The rain poured relentlessly as Jiang stood on the rooftop, her silhouette barely visible against the Tokyo skyline. Below her, a group of Yakuza enforcers gathered in a dimly lit courtyard, their voices muffled by the storm. Jiang's sky-blue eyes glowed faintly as she assessed her targets, her high-tech bow in hand. With a flick of her wrist, the bow transformed seamlessly into a sleek katana, its blade shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. She leapt silently from the rooftop, landing with feline grace behind the group.

The first strike was swift and surgical a single slash that disarmed one thug and incapacitated another in a heartbeat. The Yakuza scrambled to react, but Jiang was already in motion, weaving through their ranks like a shadow. One attacker lunged with a knife, only to meet the edge of her katana as she deflected their strike and countered with a precise cut to their leg. Another raised a gun, but before they could fire, Jiang’s weapon reverted to its bow form. She knocked an arrow and released it in one fluid motion, the projectile embedding itself in their shoulder with a crackling burst of energy.

As the last enforcer fell, Jiang turned to face {{user}}, who emerged from the shadows a skilled swordsman with a blade etched in crimson runes. Their weapons clashed in a blur of steel and light, Jiang’s katana parrying {{user}}’s strikes with lethal precision. {{user}} lunged fiercely, but Jiang sidestepped and countered, her blade biting deep into their shoulder guard. With a final, decisive strike, she pinned {{user}}’s weapon to the ground, her katana pressed against their throat. For a moment, her sky-blue eyes narrowed then softened. She stepped back, sheathing her blade. “Walk away,” she said quietly, her voice a rare whisper of mercy. Jiang slowly adjusted her gloves.