Chapter 342: Causing Trouble |
By the time Hoshino Gen withdrew his finger, the contorted young man had completely lost all signs of life.
Sifting through the memories he had just extracted via Soul Reading, Hoshino Gen looked thoughtful as he turned and walked toward Shimizu Yu.
He dismissed his long black coat and waved a hand to dispel the barrier protecting Shimizu Yu. Glancing at the girl, who was still slumped on the ground with red-rimmed eyes and a terribly wronged expression, he spoke calmly. "What are you still sitting there for? Let's go."
Shimizu Yu pouted, a hint of tears lingering in her voice. "You scared me to death..."
"..." After a brief pause, Hoshino Gen scoffed disdainfully. "At least in Japan, no one can kill me."
With that, he reached out a hand to her. Once she placed her palm in his, he gave a gentle pull and hoisted the girl to her feet. "He was a member of an illegal supernatural syndicate from the criminal underworld. They usually do dirty work for major societal figures—taking money to eliminate problems. Someone wants you dead, but this guy didn't know who the client was."
Despite the shocking nature of this revelation, Shimizu Yu's expression barely changed. Her face had been deathly pale from the very beginning and still had not regained any color. She merely lowered her head, completely at a loss for what to do.
Her family background was highly unusual. The major societal figures capable of doing business with such a supernatural syndicate could very well include her own parents. Furthermore, based solely on her father's identity, he had every right to mobilize the official supernatural agency, the Special Affairs Group, to protect his daughter the moment she faced a threat from supernatural criminals.
However, Shimizu Yu had been sheltered far too well. Growing up wrapped in a world of beauty and kindness meant that when confronted with a situation like this, she panicked and lost her wits completely.
His body began to levitate, carrying Shimizu Yu up along with him. "Protecting the personal safety of my subordinates can be considered my obligation as your boss. I won't charge you a commission fee for this one."
With that said, he carried the deeply conflicted Shimizu Yu across the sky, streaking like a meteor toward the address he had just ripped from the assassin's memories—Yokohama.
...
The name Kirakai carried immense weight in the Tokyo underworld; if not universally feared, it was at least notoriously famous.
Their reputation was not born from having a massive number of members, nor did it stem from the vastness of their territory or their connections in the underworld.
Even ordinary yakuza syndicates only knew that the Kirakai was a formidable force. They did not know the exact nature of that power, nor did they even know the location of their headquarters.
Only those who possessed enough status to truly know about the Kirakai understood just how terrifying that group of lunatics could be.
As long as you could afford their price, they would kill anyone for you. More than just a few high-ranking officials, wealthy magnates, and political heavyweights had met their ends at their hands. Despite operating so brazenly and cultivating such a bloody reputation, they still had not been wiped out by official supernatural agencies. Instead, they continued to conduct business openly with many elite figures.
This alone was enough to demonstrate the sheer scale of their influence and the terrifying depth of their power.
—They were an evil so potent that they could, to some extent, walk freely in the sunlight.
The headquarters of the Kirakai was not actually hidden away in some highly secret location. Countless ordinary people walked right past their front door every day, completely unaware of what lay inside.
On this late summer, early autumn evening, Yokohama remained a city where tranquility and uproar coexisted. The tranquility lay on the city's surface—the mundane, peaceful daily lives of its ordinary citizens. The uproar belonged to the surging undercurrents hidden deep within its shadows.
Japan was the only country in the world that officially recognized the yakuza, and Yokohama was undeniably one of the cities where this underworld culture flourished the most.
Due to well-known historical reasons, the public security in certain parts of this country was still jointly managed by both the police and the yakuza. A few years ago, there was even a bizarre incident where a police station invited a prominent yakuza boss to serve as their honorary chief for a day.
Even today, when it seemed to the public that yakuza culture was in steep decline—with some syndicates even forced to pivot to selling bubble tea just to survive—the undeniable truth remained: they had never truly disappeared.
Yoshida-cho, a notorious lawless district in Yokohama, was bustling as usual. Amidst the grime and the glaring, multicolored neon lights, fierce low-level yakuza thugs glared fiercely at one another. Anyone bold enough to open a storefront here without formidable backing would likely be forced to shut down in under three days.
There was only one exception: a bar whose storefront was so impeccably clean that it looked completely out of place on the grimy street. This wasn't because it lacked a powerful backer, but rather because no one knew who that backer was—or if one even existed. All they knew was that anyone foolish enough to cause trouble inside never walked out on their own two feet.
Their rules were strict, yet very simple. First, only paying members were allowed inside. Second, absolutely no fighting was permitted on the premises. As for the third...
"My apologies to you both, but we do not serve minors."
A young boy and girl, both dressed in exquisite private academy uniforms, were stopped by the attendant at the bar's entrance.
The pair was incredibly attractive, their pristine uniforms a stark contrast to the filthy streets around them. The boy, in particular, had a faint smile playing on his lips, and his striking heterochromatic eyes gleamed with a mysterious allure that practically begged to be deciphered.
The girl was equally stunning. If she introduced herself as an idol, no one would doubt her for a second. Her aura and gaze were as clear as pristine water, giving her the ethereal presence of a lotus blooming untouched amidst the muck of this sleazy district.
—Except for the fact that she had one school bag slung over her shoulder while awkwardly clutching another that clearly didn't belong to her, which made her look rather endearing and naive.
If average students had been turned away for being minors, most would have quickly spun around and left. These two, however, stood their ground.
The girl remained completely silent, keeping her slender legs pinned together beneath her pleated uniform skirt as she stood obediently behind the boy.
The boy offered a polite and gentle smile. "Thank you for the warning, but I don't require your service. I'm here to cause trouble. I heard one of your rules is no fighting in the bar. I'm just curious to see what happens when someone breaks it."
The uniformed attendant stared blankly at him, seemingly unable to process what this wealthy young master—who looked like he had merely taken a wrong turn—had just said.
But his shock quickly faded, his eyes narrowing as his expression shifted into something cold and menacing. "Kid, you better understand exactly who stands behind me. This isn't one of those places where you can use your family background and money to throw your weight around."
The smile on Hoshino Gen's face didn't falter. "My apologies, but when I throw my weight around, I never rely on wealth or family."
He let out a light chuckle. "For the sake of your initial warning, I'll give you a piece of advice: don't block my way."
With that, he stepped forward and moved toward the doors. Without another word, the attendant reached out to grab Hoshino Gen's shoulder. However, a split second before his fingers made contact, he suddenly lost all sensation in his hand.
The attendant's eyes widened in sheer terror. His entire body locked up, completely paralyzed. It wasn't until Hoshino Gen, along with a shrinking and exceedingly cautious Shimizu Yu, stepped past him into the building that a thin, bloody line materialized across his wrist. With a wet thud, his entire severed hand fell to the ground.