Kny Yoriichi Novels & Stories

The man was leaning on the couch with his legs crossed, naturally becoming the center of the crowd. Harvey York squinted at the man. His beauty and gentleness had a sense of unspeakable gloom and viciousness. After all, the youngest and most outstanding onmyoji of the Tsuchimikado family would not be an ordinary man. While walking around the box, Kairi Patel shifted her gaze toward someone before showing an odd expression. “Why is Aldo John also here?

I swat his hand away, clasp the bottle, and place it in front of me under the table so he doesn't have access to it. Even though he’s sitting still, his eyes are shifty and agitated. I’m ready to bet it’s because of whatever seed Pharaoah planted in his head back at the house. The door slides open again; this time, it's not the waitress. Kai walks in, followed by an old, short man who wears a pressed suit. Abe Hitori. The leader of the Yakuza branch in New York. Pharaoah and I stand in greeting, but Pakstan remains planted in place. He also uses the chance of my standing up to grab the bottle of vodka.

If they had overpowered Kiran, it would be one thing, but the spectacle of a dozen Sunland ninjas unable to even touch him was downright embarrassing. "Stop!" At that moment, Nakamura stepped forward and shouted. "Hai!" Responding immediately, Ono and the other ninjas halted and stepped back, sweating and eyeing Kiran with a mix of anger and confusion, unable to comprehend the level of his skills. Kiran gently set Rain down from his embrace and landed gracefully from the air. "Who are you?" Nakamura asked, looking intently at Kiran. "Kiran York," he replied. "Kiran York?" Nakamura's expression shifted slightly; he was familiar with the name.