier didn’t flinch, but something inside him twisted.

Revenge.

The word lit a fire in his chest, one that had been dying out for too long.

"And what do you get?" Alexier asked, his voice quieter now.

Kenji shrugged. "Entertainment. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’ve got potential."

Alexier looked away. His heart was racing, but he kept his expression neutral.

Kenji suddenly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him.

"But let’s get one thing straight, kid." His voice was smooth, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. "If you accept my offer, you don’t get to back out. You listen to me. You follow my orders. No whining, no running away."

His grip was firm but not painful.

"Do we have a deal?"

Alexier hated the idea of being controlled by someone again.

But he hated his weakness even more.

After a long silence, he exhaled. "...Fine."

Kenji’s smirk widened. "Atta boy."

He let go of Alexier’s chin and clapped his hands.

"Great! First order of business—" Kenji’s eyes scanned Alexier up and down, then he grimaced.

"You look like a damn beggar. We’re getting you cleaned up."

Alexier blinked. "What—?"

Before he could react, Kenji grabbed his wrist and dragged him out the door.

---

SCENE CHANGE – THE SHOPPING DISTRICT

Alexier hated every second of it.

Kenji had practically thrown him into a high-end clothing store, forcing him into various outfits while making obnoxious commentary.

"Too stiff."

"Too edgy."

"Now you look like a sad little rich boy."

At some point, Alexier just gave up resisting.

The worst part?

Kenji deliberately took him to the men’s underwear section just to mess with him.

"What about this one?" Kenji held up a pair of black silk boxers, grinning. "Or are you more of a cute-pattern guy?"

Alexier snatched the nearest thing off the rack and shoved it into the basket. "Shut up."

Kenji just laughed.

---

SCENE CHANGE – BACK AT THE CONDO

Kenji leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching as Alexier stood in front of a mirror, staring at his transformed reflection.

Gone was the ragged, unkempt man who had wandered the streets like a ghost.

In his place stood someone who almost looked like a person again.

His dark hair was trimmed, his face was sharper, and the fitted clothes Kenji had chosen made him look... normal.

But deep down, Alexier knew—this was just a mask.

The real him was still broken.

Still hungry for revenge.

Kenji smirked. "Not bad, kid. Almost makes you look like someone worth saving."

Alexier turned to him. "What’s next?"

Kenji’s grin widened.

"Training."

He tossed something at Alexier—

Alexier caught it.

A gun.

"Welcome to the real world, kid."

---

TO BE CONTINUED...

NEXT EPISODE: Alexier’s training begins.

He learns quickly that Kenji isn’t just some ordinary assassin—he’s ruthless, dangerous, and expects nothing less than perfection.

But Alexier isn’t a willing student.

He fights back, challenging Kenji at every turn.

Tension grows. Their dynamic shifts.

And as the training intensifies, Kenji sees something in Alexier he didn’t expect.

DEATH BILL – EPISODE 5

"A Killer’s Lesson"

The gun felt foreign in Alexier’s hand.

Its weight was heavier than he expected.

Kenji smirked as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Ever held one before?"

Alexier glanced down at the sleek, black pistol. "No."

Kenji’s smirk widened. "Good. That means I get to teach you from scratch."

He pushed off the counter and gestured for Alexier to follow.

"Come on, kid. We’re going somewhere special."

---

SCENE CHANGE – THE ABANDONED WAREHOUSE

The warehouse was cold and empty, its metal beams rusting with age.

A long table was set up near the center, covered in various weapons—knives, pistols, even a sniper rifle.

Alexier hesitated as Kenji casually walked over and grabbed another pistol, spinning it in his hand before aiming at a man-shaped target on the wall.

BANG.

A single shot.

Right between the eyes.

Alexier tensed.

Kenji turned to him, smirking. "Your turn."

Alexier swallowed his nerves and lifted the gun. His grip was awkward, fingers stiff.

"Tch. You're gripping it too hard."

Kenji walked up behind him and, without warning, grabbed Alexier’s hands, adjusting his fingers with a firm but deliberate touch.

Alexier stiffened at the unexpected closeness.

"Loosen up. You're holding a gun, not strangling it." Kenji’s voice was low, right near his ear.

Alexier scowled but followed his instructions.

Kenji took a step back. "Now, aim and shoot."

Alexier inhaled sharply, locking onto the target.

He pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The bullet missed completely, embedding itself into the wall.

Kenji laughed.

"Damn, that was pathetic."

Alexier gritted his teeth, anger flaring. "Shut up."

Kenji smirked. "What? You mad, kid?" He leaned in, taunting. "Wanna take that anger and do something with it?"

Alexier turned to him, eyes burning.

Kenji saw it—the fire.

Good.

This kid wasn’t weak.

Just untamed.

"Again." Kenji ordered.

Alexier refused to fail.

He lifted the gun—focused.

BANG.

This time, the bullet hit the target’s shoulder.

Kenji’s grin widened.

"Better."

---

SCENE CHANGE – NIGHTFALL, KENJI’S CONDO

Alexier collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. His arms ached from training, his legs felt like lead.

Kenji casually sat beside him, sipping a glass of whiskey.

"Not bad for a rookie." He glanced at Alexier. "But you still suck."

Alexier groaned, too tired to argue.

Kenji chuckled.

There was a strange silence between them.

For once, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Kenji studied Alexier—his determination, his hidden pain.

This kid had been through hell.

And yet, he still wanted to fight.

Kenji took another sip of his drink before setting it down.

"I’ll make a killer out of you yet, kid."

Alexier, half-asleep, muttered, "I don’t want to be a killer."

Kenji smirked, leaning back.

"We’ll see."

NEXT EPISODE: Alexier’s training gets brutal.

Kenji pushes him beyond his limits, forcing him into life-or-death situations.

Tensions rise. Their bond grows deeper.

But Kenji isn’t training him just for fun.

Because Alexier’s first real mission is coming.

And it will change everything.