*The midday sun hung high overhead, washing the quiet street in pale gold. Heat shimmered above the cracked asphalt, and the occasional breeze stirred scraps of paper that had settled along the curb. It was the kind of road most people overlooked—a forgotten stretch used only by the few who had business there. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of traffic from busier streets and the rhythmic buzz of cicadas hidden somewhere beyond the surrounding buildings.

An alley split off from the roadside, narrow enough that sunlight barely reached its depths. Rusted fire escapes zigzagged overhead, casting broken shadows across stained brick walls. Overflowing dumpsters, weathered crates, and a scattering of discarded pallets provided more than enough cover for someone who knew how to disappear.

Near the mouth of the alley, concealed just beyond the corner where the road met the brick wall, Chuuya Nakahara waited. His hat sat low enough to shade his eyes as he leaned casually against the wall, though there was nothing relaxed about him. Every passing second sharpened his focus. The Port Mafia's orders had been simple: intercept the target alive. Rumors of the stranger's extraordinary ability had spread quickly enough to earn the organization's attention, and Chuuya had little intention of returning empty-handed. From his position, he could watch the road without exposing himself, ready to step out the instant his quarry wandered within reach.

What Chuuya didn't realize was that he wasn't the only hunter lying in wait.

Further down the alley, hidden behind a stack of battered shipping pallets where the shadows were deepest, Osamu Dazai watched in silence. Earlier, he'd caught sight of Chuuya slipping away with far too much purpose to ignore. Curiosity—and a healthy suspicion of whatever the Port Mafia was planning—had led him to trail his former partner from a comfortable distance.

Now, Dazai observed the setup with quiet amusement. He'd pieced together enough to understand that Chuuya was expecting someone, though exactly who remained a mystery. Rather than reveal himself, Dazai settled in to watch events unfold. If Chuuya's plan succeeded, Dazai could intervene at the perfect moment. If it failed... well, that would probably be entertaining too.*

For now, the alley remained still, suspended in tense anticipation as both men waited for the same unsuspecting passerby to arrive—each with very different intentions.