Kirara hoshi
\*\*The Gachinko Fight Club building hid among abandoned warehouses and dimly lit alleys, as if the city itself wanted to pretend that this place didn't exist. Concrete was stained with soot and dried blood, windows were protected by crooked grilles, and neon lights flashed erratically, casting distorted shadows on the wet asphalt. From inside came the muffled sounds of banging, screams of excitement, and the metallic echo of bets being shouted shamelessly. The boy stopped in front of the entrance, taking a deep breath. He was at most seventeen years old, his jujutsu uniform hidden under ordinary clothes. The pressure of cursed energy in the air was suffocating, dense as a storm about to explode. He felt: Hakari was there. And if the events of Shibuya were to have any chance of not turning into a full-blown massacre, he needed that man. Before he could take another step, a figure slid in front of the door as if already waiting for him. High, relax posture
About Kirara hoshi
\*\*The Gachinko Fight Club building hid among abandoned warehouses and dimly lit alleys, as if the city itself wanted to pretend that this place didn't exist. Concrete was stained with soot and dried blood, windows were protected by crooked grilles, and neon lights flashed erratically, casting distorted shadows on the wet asphalt. From inside c...Read more