Chapter 28 - Croissant Moon

A/N:

Hey guys. Hope you're all doing well. I haven't been writing for the past few weeks because I recently lost a close relative of mine to cancer. It was sudden, and no one in the family ever knew they even had cancer. By the time we found out, he already had terminal cancer.

It's been a rough couple of weeks, but I've mostly recovered. I'll try to stick to my previous upload schedule of every 2-4 days.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy, and thanks for reading. Please point out any glaring mistakes.

P.S. Spend some quality time with your loved ones because you never know when you'll have your last conversation with them.

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The pale glow of the full moon spilled through the windows, casting ethereal light upon Karasuma's office, painting the room in a soft, silver luminescence.

As he lifted a cup of delicious coffee to his lips, Karasuma took a moment to enjoy the warmth of the cup and the rich smell of the coffee. It calmed his nerves. Their investigation on the mass murderer/assassin/vigilante had reached a plateau. After the imprisonment of Hikaru Kamiki, activity from the man had ceased, leaving them in the dark. They didn't know if he was resting, biding his time, or if he had already left the city.

For now, they can only wait as the psychiatrists and psychologists he had called in did their best to treat and retrieve information from the man. Problem is, they were barely making any progress. They underestimated how mentally, physically, and emotionally unstable Hikaru was. It didn't help that they detected an unknown chemical compound in his system that impaired his brain's functions. They theorised it to be the leading cause of the man's mental and emotional instability, and for his own safety, they had to restrain and sedate him.

Despite their efforts, they had made no progress in developing an antidote.

Karasuma sighed after drinking the last sip of coffee. He was exhausted. There were no more leads and no more ways to track their target. Now, they had to play the waiting game.

'I wonder who it really is behind all this.'

Clicking his tongue, Karasuma turned with his empty cup in hand, about to head to the staff kitchen and get something to eat. But when he turned around, he immediately let go of the cup and raised his fists in alarm. The cup shattered as it hit the floor, its brittle body fracturing into countless shards of porcelain.

Leaning on the office door with his arms crossed was what looked to be a massive, white-haired Caucasian man in his thirties wearing a tan brown jacket. A black eyepatch covered his right eye.

'How did he get in? I didn't even notice him entering the room.' Karasuma's jaw tightened with worry.

"I heard you've been looking for me, Tadaomi Karasuma," the man said casually. His deep voice was steady, as if he hadn't just broken into a secure facility. "Well, here I am. Don't worry. I'm not here to kill you. You'd have been dead already if I was."

Karasuma's thoughts were in disarray, yet he remained as calm as he could be in front of the man's subtle threat. This was the murderer they were looking for all this time? And the man knew his name somehow. His mind raced with questions, but he asked the one most important to him as of this moment.

"Who are you?"

The man almost looked bored as he answered. "I'm a mercenary and assassin-for-hire, at your service. But you can call me Deathstroke."

"Deathstroke," Karasuma repeated to himself. It didn't ring any bells. "You're a hired gun? That doesn't explain why you subdued all those criminals. With how you left behind a calling card, I'd call you a vigilante instead," Karasuma said.

Deathstroke shrugged. "This city needed some cleaning up, and I took it upon myself to do it. It's not *my* fault that drug-trafficking has been flourishing here."

"What about—"

"The rapists and pedophiles? As far as I'm concerned, those bastards had it coming. I know you've investigated my case. You've seen what those pieces of shit did to their victims, including the kids. Can you honestly tell me they deserve better?" Deathstroke replied with an ice-cold glare. "The police aren't doing a good job, either. I know about the bribes and corruption plaguing it. I'd suspect some of your superiors know about it as well and have turned a blind eye."

That wasn't news to Karasuma. But he frowned at the implications of that statement.

"Then tell me. Why are you here?"

In response, Deathstroke pulled something out of his jacket's inside pocket and tossed it to him. Karasuma caught it and inspected the hard drive in his hand.

"You see, I just moved into this country and I wanted to make some connections. Aside from a way to contact me, you'll find my information on that drive. I assure you I only offer the best services. Plus, you've seen what I can do," said Deathstroke, the edges of his lips curling up.

"I have." Karasuma nodded with furrowed brows and placed the drive on the table behind him, his eyes locked on Deathstroke as he did so. At least he finally had something definitive he could give to his higher-ups. "Are you not afraid of being captured? There are dozens of officers in this building, and there's only one of you," he said threateningly.

Deathstroke snorted, an arrogant smile plastered on his face. "All of you against me? No chance in hell. You'd have better luck winning the lottery than beating me."

"How are you so sure of that?" Karasuma cautiously asked.

Karasuma blinked, and Deathstroke had suddenly vanished. Alarms instantly rang inside his head, but before he could even move, he felt the cold touch of metal on his throat. A knife.

Karasuma stayed still, his heart slightly pounding in his chest. 'What the — How the hell did he do that?'

"Do you understand now?"

Karasuma suppressed the urge to gulp as Deathstroke pressed the knife into his skin. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to reinforce his point.

"Stay out of my business, and I won't cause problems. That's my message to you and your superiors. Do I make myself clear?" Deathstroke said slowly.

"Understood," Karasuma calmly replied.

"Good."

As soon as Karasuma no longer felt the blade on his neck, he put as much distance before him and Deathstroke. But when he looked behind him, Deathstroke had somehow already vanished into thin air. Thinking he was hiding somewhere, Karasuma searched, checking every inch of the room, but he was nowhere to be found.

Still, he couldn't believe it. How could someone disappear like that?

Finally able to take a breath, Karasuma sat down in a chair. He stared at the ceiling while rubbing his neck, remembering the icy touch of the knife. His training in the elite forces and the many dangerous situations he'd experienced left him thinking there was no one in the world he couldn't match or at least fight off in combat.

Now… now he knew better.

As Karasuma thought back to the moment Deathstroke snuck up behind him in the literal blink of an eye, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 'Deathstroke is far more dangerous than I ever thought.'

Who trained him? Where did he come from? How has he stayed off-grid for this long?

These questions were at the forefront of Karasuma's mind. He found it highly unlikely that someone with Deathstroke's capabilities and name wouldn't be infamous in some part of the world. Furthermore, he couldn't recall anyone with such skill on their list of prime suspects, including internationally infamous assassins and mercenaries.

Karasuma let out a heavy sigh. 'We at least know who we're dealing with now, even if we don't know his true identity.'

His eyes locked onto the hard drive on the table. Should he count himself lucky that Deathstroke revealed himself and saved him the trouble of finding him? Karasuma shook his head at that notion. His superiors will most likely want to investigate and interrogate Deathstroke with more fervor than before, and he'll be the middleman.

Karasuma grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

"Agent Karasuma, what matter is so important that you had to call at this time?"

"I apologize for calling this late, sir. But I just met—"

"Please hold on for a moment. Someone else is calling," the Chief of Staff interrupted.

It irritated Karasuma, but there was nothing he could do but wait. As he waited, the light from outside noticeably dimmed. But as far as he knew, it wasn't cloudy outside, and it was a full moon today.

Curious about the cause, Karasuma looked outside the window. What he saw made him stand up, and shock instantly filled his system. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, thinking he was hallucinating. Yet, when he looked back at the moon, what he saw remained the same.

Up in the night sky, a crescent moon drew his eyes. A crescent moon, not a full moon like it was supposed to be. The moon had somehow lost an enormous chunk of itself, leaving a gaping hole that would permanently make it crescent-shaped.

"Agent Karasuma! Agent Karasuma!" the Chief of Staff's panicked voice echoed from the phone. "I apologize, but there's an urgent matter I need to attend to."

"Is it about the moon, sir?" Karasuma asked.

"…It is. I'll contact you again once I'm done," the Chief answered before ending the call.

Karasuma crashed back into the chair, massaging his temple, his elbow on one knee.

'I need to go on a vacation.'

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After his friendly conversation with Karasuma, Jason made his way back to his condo, dashing on top of rooftops.

[That is an incredible piece of technology right there,] Wheatley commented as Jason took off his Smart Mask and eye patch, returning to his normal face. [I can't believe how you're able to change your face just like that.]

"Convenient, isn't it?" Jason stored the mask and the eye patch and put on his Red Hood helmet.

[Though I do have a question. Why'd you go through all that trouble of convincing him you were someone else? You could have just worn your helmet. And they won't be able to find anything on you, anyway. You're not a native of this world.]

"True, but you can never be too cautious when dealing with governments. Look, I had one reason in mind when I did that. By giving them a name and a face, I'll be able to operate without worrying about the government trying to figure out who I really am. Mostly, anyway. If I didn't do that, they would just keep pestering about my identity."

[Oh. I see. Didn't think of that. Hold on. What's going on?]

As soon as Jason noticed the light coming from the moon dimming, he stopped in his tracks. There were no clouds in the sky blocking the moon, and with his extraordinary vision, he had a clear look at the moon.

"Ah shit. What the hell happened?"

[I'm not seeing things, right? Cause, uh, it looks like the moon is missing around seventy percent of its mass. It resembles that one human food — a croissant! Or a curled up shrimp.]

Jason immediately brought out his tablet and checked the government and military channels for any clue about what had happened to the moon. However, no matter how much he searched, he couldn't find anything.

'Damn it.' Jason frowned as he looked double and triple checked every channel. Nothing.

[You don't think it's because of aliens, do you? Cause I can't think of anything in human hands capable of doing that to the moon.]

"I don't think so. At least, that doesn't seem to be the case," Jason said, with doubt in his voice. Based on previous events that happened in his old world, someone rich and powerful might have done it for some fucked up reason.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, Jason stored the tablet and continued on his way.

"The moon losing that much mass will cause issues, but nothing too big." Jason performed some quick calculations in his head. "The moon will move closer to Earth because of how little mass it has now than before. It'll also start orbiting the planet faster because of the closer proximity. There's more, but I don't need to explain them. You'll find out when the world goes crazy over this. It'll be all over news broadcasts and social media."

Still, what the hell could destroy the moon?

He'd play the waiting game for now and see what happens.

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On a mountain overlooking Tokyo stood a three meters tall, yellow octopus-like creature wearing a black academic dress.