A voice echoed behind them.
"Shinju… What a pleasant name."
Shinju froze.
The air thickened, pressing against his skin.
The forest went still.
Even the rain seemed to hesitate, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Five immense presences emerged from the darkness.
Wide straw hats concealed their faces, shadows swallowing every feature beneath the brim.
Steel glinted faintly as their blades slid free—already drawn, already waiting.
One stepped forward, movements slow and deliberate, each footfall heavy with intent.
"At last…" the figure said softly. "We've found you."
Shinju's instincts screamed.
He grabbed Rin and leapt aside—
A blade crashed into the ground where they had stood, splitting the earth with a violent crack. Mud and stone exploded outward as they landed hard a few steps away.
They were surrounded.
Five figures.
No wasted motion.
No sound.
They did not need to be seen to be understood.
They were death.
---
Meanwhile…
The surviving bandits fled through the forest, boots slipping on wet soil as panic drove them forward.
"Wait Bruchi—stop!"
The shout cut through the chaos.
They skidded to a halt. Rain poured down their faces as they turned.
Bruchi spun around, breath ragged. "What's wrong with you, Zinc?!" he shouted, fear sharp in his voice. "We need to move—before the Dark Samurai comes after us!"
Zinc stared at him.
For a heartbeat, he said nothing.
Then he rushed forward and drove his fist straight into Bruchi's face.
Bruchi crashed into the mud with a grunt. The others recoiled in shock, some stumbling back, others frozen in place.
Zinc stood over him, chest heaving, rain streaming down his clenched jaw.
"I can't believe you," he said, his voice shaking with fury. "I can't believe you ran."
He shoved Bruchi hard with his boot.
"I can't believe we left Big Brother behind."
The words hit harder than the punch.
Silence spread through the group. Some bandits turned away, unable to meet his eyes. Others lowered their heads. One man wiped at his face, rain mixing with tears.
Bruchi pushed himself up slowly, his hands trembling. Mud smeared his cheek, blood trickling from his lip. His eyes were wide—not with cowardice, but something worse.
Desperation.
"We didn't have a choice," he said hoarsely, spreading his hands as if begging them to understand. "You saw the Dark Samurai. He was too strong—even Big Brother couldn't handle that monster. He's probably de—"
"Shut up!" Zinc snapped.
Bruchi flinched.
Zinc's voice cracked as he shouted, "Big Brother isn't dead!"
The words echoed uselessly through the trees.
"I know it," Zinc continued, forcing the belief into his voice. "I know he's still alive."
He took a step forward, then stopped.
Zinc fists tightening at his sides, eyes burning as he looked at each of them.
"if we fight—together—we have a chance."
His voice cracked slightly, but he didn't stop.
"We outnumber him. That has to mean something… it has to."
He raised his head, desperation and determination clashing in his expression.
"So please… don't hesitate now. If we move as one—we can take him down."
He looked around.
Fear stared back at him from every face.
Wide eyes. Pale skin. Bodies angled away from the forest they had just escaped. Not one of them moved toward the darkness.
Zinc felt something sink in his chest.
None of them were going back.
His hands curled slowly into fists, nails biting into his palms.
"…If none of you are going," he said quietly, his voice heavy with resolve, "then I will."
No one answered.
Zinc turned away.
Without another word, he broke into a run—back toward the storm, back toward the place where their leader had fallen, and where something far worse still waited.
"Wait!"
The shout came from behind him.
One by one, the others moved—hesitant at first, then faster.
"We'll come with you!" someone yelled.
Fear still clung to their faces, but something else burned beneath it now—shame, loyalty, desperation. Boots splashed through mud as they chased after Zinc, vanishing into the rain-soaked forest.
Bruchi was left behind.
"Fools… you're all going to die!"
He stood alone in the clearing, rain washing blood from his lip as tears fell from his eyes, watching their figures disappear into the darkness. His shoulders sagged as the forest grew quiet once more.
Rain pounded the forest like a relentless drum, soaking Shinju through to the bone. Five of them. Five deadly warriors converging on him from all sides. He couldn't fight all five at once—not while Rin's life hung in the balance. Death had never scared him, but Rin… she couldn't die . Not on his watch. Not like this.
He hadn't expected to see the Five Shadows together. Each was usually stationed in a different district. Their convergence was unprecedented—an omen of pure chaos. Even within the Revolutionary, such a gathering had never been recorded.
Instinct screamed: survive, escape, protect. He scanned the battlefield through rain-streaked lashes, muscles coiled and aching from old wounds. Every heartbeat sent fire through his injuries, every nerve pulsed with the memory of past battles, past losses, past trauma. And now… this.
A calm, almost bored voice cut through the storm.
One of the Five Shadows stepped forward, straw hat concealing his eyes, blade glinting like a whisper of death. "You've caused a lot of trouble," he said, voice steady. "We sent assassins for you… they failed. And yet, here you are. Dark Samurai… or should I say, Shinju."
Shinju didn't answer. He raised his head slightly, eyes glowing beneath his blood-soaked bangs. He took one step forward, enough to place his body fully between Rin and them.
"I'm not interested in dying today," he said. "But if you so much as breathe in her direction... I'll make sure not a single one of you leaves this forest alive." The forest held its breath.
Another stepped forward, impatience sharp in his tone. "Let's get this over with. The master is waiting. We don't have time."
Shinju knew he couldn't beat them all—not now. His only choice was to move, to dodge, to find an opening to escape. Protect Rin. That was the mission. Nothing else mattered.
He shifted low, rolling through the mud, narrowly avoiding blades that cut the air like lightning. Trees splintered, the ground cracked beneath the force of the fight. The Five attacked as one, movements unnatural, almost imperceptible to the naked eye. Sparks flew with every clash, sound booming like thunder through the storm.
Pain lanced through his body, ribs screaming as blood mixed with rain—but his gaze never left Rin.
Then—
A laugh pierced the chaos—maniacal, pure chaos.
Shinju froze.
"Ah… so this is the Dark Samurai," the voice taoned. Killer—the psychopathic bandit leader he had defeated before—emerged, axe swinging with brutal precision.
Shinju moved, but he couldn't strike recklessly. Rin's safety came first.
Then, Killer's henchmen returned, shouting apologies for abandoning him.
Zinc tightened his grip on his sword as tears fell for his eyes.
"I knew you were alive, sorry big bro …for leaving you behind."
Killer ignored them; fighting was all he lived for.
And then—disaster and salvation collided.
One of the Five Shadows appeared like a phantom, moving faster than thought, piercing Killer with a single, fatal strike. His body crumpled like paper.
Killer henchmen screamed, "Brother! … Big bro!" they surged forward, swords raised, over a hundred ragged fighters charging.
The diversion was perfect. Shinju seized the moment. He grabbed Rin and leaped through the trees, rain, and mud, away from the massacre. They ran.
They reached the old couple's home.
Silence.
Shinju's chest tightened. He stepped inside. Blood everywhere. The old couple… massacred.
No sound escaped him. Pain consumed his body and soul.
The old woman lay still, a pool of her own blood surrounding her. Scrawled across the floor, a chilling message: "Take care of Rin."
Rin stumbled , as she lin on a wall to steady herself.
She tried to speak, but no words escape her mouth.
Shinju's hands shook. He had to protect her. Then he saw the old man, barely alive, gasping, struggling.
Shinju immediately rushed to the old man.
"Old man! Don't die on me! Don't die!" Shinju screamed, cradling him against his chest.
The old man clutched Shinju weakly and whispered something into his ear. Shinju's eyes widened.
Rin collapsed, frozen in trauma, unable to move.
A blade sliced through the air faster than thought, striking the old man's head. Blood spattered onto Shinju's face. He froze.
"Ah… he survived?" a voice said, calm and bored. "Well… he won't anymore."
Shinju's head tilted slowly, rage igniting in his eyes. His body ached for retribution, vengeance, justice.
He looked at the samurai (One of the Shadows), straw hat hiding his face, and felt the cold, sharp intent: kill.
The samurai walked slowly toward Shinju, pulling his sword out of the old man's skull. Instantly, Shinju swung his blade, but the samurai evaded it, leaping back three steps.
He avoided the slash, but it tore through the straw hat covering his face. The hat fell to the ground.
His red hair spilled out like blood. His eyes… bluish… piercing… like a tiger's. There was a strange intensity in his stare. A smirk twisted his lips — a face like a Cornish fox.
"Take it easy," he said.
Shinju stared at him with murderous intent. Anger — raw, burning — swelled in his chest.
The samurai continued, "I'm disappointed… After everything you said… about killing … about how You would kill us all… wiping out the Shadows… Then you ran like a coward. All bark and no bite. You call yourself a samurai?"
Shinju didn't care. He cut him off.
"Shut up! Your voice is a waste of breath. I'm going to kill you… all of you… You'll pay for your sins. The last thing you'll see is the edge of my blade."
"What do you know about being a samurai?"
"You think being a samurai is about swinging blades and wearing titles.
You see blood and call it honor.
You kill in the name of flags, causes, nations—
and you call it duty.
I call it cowardice.
A true samurai does not kill for power.
He does not draw his blade for pride.
He walks with the weight of every life he's taken
and prays he never has to take another.
We are not beasts in armor.
We are not reapers of the innocent."
Shinju tightened his grip on his sword.
"A sword is not made only to cut—
it is made to protect. And if I raise mine, it will not be for glory. It will be because someone must stand between the innocent and monsters who hide behind justice."
The samurai chuckled. "You're funny."
"Spare me the sermon, Dark Samurai. We stopped believing in honor the day we realized power decides justice. You talk like a saint, but your blade is stained too. You and I aren't that different."
He tilted his head slightly, the edge of his blade catching the moonlight.
Rin stood frozen — traumatized by what had just happened. The atmosphere around her grew heavier.
"What a pretty girl," the samurai said, turning to her.
Shinju snapped, "Don't you dare come near her!".
The samurai laughed cornishly and paused for a second, don't tell me what to do.. he said in a serious voice, glaring at shinju .
He moved closer to Rin . almost like he teleported.
Shinju dashed forward swinging his sword going for his head but The samurai ducked and stepped back instantly.
Shinju grabs Rin and immediately leaps through the roof. Tiles shattered as they disappeared into the forest. He set her down.
"Run!" he yelled. But she couldn't. She was frozen in fear, paralyzed. He shouted again, "Snap out of it!" He thought of the old man. "If you die now… I won't forgive myself." That broke her. Tears streaming, she ran.
Just as she did, the samurai leaped, sword raised, aiming for her. Shinju blocked it. The force threw him back.
"I'm sorry", she whispered.
"Go!" Shinju yelled.
The samurai tilted his head, surprised. "Still moving? With those wounds? You're a monster… Any normal human would be dead by now."
Shinju said nothing, just breathed heavily. The samurai smirked. "Name's Raizen Akagiri. It's in my nature to share names before a fight."
Shinju didn't care. He lunged before Akagiri could finish. Their blades clashed. Sparks flew. Trees shattered. The rain poured harder.
"I don't need to know your names," Shinju continued, voice low and steady. "What you've done echoes in the ruins of every empire you've crushed. That's enough."
His grip on the hilt tightened. His sword remained steady.
"Make your move," Shinju said, eyes glowing like embers.
Focused.
Rin didn't look back.
She ran as fast as she could—into the darkness.
_Chapter 3 – End._