Long ago, in ancient Japan, a secret clan of independent ninjas lurked in the shadows. Unlike the other two clans, Iga and Koga, this clan refused to mingle with the shogun and his empire. It was a clan existing purely for slaughter and killing. The kind of creed its members followed was: "Kill, kill, kill, slaughter! Create bloodshed! Killing is our art, blood our paint, our way of life!"

People had only heard rumors about them and, little by little, they had become a legend. Only the shogun had known of their existence.

There was a time when he had made an attempt to exterminate the ruthless clan. He had feared that they had become too ambitious and that they would attempt to take his throne, but the result was a pure and frightening massacre. In a single day, this one clan alone had annihilated an army of 5000 mighty warriors of the shogunate, thus intense fear had been born within the shogun's mind and he decided never to provoke them again.

The sole mention of their name was taboo in his castle. Even the famous daimyo (Oda Nobunaga) didn't have any knowledge of their existence until he tried to invade the Iga.

For them, fame, women, and money didn't have any meaning, only killing satisfied their desires and an era of strife and warfare was ideal to them.

Their name was "Ryuketsu" and these events happened in the year 1586.

450 years later, in modern day Japan, inside an abandoned warehouse in Tokyo, there was a deal between a large yakuza organization and a big shot drug dealer.

One man passed the others as he stopped in front of a large wooden table. On the table was a big suitcase filled with plastic sacks containing white powder, you had probably guessed it, it was cocaine.

He was a middle-aged man wearing a suit and a red necktie. He had a bald head and a scar that extended from his eye to his chin in the form of a straight line. The bald man began to talk with the other side, which consisted of several other men who stood on the opposite side of the table. More specifically, he spoke to the young man standing in front of the others. It was easy to differentiate between the yakuza and the dealers.

"Haha, young master, it's always a pleasure to do business with you." said the middle-aged man while smiling, but when looking at him more closely, one could discern that he was a twisted man.

"Oh, uncle, don't say that. I make plenty of money because of you. It is my pleasure" replied the young man.

The young man was wearing a white shirt and black pants. He had glasses and short, black hair. He was handsome, but looking into his eyes made people uncomfortable for some reason.

"Okay then, young master, may I verify the goods before taking the money out of my bag?"

"There is no problem with that." said the young man as his mouth twitched.

A few minutes later, the bald man had verified the goods like he said he would. Then he took out another suitcase but, this time, it was filled with bundles of money.

"Then we should proceed, gentlemen."

The deal was nearing its end and the two parties were preparing to leave.

"Why do I feel like I want to kill that fucking old man every time I see him..." said the young man while wearing a disgusted expression.

Another young man wearing a black suit approached him from behind, it was clearly his henchman.

"Young master, you can't, he is the boss of the largest yakuza organization in this prefecture."

"Ahh, I know, I know. Stop pestering me. Ah, I want to slice him to pieces but can't... what a shitty feeling."

Suddenly, the lights of the warehouse were shut off and the only remaining source of light was the moonlight.

"What's happening? What is this suddenly!?" exclaimed the bald man while glaring at the young man suspiciously.

"Hey, hey calm yourself, uncle, it's not me who did this, I assure you. All of you look around!" retorted the young man while ordering his henchmen.

"Yes!" all of them responded in agreement and begun their search.

One of the yakuza who was standing behind the men searching around in suspicion felt a slight cold, but smooth feeling around his neck. Trying to discern what was in the dark, a peculiar sound like the cutting of grass was heard.

SFX: Kasha!

The head of the man was separated from his body and fell soundlessly on the floor while blood gushed out.

"Wha!!!!!?" the men around him, noticing what had happened, exclaimed in panic.

"Calm down and regroup, don't let him get away!" with a frown, the bald man ordered his men.

Being a yakuza for so many years and killing so many people, he had plenty of experience. His instincts were screaming that danger was approaching.

Suddenly, another head fell on the ground, but this time, it was one of the henchmen of the young dealer.

"Huh!?" the young dealer was frozen because, in that fraction of a moment, he had seen a black shadow flash behind the man before he was beheaded.

"Ah!" in a panicked state, he fell on his ass.

"Fuckkk! This won't do! Bring out the weapons and shoot that bastard!!" roared the bald man.

"Yes!"

In an instant, several weapons appeared and the loud sound of bullets resonated in every corner of the large warehouse. After several minutes, the sound ceased.

Approximately thousands of bullets were shot repeatedly. It was a mp5 9-millimeter German model weapon. As to why some of the yakuza were in possession of this weapon was a mystery.

After the bullets stopped firing, one of the yakuza walked over to the bald man, "Boss, I highly doubt he survived."

"Shut up!!" the bald man glared at him.

"But..." when he tried to say something, a little, almost inaudible sound was heard, and he stopped his words halfway.

As he turned around to look, the bald man was stunned, half of the head from the yakuza had disappeared and brain matter could be seen. After that, slight metallic sounds reverberated and the remaining four of the six yakuza had their forehead pierced by a weapon that could be said to be an antique to this era as their bodies instantly collapsed.

"Ni-nin...ja..." the bald man was so shocked that he was stuttering with sweat dripping from his face.

And then the shadow appeared. Illuminated by the moonlight, it was the figure of a man wearing a full black outfit. Even his face was covered and only his cold eyes were seen reflecting the light.

On his back, two blades were sheathed as he coldly looked at the bald man and muttered a word.

"Boring."

The word was not heard by the bald man, but looking into the man's indifferent eyes, he shuddered. He has never seen this sort of frightening, piercing gaze that almost made him faint from fear. According to him, a human can't have this sort of cold aura.

"What's wrong? No words? No begging? Haha, then die." when the cold voice stopped, the shadow disappeared. Not having time to even see what was happening or uttering a sound, half of the bald man's body was separated and then his head fell. It was cut so neatly, that no sound was heard.

After that, complete and utter silence, along with the bloodied floor of the warehouse was all that was left. Few minutes passed and the young dealer could be seen urinating his pants as he fainted.

"Yo- young master!!!" the few bodyguards shouted and rushed to their employer in panic.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Within a large temple in Tokyo, inside a certain room, an old man was sitting in front a small table, seemingly writing but it was, in fact, calligraphy.

His face could not be seen as a shade was being cast from the window beside him. From his white beard, anyone could tell he was quite old.

A gust of wind was felt by the old man and right after, his hoarse voice sounded in the room.

"Ichi, did you eliminate the target?" he asked.

From the shadow in the corner of the room, a silhouette appeared. It was obviously a man. Only his neck could be seen and a tattoo of the number '01'

"Master, the target was eliminated properly." replied the man.

This man was none other than the black clothed one who had killed the yakuza in the warehouse.

"Mmh, excellent, you can go now."

"Yes, master."

After the black-clothed man left the room, a cold smile could be seen on the old man's face. Behind him, on the piece of paper, the word "Ryuketsu" could be read.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seeing people walking on the street, there were many teenagers wearing uniforms. These teenagers were, of course, fully fledged high schoolers.

"Hey, hey! Did you see that creep? Haha, that one with the glasses and long hair."

"Ehh!? Disgusting! I bet he is an otaku, his face can't even be seen behind that ugly hairdo." two girls were pointing at a teenager.

His appearance was slightly strange. He had long hair that covered his face, extending to his shoulders, and wore glasses. He was wearing a school uniform and tightly clutching a book in his hands.

Two high schoolers passed by him and one of them bumped into him, making his book fall on the ground. In a normal situation, an apology would be heard but...

"Hey creep, don't walk in front of me." said the one who had bumped into him and resumed walking while he laughed.

The young man then bent down to grab his book, but a person was faster than him. Judging from the delicate-looking hands, it was a girl.

"Ichiro-kun let me help you." a cheerful and sweet voice was heard by the young man.

"Ah, thank you." he said calmly.

When he looked up, he saw the girl's face and remembered that she was his classmate. The girl was pretty with refined features, long silky black hair, smooth skin and sky-blue eyes, a rare color for a Japanese girl. She was wearing a uniform, but anyone could see that she had a beautiful body where every part was almost perfect.

"Well then Ichiro-kun, don't be late to class." she said while smiling.

Every male in school was entranced by her. She was called princess by some of them due to her unique charm and demeanor. But strangely, the young man named Ichiro was completely unfazed by her beauty which was further interpreted as him being an otaku.

The wind ruffled his hair when he tried to stand, and on his neck was a tattoo.

It was familiar...

It was a number...

End.

Note: this is the prologue. I hope it was good to read and don't hesitate to share your opinions!

----------------->(Proofread by Simly)