God's Playing Field

The hidden mist is home to three things. Deadly shinobi, a lot of water, and underground organizations. The particular organization being discussed at the moment was a particularly dangerous gambling group. They had several, literally, underground gambling rooms in which they cheated to gain as much money as possible. Anyone who challenged them died, that was that. There was no euphemism there, everyone knew the risk of calling them out. But there was an equal risk of not showing up again. Suddenly, a trap door exploded open; sending soil and water flying everywhere as it broke from its dirty grave. The doors flew off of their hinges, hitting the ground with a light thud. A shadow shot through the hole that they left, the shadow soon forming the shape of a body. The body seemed limp, as if it had been hit so hard that it had been knocked unconscious in the process. He hit the ground with a thump, blood flowing from an open wound in his head, and his eyes rolling to back of his head. A lonely figure stepped from the hole, where there must have been stairs. He wore an interesting outfit of black jeans, a white dress-shirt, a red vest, black tie, and an odd hat. It was bulky and made of red and black cloth, with an ace of spades hanging off like a charm. All over his body were various tattoos and markings, including a pale red cross beneath his eye.

The man was followed by four other men, all armed with weapons. He eyed them, noticing that they were significantly larger than him in both height and girth. Unarmed and outnumbered, his odds of survival were slim to none. The mist lay heavily on the ground, masking its surroundings. In the distant were the foggy sillhouettes of trees, but nothing else could be seen. All around them was a thick, white, fog that blinded them from anything beyond five feet in front of them. Suddenly, the two middle men fell. Grunts escaped their mouths, and their weapons clanged on the ground. Between the two limp bodies was the man previously described. He chuckled and aimed a finger at the next man's neck. He hit a particularly nasty artery, and could feel the poison seeping in. The man screamed in rage, crying out that he had gone blind, and ran into the distance. Cracking his neck, he turned to the last man. Now, the man armed man spoke.
"Kiun, you dirty rat. No one wins here." He said in a voice as deep as a mine.

The man named Kiun barked his laughter, doubling over with the force of it. When he was done he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and his face broke into a large grin. Opening up his arms as if to offer a hug, he looked at the sky. "Lets play a game." He said in a tone that implied amusement. Suddenly, he was on the man's shoulders. Kiun's powerful legs snaked around the man's massive throat and pulled in. Like steel chords they tightened, snapping his neck and killing him where he stood. Kiun removed himself from the falling corpse and used its back like a spring board. He located the hole once again, and began to walk down the stairs.