That night, as Kayo systematically worked to strengthen his control over The Smiler's power, he reflected on the day's events. School had proven valuable not just for maintaining his cover of normalcy, but as a training ground for his developing abilities. His bedroom was dimly lit by a single desk lamp, casting long shadows across the walls as he practiced.
"I'll get stronger," he promised himself, watching as his shadow hand lifted a heavy textbook completely off his desk for the first time. The spectral limb trembled slightly with the effort, but held firm. "Strong enough to face whatever comes next."
A wave of exhaustion washed over him as he maintained the manifestation for nearly two minutes—a personal record. When he finally released his concentration, the shadow hand dissolved into wisps of darkness before reforming at his wrist.
"Progress," The Smiler acknowledged reluctantly. "Though painfully slow by my standards."
"Not all of us have existed for centuries," Kayo muttered, massaging his temples against the dull headache that always followed extended practice.
Three days later, a package arrived from the hospital—his prosthetic hand. Kayo examined it critically in the privacy of his room, turning the mechanical appendage over in his remaining hand. It was nothing special, just a wooden hand with a basic gripping mechanism that could hold objects but offered little dexterity. The fingers remained fixed in position, unable to move independently.
"Primitive," The Smiler scoffed. "Like something from the last century."
"It's functional," Kayo replied, already formulating a plan. He carefully wrapped the prosthetic with clean bandages, layer upon layer until the mechanical nature of the hand was completely obscured. When finished, it resembled a heavily bandaged limb rather than an artificial one.
He slipped it on, adjusting the straps that secured it to his stump. Looking in the mirror, he nodded with satisfaction—to casual observers, it would appear he still had his arm, just injured.
"Perfect," he murmured. "Now I can begin the real work."
For the first time in his average life of being a nobody with no real friends, Kayo developed a purpose that drove him with single-minded determination. He established a rigorous training regimen—pushups, squats, and crunches in the morning before school, weights and calisthenics during gym class. His parents noticed the change in his behavior but attributed it to positive coping mechanisms, relieved that he seemed to be adjusting to his new reality.
"What's with the sudden interest in fitness?" his mother asked one morning, watching him complete a set of one-armed pushups in the living room, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Physical therapy," Kayo lied smoothly. "Doctor's recommendation for balance and coordination." The excuse was plausible enough that she accepted it without question, even seeming pleased by his dedication.
Meanwhile, he dedicated his evenings to mastering The Smiler's abilities. He practiced for hours, focusing on manifesting the shadow hand into the shape of a normal human hand rather than the elongated, clawed appendage of The Smiler. It took nearly a week of concentrated effort before he succeeded in maintaining the human-like appearance for more than a few minutes.
"Why bother with this charade?" The Smiler asked as Kayo admired his work—a perfectly normal-looking hand made of shadow, indistinguishable from his original except for its slightly darker tone. "My form is far more effective for combat."
"Blend in to survive," Kayo replied, flexing the shadow fingers experimentally. "Besides, I need to be able to switch between forms instantly if I'm going to hunt."
The mention of hunting silenced The Smiler temporarily. Kayo had been spending his free periods at school in the library, researching supernatural phenomena, folklore, and occult practices. He'd created a detailed notebook filled with information on various supernatural entities, their weaknesses, habitats, and methods of elimination.
Ishida had noticed his newfound interest, of course. "Folklore?" he'd asked one afternoon, glancing over Kayo's shoulder at a tome of Japanese ghost stories. "I wouldn't have pegged you for the superstitious type."
"Just exploring new interests," Kayo had replied noncommittally. "Near-death experiences make you curious about the beyond."
Ishida had studied him silently for a moment, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. "If you're interested in that sort of thing, there's an old folklore club room on the third floor. Nobody uses it anymore, but I hear the previous members left quite a collection."
The information had proven valuable—the abandoned club room contained dusty volumes of local legends and unexplained phenomena, including several detailed accounts of supernatural sightings in the area.
After two weeks of training and research, Kayo felt reasonably prepared for his first deliberate encounter with a supernatural entity. He sat cross-legged on his bed late one night, laptop balanced on his knees as he scrolled through obscure forums and websites dedicated to paranormal sightings.
"I'm hoping to god I don't have another Smiler scenario where he stalks me through the screen," he muttered, glancing nervously at his monitor.
"Unlikely," The Smiler replied dryly. "Most of my kind lack the sophistication for such methods."
Kayo continued scrolling, using his spiritual sight periodically to scan for any signs of supernatural presence in the digital realm. Hours passed fruitlessly until, near midnight, he stumbled upon a recently uploaded video titled "Strange man with top hat standing in old warehouse."
The thumbnail showed a blurry figure in what appeared to be an abandoned industrial space. Most commenters dismissed it as a hoax or shadow play, but as Kayo watched the video second by second, his enhanced perception revealed what ordinary viewers couldn't see—a bio-engineered supernatural, partially visible to the human eye only because it had manifested in physical form.
"Interesting," he murmured, leaning closer to the screen. "A half-ghost."
"A what?" The Smiler asked, its curiosity evident.
"Half-ghost, half-human hybrid," Kayo explained, recalling his research. "They started appearing in the late 1940s according to these forums. Aggressive but relatively weak compared to pure supernaturals."
He checked the video's metadata and confirmed it was filmed approximately 20 miles from his house, in an abandoned industrial district. The timestamp showed it had been recorded just two days ago.
"This is my chance," Kayo realized aloud. "My chance to get back the first piece of my soul from The Seller."
"You're actually going to hunt this creature?" The Smiler sounded almost impressed. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet."
Kayo spent the next hour meticulously planning his approach. He studied the warehouse layout visible in the video, identifying potential entrances and exits. He researched the specific type of supernatural—a category known as "The Gambler" based on its 1940s attire and reported affinity for games of chance. According to the lore, such entities could be injured by cold iron and would dissolve if their heart was destroyed.
The next day at school was an eternity of feigned normalcy. Kayo went through the motions—answering questions in class, eating lunch with Ishida, avoiding Moriyama's lingering glares—all while his mind rehearsed the night ahead. When the final bell rang, he rushed home, made a show of completing homework at the dining table where his mother could see, then excused himself to "rest" early.
In his room, Kayo prepared his equipment: a small iron knife he'd purchased from an antique shop, a flashlight, dark clothing, and a small backpack. He set his alarm for 1:00 AM, when his parents would be deeply asleep, and tried to get some rest himself.
The alarm's vibration woke him instantly. Moving with practiced silence, Kayo dressed in black jeans and a dark hoodie. He carefully folded a pillowcase to resemble a sleeping form under his blankets—a classic trick, but effective for casual inspection. Sliding open his window, he climbed out onto the narrow ledge, then dropped softly to the ground below.
His bike waited where he'd hidden it earlier behind the garden shed. The night air was cool against his face as he pedaled through empty streets, the route to the warehouse district memorized. His heart beat steadily in his chest—not the panicked flutter of fear, but the measured rhythm of focused determination.
After nearly an hour of cycling through progressively more dilapidated neighborhoods, Kayo arrived at his destination. The warehouse loomed against the night sky, its broken windows like dark, empty eyes. He chained his bike to a rusted fence and approached cautiously, testing his spiritual sight to scan for any presence.
"It's here," he whispered, sensing a faint supernatural signature from within. "And alone, as far as I can tell."
"Be careful," The Smiler warned, uncharacteristically serious. "Even lesser entities can be dangerous when cornered."
Kayo approached the main entrance—a set of massive sliding doors, one partially ajar. He gripped the edge with his shadow hand, now fully materialized, and pulled it open with a loud, reverberating creak. The sound echoed through the cavernous space within, announcing his arrival.
Moonlight filtered through broken skylights, illuminating dust particles dancing in the air. The warehouse was mostly empty, save for scattered debris and abandoned equipment. Kayo blinked three times, activating his enhanced vision, and immediately spotted his target.
In the center of the warehouse stood "The Gambler"—a tall, spectral figure dressed in an immaculate 1940s suit, complete with waistcoat, pocket watch, and an elegant top hat. Its features were aristocratic but slightly blurred, as if viewed through frosted glass. It shuffled a deck of cards with impossible dexterity, the cards flowing between its fingers like liquid.
"And who has come to see me at this time and hour?" The Gambler's voice echoed with an otherworldly resonance, cultured yet hollow.
Kayo stepped forward into a shaft of moonlight, allowing the entity to see him clearly. "I've come to kill you," he stated calmly, his shadow hand hidden behind his back, the iron knife concealed in his pocket.
The Gambler's laughter was like crystal breaking. "Didn't know a human could see me. How ironic." It stopped shuffling its cards, tucking them into an inside pocket of its jacket. "Perhaps we should play a game first? I always offer a sporting chance."
Without warning, The Gambler vanished in a blur of motion, reappearing behind Kayo with one leg raised for a devastating kick. But Kayo had anticipated this—his research indicated these entities often teleported to gain advantage in combat. His reflexes, honed by weeks of training, allowed him to pivot and dodge the attack with inches to spare.
The Gambler's foot crashed into the concrete floor, cracking it. "Fast for a mortal," it hissed, genuine surprise in its voice.
"Who said I was human?" Kayo countered, drawing the iron knife from his pocket in one fluid motion.
The Gambler's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. It teleported again, this time reappearing ten feet away. "What are you then, boy? You smell of human flesh but reek of something... older."
Instead of answering, Kayo charged forward, feinting to the left before cutting sharply right as The Gambler teleported to intercept his initial trajectory. The maneuver worked—Kayo found himself behind the supernatural, knife already plunging toward its back.
The blade sank deep into The Gambler's shoulder rather than its heart as it twisted at the last second, but the effect was immediate. The entity screamed in agony, its voice distorting into something inhuman—a high-pitched wail that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Black ichor, not blood, flowed from the wound as The Gambler teleported away, now moving erratically around the warehouse.
"YOU DARE!" it shrieked, its cultured fa?ade crumbling as cards began to materialize around it, spinning like razor-edged projectiles. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT I AM?"
"I know exactly what you are," Kayo replied, dodging as the cards shot toward him with lethal speed. One sliced across his cheek, drawing blood, but he maintained his focus. "A failed experiment. A shadow of true power."
The taunt worked—The Gambler teleported directly in front of Kayo, hands outstretched to seize him by the throat. This time, Kayo was ready. He dropped to the ground, sweeping his leg to knock The Gambler off-balance. As the entity stumbled, Kayo drove his knife deep into its leg, twisting the iron blade with vicious precision.
The Gambler collapsed to one knee, black ichor pooling beneath it. Its form flickered like a faulty television signal, coherence failing as the iron disrupted its supernatural energy.
"Who—what are you?" it gasped, clawing at the knife embedded in its leg.
Kayo stood over the fallen entity, his shadow hand now revealed, glowing with a faint crimson light. "I'm the one who's going to send you back to wherever you came from."
Before The Gambler could teleport again, Kayo's shadow hand phased through its chest, becoming incorporeal. The Gambler froze, eyes widening in shock as the spectral limb passed through its physical form. Then, with a surge of concentration, Kayo solidified his shadow hand directly around The Gambler's heart.
"This is going to hurt," Kayo warned, before clenching his fist.
The Gambler's scream distorted into something beyond sound as Kayo crushed its heart, the vital organ disintegrating within his grasp. The entity's form began to disintegrate, collapsing into ash that blew away in a sudden, inexplicable gust of wind that swept through the warehouse.
As the last particles scattered, Kayo felt a rush of energy surge through him—warm and familiar. A piece of his soul, returning to its rightful place. The sensation was indescribable—like a wound he hadn't realized was still bleeding had suddenly healed.
"That was... easier than expected," Kayo thought to himself, examining his shadow hand, which now seemed more solid, more defined than before. He could feel the power from the recently absorbed spirit flowing through him, enhancing his abilities. His vision sharpened further, allowing him to perceive spiritual energies with greater clarity. His shadow hand could now materialize longer, with less mental strain.
CLASSIFIED FILE: LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE REQUIRED
"The Gambler" was a non-corporeal entity first documented in [REDACTED], 1943, during Operation [REDACTED]. Initial manifestation occurred following experimental [REDACTED] conducted by Division [REDACTED] of the Allied paranormal research initiative.
Entity presented as a humanoid male figure in period-appropriate formal attire (1940s suit, top hat) with aristocratic features described as "slightly blurred" or "viewed through frosted glass." Subject maintained this appearance consistently across all documented manifestations.
Appearance: Tall humanoid figure in immaculate 1940s formal attire including waistcoat, pocket watch, and top hat. Facial features remained deliberately obscured, potentially [REDACTED] perception defense mechanism.
Physical Properties: Entity existed in a semi-corporeal state, capable of [REDACTED] at will. Analysis of residual energy patterns suggests composition of [REDACTED] rather than conventional matter.
Distinguishing Features: Always manifested with a deck of playing cards that appeared to function as both [REDACTED] and offensive weaponry. Cards exhibited [REDACTED] properties when manipulated by the entity.
Biological Material: Entity produced black ichor when injured by [REDACTED] materials. Substance analysis revealed [REDACTED] molecular structure with properties similar to [REDACTED]. All samples degraded rapidly (half-life of approximately 4.3 minutes) upon entity termination.
-
Short-Range Teleportation: Entity could instantly relocate within visual range (estimated maximum distance: 30 meters). No discernible [REDACTED] energy signature detected during transitions, suggesting [REDACTED] rather than conventional spatial displacement.
-
Enhanced Physical Capabilities: Despite anthropomorphic appearance, entity demonstrated strength sufficient to crack reinforced concrete and reflexes exceeding human limitations by factor of [REDACTED].
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Card Manipulation: Entity could materialize and control playing cards that exhibited impossible physical properties, including razor-sharp edges capable of [REDACTED]. Cards appeared to function as conduits for [REDACTED] energy.
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Vocal Influence: Voice contained subtle [REDACTED] properties that induced [REDACTED] in 87% of test subjects exposed to recordings. Effect amplified when subject made direct [REDACTED] with the entity.
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[REDACTED] - File access denied. Temporal manipulation capabilities included [DATA EXPUNGED]. Test subjects experienced [REDACTED] up to 3 hours after exposure.
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[REDACTED] - File access denied. Entity demonstrated ability to [DATA EXPUNGED] without physical contact. Effects included [REDACTED] and severe [REDACTED] in 100% of victims.
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[REDACTED] - File access denied. "Game" scenarios orchestrated by entity resulted in [DATA EXPUNGED]. Survivors exhibited [REDACTED] consistent with protocol [REDACTED].
-
[REDACTED] - File access denied. Connection to [REDACTED] dimension confirmed through [REDACTED] residue analysis. Gateway properties suspected but unconfirmed.
Entity was linked to 23 confirmed incidents between 1943 and [REDACTED]:
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1943-1947: Seven documented appearances in [REDACTED], London. All incidents occurred in gambling establishments. Casualties: 13 confirmed.
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1952-1958: Operation [REDACTED] attempted containment in [REDACTED]. Facility breach resulted in 17 casualties and loss of [REDACTED] artifact.
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1968: Entity sighted in [REDACTED], Nevada. Connected to disappearance of [REDACTED] and subsequent [REDACTED] incident.
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1976-1985: [ENTIRE SECTION REDACTED]
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1992: Failed termination attempt by Agent [REDACTED] in [REDACTED]. Agent subjected to [REDACTED] resulting in psychological [REDACTED].
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2007-2019: Sporadic manifestations with increasing frequency, suggesting [REDACTED] cycle approaching [REDACTED] phase.
Primary Vulnerability: Entity demonstrated severe reaction to cold iron, consistent with Type III spectral entities. Contact with iron disrupted energy cohesion and prevented [REDACTED].
Secondary Vulnerability: [REDACTED] - Level 7 clearance required.
Tertiary Vulnerability: Subject could be [REDACTED] if [DATA EXPUNGED] was severed before [REDACTED] could initiate.
Subject was terminated on [REDACTED] by asset "Kayo" during unsanctioned engagement. Termination method involved:
- Offensive deployment of cold iron blade to disrupt entity's [REDACTED] abilities
- Physical engagement using conventional combat techniques
- Utilization of asset "Kayo's" [REDACTED] abilities to extract and destroy entity's core
Critical Note: Asset "Kayo" demonstrated previously undocumented [REDACTED] capability during engagement, absorbing portions of entity's [REDACTED] into his own [REDACTED] structure. This represents significant evolution of asset capabilities and warrants immediate [REDACTED] assessment.
Remote sensors detected unusual energy signature during entity dissolution. Pattern indicates potential [REDACTED] observation from [REDACTED] source. Investigation ongoing.
Complete decoherence of entity structure confirmed through residual energy analysis. Recovery team collected 0.3 grams of [REDACTED] material from termination site for further study.
[ENTIRE SECTION REDACTED]
Evidence suggests entity originated during [REDACTED] experiment conducted by [REDACTED] using [REDACTED] artifact recovered from [REDACTED] archaeological site. Connection to parallel [REDACTED] confirmed by [REDACTED] signature analysis.
Entity may have been [REDACTED] rather than [REDACTED] as previously classified, indicating potential [REDACTED] with other entities in classification group [REDACTED].
WARNING: This file contains information on extradimensional entities. Extended reading may cause [REDACTED] syndrome in sensitive individuals.
Document updated: [REDACTED]
Authorization: Director [REDACTED], Department [REDACTED]
Classification review scheduled: [REDACTED]
As Kayo turned to leave, confident in his victory, he failed to notice a pair of glowing orb-like eyes watching from the darkest corner of the warehouse. Something was observing him—something that made even The Smiler's presence recoil within him.
The bike ride home felt triumphant, exhilarating. Kayo had faced his first supernatural enemy and emerged victorious. The piece of his soul he'd reclaimed burned bright within him, filling a void he'd become accustomed to. By the time he climbed back through his bedroom window, exhaustion was setting in, but it was the satisfying fatigue of accomplishment rather than defeat.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
He collapsed into bed without bothering to undress, the events of the night replaying in his mind as consciousness faded. In his dreams, The Smiler appeared—not as the terrifying entity it had once been, but as a shadowy figure standing at the edge of a vast darkness.
"Did you feel that presence watching us in the warehouse?" The Smiler asked, its voice uncharacteristically subdued, almost... fearful?
"No. Why?" Kayo replied, curious about this unusual behavior.
The Smiler's eternal grin seemed to falter for the first time. "...We're being stalked by something worse than me." Its voice held a note of panic Kayo had never heard before. "Something ancient. Something hungry."
"What do you mean? What could be worse than you?" Kayo demanded, but the dreamscape was already beginning to dissolve around them.
"YOU HAVE TO GET STRONGER OR WE'RE BOTH GONNA DIE," The Smiler's voice echoed as the dream collapsed into fragments, consumed by encroaching darkness.
Kayo woke with a start, cold sweat clinging to his skin despite the warm sunlight streaming through his window. The memory of The Smiler's fear lingered, unsettling him more than any threat or taunt ever had. If something could frighten an entity like The Smiler...
He shook off the thought, focusing instead on his immediate routine. After a quick shower to wash away the previous night's grime, he joined his parents for breakfast, responding to their cheerful morning conversation with practiced normalcy.
"You're looking better," his father commented, studying Kayo's face over the rim of his coffee cup. "More... focused."
"Physical therapy is helping," Kayo replied, using his standard excuse. "And getting back into school routine."
His mother beamed, clearly relieved by his apparent adjustment. "We're so proud of how you're handling everything, sweetheart."
Guilt twisted in Kayo's stomach at their genuine concern, but he pushed it aside. They couldn't know the truth—couldn't comprehend the world he now inhabited. Their ignorance was their protection.
The walk to school was uneventful, though Kayo found himself unusually attuned to his surroundings, scanning for any sign of supernatural presence. The previous night's victory had heightened his senses, making him more aware of the thin veil between the ordinary world and what lay beyond.
When he arrived at homeroom and took his seat, there was a peculiar tension in the air. Students whispered excitedly among themselves, glancing repeatedly toward the door. Before Kayo could ask what was happening, the teacher entered, clapping her hands for attention.
"Settle down, everyone," she called out, her voice carrying an unusual note of excitement. "Today we have some unexpected news. Our class will be welcoming five new transfer students!"
The announcement sent a ripple of surprise through the room. Transfer students were uncommon at any time, but five at once was unprecedented. The classroom erupted in whispers and speculation.
"Five? In the middle of the term?" "I heard they're all foreigners!" "Maybe they're part of an exchange program?"
Kayo felt a strange unease settle over him. Something about this sudden influx of new students struck him as more than coincidental, especially after his encounter with The Gambler. He glanced around, wondering if anyone else sensed the oddity of the situation, but his classmates seemed merely curious or excited.
"Please welcome them warmly," the teacher continued, gesturing toward the door. "You may come in now."
The classroom door slid open, and five students entered—one female and four males. Immediately, Kayo sensed something was off. The newcomers surveyed the room with unusual intensity, but more disturbing was the way they looked at each other—with barely concealed hostility, even murderous intent.
The first student stepped forward, a tall young man with sharp features and pale blond hair. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said in a heavy Russian accent. "I am a foreign exchange student by the name of Illiray Makarov, but you may call me Makarov." His smile didn't reach his cold blue eyes, which continued to assess the other transfer students with calculated wariness.
The second student stepped forward—the only female in the group. She had fiery red hair cut in a sharp bob and moved with predatory grace. "Ello," she said, her British accent thick and aristocratic. "I'm a foreign exchange student. My name's Ash Misty." Her gaze swept over the classroom before settling on Kayo for a fraction longer than comfortable, her green eyes narrowing slightly.
The third student moved with formal precision, his posture rigid and disciplined. "Hello," he said with a slight bow. "My name is Xin Shao. I am a foreign exchange student." His Chinese accent was pronounced but clear, his expression carefully neutral as he surveyed his fellow transfers.
The fourth student stepped forward with casual confidence, hands tucked into his pockets. "Yo, my name's Jack, Jack Smith, but just call me Jack," he drawled in an unmistakable American accent. His relaxed demeanor contrasted sharply with the tension radiating from the group.
The final student moved with quiet assurance, his Japanese features making him appear less out of place than the others. "My name is Goto, Goto Kinosaki," he introduced himself in perfect, accented Japanese. "I am also an exchange student.".
As Kayo observed the five new students, a chill ran down his spine. Their presence in the classroom felt significant—deliberate—and somehow connected to his new reality. The Smiler's warning from his dream echoed in his mind, taking on new urgency as the transfer students were directed to empty seats around the classroom.
Ishida caught Kayo's eye from across the room, one eyebrow raised in silent question. He too had noticed something unusual about the newcomers. Kayo gave a minimal shrug in response, neither confirming nor denying his suspicions. As the lesson began, he couldn't shake the feeling that a new chapter was unfolding—one potentially more dangerous than anything he had faced thus far.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The foreign exchange students real identities
Nationality: Japanese
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 155 lbs
Physical Description: Black hair, brown eyes
Affiliation: Public Security Intelligence Agency (PSIA), Special Division 8 (Supernatural Affairs)
Role: Field operative specializing in containment and investigation of paranormal entities
Security Clearance: Level 4-Alpha
Notes: Demonstrates exceptional intuition when tracking non-corporeal entities. Trained in traditional Shinto purification rituals.
Nationality: Russian
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 160 lbs
Physical Description: Blonde hair, blue eyes
Affiliation: смерть-13 (Death-13), KGB Black Division
Role: Research scientist and field operative
Security Clearance: Level 3-Omega
Notes: Specializes in biological manifestations of supernatural phenomena. Involved in Project CHIMERA. Exhibits unusual resistance to psychic influence.
Nationality: American
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 175 lbs
Physical Description: Brown hair, green eyes
Affiliation: Central Intelligence Agency, Division 17
Role: Asset development and containment specialist
Security Clearance: Level 3-Echo
Notes: Youngest field agent to complete Program THRESHOLD. Skilled in negotiation with non-human entities. Carries modified tactical equipment designed for paranormal engagement.
Nationality: British
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 140 lbs
Physical Description: Red hair, green eyes
Affiliation: Secret Intelligence Service (SIS/MI6), Department P
Role: Intelligence gathering and observation specialist
Security Clearance: Level 4-Bravo
Notes: Expert in occult symbolism and folklore. Known for maintaining cover during long-term infiltration operations. Currently monitoring emergence patterns in urban centers.
Nationality: Chinese
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 150 lbs
Physical Description: Black hair, blue eyes
Affiliation: Ministry of State Security (MSS), Unit 61398-Κ
Role: Acquisition and research analyst
Security Clearance: Level 3-Delta
Notes: Specializes in containment technology. Developed modified Faraday systems for spectral entities. Fluent in ancient Tibetan dialects used in supernatural binding rituals.
There true identities are unknown to Kayo , but are known by each other , the race to kayo begins now
____________________________________________________________________________
For some odd reason, they all gravitated toward Kayo, taking the empty seats surrounding him in the back of the classroom. Kayo felt himself becoming the center of an unwanted constellation, with these five strangers inexplicably orbiting around him. The air between them hummed with tension that none of his regular classmates seemed to notice.
"U-uh, can I help you five with anything?" Kayo finally asked, his voice betraying his discomfort as the transfer students continued to stare at him with undisguised interest. The shadow hand hidden beneath his desk twitched involuntarily, responding to his growing unease.
Jack leaned back in his chair, an easy smile playing across his lips that didn't match the calculating look in his eyes. "Yeah, got a cig or something, kid?" His American drawl seemed almost deliberately exaggerated, as if he were playing a character rather than being himself.
Ash rolled her eyes, her fiery red hair catching the classroom light as she turned sharply toward Jack. "Can you shut the hell up, you dumb American?" The venom in her voice seemed disproportionate to Jack's casual question, suggesting a history between them that went far beyond this classroom.
Jack laughed it off, but there was something predatory in his grin. "Someone's mad. What, you didn't get to eat your beans and toast for breakfast? Can I get you a bottle of wotta?!" He deliberately mangled the pronunciation, mocking her British accent with exaggerated mouth movements.
Ash's green eyes narrowed dangerously, her hand moving slightly beneath her desk in a way that made Kayo instinctively tense. "I'll put a bullet in your skull, prick," she whispered, low enough that only those in their immediate vicinity could hear. The casual mention of violence sent a chill down Kayo's spine—normal transfer students didn't threaten to shoot each other within minutes of arriving at a new school.
Before Kayo could process this exchange, Makarov leaned forward, extending a pale hand toward him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend," he said in a voice that was simultaneously warm and frigid, like ice under sunlight. His blue eyes assessed Kayo with clinical precision, as if cataloging his every reaction.
Goto swiftly reached out, physically lowering Makarov's outstretched hand before Kayo could decide whether to accept the handshake. "He doesn't want to shake hands with a dirty Russian like you," Goto stated flatly in perfect Japanese, his words carrying an undercurrent of genuine hostility that seemed to reference conflicts far beyond classroom politics.
Makarov's pleasant expression hardened instantly, his accent thickening with anger. "You have some nerve, pig," he hissed, the last word carrying particular weight, as if 'pig' were more than just an insult—perhaps a specific reference to Goto's background or allegiance.
As the two began to argue in increasingly heated but hushed tones, using terminology that occasionally slipped into what sounded like specialized jargon, Xin smoothly inserted himself into the conversation. He moved with practiced efficiency, positioning himself between Kayo and the arguing pair.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly," Xin said with formal courtesy that felt rehearsed. "My name is Xin Shao, and yours is?" His eyes never quite met Kayo's, instead scanning the classroom continuously in a pattern that suggested security training rather than social anxiety.
Kayo swallowed nervously, increasingly certain that these were no ordinary transfer students. Still, he maintained his facade of normalcy. "My name's Kinoshita Kayo," he replied evenly, controlling his breathing as The Smiler had taught him. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." The polite formality of his response felt absurd given the charged atmosphere, but Kayo was determined to reveal nothing of his suspicions.
Jack abruptly shoved Xin aside with enough force to make the smaller student stumble, though Xin recovered with unexpected grace. "Please, like he would want to shake hands with a dirty communist," Jack sneered, the term 'communist' carrying the same oddly specific weight as Makarov's 'pig' comment toward Goto.
Kayo just sat there, outwardly displaying confusion while inwardly cataloging every interaction, every microexpression, and every subtle hint that these five were more than they appeared. His shadow hand, hidden beneath his desk, flexed in preparation for potential conflict, though he hoped it wouldn't come to that in the middle of his classroom.
The next few classes passed in a blur of uncomfortable surveillance. No matter where Kayo went, at least one of the five transfer students was nearby, watching him with varying degrees of subtlety. They maintained their cover as students, answering questions when called upon and taking notes, but their attention never truly left Kayo.
During lunch, he managed to slip away momentarily, the need for solitude overwhelming after hours under their scrutiny. His free period offered a precious opportunity to practice with his shadow hand, to center himself and prepare for whatever these strangers might represent.
Kayo made his way to the roof, his usual private sanctuary for training. He pushed open the heavy metal door, the familiar creak providing a moment of normalcy in what had become an increasingly bizarre day.
That normalcy shattered instantly as he stepped onto the roof. All five transfer students stood in a loose circle, bodies tensed in combat-ready stances. More shocking than their presence was what they held—each had a firearm drawn and pointed at another in a deadly pentagon of mutual threat.
Goto's sleek black pistol was aimed at Makarov's head. Makarov's silver handgun targeted Xin. Xin's compact weapon was trained on Jack. Jack's matte military-style sidearm pointed unwavering at Ash, while Ash's engraved revolver completed the circuit by targeting Goto.
None of them seemed surprised by Kayo's arrival. Indeed, they barely acknowledged him, their focus entirely on each other as years of international tension and institutional rivalry crystallized in this impromptu standoff.
The door closed behind Kayo with a heavy finality. The wind whipped across the rooftop, carrying away the ambient sounds of the schoolyard below and leaving only the tense silence of five trained operatives on the edge of violence—and one boy with a shadow for a hand, caught in the middle of something far larger than he had imagined.
"So it's safe to assume you aren't regular students," Kayo said, his voice steadier than he expected given the five firearms pointed at each other in a deadly pentagon of mutual distrust.
The heavy metal door closed behind him with an ominous thud that seemed to seal his fate. Wind whipped across the rooftop, carrying autumn leaves in small spirals and tousling Kayo's hair as he stood frozen at the entrance. Below, he could hear the distant laughter of students enjoying their lunch break, oblivious to the lethal standoff unfolding above them.
Jack's lips curled into a sardonic smile, never taking his eyes off Ash as he kept his matte black sidearm trained on her. "No fucking shit, kid. What gave it away? The guns or the fact that none of us can stand each other?"
"The accents were a bit much," Kayo replied, surprising himself with his own gallows humor. The Smiler stirred within him, its presence heightened by the danger.
Makarov's pale fingers tightened around his silver handgun, the barrel unwavering as it pointed at Xin's forehead. "We've been tracking you for weeks, Kinoshita. Ever since your... incident." His blue eyes flicked briefly to Kayo's pinned sleeve. "The hospital logs made for interesting reading."
"Medical privacy laws exist for a reason," Goto interjected, his black pistol aimed steadily at Makarov. A thin sheen of sweat betrayed his tension despite his composed exterior. "The PSIA has jurisdiction here. This is Japanese soil, and he is a Japanese citizen."
Xin scoffed, the sound sharp in the tense air. His compact weapon remained perfectly level, pointed at Jack's chest. "Jurisdiction means nothing when national security is at stake. The anomaly must be studied properly."
"Anomaly?" Kayo echoed, his shadow hand flexing invisibly beneath his pinned sleeve. "Is that what I am to you people?"
Ash took a small step forward, her red hair catching fire in the sunlight. The movement caused all four guns to adjust minutely, tracking her. Her vintage revolver—ornate and deadly—never wavered from Goto's temple. "You're a breakthrough, love. First documented case of spectral symbiosis with conscious control. Do you have any idea how valuable that makes you?"
Jack barked a laugh. "Look at the MI6 operative trying to sweet-talk the asset. Real subtle, Ash."
"At least I'm not planning to dissect him like your Langley friends," she shot back, her British accent sharpening with anger. "We've all seen the reports from Project THRESHOLD. Your idea of 'asset development' involves a scalpel and no anesthesia."
"The American government wants Kayo the most," Jack stated flatly, ignoring her accusation. He shifted his weight, causing Xin to adjust his aim. "We have the facilities, the expertise, and most importantly—" he flashed a white-toothed smile, "—a budget that makes your operations look like a school bake sale."
"Like hell," Goto hissed, a vein pulsing in his temple. "You're in Japan, OUR country. Why would we give him to you? He's rare and special—a Japanese citizen under Japanese protection."
Makarov's cold laugh cut through the tension. "Protection? Is that what you call it? The Russians are taking Kayo, and that's final." His finger twitched slightly on the trigger, causing everyone to tense. "The смерть-13 division has been researching spectral symbiosis since 1962. Your agencies are infants playing with matches."
The air on the rooftop seemed to crackle with competing ambitions and institutional rivalry. Kayo took a cautious step backward, only to find that all five agents were acutely aware of his movement despite their focus on each other.
"Stay where you are, Kinoshita," Goto ordered without looking at him. "This is for your own safety."
Jack snorted derisively. "Safety. Right. The only thing your agency is going to do is test him and then kill him when the results don't match your theories." He adjusted his grip on his weapon. "At least the CIA is honest about our intentions."
"And what exactly are those intentions?" Kayo asked, trying to buy time as he assessed his options. The shadow hand beneath his sleeve was gathering strength, responding to his heightened emotions.
Jack's green eyes flicked to him briefly. "National security. Enhancement protocols. The usual."
"Vivisection, you mean," Ash interjected. Her knuckles whitened around her revolver. "I think the British should take him. We have a long history of handling paranormal artifacts and entities with proper respect."
"Colonizer's respect," Xin murmured, just loud enough to be heard. "The MSS has files on your Department P. Your 'respect' involves containment boxes and dampening fields."
Kayo felt his patience snap. "I'm not going with anyone, and that's final!" His voice rang across the rooftop, startling a flock of pigeons into flight from a nearby ledge.
Suddenly, all five agents pivoted in perfect synchronization, weapons now trained directly on him. The formation was so fluid it must have been practiced—a contingency they'd all silently agreed upon despite their mutual antagonism.
Kayo blinked three times, activating his spiritual sight. The transformation in his perception was immediate and shocking. Each agent was surrounded by a faint aura that pulsed with unnatural energy—not quite human, not quite supernatural. Something in between.
"You've all been... modified," he whispered, understanding dawning. "You're like me. Parts of you have been replaced with something else."
A moment of uncomfortable silence followed his observation. None of them denied it.
"Woah, calm down," Kayo raised his one visible hand placatingly, heart pounding. "No need to point those at me. We can talk like civilized people."
Jack's expression hardened. "You're coming with me. The CIA has protocols for individuals with your... condition. Better than what these agencies can offer." His gun remained steady, aimed at Kayo's chest.
"You mean better isolation chambers," Goto countered, his attention divided between Kayo and the other agents. "Your facilities at Groom Lake are glorified prisons."
Within seconds, they returned to their original pentagon formation, guns once again pointed at each other rather than at Kayo. The shift was so practiced it seemed choreographed, revealing how long these five had been working in proximity, studying each other's movements and habits.
"No, I'm not going anywhere," Kayo insisted, his voice stronger now. "I'm not leaving my family. I have a life here—friends, school, parents who would notice if I disappeared."
Ash's laugh was brittle. "Notice? Please. We have protocols for that. Memory modification, replacement scenarios, documentation—"
"That's enough," Goto cut her off sharply. His eyes narrowed at her. "Exactly. If the kid wants to stay, the Japanese will take control here. PSIA jurisdiction is non-negotiable on Japanese soil."
Kayo saw an opening and took it. "If I had to choose anyone, I'm going with Goto since he's Japanese. At least I'd still be in my own country." It wasn't a complete commitment, but it was enough to shift the dynamic. He had no intention of going with any of them, but alliance with Goto might buy him time.
The tension in the air shifted palpably. Jack's weapon lowered a fraction of an inch as he assessed this new development. "The CIA will agree if we have access to the files on him. Full transparency, joint research initiatives."
"As long as he's contained, I'm fine with it," Ash conceded reluctantly, though her revolver remained firmly pointed at Goto. "MI6 expects quarterly reports and visitation rights for our specialists."
Makarov said nothing, his pale face a mask of calculation as he weighed his options. After a long moment, he gave a barely perceptible nod, his expression promising this wasn't over.
Xin likewise remained silent, but his eyes conveyed volumes—watchful, assessing, planning. His silent acquiescence seemed more dangerous than open opposition.
"Then it's decided," Goto stated with finality, though the tension in his shoulders belied his confident tone. "The PSIA takes primary custody, with information sharing as agreed."
Slowly, methodically, all five agents lowered their weapons. Kayo noticed how none fully holstered them—keeping them at their sides, ready to raise again at the slightest provocation.
Goto turned to Kayo, his expression professionally neutral. "I'll be in contact with you later this week. Go about your normal routine until then." His eyes flicked meaningfully to Kayo's pinned sleeve. "And be careful with your... abilities. You're being watched."
The five agents filed past Kayo toward the rooftop door, each passing close enough that he could feel their presence—smell their cologne, gunpowder, and the faint ozone scent of whatever unnatural modifications they carried within them. Jack gave him a mock salute as he passed, while Ash's fingers brushed against his good arm in what might have been a warning or a promise.
As the heavy door closed behind them, Kayo remained on the rooftop, the autumn wind suddenly cold against his skin. His shadow hand pulsed beneath his sleeve, responding to the torrent of emotions flooding through him—fear, confusion, anger, and beneath it all, a strange sense that this confrontation was just the beginning.
The lunch bell rang in the distance, calling students back to class. Below him, normal life continued—but for Kayo, normalcy had just become an even more distant memory