Ryū sat in his high-backed chair, a deep frown etched on his face, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against his crossed leg. His silenced pistol was aimed precisely at the double doors. Two minutes. They were exactly two minutes late.
The doors burst open. Bang, bang! He fired, two precise shots, and the first man crumpled without a sound. The second gasped, falling heavily. The remaining members, all high-ranking Kuro-Kyoufu, froze, then bowed instantly, the air thick with palpable fear.
"You kept me waiting for two minutes," Ryū's voice was a low, dangerous rumble, each word a command. "It's only fair I take out two men. Consider yourselves lucky it wasn't more than two minutes. Now, get seated and summon the cleaners to dispose of these bodies before they start smelling."
The surviving top members scrambled into their chairs, careful not to make a sound that might provoke him further. One immediately picked up a satellite phone, barking hurried orders for cleanup. Ryū sighed, his gaze, sharp as a blade, settling on Kenma. "The message came from you, Kenma. You assured me this meeting was important. Why?"
Kenma sprang to his feet, bowing quickly, his voice tight with urgency. "Sir, a rival mafia gang is attempting to claim the top spot in the world's underworld."
Ryū leaned back, a hand lazily brushing his ear, his disinterest almost a taunt. "So what? It wouldn't be the first time. If this mafia is truly formidable, send one member of the Rokushin, accompanied by six hundred fighters. That should be sufficient."
"No, sir, it's not like other mafias we've dealt with," Kenma insisted, his gaze flickering. "Do you remember Kuro Ryū-kai?"
Ryū's brow furrowed in confusion. "You mean the half of Kuro-Kyoufu that broke away to form their own gang to rival us? What do they have to do with this? They haven't been active, or 'out for blood,' for the past six years."
"Their leader recently died," Kenma stated, his voice barely a whisper.
Ryū's frown deepened, but not from concern. "Shit. That guy owes me money."
Kenma quickly clarified, his words rushing now. "Let me rephrase that, sir. He was killed by Jigoku Akagi."
Ryū merely rolled his eyes, a mask of profound boredom. "Is this why you called me here? I thought I had warned you to never waste my time unless it's truly, unequivocally important."
"It is important!" Nagumo, another top member, interjected, cutting off Kenma. He stood as Kenma quickly sat down, bowing his head. "With all due respect, sir, Jigoku is a madman. He possesses what I'd describe as level-ten psychopathic madness, and that makes him incredibly dangerous. Furthermore, he was the former leader of Sunset, one of the biggest Yakuza groups, and now he commands Kuro Ryū-kai. Sunset's forces would be included in their numbers, giving them a combined total of fifteen thousand members."
A flicker of genuine shock finally crossed Ryū's face as the true stakes became brutally clear. His usual nonchalance vanished, replaced by a grim realization.
Nagumo continued, pressing his advantage. "They have taken out sixty of our members in America, eight hundred in England, and now they are all here in Tokyo, intent on taking you down by force. This will ignite a mafia war that will end with either all of us dead, or all of them. This is why we called you, sir—to devise a strategy to avoid complete annihilation."
Ryū was lost in thought, the weight of the information pressing down on him. After a long, heavy silence, he finally asked, his voice low, "How do you know Kuro Ryū-kai is responsible for all these deaths?"
"Because every time it happens, they leave a card with a dragon symbol," Nagumo answered, his voice firm. "Their symbol."
Meanwhile, at Tanaka's Restaurant, at the register area, the three men's jackets clearly displayed the same stylized dragon symbol Nagumo talked about. Sato's palms grew slick with sweat. What is the world's top two gang doing here? Do they want my head? I have to think fast. I've got this.
He put on his most desperate, bizarre act, a desperate attempt to appear harmless. "H-hi... beep, beep! I'm a robot! I do not understand human communication!" He tried to move his arms stiffly, like a malfunctioning automaton.
One of the men smirked, a dangerous glint in his eye. "If that's the case, then we'd be doing everyone a favor by destroying you, wouldn't we?" The three men chuckled, a dark, low sound that sent shivers down Sato's spine.
Sato dropped the robot act instantly, bowing repeatedly, his voice a frantic plea. "It was just a business joke! Please, it won't happen again!"
The men looked at him in confusion, momentarily taken aback by his frantic apology.
"Hey, Sato, do you know why I can see all our customers heading out in fear through the window...?" Sato's mom's voice drifted from the back, cutting off as she entered the dining area. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as she stared at the three Kuro Ryū-kai gang members. They, in turn, stared back at her with chilling grins.
Knowing any wrong move could be their end, Sato spoke quickly, before any of the three could articulate a threat. "So, please, can I take your order? We have sushi rolls, rice balls, and meat with sauce. I'd actually prefer you order it with tea, as our sauce might be... suspicious!" He forced a laugh, a loud, solitary sound that echoed oddly in the now-empty restaurant. The laughter died in his throat when he realized he was the only one.
"Did I mention the food is free?" Sato added quickly, his voice a desperate, last-ditch effort.
The three men's eyes widened in surprise, then their smiles spread, broader and more chilling. "Now that's the spirit!" one of them boomed. "Been waiting for you to say that! So, then, give us one of everything you said. Each!" They found seats, waiting expectantly for their meal.
Sato practically flew from the register to his mom. "That was close! Who knows what they could have done!" his mother whispered, her face still pale.
"It's rare to see a mafia member out in the open like this, especially Kuro Ryū-kai," Sato explained, dishing out food onto plates. "And these guys aren't even bothered about being seen. Plus, they didn't come to cause a scene, so that means these are amateurs, not really core members of the group. We were lucky to be dealing with them, but just in case, we absolutely must not trouble them." He looked at his mom. "You can go to sleep, Mom. I'll lock up after they're gone. Don't worry about me."
His mom nodded, a worried glance still on the dining area. "Take care of yourself. And if this doesn't go well, we have a gun under the register table, just in case. You can always use it if necessary."
"Hey! We're waiting for our food here!" one of the three men yelled from the dining area.
Sato quickly served them, then retreated to a quiet corner, trying to appear nonchalant while he pretended to eat. Minutes passed, the men finished their food, looking completely satisfied. They stood up to leave, totally ignoring Sato, who was practically a shadow against the wall.
As soon as they were out the door, Sato quickly flipped the "Open" sign to "Closed" and locked the door with trembling hands. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, then left the restaurant through the back, arriving at his home.
His mom met him at the door, her face etched with worry. "What took you so long? I was starting to get worried."
Sato looked up at her, exhaustion pulling at his features. "It's nothing. They're gone now. But that doesn't mean they'll be gone forever. Plus, I hardly think we'll be getting many customers since Yakuza were spotted in our restaurant."
His mom smiled, kissing his forehead. "Don't you worry about that. I've got it covered. Just take this." She handed Sato his full early pay. "You earned it. Now go rest."
Sato smiled faintly, heading up to his room and collapsing onto his bed, too tired to even fully freshen up. The chaotic scene at the restaurant raced through his mind. To distract himself, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through videos. He saw one uploaded weeks ago, featuring Kuroda Hikari, daughter of Ryū Kuroda, being questioned.
"I don't really have anything planned lately," Hikari said in the video, her voice bright and unburdened, "but I am trying to find love, so I really hope that works well and Dad doesn't intervene or anything like that. Like, I deserve to love! You men don't have to shit your pants or run away anytime you see me!"
Sato watched with sleepy eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Love, huh?" he mumbled, his voice thick with fatigue. "I guess that's a thing special people do." He finally shut his eyes, falling asleep, his phone slipping from his grasp. The video was paused, Hikari's determined face filling the screen, as Sato slept nearby.
Meanwhile, in a desolate basement soaked with fuel, Jigoku Akagi sat perched on a large boulder, a chilling grin stretching his lips. He stared down at the three men who had ventured into Tanaka's restaurant. They were begging for their lives.
"You bastards," Jigoku hissed, his voice dangerously soft, yet resonating with absolute fury. "You walked around in your coat on an open street. That is a big blow to our name. We are Yakuza, and you're trying to turn us into some motorcycle gang? You went out, but you didn't get back money, beat up rival gangs, or strike fear! You just went out to eat! How shameful!"
One of them, trembling, managed to speak. "I'm really sorry, sir! We were just hungry and we wanted to eat, that's it! Please forgive me!"
Jigoku's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You used our name to buy yourself lunch. The rumors are spreading. Other Yakuza and mafias outside of Japan are laughing at us. One instance like this cannot stand. We came to Tokyo to defeat the number one mafia gang, not to eat! So you must be punished. I'll burn your jacket."
The three men laughed in relief, a desperate, choked sound. "Oh, thank God! That's it? I thought you might—"
Thwack! Jigoku's hand moved like lightning, a small dagger flashing. It found its mark mid-sentence, silencing the speaker instantly.
"Don't interrupt me again," Jigoku said, his voice calm, yet radiating pure menace. "Now, where was I? Oh yes. I'm going to burn your jacket... and you along with it." He lit a lighter, the flame dancing malevolently, and dropped it onto the fuel-soaked floor.
The basement exploded in a rush of roaring fire. The remaining two men screamed, their cries quickly swallowed by the inferno. Fire consumed the body of the third as he lay lifeless. Jigoku's insane laughter echoed through the blazing room.
The basement door opened, and his right-hand man, Kageyama, rushed in. "Sir, the fireproof coat you're wearing won't last much longer! We have to go!"
Jigoku's laughter cut off abruptly. He rose, his silhouette framed by the inferno, and strode towards Kageyama. "So, has Ryū responded to our challenge yet? Or is he going to be a son of a bitch and force me to take his daughter hostage as well?"
Kageyama explained that Ryū should respond anytime soon, but in the meantime, they needed to press their attacks. He knew some places where they could find members of Kuro-Kyoufu to target.
Jigoku's grin returned, wider than before, a chilling promise. "Goooooood." He walked out with Kageyama, leaving the blazing basement behind.
The Next Day