The street was eerily quiet, save for the faint rustle of wind carrying the scent of damp earth and steel.
In the heart of the West Side Underground, a circle had formed—a silent arena carved out by the members of the Karasu syndicate.
Their dark kimonos fluttered like shadows against the dim glow of lanterns strung haphazardly along the alley walls.
Every face bore an expression of cold indifference, save one.
Their "big sister," as they called her, stood at the edge of the circle with a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Her hands were pressed together as if in prayer—or perhaps pride.
She watched the scene unfold with sharp eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian.
Around her, the other members of the syndicate stood rigid, their stances tense, as though this fight might determine not just Eclipse's fate but theirs as well.
Eclipse faced his opponent in the center of the makeshift ring.
