The first bullet shattered the window.
Ryoji moved before the glass hit the floor. He grabbed Aiko and shoved her behind the overturned metal table, shielding her from the incoming fire.
"Stay down!"
Miura and Kaito were already in motion. Miura grabbed an assault rifle from the wall, sliding into cover behind a steel cabinet. Kaito cocked his shotgun, his scarred face unreadable.
Then—another explosion.
The front door was obliterated in a fireball, sending debris flying across the room. Black-clad operatives flooded in—Agency strike teams.
Silent. Efficient. Killers.
Miura fired first, cutting two of them down before they could react. The others split into formation, returning fire with cold precision. No wasted bullets. No hesitation.
Kaito roared as he fired a blast point-blank into an operative's chest, sending him crashing into the wall. "We have to move!"
Ryoji didn't answer—he was already moving.
He launched forward, grabbing a fallen operative's submachine gun and twisting mid-air, unloading a burst into the next attacker. A perfect headshot.
The Agency didn't stop. More were coming.
Aiko's ears rang. The world blurred.
She could barely process what was happening—one moment she was watching the truth of her past on a screen, the next she was in the middle of a war zone.
Then—a figure stepped through the ruined doorway.
A man in a black trench coat, wearing tactical gloves.
Unlike the others, he didn't carry a gun.
Ryoji's grip tightened. "Shirow."
The man smiled slightly. "Been a while, Ryoji."
A moment of stillness.
Then Shirow attacked.
He moved like a shadow, faster than the others, closing the gap in an instant. No wasted motion. No fear. His fist snapped forward—Ryoji barely dodged, feeling the wind of the strike graze his cheek. Too fast. Too strong.
Shirow was a Division Zero assassin.
A true killer.
Ryoji countered, twisting into a brutal elbow strike aimed at Shirow's throat—but Shirow caught it mid-air.
Aiko's breath hitched. Impossible.
Then—Shirow drove a knee into Ryoji's ribs.
A sickening crack.
Ryoji staggered, barely keeping his balance. Shirow was faster. Stronger. He had the advantage.
Miura cursed and aimed her rifle—but Shirow moved before she could pull the trigger.
He grabbed Ryoji and used him as a human shield.
Miura hesitated.
Shirow smirked. "That's your mistake."
Then—he threw Ryoji.
Like a ragdoll.
Ryoji slammed into the steel wall, hard.
Aiko screamed.
Shirow turned toward her. "You're coming with me."
Aiko's hands trembled.
She looked at Ryoji—struggling to get up. Miura—trying to reload. Kaito—bleeding out.
No one could stop him.
Shirow reached for her—
And then Aiko grabbed a gun.
A single shot rang out.
Shirow's eyes widened.
Blood trickled down his shoulder.
Aiko was shaking. She had never fired a gun before.
But it stopped him.
For just a second.
Ryoji took that second.
He lunged, grabbing a discarded knife—and drove it deep into Shirow's side.
Shirow grunted, twisting away. Not dead. But wounded.
Enough for them to escape.
Miura tossed a smoke grenade.
The room filled with thick, choking fog.
Ryoji grabbed Aiko's wrist. "Run."
They ran.
Through the back exit. Into the alley. Into the city.
Aiko's heart pounded.
Everything was falling apart.
The Agency wouldn't stop.
Division Zero was back.
And Shirow was still alive.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
To be continued… Chapter 20...