During the war, illicit businesses and black markets would sell drugs and organs to make a profit, the Republic struggled financially for a period which led to the temporary pause on monthly salary. This was devastating to the public, they all had families to feed, and whatever was left of the currency for a while was soon scavenged and taken by small, illegal groups. The solution was simple, but disgusting, they would rummage abandoned battlefields and dig out fresh corpses, in which they would extract important organs and faecal matter used as fertilizer for agriculture. Food was scarce, and famine was becoming a very harsh reality for many places affected by poverty and aftermaths of battle.
Drugs were made normally, the faecal matter would accelerate the growth of the marijuana plant, and the leaves from coca plants were taken into considerable amounts, used for the production of cocaine. The gangs also had this common system where they would take guns left on the corpses of soldiers, as well as any valuable material, break it into parts or melt it into liquid metal, and sell it back to either the Rebellion or the Republic. One day, business came to an abrupt halt, money wasn't flowing and panic unfurled, dehydration was a big issue and one that had to be resolved quickly.
In the 'liberated' prefecture of Kyoto (at the time), the Financial Adviser came with the word of the President that all materials collected will be given exclusively to the Republic, they didn't blink at the fact that they were selling drugs and organs, especially since they were very well aware of the business that went down, the Financial Adviser, Masaru Takashi, went through each and every town in groups to speak to the black market owners and contenders, and place a man from the government in charge of collecting monthly funds from their profits, in exchange for the Republic illegally printing out money and giving it out to surrounding areas, including their own. This all happened discretely, as soon as the war ended, each and every one of the black market owners had disappeared without a word, as if taken off the map.
Within half a year, the Republic regained economical and financial stability, and had gained the upper hand on the war, tipping the scale ever so slowly, yet surely, to their own side. The drugs were burned by the unsuspecting police, who had taken the credit of tackling down the biggest drug conglomerate in the history of Japan, winning the public and giving the to-be Commissioner General fame. The customers who bought the illegal product, had no idea the Republic were the ones pulling the strings of the conglomerate to prosper in the war, and so there was no possible thought of protesting publicly.
In the Casino. Present day.
At the second bar of the casino, sat Lady Luck and the Financial Adviser, none drank, not yet. The tension was low, the atmosphere was friendly, and the jazz in the back elevated calmness in the room. Finally, Takashi ordered himself and the woman beside him a cold glass of Swedish Vodka, made purely from winter wheat, the taste left a sweet trail on your gullet. The Adviser rambled on and on about his boring adventures, making sure not to get drunk enough to spill classified information to the woman, after the end of each sentence, the girl would chuckle if he made a funny comment, smile in awe when the adviser had said something he seemed proud of, and occasionally respond so it didn't seem like a one-sided conversation, to show interest would be the short answer.
In the bank was a heavily drunk man, he reeked of harsh booze and had a bright red, feverish face. The man grabbed a glass and threw it at a bottle of gin at the bar well, shattering it and spilling fine beverage on the floor and on the bartender's shoe, people like this were sure to bring trouble. The man was clearly frustrated, probably lost one too many poker games and left the night penniless, he quite briskly stirred a commotion, several bodyguards, including the Financial Adviser who was rudely interrupted in the middle of his boastful monologue, escorted him out, luckily without an issue.
As soon as the Financial Adviser left, the blonde woman placed a powdery emetic agent in the man's cup of vodka, making sure to give a good stir to induce transparency and effectiveness. When the man came back, he continued his prideful speech, drinking the vodka sip by sip, completely unaware of what could happen. After half an hour, the Advisor felt a sharp pain in his stomach, you could tell because you would see a bitter facial expression for a split-second, he asked the woman to excuse him and headed off to the men's bathroom. Feeling clearly under the weather, the man took of handful of water and washed his face, before rushing straight to the cubicle in a fit of pain and vomiting in the toilet.
The man looked up, on the metallic tissue dispenser box, he saw the woman in plastic gloves, staring venomously into the back of his head. In the span of one second, the man's face was launched down into his own excrement and the toilet water. Distressed, he tried grasping the edge of the seat, and the woman's legs, but couldn't escape, he was drowning in his own filth, you could see countless bubbles form at the top of the clogged water, his oxygen was depleting and his lungs were giving out. His body's natural instinct was to inhale air, instead he inhaled the nasty water, and in a matter of seconds, the last bubbles popped. The man had died an excruciating, and prolonged death.
The woman took off her gloves and threw it in the trash can, washed her hands, and walked out without a soul detecting her. While Takashi drowned in his filth, the crowd drowned in their entertainment, and only after a full hour, was he found dead. The woman left, without a trace.
01:00 Sharp. In the Casino. 30 minutes before the attention of the death.
Standing in the middle of the room, was a man in a black mask, the mask covered every aspect of his face, nothing was seen except his hair. In front, was a door leading to the room of highest prestige, only those connected in the highest of places could enter. The man was commissioned there as a dealer, the private dealer for the Minister of Finance himself, Kaito Renji.
The man took his first steps towards the door, and opened it. Inside? The Minister, alone, and unbothered.
The man did not come here to play, he came for something much more precious, something that can be executed only by him, and he's doing it tonight.