1 "From Shadow to Light: Kayne’s Second Life"

At the edge of Deerton, where the streets give way to vacant lots and industrial wastelands, stands a skeletal warehouse. Its metal structure, eaten away by rust, cuts against the gray sky like a forgotten specter. Once, this warehouse housed a thriving industrial activity, but time and indifference have reduced it to a decrepit ghost.

In the center of the room, a dilapidated wooden chair on which sits a young man about eighteen years old, blindfolded and hands tied to the backrest.

"Where the hell am I?" a frightened voice broke the silence of the warehouse. "I don't know who you are, nor why you're doing this. But my brother will find you and kill you if you don't let me go."

"Oh really? A calm and threatening voice was heard. "You really think you can do whatever you want because your brother plays gangsters?"

"I can give you money, man... that's what you'll get, lots of dough! But please let me go."

"Let me think, so you're telling me you're going to give me lots of money after threatening my guys and insulting me. You really think your damn money can buy respect, Billy? Untie him, guys," he said gravely.

After being untied, what he saw disconcerted him. It was three kids about three years younger than him who had put him through this shame. He regained confidence and was preparing to teach them a lesson, but when he saw the face of the one who was advancing in his direction, his face suddenly turned pale. It was none other than Kayne, the rabid dog of the street.

Kayne, fifteen years old, was known in the neighborhood for his tattoos and braids. His hard face and piercing eyes reflected a life marked by violence. Very young, he understood that to have respect, he had to either have money or have strength. Unfortunately lacking money, he was left with only the second option. He often hung out with his gang, spreading terror among the local thugs and had established their base in this abandoned warehouse.

This warehouse has become a symbol of urban decay, an open wound at the heart of the city. Its presence was a constant reminder of the violence that plagues society and the inability of public authorities to curb this scourge.

After seeing who was going to be his opponent, Billy instinctively knew he had no chance of victory, but he clenched his fists; he had no other choice anyway.

"Come at me, bastard," he yelled as he lunged at Kayne.

For his part, Kayne had an impassive and confident face. He had no trouble dodging Billy. After that, he followed up with a series of increasingly violent punches. His fists, like hammers, fell on Billy's body, who took the blows without flinching. But each impact brought him closer to defeat, his bruised body crying for mercy.

Despite the pain, Billy refused to give in. He drew on his last reserves of energy, his eyes fixed on those of his aggressor, issuing a silent challenge to his opponent. A violent blow struck him on the temple, making him stagger. The world began to spin around him, his vision blurred.

In a last effort, Billy gathered all his strength and threw a punch in the direction of Kayne's jaw, who quickly ducked to avoid it. He was surprised by the fervor of his opponent but immediately retaliated with a violent blow to the solar plexus, doubling Billy over in pain.

Billy knelt, out of breath and on the verge of fainting. Kayne, showing no sign of fatigue, stood before him.

"This is what happens when you mess with my guys," he said, giving his opponent a knee strike that knocked him out.

The fight hadn't even lasted five minutes. Kayne then ordered that Billy be carried out to the neighboring street where his brother's guys were.

[...]

Five days later. Night had fallen, draping the narrow alleys in its cloak of darkness. Kayne walked quietly, his eyes lost in the void. Suddenly, he had the feeling of being followed, a sense of unease seized him.

"You're not afraid, I see. Come then," he thought as he entered a deserted alley. Three figures emerged from the darkness, blocking his retreat. Men with evil looks, armed with knives and baseball bats. Kayne froze, assessing the situation with a quick glance. He was alone, and these men seemed really determined to take his life.

"I see that insects no longer know their place. You must have kissed the only daughter of a demon to rush towards your death like that," he said with a smile.

"Shut up!" yelled one of the guys. "Who the hell do you think you are!"

After uttering these words, he advanced, brandishing a sharpened knife. He struck with incredible violence, aiming for Kayne's throat. But Kayne, agile as a cat, dodged the attack with a fluid movement. He retaliated with a sharp punch to the face of his assailant, making him stagger back several steps.

"Is this really a fifteen-year-old kid?" he thought, surprised by the strength and flexibility of Kayne's movements.

Suddenly the second man, armed with a baseball bat, rushed at Kayne. He struck with all his might, aiming for his head. Kayne, with the utmost calm, blocked the blow with his forearm, feeling the sharp pain take over his limb. He took advantage of the opening to deliver a violent kick to the stomach of the second man, doubling him over in pain.

Before Kayne had time to catch his breath, the third man, larger and more imposing, who had been waiting for his moment, charged at him, brandishing his knife with murderous rage. Kayne tried to defend himself, but his opponent was much too fast and precise. The knife blade plunged into Kayne's belly, an excruciating pain coursing through his body. Despite it all, he did not give up. In the heat of the action, he grabbed the knife that he had pulled from his belly and plunged it into the temple of the man, who died instantly, with a stunned face. At this sight, the other two men, in bad shape, took fright and fled into the darkness.

Kayne collapsed to the ground, his blood spreading over the damp cobblestones. He lay there, his life slowly slipping away from his body. He suddenly felt lighter.

"Pathetic!" he thought. "Am I really going to die like this? Was I too arrogant?... Anyway, I suppose luck wasn't on my side this time."

Slowly, his vision darkened, and he plunged into nothingness. The sensation wasn't so unpleasant; he let himself be carried away like a leaf borne by the current. Suddenly he felt an inexplicable pain in his face; he was not at all light. He opened his eyes, and what he saw left him in shock.

He was not dead, and he was not in his hometown either, but the place seemed familiar. Someone then extended a hand to him, and as he looked up to see who this guy was, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The young man in front of him was none other than Draken.

A relentless flow of questions overwhelmed him. Where was he, had he really been reincarnated in his favorite manga, Tokyo Revengers?