6

Kenzo and Endo navigated the underground tunnel together. 

The revelation of the attendance of the man surprised Kenzo because he would be relinquishing power that he shouldn't be if his identity was known. 

This leader headed a formidable death squad, feared even by cartels. 

Kenzo pondered the enigmatic nature of this figure, whose identity remained a well-guarded secret, as if he existed in the shadows. 

The tunnel, equipped with a lever capable of sealing it off without affecting the surface, showcased intricate architecture for both security and danger. Endo, motivated solely by financial gains, lacked Kenzo's curiosity. Despite its concealed danger, the tunnel boasted an elegant design, resembling a sophisticated hallway. 

Unable to conceal his curiosity, Kenzo broke his usual demeanor, asking, "What do you think he looks like?"

"The boss? I don't care, as long as we get paid," Endo stated flatly. Just as they were about to continue their conversation, indistinct chatter echoed ahead.

"We're here," Endo muttered, causing Kenzo to brace himself. A metal door with sophisticated identification technology embedded beside it stood in their way. Entry wasn't granted to just anyone, and the reinforced door ensured security.

This tunnel interconnected with every part of Shinjuku, facilitating easy meetings for all the killers under their umbrella. 

The door swung open, confirming their identification through optical means.

Stepping into the room, they found twelve chairs arranged, the usual number for their meetings. 

However, Kenzo anticipated an additional chair to welcome the man responsible for making it all possible.

Everyone was present, and no one had their identification hidden except one person wearing a face mask that covered his lower face.

He had a dark complexion and black afro. Kenzo was wary of him, as he showed an unhealthy interest in Kenzo's life. 

The man excelled in profiling, making Kenzo his chosen subject, but it never escalated to stalking or this man would have ceased to exist long ago. 

Endo found his seat, with Kenzo following soon after, sensing the anxiety among the others. 

"Your mask looks different today," the dark-skinned man noted, a detail even Endo, with his observant nature, couldn't discern.

Kenzo didn't bother responding verbally. It wasn't the first time he noticed something as irrelevant as this, showing his perceptiveness. 

"You're so weird, Miles," replied Endo. 

The others present ignored the ongoing conversation, waiting for the purpose of the meeting to be revealed. 

Miles stared at Kenzo like a schoolgirl with a crush, but the assassin was used to such reactions. 

Kenzo realized the head of the Death Squad wouldn't be physically present, supported by the big screen on the wall.

He felt disappointed but should have expected this revelation.

The large screen flickered briefly, then stabilized with a secured frequency, making it impossible for anyone to detect the wavelength or network. Behind the screen, there was no one—just an empty chair where they expected the boss to be seated.

They usually communicated with him through voice calls, but this was their first video call, and Kenzo was fine with the change because it meant he could see the man behind the organization. 

The Death Squad recently clashed with other underground syndicates as they had began to monopolize the assassination business, posing a threat to groups making a living from it.

Despite the political implications, Kenzo wasn't concerned; he was in this business not for the money, but because he enjoyed taking lives.

There was a symphony in the cries of people about to face their fate; it felt pure, and that was the best music he had ever heard.

"The boss, who else?" responded Endo, but Kenzo realized in that moment that the boss hadn't called this meeting.

"It's a trap," Kenzo whispered, and all the other assassins focused on him.

"Eh? What do you mean by a trap?" Endo was genuinely clueless, while Miles admired Kenzo's quick deductive skills.

"This was never a meeting to begin with," Kenzo muttered with a sigh.

"This is my execution," Kenzo stated, yet there was no hint of fear in his eyes. Even without his newfound powers, he wouldn't flinch at the thought of death, but he understood that conventional means couldn't kill him.

Kenzo's deduction was accurate as someone swiftly slid across the table, wielding a katana in an attempt to decapitate him with a one-handed swing before he could draw his gun; she was exceptionally fast. Kenzo dodged just in time, delivering a punch to her torso, but she blocked it with her hand. 

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. Kenzo, noticing the barrel just in time through his peripheral vision, narrowly evaded the shot, although it grazed his left arm.

Confused by the sensation of pain as he should be impervious to such things.

"Blood?" He realized that, despite his powers, he still felt pain as a human would. Perhaps this ability didn't grant the immortality he had assumed. Recognizing the impossibility of facing all attackers simultaneously, he swiftly exited the room to avoid being slaughtered.

With four of the eleven killers in pursuit, having already inflicted injury on their target, Kenzo understood the danger. A wounded animal, however, could be formidable.

"This doesn't make sense. Why would anyone want to kill him?" Endo questioned, showing no emotional distress about what was about to happen.

"It's simple. He has become a liability. The dons have spoken, and I'm afraid the Oni's execution has been approved by the four dons who rule it," Miles noted.

How he got hold of this information was a mystery, but the dons were the four most powerful people in the underworld.

The boss of the Death Squad worked under one of those dons and had no choice but to comply with their orders.

Endo had a look of concern in his eyes for a brief second but he realised that this was Kenzo, the man that has defied death so many times. 

Endo couldn't help but smile, it was ironic that Kenzo had spoken about killing him should the order come in and now, he was the one being hunted