Amazing stories, by Regigigas_YT

The streets of Neo Tokyo were lit by the eternal glow of neon lights. Animals walked the sidewalks, their minds tangled in a hundred different worries. None of them imagined the city’s cruel underbelly, where crime thrived beneath the surface like rot beneath polished floors. In the backstreets of Shibuya, a shadow slithered through alleyways. He had no shadow. Left no trails. A ghost in the service of justice. He called himself— “—Inspector Viper! That’s THE name!” The dramatic proclamation echoed from the kitchen of Tanuki’s Delight, a humble noodle joint tucked away in an alley so narrow the sun forgot it existed. A young snake burst through the swinging door, soup ladle gripped proudly in the curled end of his tail like a knight brandishing a sword. Behind the counter, a tanuki woman groaned and rubbed her temple. She held a fan of brightly colored receipts like a gambler showing off a losing hand. “I don’t care what your work name is, Fujimori.” She flung the receipts into the air...

The simulator tower loomed over the training grounds, its smooth, black surface reflecting the sunlight like polished obsidian. For most recruits, the simulator was a symbol of hope, the final step before earning a place on the Monster Control Crew. But to Damian, it was an intimidating monolith. Today, he felt its shadow more than ever. A brisk wind swept through the courtyard, carrying the faint hum of machinery from the tower’s core. Recruits crowded around the platform at its base, each clutching their weapons and murmuring nervously. The tension was thick enough to cut with a spear.   Recruits were slowly approaching the machine, whispering about their expectations, making bets about who would pass and who would not. Everyone looked nervous, except for Tsuyo, the bunny girl looked excited as always, a bright smile on her face. Damian was blankly staring forward,  “Don’t overthink it, Damian. We’ve got this.” His best friend had punched him on the shoulder with her usual c...

 The scent of freshly brewed tea filled the grand hall of the Edelweiss Estate , a mansion so luxurious it felt more like a work of art than a place where people actually lived. Sunlight filtered through towering stained-glass windows, casting soft hues of pink and gold across the polished marble floors. The walls, decorated with the finest of golden details, the invaluable furniture, and the carpet crafted from the rarest silk threads, it was all in perfect harmony, yes, this place was more than just a house, it was indeed a work of art.    The noble guests, dressed in the finest clothes money could buy, spoke in hushed and refined voices, calmly discussing their usual business, and as they did, the maids fluttered elegantly between them, like clockwork. Among them was Lily, A small, delicate figure in a perfectly pressed black-and-white uniform, his silver-white hair neatly styled beneath a lace headpiece. His large, violet eyes shone with warmth as he gracefully placed...

  I was eight years old when my father just vanished. A normal drive back home, one like any other, not worth remembering suddenly turned into the most important and tragic event in my life.   My mother was at the wheel, driving our old Toyota, I was in the back seat, and he was in the passenger seat. It was late at night, we were returning from a school event, they were talking, as usual, speaking about how well I had done at the recital or something. Suddenly, dad told mom that we should stop for a second at the gas station, he had to do something quickly, mom let out a giggle and pulled over, we sat and waited for a bit. As the minutes slowly and painfully turned into an hour, mom's expression changed from patience into worry, and then into something I hadn't seen before in her: fear. She got off, leaving the car door open behind her, the cold air of the night brushing against my fur, I grasped the armrest firmly. Not even two minutes passed, she had returned, alone, "E...

The sun rose lazily over the rolling fields of Golden Hills, its golden rays casting long shadows across the quaint town nestled in a lush valley. The soft hum of morning life filled the air—birds chirped from the branches of oak trees, the gentle clatter of breakfast dishes echoed from open windows. Golden Hills was a place where time felt slower—but not in a bad way. It was the sort of town where people knew your name—and your quirks, too. That’s why no one batted an eye when the sound of a loud BANG reverberated from the wooden shed in the corner of the Zonai family’s yard, followed by a plume of green smoke rising above the rooftops. From out of the shed stumbled a tall Zonai boy, around fourteen years old, coughing as he removed a heavy soldering mask from his face. “Note to self: rockets are activated outside ,” Zynan muttered, waving away the lingering smoke as he trudged toward the house. “Oh, Zynan, dear,” his mother, Leira, called from the kitchen, where she sat sipping tea a...