The motorcycle engines grew distant, but Tatsuya's mind was already racing ahead. He had to cut through the noise, to find out who had set the trap. Who had played them all. The realization of his folly stung—his pride had been used against them, and the cost was higher than he'd ever allowed.
Back at the safehouse, the Tovas were in uproar. The main room, usually a place of relaxed debriefs, was crackling with nervous energy. Akari's eyes desperately scanned the crowded space, but Renjiro was nowhere to be found.
"Where's Ren?" she demanded, her voice tight with fear, cutting through the anxious chatter.
The room fell silent for a beat. It was Riku, his broad frame leaning against a support beam, who answered, his voice a low rumble. "He never made it to the extraction point. We thought he was with you."
Before Akari could respond, Tatsuya emerged from the shadows of the hallway, his expression unreadable. "He's gone rogue. He's alive, but he's playing his own game now."
A fresh wave of shock silenced the thirteen thieves. Akari felt a strange mix of relief and a deeper, colder betrayal. "What do you mean, his own game? What game are any of us playing, Tatsuya?"
Tatsuya held out a USB drive. "This is the copy of the documents I took from the decoy vault. Ren's right; the mission was a setup. But not by me." He let the words hang in the air, his gaze sweeping over each of them. "The original Tovas, the first seven—they're behind this. They wanted to test our loyalty, to see if we're worthy of their legacy."
The silence shattered.
"The founders?" Sora whispered from her perch on a crate, her usually gentle face pale. "That's impossible. They're legends. Ghosts."
"Ghosts with a very real interest in us, it seems," Haruki muttered, running a hand through his hair. The warm, artistic young man looked utterly unnerved, as if a foundational piece of his world had just crumbled.
Yūto, ever the mediator, stepped forward, his tone cautious. "Tatsuya, that's a massive claim. What proof do we have besides your word?"
"The proof is in the pattern," Tatsuya countered, his voice weary. "The complexity of the trap, the specific countermeasures... it's their signature. They're watching us."
Akari stepped forward, the USB in her hand feeling like a bomb. "What are you saying, Tatsuya? That you sent us into a suicide mission on a hunch?"
"You sent us," Riku corrected, his kind voice now hard with accusation. He pushed off the beam, his solid presence suddenly feeling like a threat in the confined space. "You gave the order. You called the play."
"The suspension eraser," Kiyoshi said softly. The elegant thief had been silently observing, but now his serene composure was fractured by dawning horror. "A high-risk gambit from the old stories. You had them execute a suspension eraser."
Tatsuya didn't look at them, his focus on the laptop he was booting up. "You had to face the truth. We're more than just thieves. We're part of something greater. A legacy we have to prove ourselves worthy of."
"Worthy?" Akari's anger was a white-hot flame. "Ren's heart stopped for ninety seconds because of your test! Is that what makes us worthy? Nearly getting our people killed?"
From the corner, the youngest member, Mei, let out a small, choked gasp. "He... he died?"
"He's alive, Mei," Sora said gently, putting a
reassuring arm around the girl's shoulders, though her own hands were shaking.
Tatsuya finally looked up, his eyes glinting in the low light. "Survival is insane, Akari. The suspension eraser is a tactic that has kept the Tovas alive for generations. It's a crucible. It showed us who could truly be trusted. Who was willing to sacrifice for the greater good."
He stood, pacing the room as the ghosts of his past filled the space. "Back when there were just seven of us, we lost two of our own to their own greed. They didn't just die; they betrayed us. They brought the wrath of our enemies down on us because they failed the test." His eyes, cold and ancient, settled on Akari. "The original Tovas had you go in first because they wanted to see if you could survive. If you could adapt. If you were more than just talented kids."
He took the USB from her numb hand and inserted it into the laptop. The screen flickered to life with encrypted files. "But it seems I've also underestimated our forebears. They didn't just want a show. They wanted to see if we could survive the worst. And if we couldn't... then we're not the ones they need."
Yūto spoke again, his voice quieter now, the fight gone out of it. "And what now? Now that we've passed this twisted test?"
Tatsuya's fingers flew across the keyboard, hacking into encrypted servers. "Now," he said, the screen's light carving sharp angles into his face, "we find the real documents. We outsmart the ones who set us up. We follow the breadcrumbs they've left us."
He swiveled the laptop around, showing a set of encrypted blueprints and data streams. "They're expecting us to be predictable. To play by their rules. But we won't. We'll be smarter."
The room buzzed with a newfound, grim urgency. Akari took a seat beside him, her eyes glued to the frenetic display. The other Tovas crowded in closer—Riku with his arms crossed, a deep frown on his face; Sora and Mei peering over shoulders; Haruki already sketching potential routes on a notepad; Kiyoshi analyzing the architectural patterns on the screen; and Yūto coordinating the flow of information.
The safehouse was no longer just a hiding place. It was a war room. And for the first time, all thirteen thieves understood they were at war with the very ghosts they had once idolized.
The air in the safehouse was thick with tension, a stark contrast to the soft, ambient glow of Umi no Sakana, a high-end sushi bar across the city.
At a quiet table, two figures seemed utterly engrossed in their meal. The man, Kaito 4th rank of the Tovas, methodically dipped a piece of amberjack into ponzu sauce. The woman, Riku, her rank, sipped her green tea, her eyes scanning the room over the rim of the cup.
"See it?" Kaito murmured, not moving his lips, his voice a low hum barely audible over the gentle shamisen music.
"Finally," Riku replied, setting her cup down with a quiet click. "Third seat at the bar. The man in the grey suit. He's been reading the same page of his financial times for twenty-seven minutes."
Their target wasn't the man. It was his briefcase. A sleek, matte-black alloy case handcuffed to his wrist. But that wasn't what held their attention.
"It's the skin," Kaito said, his eyes narrowing. "On the left thumb, just below the knuckle. The texture is wrong. It's like wax."
Riku gave a barely perceptible nod. "Clone skin. A clivv hang."
The term was Tova slang for a specific flaw in high-end biosynthetic grafts—a barely visible "hanging" or slight puckering at the edge where the cloned skin met the real thing. It was the mark of someone who needed a perfect disguise but couldn't afford the absolute best. Or someone who had to change their appearance in a hurry.
"He's not one of the founders," Riku whispered, a flicker of disappointment in her voice. "He's a messenger. A cut-out."
Kaito's phone vibrated silently on the table. A single, encrypted message from Tatsuya lit up the screen, summarizing the safehouse revelation: First Seven testing us. Ren rogue. Find their trail.
Kaito showed the screen to Riku under the table. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before her professional mask slid back into place.
"This changes nothing and everything," Kaito said, deleting the message. "The founders are the architects, but this," he subtly gestured with his chin toward the man at the bar, "is the first brick. Their pawn."
The man in the grey suit finally moved, signaling for the check. He was getting ready to leave.
"He's our only lead to the people who set the trap," Riku said, her voice dropping even lower, charged with new purpose. "The people who forced Tatsuya's hand. The ones who almost got Ren killed."
Kaito placed a stack of yen on the table, far more than enough to cover their bill. "Then let's not keep the messenger waiting. The founders are watching us? Good. Let's give them a show."
Their pleasant dinner facade vanished, replaced by a predatory focus. The cozy restaurant suddenly felt like a hunting ground. As the target stood and walked toward the exit, Kaito and Riku moved in seamless, silent unison, two shadows falling into step behind their prey.
The game had just expanded, and the next move was theirs.