Shiroko Robber Novels & Stories

AMARA POV Boots thundered across the deck. The calm shattered in an instant. Men poured in from every direction like a flood, dark figures, raised weapons, cold metal glinting under the flashing red lights. Guns clicked into position, barrels aimed straight at us. I froze. My fingers tightened around his hand without thinking. My body shook so badly my teeth rattled, breath coming out in short, painful gasps. Then he stepped forward. Roberto. He emerged slowly, almost lazily, dragging a man by the collar. A gun was pressed to the side of the man’s head. The victim’s hands trembled, mouth opening as if to beg,

The man whose shadow had loomed over me for weeks. “His name is Botan Kuroda,” Mikako continued, her tone hardening. “He has a criminal record—assault, stalking, and harassment. He was also in a… relationship with Akira before his death.” I sucked in a sharp breath, my vision blurring. “Akira,” I whispered. “Haru?” Jiro’s voice broke through my shock, his grip on my hand tightening. I could only shake my head, my mind spinning.

shouted Tikhon. The guard went outside, and the next moment Michelangelo entered the house while dragging Yoshiro with him. Tikhon’s eyes widened when he saw the bloody face of Yoshiro. His eyes were black and swollen. His lips had cuts, and blood was clotted near them. His cheeks had cuts, and blood was slowly dripping from them and was on the verge of coagulation. He had never seen someone so battered.

He knew how to outsmart his father more than the man thought. That wasn't the problem that he needed to face in the present, though. The biggest problem was trying to get the lump of muscles that had somehow found him out of his apartment. Shiro walked out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his hair and putting on a robe. He wished he had brought more clothes with him at the moment. Wearing something so thin and small didn't seem like it was the best thing to talk to someone in. Especially when that someone was his mate that he was supposed to mark long before it even got to this point.

He had a buzz cut that amplified his stern and stoic expression; his presence felt sharp and strong. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand as he looked at Wesley. Without saying anything, he waved at his men behind him. The man with the bleeding head, whose white karate uniform was stained with blood, came out and bowed at the young man. He then pointed at Wesley and said grudgingly, “Jiro, these are the bastard Arcadians who beat me up! This guy even smashed a bottle on my head! He even insulted our people!” Jiro Sakamoto, the man in the black uniform, drained the cup of whiskey with a cock of his head and then scoffed. “Interesting. I didn’t expect us Ryokanians to be bullied at Bronze Spa

A few hundred strong men in black shirts came out from the cars while carrying swords from the Island Nations. In just an instant, those men had already surrounded the entire villa. A tall man in a black suit leading the crowd walked up with a cold expression on his face. “Harvey York! I am Taichi Maruyama of the Shindan Way! “I heard that you took my junior, Noriko Yamaguchi, as hostage! “I’ll give you one minute to release her immediately! “If not, I’ll level this place to the ground and rip you to shreds!” Obviously, the Shindan Way had no fear to do as they pleased in the wilderness.

He just looked down at his shoes. "Look, I buy alcohol from here sometimes, mainly when the guys need some for a party." I looked at him, surprised. "And that works? No one IDs you?" He tucked his hands into his front pockets, shrugging helplessly. "I have my ways." I smiled, waiting for him to share those ways. "I go up to a register which looks like a cute girl is working at, flirt with her a little bit, get her number and then I magically have alcohol."

He saw the warriors that were on duty that night before he shifted to his human form before walking into the crime scene. "What happened?" he asked them before they were filling him in. He was hearing the explanation before he saw the man that was being attacked by the rogues. There hasn't been a sighting of the rogues on Paphos as far as he knew and this one might be one of them. "Step aside," Sebastian, acting as the doctor for the pack, was trying to get to the injured man. It was a young man around his early 20s as Arthur was coming up behind Sebastian to look at the situation better.

The time was now 1:14pm and she could make out some movement at the glass door which opened as two huge Japanese men in black suits walked out, followed by another of average height behind them. She moved her sniper slowly to the right as the men made their way across the parking lot to their black sedan. Looking through the scope of the magnified glass attached to her weapon, she held her breath as the chest of one of her target’s bodyguards appeared on the crisscross mark, which was immediately followed by the bald head of the yakuza boss.

Yuriko let out an exasperated hiss and shouted: “Enough jabberin’! No one ain’t goin’ tah fall fer yer warrior-o’-peace act.” She flung two of her throwing knives, eliciting a gasp from Aki. In an eye’s blink, Koumori-shishou moved his shakujō staff up and over his shoulder, reaching down to scratch his back with its rings. The timing was flawless because Yuriko’s knives buried themselves in the wood. The pirates stood with their mouths agape. “Thank you for the hand, my dear, but I can scratch my own back.”