Hakata Tonkotsu Ramens Chapter 3 Part3

Top of Third Inning

He was sold with money. He was nine years old at the time.

Lin's family was poor. And additionally his father's debt that he acc.u.mulated from gambling placed a heavy burden onto their finances. It was difficult for his sick and frail mother to support her two children on her own. Even at a young age, Lin fully understood his family's helpless situation.

He knew a suspicious man frequently visited his household. The man was a buyer for the human trafficking business, and Lin had known he persistently tried to convince his mother to sell her children to him. Every day he tempted his exhausted mother. 'You can live easier if you let one of them go.' She stubbornly shook her head every time, trying to protect her children.

It was enough, he thought. He was fine with that. Seeing her doing that for them was enough. He was happy. It was because their mother loved them that much. So it was enough. He did not need anything more than that. So he thought.

Three days later Lin left home. He left in the middle of the night. Lin was pushed into a caged truck like cattle, and the vehicle the man was driving sped off. The vehicle kept going down the unpaved country road for half a day without a moment to rest. The b.u.mps in the road were rough, and he could not help but get car sick. He held a hand over his mouth to stop from throwing up numerous times. Lin shook from the cold and sickness for the whole evening.

When they arrived to their destination it was already morning. Lin was exhausted from the long trip. He stepped onto the ground as he staggered and looked up to the building. A concrete outer wall stood towering over in front of him.

'This facility was formerly a prison that was remodeled for use again.' The man had said. It certainly did look like a secure building. It was surrounded by a high barbed wire fence, so he could not see what was happening inside. He felt a terrifying sensation as though the moment he stepped inside he could never return.

'Although it is a factory what is made here are people like you.' The man laughed. 'This is a human factory. It's still an experiment, but they have decided to make weapons out of you boys this year. Starting today you will be taking special training in here for five years.'

Human factory, weapons out of boys, special training – the words he had trouble understanding fell one after the other out of the man's mouth.

'You will be studying how to kill someone. You'll become a great murder weapon and be bought out to an underground organization. And for some of you who'll become killers they will be others who'll become spies or military soldiers. And then there will be some who'll become terrorists.'

Lin was further dumbfounded by the man's next words.

'The day before yesterday a trainee died, so we were down one person. You were lucky. Otherwise you would have been cut up and have your organs sold, or you would have been sold somewhere to be some rich pedo.'

Men wearing a deep green uniform stood in front of the closed durable, steel gates. They must have been the gatekeepers. The seller sent some sort of message to them. The gatekeepers nodded and disappeared into the building. After a few moments the side gate opened. Another man appeared. He was wearing clothes military-like uniform – the same as the gatekeeper, but the colors were different. From his hat to the tips of his boots, he was completely wearing a pitch black.

Lin looked up at the man's face. There were shadows under his eyes. His cheeks were hollow and he looked sickly, but he was big and st.u.r.dy. He could not tell his age. He stood straight and proper, had fluidity to his gait, and had an excessively intimidating air to him. Just what kind of person was he? He was a mysterious, unsettling ent.i.ty.

The buyer called that man the instructor, and that man handed him stacks of bills. He received three times the thickness of the stack compared to what Lin received. 'Try your best out here,' the buyer said after he stuffed the money into his pocket and took off.

The instructor, after looking down and observing Lin closely, signaled the instruction to follow him with just a glance. Lin pa.s.sed through the gate after him. Inside the premises that was surrounded by its st.u.r.dy walls several buildings stood. They were all fairly old, deteriorating structures constructed of reinforced concrete. He could see corrosion and fissures on them too. There was a watchtower in the center, and he could see a man holding a rifle stationed up there. He looked like he was antic.i.p.ating any intruders or escapees.

Nevertheless, Lin felt intimidated from the depressing impression each of the buildings gave him. They had gray walls, black doors, and mudded gla.s.s. This is such an unsettling place, he thought. The moment he stepped foot into the premises of the place he felt a strange suffocating sensation. The air was tainted, and the whole inst.i.tution was covered in a gloomy atmosphere. And to make it even more eerie, the weather was terrible. Due to the exhaust fumes and yellow sand, the sky was cloudy. No matter which direction he turned towards there was just the outstretched scenery of a monochrome photo deprived of its colors.

'You must adhere to what I say here. Is that understood?'

The instructor spoke. He continued on with that voice lacking intonation, as though it had lost all emotion in it.

'Don't place any trust in others. You can only trust yourself. That will be your lesson at this facility – no, it will be a lifelong lesson. Remember it.'

He said in a low yet audible voice.

Lin followed behind the instructor, lightly jogging up to him, as he pressed onward. Eventually they arrived to a certain location. There were two guards posted at the entrance, looking bored.

'First cell building' was written on the door. When the metal doors were opened there was a jail. Iron barred doors were lined up facing each other in the narrow hallway. There were children around the same age as him locked up in each of the isolated cells. They glanced over to them from their cages with fearful and weary expressions. None of them had any life to their visage. This place felt like a gathering of war prisoners. Will I end up like them someday? Like a living corpse who has lost any goal in life.

'You will constantly work in a group of two here. The person you will be sharing a room with will be your partner. You both will have joint liability for everything you do. You will work together, help each other out, and devote yourselves in training together.'

Although Lin felt an oddity to the instructor's statement, he nodded.

'This is your room.' The instructor stopped right in front of the furthest cell. He opened the door and jerked his chin. 'Enter.'

Lin stepped inside the cell as instructed.

'Put these on.' What was handed to him were plain sportswear he thought were prisoners clothes. Once he took them the iron bars clanked shut. The instructor left without further explanation.

The cell had a simple layout. There was an uncomfortable-looking bed and a toilet. It had small, iron barred windows, and in the center of the s.p.a.ce it had a thick part.i.tion.

'Hey there, newcomer!'

A red-haired boy poked his head from the other side of the part.i.tion. The other side of the part.i.tion also had the same arrangements. It seemed the wall between the two isolated cells was broken in half, making it a two-person room.

'I'm Feilang. Nice to meet you.'

His roommate gave him a bright toothy grin. He had short red hair and had slanted eyes but a charming face.

Lin gave him his name and shook his hand. 'Ah, um……nice to meet you.'

'Thank goodness you're here. I was helpless on my own.'

He was an easygoing boy. Even though he was in this gloomy place, let alone locked into a cell, he had an awfully cheerful expression. Lin did not sense any sign of resignation, despair or pessimism like the other boys he saw earlier from him. He was unsure whether he fully comprehended the situation he was left in or if he just had an optimistic personality in nature.

The boy prompted Lin standing there idly, 'go on, sit.' Lin did as he was told and sat down on the hard bed. After Feilang sat down cross-legged he lowered his voice and said. 'The truth is the guy I shared a room with committed suicide.'

'Eh.' Lin unconsciously raised his voice.

'Shh,' Feilang pressed his index finger to his lips and chided to him. He then told him, 'he hung himself.' He then pointed to the latticed window installed between them. 'When I woke up in the morning, he was just hanging there.'

Now that he mentioned it, the buyer had brought up that one of the trainees died, leaving a vacant position. He did not expect the reason he was brought here was because of a suicide. Someone had died in this room. And a child about the same age as him, no less. Now having that thought placed in his head, he felt worse.

'He probably couldn't handle with the training here. He retired two weeks in.'

Just what sort of severe training was it that a suicide victim came from it? He trembled imagining it. His anxiety only heightened.

'Let's try our best for these next five years, partner.'

As though to blow away his suffocating feelings, Feilang gave him a wide smile.

Partner – that's right. I'm not alone. The instructor had said so. That they would work together, help each other out, and train together. Lin felt a little bit better hearing that.

Although he was the same age as him, Feilang talked like a grownup. Living here, he would inevitably grow into an adult earlier than necessary, as well. Just when he was about to ask him what kind of training they would have at this facility, there was the clamorous ringing of bells. It was like a siren going off to warn of a state of emergency. Surprised, Lin looked up at Feilang's face. He was calm. It appeared this was a normal occurrence.

'That's the signal that we're starting.' He told him.

The metal bars unlocked and opened automatically.

'Let's hurry up.' Feilang jerked his chin. 'We'll get beat if we're late.'

The room Feilang brought him to had desks and seats set up inside it – it appeared to be a cla.s.sroom. All the desks were worn out from use, and they had a number written on the right hand side. Two desks were pushed together, making for ten groups in total. The twenty trainees all took a seat at their designated spots. Their seat was apparently arranged beforehand as Feilang told Lin, 'our seats are here,' and sat down next to him.

Their morning started with a lecture. They primarily studied languages. For five hours they sit packed inside the cla.s.sroom learning various languages of other countries. There was a subst.i.tution in lecturers per language. There were many trainees who came from a poor upbringing, and some could not even read their native language. There were even some kids from Indonesia and the Philippines.

After they finished their j.a.panese course they would have break. Their lunch was bland and lightly seasoned. It was enough to fill their stomachs, but he could not say it was very tasty. Just as he was finis.h.i.+ng up his food the bell rang again. Feilang told him it was the signal that break was over.

In the afternoon they all gathered outside. In the center of the field their instructor waited for them. The first part of their noon lesson started off with a marathon. They had to both work together and keep running; they could not stop at any costs. Any pairs who stop running would receive punishment. That was what their instructor commanded. The trainees a.s.sembled into two lines and started to run the outer perimeters of the field as instructed.

At first everyone ran at the same pace, but the lines started to break up after thirty minutes pa.s.sed. Among them someone tripped over themselves and fell face down onto the ground. It looked like he twisted his ankle. He was unable to stand up. Another boy immediately ran up to him and tried to lend him his shoulder, but the boy with the twisted ankle could not get up. He sunk down where he was and burst into tears.

'Don't cry.'

At some point, the instructor had snuck up behind them.

'Don't show your tears the enemy. Showing your tears is an act of weakness.'

The instructor held a whip in his hand. And with that black rod he struck the boy relentlessly. He also hit the boy's partner next to him; both of them collapse onto the ground.

'Wha- what the……'

It was a vicious scene. Lin muttered that, dumbfounded as he ran. Feilang grimaced beside him. 'Listen, just keep running. We'll be hit too otherwise.'

'But-'

'That's just how they do things here.'

The other pairs were not in the position to worry over anyone else right now. Lin's legs were also near their limit. His body was heavy. His movements had weakened as though he was being held down by chains, and he felt restricted. It was hard to breathe. He felt sick.

Eventually he stopped. He was unable to move himself even a little and he collapsed were he was.

'Hey, you alright?'

Feilang also stopped and peeked over at Lin's face.

'Don't stop.'

He heard the instructor's voice.

The next moment a shard pain ran up his back.

'O-ow.' Lin gave a small cry and grimaced. He knew right away that he was. .h.i.t with the whip. That hurt. This b.a.s.t.a.r.d. What the h.e.l.l did he do that for? He looked up at the instructor and glared.

'What's with that look?' The instructor sent back a cold glare.

Lin grit his teeth and made a fist. This man is looking down at us. The man looked down at them, believing the children could not do anything against him. Lin wanted to make him pay.

'You want to strike back at me? Just try.' The instructor glanced at Feilang. 'He'll get the same treatment then if you do.'

Joint liability – the instructor's words pa.s.sed his mind. If he put up a resistance right now, then he would get Feilang into trouble too. They would be beaten up like the previous kids.

Lin unclenched his fist while biting into his lip.

'I'm sorry, instructor.' Feilang bowed his head next to him. He then sat down in front of Lin. 'Here, get on. I'll carry you.'

'Eh, but-'

'Hurry and get on.' He half-forcibly put Lin on his back. 'At this rate we'll both be punished.'

There were other boys lending their shoulder to their partner or pulled them by the arm among them. They were supporting each other to continue running. That was what the instructor had told them to do. They just had to keep running through any means. Feilang's method was correct. He continued running quietly while carrying Lin on his back. And any groups who stopped during that time were beat mercilessly by the instructor's whip.

'……I thought I was going to die.'

Lin dragged himself back to the cell and collapsed onto the bed. His whole body felt like lead. His abused legs were both burning in pain.

'How could you call this training? This is just torture. ……d.a.m.n that instructor. I wanted to punch him so bad.'

After he complained about that Feilang chuckled. 'Stop that. If they hear you, you'll get in trouble.'

'……Say, Feilang.' Lin rose up. He leaned over and told him in a small voice. 'Sorry for today. ……You really saved me. Thank you.'

'Don't worry about it.' Feilang laughed.

'Still, you're quite amazing Feilang……I mean, you're doing alright although you've been running all that time and even carried me.'

In contrast to Lin who was thoroughly exhausted, Feilang was lively. Lin admired that.

'Give it two weeks and you'll get strong.' Feilang rolled up his sleeve and showed him his biceps. 'The very beginning is really tough, but you'll get used to it soon enough.'

Although to catch up on the two weeks Lin missed would be rather difficult.

'Will I get used to it?'

He could not imagine himself running for hours on end without losing his breath after just two weeks.

'Well, more than that.' Feilang changed the topic. 'Why are you here?'

'That's……'

Since he would be his partner here he supposed there was no issue letting him know. Lin decided to be honest with him. 'I needed money.'

Lin made a deal with the buyer. He had no regrets over it. When he told the man to take him he readily agreed. In exchange he gave him a large sum of money.

'My family is poor and with my father's debt we couldn't survive. So I came here in exchange for money. I lied to my mom and told her I'm leaving home for work.'

His mother did not press for details. He told her he was going to work in the city. He told her he would help someone he knew and work at a j.a.panese factory and live there. She was against it, but Lin's resolve did not waver. He wanted to help his mother even if it meant selling himself. He was set on it.

'I see……Seems you had it rough at your place too then.'

Lin asked back. 'How about you?'

'I was sold by my parents.' His usual cheerful voice faltered. He casted down his eyes and continued. 'My mother was a prost.i.tute. At first they had me held up to bring in clients, but a guy couldn't bring in potential regular clients and it costed them money for me.'

'That's-'

He could not believe it. That a parent would sell their own child.

'But I'm glad I came here.'

Feilang gave him a carefree smile. He was not acting strong; he truly believed that. That was the expression he had.

'The training is tough, but we get food and we're sheltered from the cold. This is much better than my life back then. So I'll endure the training no matter how severe it'll be. I don't have an upstanding reason like you where you have your family or mother. I'm going to survive this for myself. I'll use any means necessary. That's what I think right now.'

He said it in an encouraging tone. Lin could see he was telling the truth in his eyes. He had not given up or grieved, he was looking ahead of him. Lin felt jealous of his strength.

Just then the bell suddenly rang and the fluorescent lights in the cell turned off.

'What……?'

'Ahh, it's time to sleep.'

Apparently that was the signal to let them know it was ten o'clock at night.

'Just cover yourself with the blanket and close your eyes. The guards will be coming around. If they see we're awake we'll be put into the punishment cell.'

Lin was able to see his smiling face even in the darkness.

'Just go to sleep and rest up. So that way you won't have to be carried tomorrow.' Feilang moved back towards his bed. Lin heard his voice from the other side of the part.i.tion. 'Alright then, good night.'

'Good night. Feilang.'

Lin also curled up onto the bed and closed his eyes. They would wake up early at six in the morning. They then were going to study from seven until noon. After that they would have lunch, and then they would have endurance training by running a marathon or have an intense muscle training exercise. He was already dreading tomorrow. It would be great if tomorrow did not come.

Somehow he could not sleep. He was strangely wide awake. He opened his eyes. At some point the lighting in the hallway and even the emergency lights turned off, and pitch dark blackness surrounded him. He could not see anything. There was only the dark to greet him.

I want to go home, he accidentally thought.

Why am I being faint-hearted about this now? Didn't I choose this? It's alright. Five years will be done and over with before I know it. I'll meet my family soon. He could only tell himself that in rea.s.surance.

I want to see mom. I'm lonely. I'm fine. It's hard. I want to get away. Contradicting emotions welled up inside him.

Lin held the photo of his family he secretly brought with him and closed his eyes again.

Bottom of Third Inning

The intense rays of the scorching sun shone brightly down onto the ground field on this day in late July. They were running in lines of two on the hot sand. Sweat was forming under the deep blue under s.h.i.+rt Lin wore. It was hot. It was a particularly brutal heat for the midsummer. When the sunlight was blocked slightly Lin would adjust the baseball hat on his head.

Now thinking about it, I did the same thing back then. He suddenly recalled. That's right. I got in a line like this and did nothing but run.

The Ramens had practice once a week. They would go out on a Sunday and rent out a baseball field for four or five hours. Fundamentally everyone was free whether to come or not, and as such it was rare for all the members to meet up. Today's partic.i.p.ants were six people including their coach. There was Lin, Banba, Enokida, s.h.i.+gematsu, and Martinez.

When they finished their running exercise they had stretches next. After they rehydrated themselves they all met up at the benches near the first base side and made a small circle.

"……Wonder if it's my age." s.h.i.+gematsu muttered. He was breathing harder. He had both hands on his knees and took deep breaths in repet.i.tion. "It's been tough for me just to run for a little bit."

"Must be your age." Enokida gave him an unserved reply back.

s.h.i.+gematsu glanced over to Lin, and seeing his calm expression he smiled. "As expected, you young people are much more fit for this."

"……Not really."

This much is nothing. Especially compared to what I had to do back then. Compared to that h.e.l.l where I had to run continuously for two to three hours on end.

He recalled his training during his childhood. He was put through more than just marathons, he had to undergo various other trainings as well. Among them he had to do even long throw exercises. At the time he was dubious how being able to throw far would help him, but because of it he now was able to defend the shortstop and could throw the ball from the third base to first base without taking a step, so strangely enough it did end up helping him after all.

He finished his stretches including rotating his shoulders, neck and wrists and started practicing. He first began with batting.

I've improved quite a bit, Lin thought to himself. He originally started off just missing the ball when he swung, but now he was able to hit it. He even started to comprehend the more intricate rules of baseball as well. He understood the meanings of the terms 'bunt' and 'squeeze' now. And the amount of times he missed securing a ball that should have been easy to hit had lessened. More importantly, the number of times Banba got mad at him have decreased.

Their coach Genzo would always think up what they should do for practice every time. He would consider the number of people present and the weather to easily adapt for the session. After bunt practicing, they would do toss batting. Then they would move onto fungo, hitting drills, and base running practice.

Today we did quite a number of drills. Lin once again recalled his life as a trainee. He got distracted by the seething heat and ended up thinking of unpleasant memories.

It was not just Lin who was losing focus. With so few present their turns came around more often, making their practice harder. And under the blazing sun the Tonkotsu Nine moved more slow than usual. They tripped over their feet when trying to catch a ball they could usually follow. And they were blinded by the sun and missed the easy fly b.a.l.l.s. Everyone went through their drinks fast as well. All of them were covered in sweat.

Just as they finished up with fungo, they ended up taking a break. Everyone retreated to take shelter in the shade at the benches.

"d.a.m.n it's hot……I feel like I could get heatstroke." Martinez grimaced and gulped down his two liter plastic bottle. Lin took a seat on the benches as well and wiped himself down with a towel.

"I reckon' we should teach Lin our team's signs now."

Genzo brought up.

"Signs?"

"They're called block signs. For example, this." Banba spoke up and showed him a pattern. His right hand gripped his left elbow, and then moved to touch the trim of his hat, his belt, his right ear, and finally his wrist in succession. "That just now was a sign to steal a base."

"……That's difficult. I can't remember that."

The movements were too fast, and he barely managed to catch them with his eyes.

"Once ya remember the key, it's simple." Genzo said.

"Key?"

"Our team's key is the belt. What ever spot you touch next is the real sign; all the others are fake. So if I touch my ear after my belt, it's a sign to steal base. If I touch my hat it's a bunt."

"I see……" He was not entirely sure if he got it or not.

"Then, what's this?" Genzo moved his right hand. He touched his hat, wrist, chest, ear, belt, hat, and then his wrist.

"…………A bunt?"

Genzo grinned at his unconfident answer. "Correct."

"And when anyone touches their chest after their belt it's an end run." Enokida added in.

"……What's an end run?"

"You don't know an end run?" Banba's eyes widened.

Enokida explained while drawing an image on the ground with a wooden stick he had picked up. "It means a hit-and-run. When we want a runner on first to run to next base, the runner takes off the same time the ball is pitched. The batter has to hit the ball no matter what. Even if it's a very apparent pitch, at the very least they have to hit it and have it roll. Even if they hit a grounder to the infield, there is a high possibility the runner can avoid a double-play as soon as they start running. If the batter manages a good hit, the runner can make it from first all the way to third. Got it?"

"Well, one way or another……"

"There is the risk of a double play if the ball is. .h.i.t towards the runner and they can't run back to base." s.h.i.+gematsu told him.

"How 'bout we test it out. Lin you'll be the runner. At first base, got it?"

Lin would probably learn it faster in practice. He did as Genzo instructed him to and headed to first base. Banba took up the position as the pitcher, and Enokida entered the batter's box.

"When should I run?"

"The same time as he pitches it. When Banba moves you gotta run."

Genzo made the sign in front of the benches. Hat, ears, belt, chest, hat – it was the sign for an end line.

Banba threw the ball. Lin took off, racing towards second base. However, Enokida had missed.

"Shoot."

Lin immediately went back to first base.

"Hey, hold it! Dontcha run back!" Genzo yelled.

"But he missed!" Lin pointed to the mushroom-head man at the batter's box.

"Once I give the sign you gotta run even if he misses. Dontcha worry 'bout the batter or else you'll be late."

Stand back and watch, Genzo told him and took over his place as runner on first. Lin took his place at shortstop. Banba made his pitch, Genzo took off, and Enokida hit the ball. It was a grounder for the shortstop. By the time the ball was caught Genzo was already in the sliding motion. Even if he tossed to the second baseman there was not a safe amount of time to get him out. Lin threw the ball back to first base.

"What the h.e.l.l was that slide……I didn't think an old man like you could pull that off."

"He still has it."

Martinez and Banba marveled at the swift move Genzo made as though his age did not affect him.

"That just now was an end line. You got it?" Genzo asked him while knocking off the dirt from his practice uniform.

"Yeah, I got it."

The runner was able to make it to the next base due to the set up. So there's this sort of strategy too, he acknowledged. However, there was one thing that bothered him. "……But if the batter doesn't make a hit, then isn't it possible to get three strikes with a double-play?"

There could be the worst result where the batter misses with three strikes and the runner gets an out.

"When that happens there's no helpin' it." Banba answered him. "That's part of baseball too."

"……Baseball sure is difficult."

It was difficult and complicated. Lin had thought baseball was a sport where you just needed to hit the ball far away. In reality, they had to be on the defense side and run around a lot; it was bothersome.

"When you get the sign for an end line, you gotta place trust in your comrades and run. Believe that they will hit it."

Trust in your comrades, huh.

He mused over Banba's words in his mind.

Don't place trust in others. You can only trust yourself. That will be your lesson at this facility – no, it will be a lifelong lesson. Someone had told me that long ago, he recalled unwillingly. I wonder why. For some reason, I keep remembering the past today.

Saruwatari had finished his job and headed to the usual bar at dawn. It was in Konya City, at a corner in the northern Kokura Ward in Kitakyushu. He walked down the quiet street. There were no pa.s.serby around, and the restaurants and brothels lining the street were closed and had their shutters down. Although the late night drinkers had gone home and it was the time most people were sleeping, the darts bar Lady Madonna was still open.

After he entered and glanced at the ostentatious, female owner, she pointed to the center door with her index finger that was polished bright red. Saruwatari opened the door with the warning sign 'authorized personnel only' on it, and made his way down the stairs until he arrived at the floor designated for hitmen. An intimidating Venezuelan bartender was waiting for him. Saruwatari ordered a cola. There were no other customers around. Alongside one wall three human dummies were strung up. That area was the s.p.a.ce for target practice. Saruwatari aimed for the one in the center and threw four-sided shuriken at it. No matter how many he threw, he could not get the shuriken to land as he wanted them to. He felt frustration build up.

I'm not good enough. I can't beat that man like this.

Sweat stained the hem of his tank top. For right now, he needed to train.

After he continued with practicing his pitches he heard a familiar voice.

"How about you stop that already. You're overdoing it."

When he turned around Nitta was waving at him from a booth. Just when the h.e.l.l did he get here? He scowled. He might have been too focused on what he was doing and had not realized his presence.

Saruwatari stopped practicing and took a seat facing Nitta.

"Sarucchi, did you change your form a little?"

"……No, not really." He gave a short reply and placed the bottle of flat cola to his lips. "So, what's the deal?"

"How did killing Kubota go?"

Kubota was a name of one of the Kakyuu Group's executives. Lau had acknowledged Saruwatari's strength and immediately sent over another job. The target was Kubota. He apparently lived in a single home in Munakata City, and a few hours ago Saruwatari headed over to Kubota's house. However,

"……The target wasn't there."

Kubota was nowhere to be found. His car was gone as well. He must have known his life was in danger and left on short notice. Then where was he hiding?

"No one was there?"

"The target anyway."

He could not say the house was completely empty. Someone was waiting for Saruwatari in Kubota's living room. He was a man wearing a black suit and gla.s.ses with his front hair parted to the side. He appeared to be a serious company employee. When the man spotted Saruwatari he attacked him. Naturally Saruwatari made a counterattack though.

"I see." Nitta groaned. "So he realized his life was being targeted and hired a killer to stand in for him."

Kubota would not return to his home at present. There was a high possibility he concealed himself with other executives of the Kakyuu Group. They could not accomplish the job if they did not know their target's location.

Saruwatari stifled a yawn, bored. "Ahhh, so boring."

Suzuki had the executives, Li included, move to hotels and holiday homes. Naturally only the people themselves know of each location. Then they contacted Murder Inc. and hired five to six hitmen. They stationed one killer in each of the executive's homes, awaiting for the trap to be sprung. And at last they had something. There apparently was a killer who infiltrated the executive Kubota's home. When they rushed over there in the morning they found the traces of a struggle and the cut up body of the Murder Inc. employee.

"……Dammit, he was killed."

Looking at the dead body lying heavily against the sofa, Suzuki made a small tutt.

"Shall we look at the footage from the hidden cameras?"

Suzuki nodded at his subordinates suggestion. They connected the camera they set up in advance to the television and played the footage. What they saw on there was a familiar man. He wore a hoodie and had a black kerchief covering his mouth.

"This man-"

Suzuki could not see his face, but he knew: it was him. He stared at the screen as though engrossing himself into the image. On the screen the man was looking around the room. The killer from Murder Inc. held up a gun behind him and pulled the trigger. The man must have felt the killing intent as he turned around at once. The same time the gun went off, he dodged the bullet with the motions of an acrobat.

'You're not Kubota, are you?' He had an intimidating tone to his voice. He threw shuriken he pulled out from somewhere with a unique form. He missed his target though. However, he pulled out his ninja sword while the other man went to dodge. It was one moment. The man closed the gap without any fear of the gun he had. He swung down the sword swiftly. After he robbed the other's means of attack by severing the arm holding the hand gun, he then rotated his body so he could stab the man in the side of his neck. In just a matter of seconds the man had defeated the killer.

'……I'm still lacking."

The man picked up the shuriken and whispered that to himself. The next moment, he disappeared from the screen. Nevertheless, Suzuki was shocked. What incredibly strength. He's different from the local professionals. Suzuki swallowed. He watched the footage wordlessly for a few minutes. He returned to himself and turned off the television before making a call to Li. He picked up right away. 'Is it more bad news?'

"Yes. There doesn't seem to be any mistake that the one who killed Unoyama and Kim was this. .h.i.tman."

'……Is that so?'

"And one more thing." Suzuki told him with a mix of a sigh. "Regarding the hitman next to you, they may not be of much use against him."

He had one of the employees they hired from Murder Inc. follow Li as a guard. However, it was futile. From what he could tell from the footage, none of the men they hired could lift a finger against that man.

After he told him the whole event from beginning to end, Li also made a sigh. 'This puts us in a difficult position.'

"I will make contact with a mediator and search for a skilled killer." Suzuki declared, but he was unsure if that was possible. It would be impossible to easily find a killer more skilled than that man. They needed someone rumored to be in the top cla.s.s of f.u.kuoka in terms of strength. Someone who could go up against him-

A certain killer suddenly came to mind: the Niwaka Samurai – the strongest killer of killers in f.u.kuoka. If it was him, he could possibly be able to defeat that man. However, the Niwaka Samurai was a wanted man by the organization. If he sought for a.s.sistance from that man, the executives would not remain quiet over it with their pride in question.

Suzuki's one wish was cut off from him. It was impossible. There were no killers in this country that could keep that man in check.

……Then how about someone outside of the country?

Translation Notes:

Feilang is the spelling provided in roman characters in the ill.u.s.tration of this novel, and I find that more concrete than the spelling the subbers provided in the anime adaptation. Any other Chinese names I double checked and researched the most likely spelling for.

And as always, thank you to Voissane for volunteering to be editor and helping out as always.