Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

The rain fell hard that night, a relentless downpour that blurred the city’s edges into a smudge of neon and shadow. Taro Weston, a mere 13 years old, stood under the awning of an old convenience store, his eyes darting back and forth across the street. His thin coat did little to shield him from the cold, but it was better than nothing. He had learned to embrace the discomfort—pain was just another part of surviving.

It was the middle of the night, and the streets were empty, save for the occasional car passing in the distance. He knew better than to approach the other kids his age, the ones who hung out in the alleyways looking for trouble. They would turn on him in a second if it meant scoring a meal or a warm place to sleep. Taro had been abandoned at birth, left in a cardboard box outside a decrepit building. He had no family. No home. No one. And in a city like this, that meant you had to be quick. Smart. Cold.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He had learned long ago that hunger was temporary. Pain was temporary. Fear, too, could be pushed aside. What mattered most was survival. And survival meant knowing where the money was, where the deals were, and who could be trusted.

As the rain continued to pour, Taro moved through the dark streets like a ghost, silent and unseen. He had no destination in mind; there was no real safety for someone like him. But there was always something to scavenge, something to sell, something to steal. His hands were quick, and his mind even quicker. He had learned to read people’s faces like an open book. In the game of survival, it was a skill that often kept him one step ahead.

He walked past an alley where a couple of older boys were huddled together, their eyes fixed on the ground as they passed a joint between them. Taro kept walking, pretending not to notice, but he kept his senses alert. He had a job to do—just a simple trade, nothing big, just enough to get him through the night.

He had been working with a man named Ivan Karpov for a while now. Ivan was a dealer, a veteran in the underworld, and someone who didn’t ask questions. It was the kind of arrangement Taro had learned to make over the years—nothing personal, just business. He was good at it. The first time he sold a packet of drugs to a complete stranger, he was terrified. But the fear faded quickly when the cash was handed to him, and he realized how easy it was to take a little bit of power for himself.

The exchange tonight wasn’t much different. It was supposed to be simple—just a quick deal in the back of a rundown building near the docks. But when Taro arrived, he found the place empty. His gut twisted, and he immediately felt the weight of unease settle in his chest. Something wasn’t right.

Taro scanned the area, his eyes narrowing as he searched for any sign of movement. He wasn’t dumb enough to walk into a trap, but he also knew he couldn’t afford to walk away empty-handed. He needed that money, even if it was just enough for a meal and a place to sleep for the night.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows—a tall man with a deep scar across his cheek. Ivan.

“Thought you weren’t showing up,” Ivan said, his voice gruff, but his eyes narrowed as if he were assessing Taro. “You’re late.”

“I don’t do late,” Taro replied, his voice steady. “You weren’t here when I arrived. I’m not stupid, Ivan. This could’ve been a setup.”

Ivan laughed, a sound that echoed through the alley. “You think I’d set you up, kid? Nah. I’ve got better things to do than play games with a street rat like you.”

Taro didn’t flinch at the insult. He had heard worse over the years. The rain continued to fall, creating a dull roar that drowned out the sounds of the city. The world felt distant, like Taro was disconnected from it all—like he was floating above the chaos, watching it unfold below him.

He handed over the package of pills wrapped in plastic. “It’s all there,” he said.

Ivan didn’t even check. He just tossed the money into Taro’s hand, a quick exchange, no more words needed.

But as Taro took the cash, something shifted in the air. A strange noise, faint but distinct, echoed from the shadows.

Taro’s eyes darted to the source, his muscles tensing. Something was wrong. Ivan didn’t seem to notice, but Taro’s instincts were sharp, honed by years of surviving on the streets. He turned to leave, but as he took a step, the sound grew louder.

A group of men emerged from the darkness, surrounding him in an instant. Taro’s heart raced, but he didn’t panic. He never panicked.

“You’re in the wrong place, kid,” one of the men said, his voice low and threatening. The others chuckled, but their eyes were cold, calculating.

Taro clenched his fists. He had no weapon. No backup. Just himself.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” he said calmly, his voice as cold as the rain falling around them. “Just here for the deal and nothing more.”

The man smirked, stepping forward. “The thing is, we don’t care what you’re here for.”

The men moved in. Taro’s mind raced. He could fight. He could take them down, one by one. He was fast. But there were too many of them. He’d have to outsmart them, play the game like he always had.

With a swift movement, Taro reached into his jacket, pulling out a small knife he had stolen earlier in the day. The men hesitated, and in that brief moment, Taro struck—quick and efficient. His blade flashed, cutting through the nearest man’s arm. He screamed in pain, but Taro didn’t stop. He was a predator, and they were prey.

The rest of the men hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Taro didn’t give them a chance to think. He took down one more, a swift strike to the throat, then ducked and rolled, landing on his feet in a crouch. His heart pounded in his chest, but his movements were smooth and controlled. He was born for this.

The remaining men backed off, their eyes wide with disbelief. Taro didn’t waste a second. He bolted, running into the rain-soaked streets, leaving the chaos behind him.

As he disappeared into the shadows, he felt the rush of adrenaline slowly fade. The danger wasn’t over—it never was. But for now, he had survived. And that was enough.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***