city streets slowly bathed in early sunlight, Zarek sat in his sleek black car, finishing a minor transaction. His phone buzzed, displaying a message from Kaeliano in their secret group chat. He glanced at the screen, raising an eyebrow.
>"Zarek, wherever you are… I will find you. You better show up and give a full account, or I'll go too deep. You know what that means."
Zarek exhaled slowly, staring out the car window. "Kaeliano… always causing trouble," he murmured, eyes sharp, scanning the streets. He knew his friend was not joking.
Meanwhile, Kaeliano had already arrived at a notoriously corrupt police office. Several officers were sprawled across the floor, visibly shaken. Kaeliano's gaze swept the room, calm yet commanding, and he leveled his pistol at them.
"Listen carefully," he said, his tone cold but precise. "Give me the name of the man behind all of this, or I report you to headquarters… and yes, I can start shooting right now."
A trembling officer stammered, "O-okay… his name… it's… Viktor Corvane."
Suddenly, the office door burst open. A senior police commander entered, clearly shocked. "What's going on here?!"
Kaeliano's eyes met his steadily. Without warning, he fired a shot into the wall beside the commander; dust and plaster flew.
The commander stumbled back, panicked. "Wh-who are you?!"
Kaeliano smirked mischievously. "The name? Viktor Corvane. But before I leave…" He tapped the handcuffs on his own wrist and swiftly cuffed the commander. "Now you're coming with me… or figure out the rest yourself."
With calm yet intimidating steps, Kaeliano left the corrupt police office, the commander handcuffed behind him. Distant sirens echoed through the streets, but Kaeliano remained composed.
He swung onto his sport bike, the engine roaring lightly. A thin smile curved his lips.
"Hungry… but this is way more fun than breakfast," he muttered, disappearing into the city streets.
Kaeliano started his motorbike and left the corrupt police station behind. The city was slowly coming to life, but he remained calm, scanning every corner of the street. His goal was clear: to contact the one friend who could help him crack the big code.
He pulled out his phone and typed quickly:
> Kaeliano: "Eryndal, we need to meet. Now."
It didn't take long for a reply to appear:
> Eryndal: "Where? And don't try to hide from me, Kael. I saw what you did in the group chat."
Kaeliano smirked slightly, but his eyes stayed focused. "I'm not playing. This is serious. I need to talk in person."
A few minutes later, Kaeliano arrived at a hidden café, the place Eryndal usually used for hacking. Dim lights illuminated the cluttered room, cables snaking across every corner, and the low hum of computers filled the air.
Eryndal stood up, half serious, half irritated. "So this is what your message in the group meant? Turning off your phone and disappearing like that? Do you think we weren't worried?"
Kaeliano sat across from him, calm. "I had to move fast. Viktor Corvane is too dangerous. If I wait for coordination… everything could spiral out of control."
Eryndal leaned forward, eyes locked on Kaeliano. "You know, I can hack almost any system, but if you don't give me clear context, it's useless. And don't think I didn't see your chat… you deliberately made everyone panic."
Kaeliano exhaled, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. "I know. But right now, you're the only one who can help. The data from that flash drive is too massive. I need your analysis, and I need you to trace their money flows and networks."
Eryndal nodded slowly. "Okay… but you promise, Kael, no more disappearing acts. This isn't just about operations—it's about friendship."
Kaeliano stared at his friend for a long moment. A faint smirk appeared again. "Promise. But this isn't just about friendship… this is about life and death."
In the dimly lit café, Eryndal's laptop glowed, filled with lines of code, money flow charts, and maps of the international network. Kaeliano sat beside him, occasionally pointing at specific sections on the screen.
Eryndal's fingers danced over the keyboard. "Alright, the money flow mostly goes into the U.S., and some to Asia… look here—drug and weapon routes connect to Zarek, but the mastermind is still Viktor Corvane."
Kaeliano nodded, eyes focused, expression calm but sharp. "So Zarek is just a pawn for now. We can use that."
After hours of analyzing the data, Eryndal leaned back, exhaling deeply. "Done… everything's mapped out. But Kael… you need to be careful. Viktor isn't just any ordinary mafia."
Kaeliano gave a slow nod, still staring at the screen.
Eryndal let out a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Oh, by the way… Raven and I were planning a little surprise. We wanted you to help… Zarek's birthday is today, but with everything happening… well, it got complicated."
Kaeliano looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Heh… you're still thinking about that?"
"Yeah, even though I've been busy at the hospital lately. Your uncle has been there a lot too. But… we can't forget old friends, right?" Eryndal patted Kaeliano lightly on the shoulder.
Kaeliano's lips curved into a faint smile. "Alright… but focus comes first. This isn't over yet."
Eryndal closed the laptop for now. "Yeah, yeah… I've got to get back to the hospital. Night shift. You should head home, Kael… be ready for Viktor tomorrow."
Kaeliano stood, hands slipping into his black jacket pockets. "Fine… but remember, I'm still a mischievous kid, don't forget that."
Eryndal chuckled softly. "Yeah, a genius little brat. Go home… and don't make me panic again, okay?"
Kaeliano started his sports bike, leaving the café behind. The night was dark, but the old bond between friends lingered—proof that even amid criminal storms and international intrigue, some things never fade: loyalty, trust, and friendship.
In a dark office lined with polished mahogany, the warm light of a hanging lamp cast long shadows across the room. The faint scent of incense mixed with the sharp aroma of expensive perfume. Hiroto Akazami stood straight, dressed in a sleek black suit, his eyes focused on the man seated before him: Yakuza Boss Kenjiro Takahashi.
Kenjiro sat in a large chair, hands folded, his expression serious as he regarded Hiroto. Silence filled the room, broken only by the slow ticking of a wall clock.
"Boss… I request permission to go to America," Hiroto said, bowing slightly. "There is an urgent matter that requires my presence there."
Kenjiro raised an eyebrow, his voice low and measured. "America? You know that distance isn't just about thousands of miles. Over there, you'll face a different world… the FBI, international gangs, and networks far more dangerous than anything you've encountered in Japan."
Hiroto remained calm, inclining his head slightly. "I understand, Boss. But this is critical. This mission… it involves an international network that also threatens our circles."
Kenjiro studied him for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. "Very well. You may go… but remember, Hiroto. In America, you are not just a Yakuza representative. You are part of this family, and our name depends on your actions. Do not make a mistake."
Hiroto nodded firmly. "I will not disappoint you, Boss. I will ensure this mission is completed successfully, and our family's name remains untarnished."
Kenjiro placed a firm hand on Hiroto's shoulder, a sign of approval. "Go… but remember, not all enemies there are visible."
Hiroto bowed respectfully, then turned and left the room with measured, purposeful steps. Outside, the streets of Tokyo bustled with life, but in Hiroto's mind, his focus was already fully on America—the place where all the conflicts of his old friends, Kaeliano, Zarek, and the mysterious Viktor Corvane, were about to converge.