He walks the path where silence grows, where secrets drift and no one knows. His blade is drawn, yet never shakes. He cuts through lies, not just the fakes. Once robed in gold, a lord with pride, they struck him down — but he survived. He cast off rank, refused the crown, and vowed to walk, not bow back down. No hurried step, no shouted name, yet all who wronged him feel the flame. His kimono flows, his eyes don’t stray, for justice walks — it does not sway. He speaks no threat, he makes no call, but one by one, the wicked fall. A ghost? A judge? No soul can say… just Kaidou. He came. They paid.