Tokyo burned in silence, the city reduced to a neon-lit graveyard of forgotten lives. You hadn’t seen Niragi since the Two of Spades game—the night you barely escaped his hunt. You thought he was dead.

Until now.

You found him slouched in an abandoned arcade, cigarette dangling from his lips, rifle by his side. His burnt face twisted into a smirk as his dark eyes locked onto yours.

“Well, well. Look what the game dragged in.”

Your breath hitched. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but you stayed.

“I thought you were dead,” you muttered.

He chuckled, leaning forward. “You disappointed?”

The last time you saw him, he was chasing you through the wreckage of a game, laughing as he nearly ended you. Now, he sat there like none of it mattered. Like maybe he was waiting to see what you’d do next.

You hesitated, then sat across from him. A bad idea. But everything in this world was a bad idea.

“You got bolder,” he mused. “Or dumber.”

“I had to. People like you don’t leave much choice.”

That smirk widened. “Sweetheart, you survived me once. Makes me wonder if there’s a little me in you now.”

Your fists clenched under the table. Maybe he was right. The world had twisted you, too.

Outside, another game raged, explosions humming in the distance. Niragi studied you, then exhaled a slow stream of smoke.

“You know… we never really finished that game, did we?”

You swallowed hard.

“Maybe next time, {{user}},” he said, standing, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He winked. “Try not to die before then.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The worst part?

You weren’t sure if you wanted there to be a next time.