Saburo Arasaka remained standing, while Yorinobu Arasaka made no move to rise.
A suffocating tension swelled from the shadows, pressing down both inside the hollow pillar and across the hall where father and son faced each other.
The silence was terrifying...
The frail old man took a slow step forward. His eyelids, heavy with age, lifted just enough for his gaze to sweep the room.
At last, his eyes settled on his son. His voice was ancient, yet cold as if it had crawled straight out of hell.
"You thought... I wouldn't notice... that something of mine was gone?"
He spoke in their native tongue—unintelligible to Arthur.
Inside the pillar, Arthur shot V a helpless glance.
"The neural link should have a translation function. Check it..." V whispered, keeping her voice as low as possible while gesturing toward him.
Arthur gave a slight nod, turning his attention back to the scene outside.
...
"I don't give a damn... what you think." Yorinobu's voice carried a thread of anger as he stared at the liquor bottle on the coffee table, struggling to look calm.
"Maybe I've been too tolerant... letting you push my limits, step by step... until you broke them."
Saburo turned, looming over his seated son, his voice as flat and unshakable as ever.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing to thin slits. That gaze weighed on Yorinobu like a verdict—like staring at a failed creation.
Sometimes a look could ignite more fury than words. Yorinobu's arms flung wide as his rage erupted, his voice breaking like crashing waves:
"You! Your damned arrogance! Your ambition! Your schemes! This world isn't yours!"
It was accusation and curse at once. His fury seemed baseless—or perhaps it hid some bitter truth between father and son.
Saburo remained cold, unmoved. Under the lamplight, his face was a map of mottled age spots.
"That's not the reason... You. You brought our achievements here, handed them to Western dogs."
If his tone before had been calm, now it was edged with authority and finality.
"This is betrayal! Betrayal of the family—and of me!"
He stared at his son, who had risen in agitation from the sofa. Slowly, Saburo shook his head, as though he no longer wished to look at him.
"Betrayal cannot be forgiven. At least... your mother is gone. She won't have to see you like this... shameless..."
The words hit like shattering glass—splintering something beyond repair.
The fury in Yorinobu's face vanished, leaving only his eyes locked on his father's.
For a moment... he almost looked like Saburo himself.
Then, without warning, Yorinobu lunged, his hand clamping around his father's throat with brutal force.
His glare was vicious, each word cutting like a blade:
"This time, there's nothing left to tolerate."
...
"Fuck... fuck..." V's voice trembled, her pupils quivering. "We're so fucked..."
Saburo Arasaka... dead?
Shit. Why here, why now? What rotten luck to stumble into this.
"We need... we need to get out of here!" V muttered, fighting to rein in her panic—as if saying it aloud could steady her nerves.
But neither time nor circumstance was on their side.
This wasn't their plan anymore. This was a flood breaking the levees.
Outside, Yorinobu himself was unraveling. He paced restlessly before slumping onto the coffee table, staring blankly into nothing.
Arthur frowned, watching through the glass. Slowly, he set the box down in a corner...
Then he drew his revolver and racked the slide.
"What the hell are you doing?" V's pupils narrowed as she watched Arthur lift the gun, pressing the butt against the glass.
"Listen, lady—get a grip." Arthur's voice was hoarse, his eyes locked on Yorinobu. "We can't hide anymore... but we've got a hostage."
"You're insane! He'll pin Saburo's murder on us!" V swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the scene outside.
Right now, she wished more than anything that the old man lying on the floor would just stand back up.
"Forget it... you're right." Her mind finally cleared. The logic was simple: once they were discovered, Yorinobu would use them as scapegoats. There was no avoiding it.
Realizing this, V gave Arthur a sharp look. "You... you really don't know fear. That's fucking Saburo Arasaka..."
Arthur didn't answer. His eyes stayed on Yorinobu, who had stood once more. He drew in steady breaths, his face now devoid of expression.
Step by step, Yorinobu approached the body on the floor. He bent, two fingers reaching toward Saburo's neck...
And just as Yorinobu opened his mouth to speak, Arthur brought his gun down hard.
...
The glass wall shattered instantly, crashing to the ground like an avalanche of shards.
...
The sudden explosion of glass sent Yorinobu sprawling backward in terror.
The slick floor carried him skidding in his black dress pants until he slammed into the coffee table behind him.
"What the fuck!" His peculiar accent cracked with panic. His hands flew up to shield his face, his features twisting in raw fear.
Then he finally saw the figures beyond the broken glass. His pupils shrank in shock.
"Who are you! What do you want!"
"Ah ha, sir. Play nice, and no one else dies." Arthur didn't bother hiding his face—it would be pointless now.
He kept the gun steady as his leather shoes crunched over broken glass, the scrape loud and grating.
"As you can see..." He nudged the box with his heel. "We're thieves. Just a bunch of unlucky thieves."
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser