Page 76 of The Dragon 2
Hiro signaled the Claws.
Hand flick.
Two quick taps to his wrist.
The Claws adjusted formation—not enough to alarm the guests, but enough to make it clear: we weren’t just attending this opera.
We were commanding it and would kill.
I watched my brother for a moment. There was no tension in his shoulders. No rush in his breathing. Just calm and controlled.
That told me that he was more than ready to unleash violence.
And I knew—like I always knew—that while I could break a room with a look,Hirocould dismantle it without moving.
This was why I always kept him close.
Not just because of blood or love.
Not even because of our unbreakable loyalty.
But because in a world built on performance, Hiro was the one man who always knew where the exits were and who to shoot first.
Hiro frowned. “Female assassins, but no Butcher. What is this?”
“He is making us wait.” Reo’s tone was casual but eyes sharp. “He must’ve heard about the Lion’s visit to Tokyo.”
I didn’t respond.
Reo continued, “He’s probably expecting us to do something bold. Unhinged. Perhaps, he thinks we came here to hurt him.”
“We may.” Hiro scanned the space and signaled the Claws again.
A single shift of his wrist, two fingers tapped the pulse point once, then slid across his chest—kill-switch ready, masks off.
The Claws responded immediately.
Kaede was the first to move. He neared the woman in the gold dress by the second column. His real eye never left her hand; his glass one reflected the chandelier.
When he spoke to her, I was sure it was polite.
Shocked, she tilted her head, but her stance stiffened—not from interest.
From awareness.
She could surely feel that Kaede didn’t come for conversation. He came to measure the exact length of her breath before he cut it short.
I checked the second leader.
Just like that, Daisuke appeared behind the woman in the off-shoulder black gown.
She blinked.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t need to.
His mohawk caught the light as his shoulder brushed hers, making her blink again.
