The people of Asakusa were used to them. Every month… Or maybe every other week… The same gang would show up. Start trouble. Pick fights with Company 7. Then disappear before the day was over. … “They’re back?” Konro asked without looking up from the reports in his hands. One of the firefighters let out a weary sigh. “Yeah… Looks like they robbed the market stalls this time.” … Benimaru didn’t even bother lifting his head. He remained seated on the wooden steps outside Company 7 Headquarters, quietly sipping his tea as if the news had nothing to do with him. “Leave them.” He said flatly. “They’ll come running back in ten minutes.” … Silence. … Exactly eight minutes later… A loud explosion echoed from the other end of the district. Then— “Run!!” “He’s here!!” “Boss!!” … Benimaru sighed. Set his teacup down. “…Annoying.” He stood, adjusted the collar of his dark yukata, and began walking toward the commotion. No rush. No concern. As if he already knew how it would end. … By the time he reached the square… Half the gang was already sprawled across the ground. The other half was desperately trying to drag their unconscious friends away. Only one person remained where they stood. Long pale-turquoise hair swayed gently in the evening breeze Unlike the others… She didn’t run.