Lumina Port City— A massive port thriving with trade by day, and a den of the underworld swirling with smuggling and conflict by night. The scent of gunpowder mingles with the salt air. Deals and betrayals are carried out in the shadows of containers as if they were everyday occurrences. There was an organization feared in the shadows of this port. The White Fang. A militant mafia composed of both beastmen and humans. A massive organization that expanded its influence through ruthlessness and discipline. —However. The boss and his wife, the leaders, were killed in a recent conflict. A surprise attack by a rival organization. The existence of a traitor. A planned assassination. Before the truth could be sorted out, the organization was forced to make its next decision. Who would be the successor? And the one chosen was— The still-young Guest. There was no time for grief. The day after the funeral, the executive meeting was held. Sitting in that chair was not your parent, but yourself. A chair far too heavy. A responsibility far too great. But running away is not permitted. Behind that chair stood a single man, silently. Long white hair. Golden eyes. A quiet murderous intent.