Night soon came upon the Onryo headquarters. All the Hunters began making preparations for their respective missions, before heading off to bed. They all had dangerous roads ahead of them, and each one thought it was ideal to embark first thing in the morning. Mizuchi had been packing his things and sharpening the edge of his polearm when he heard a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Mizuchi called out. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Roka’s voice answered. “May I come in?”

As soon as Mizuchi opened the door, Roka wrapped her arms around him.

“What was that for?” Mizuchi chuckled.

“Nothing I’m just really happy to see you,” Roka smiled. “It’s been a really long time.”

“It has,” Mizuchi replied, smiling back.

Mizuchi looked at his little sister as she was holding him close. He almost didn’t recognize her. Time flew so fast that Roka was no longer a child. Instead, she has grown to be a very beautiful woman. Her long, wavy obsidian hair fell on her shoulders like a gentle river. Her eyes shone with the innocence of a little girl, but at the same time had the depth of an experienced warrior. Her scent was that of fragrant cherry blossoms, and she wore a nightgown that accentuated her well-defined curves. Mizuchi cringed at the fact that it wouldn’t be long before he hears a gentleman ask for his sister’s hand in marriage. As if she knew what he was thinking, Roka laughed.

“Don’t worry brother,” Roka winked. “I’ve had a few suitors, but I’m not some doe-eyed damsel some gentleman can just sweep off my feet.”

“I highly doubt that,” Mizuchi chuckled.

Roka pouted and punched his arm. This made Mizuchi laugh even more.

“But have you met anyone who you’re attracted to though?” Mizuchi asked.

Roka’s face immediately became red like a tomato. She stammered as she answered:

“I…uh…yes but that’s a secret!”

“Ohohoho!” Mizuchi teased. “I wonder who could it be?”

“W-What happened to your eye?” Roka asked, trying to change the subject.

“Oh this?” Mizuchi replied. “Well, some shithead shot me in the eye as I was having my duel with Tatsuya.”

“This Tatsuya,” Roka asked curiously. “What’s he like?”

Seeing Mizuchi smirk and raise an eyebrow, Roka frantically waved her arms.

“No, I meant what’s he like as a warrior? I need to know I’m sending out on missions…”

“Uh-huh sure,” Mizuchi answered, rolling his eyes as Roka blushed. “Well, he’s the best warrior I’ve ever fought. In fact, all of these Hunters that we have are some of the finest fighters in all the land.”

“He must be pretty impressive,” Roka commented.

“Why are you so interested about him?” Mizuchi chuckled.

He nudged his sister’s shoulder as he teased:

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” Roka pouted as she punched her brother in the shoulder again.

“I’m sure you two will get along,” Mizuchi teased some more. “Pretty decent guy. Got a few demons, but a reliable ally if you ask me.”

“Hopefully,” Roka sighed. “I hope none of them sees me as this cold, ruthless leader.”

“You’ll be fine,” Mizuchi reassured her. “If anything, you proved to be a capable commander of the rebellion.”

“Thanks,” Roka smiled. “I learned from the best.”

“From Tatsuya?” Mizuchi teased.

“Stop it,” Roka answered. “Anyway, it’s getting late. We need to rest for our difficult missions ahead.”

“Indeed,” Mizuchi replied.

Roka cupped her brother’s face in her hands as she stared at him.

“Promise that you won’t die on me,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. I can’t afford to lose you again.”

“I won’t,” Mizuchi reassured her. “You take care as well. I want to see my sister at her own wedding.”

“You will,” Roka smiled. “Good night brother.”

“Good night,” Mizuchi answered.

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It was another boisterous night at seaside tavern. The smell of booze and sweat filled the air thanks to the sailors, pirates and thieves that frequented the area. Occasionally someone would steal another person's bag of coins. Some would even be so bold as to steal bowls when the bartender wasn't looking. Then there were the unavoidable perverts who would try to sexually harass the waitresses, only to be deservingly punched by a disgusted onlooker leading to a fight. Brawls happened often in this tavern. More often than not, this was how someone earned a reputation in these parts. Perhaps the most feared of these brawlers was a pirate named Hojo Tora. Around these parts he goes by the moniker Byakko, a mythical White Tiger. Some say the nickname was deserving, as this feared warrior can command the four winds as he sees fit.

This was the man that Kazan was looking for. It had been three days since he and his companions parted ways to go on their separate missions. Wearing a straw hat to hide his face, the dark monk sat at a corner. He silently observed the patrons one by one, but it seemed that Tora was not around. After giving a tip to the bartender, Kazan was informed that brutes were sent after the pirate. It would only be a matter of time.

Just then the brutes appeared, dragging the aforementioned pirate. He had spiky hair like a sea urchin, a hastily shaved beard, and the built body of a porter. His tanned skin was decorated with fearsome tattoos all over his arms. He smelled as if he had taken a bath in sake, a clear indication that he was drunk. The pirate kicked and cursed, trying to break free from his captors.

"Let me go you punks!" he screamed. "If you bastards haven't snuck up on me like cowards, I would kill you both!"

"You've got a lot of nerve for someone who left without paying!" the bartender growled. "Maybe I should hand you over to the clans! The reward for your head will cover your debt, and then some!"

"Why you slimy worm!" Tora cursed.

"Pardon me bartender," Kazan interrupted. "But I have a proposal that might interest you."

"Oh?" the bartender said, his eyes glistening with greed. "Let's hear it."

"I've heard of this ferocious pirate that calls himself Byakko," Kazan replied, smirking. "So, I wish to see if what people said about him was true. That being said I wish to challenge him to a duel."

"You are way in over your head monk," Tora scoffed, but Kazan ignored him.

"If Byakko wins, then I will triple what he owes you," Kazan said. "But if I win, then the pirate will not only surrender himself but his entire crew to the clans."

The thought of striking it rich sounded too appealing for the bartender to pass up. He immediately agreed to the wager.

"I hope you've said your prayers," Tora growled. "Because I'm taking your head monk. Name the location."

"I have a ship over there," Kazan pointed. "We shall have our duel aboard the ship."

"Doesn't matter," Tora replied arrogantly. "Be prepared to die."

"No onlookers," Kazan said, adding an additional stipulation. "No one else needs to get hurt. We fight at midnight. Whoever wins brings the head of the loser to the tavern in the morning."

"Very well," Tora replied, unfazed by the extra rule that was intended as a threat.

"You better bring me his head!" the bartender interjected.