The engines of the three heavy trucks slowly shut off, their massive bodies casting eerie shadows on the quiet bayside highway.
The ear-piercing screech of air brakes ripped through the night sky, announcing the end of this one-sided massacre.
The car door opened, and Ryuzaki Makoto was the first to get out of the passenger seat of the middle truck.
A long, pure black trench coat was draped over his shoulders, the hem fluttering in the sea breeze.
His expression was indifferent, his gaze calmly sweeping over the hellish scene before him, composed of twisted steel and severed limbs.
Immediately afterwards, Kirisawa Jin, Kazama Kaoru, and more than thirty elite members of the Shinryukai jumped off the three trucks.
Their movements were perfectly synchronized, and they landed silently.
Ryuzaki's gaze didn't linger on the scrap metal for long. He merely glanced at Nikaido, the only one who had reacted and climbed over the highway guardrail, then said to Kirisawa Jin beside him:
"Bring that person back."
Kirisawa Jin's gaze fell on the figure struggling to get up from the grassy slope. Looking at Nikaido, who hadn't run far, his face remained expressionless.
He simply pulled a silenced pistol from behind his waist and raised his arm.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two muffled gunshots rang out, inconspicuous in the vast night.
As Nikaido struggled to escape, two bursts of blood suddenly erupted from his thighs.
A sharp pain instantly spread throughout his body. He let out a muffled groan of agony, his body went limp, and he collapsed onto the grass.
Kirisawa Jin put away his pistol, not even bothering to look at it again, and simply tilted his head at the two True Dragon Society members beside him.
The two immediately understood and walked silently toward the direction where Nikaido had fallen.
Ryuzaki Makoto looked at the pile of twisted scrap metal in the middle of the heavy truck, which was no longer recognizable, and said calmly to Kazama Kaoru beside him:
"Send someone to check if Tatsumi Iemura is still alive."
Kaoru Kazama nodded, turned around and waved his hand. Immediately, more than ten members of the True Dragon Society followed him toward the most horrific car wreckage in the middle.
Amidst the ruins, some members of the village association had not died immediately; they were trapped in the deformed carriages, groaning in pain and weakly calling for help.
However, what awaited them was not rescue, but death.
The True Dragon Society members, heading towards the wreckage, drew their long, gleaming swords.
They silently approached every source of sound, and without hesitation plunged their blades into the throats of the survivors.
With a swift and clean motion, the knife fell swiftly and decisively.
A few more brief, piercing cries rang out in the arena, but soon returned to complete silence.
Kaoru Kazama ignored the cleanup work. He led a few people, stepping over the broken glass and metal parts scattered on the ground, to examine the wreckage of each car one by one.
Suddenly, in the back seat of a car that was completely destroyed at the front but not so badly damaged at the rear, he saw a middle-aged man groaning in pain.
He immediately recognized the other person's identity and turned back to Ryuzaki Makoto's side.
"Boss, we found it."
Ryuzaki Makoto nodded.
"Take me there."
Ryuzaki Makoto followed Kazama Kaoru through this land of death and arrived at a car whose body was severely deformed.
The front of the car was deeply dented, almost touching the back seat.
Sitting in the back seat was Tatsumi Iemura.
Upon closer inspection, a steel bar that had broken off from the roof of the car had been inserted diagonally into his right abdomen, pinning him to the seat.
Blood was gushing from the wound, staining his expensive suit red.
Even if Ryuzaki doesn't come to finish him off, he won't live much longer with these injuries alone.
After all, Iemura Tatsumi had been the older brother for many years. He leaned back in his seat, panting heavily. When he saw Ryuzaki Makoto walk to the front of the car, there was no fear in his cloudy eyes, only understanding.
He coughed violently twice, spitting out a large amount of blood mixed with fragments of internal organs, and then said in an extremely weak voice:
"Young man...do you have a cigarette?"
Ryuzaki Shin took a cigarette out of his pocket, bent down, and gently placed it in his mouth.
Ryomi Iemura's lips moved, forcing an awkward smile.
"If you don't mind... borrowing a light again."
Ryuzaki Makoto didn't say anything, but simply took out the brass lighter, turned it on with a "ding," and lit the cigarette for Iemura Ryūmi.
With all his might, Ryūmi Iemura took a deep drag on his cigarette; the momentary numbness from the nicotine seemed to alleviate some of his pain.
He slowly exhaled smoke, looked at Ryuzaki Makoto, and said in a hoarse voice:
"Young man, you've won."
Ryuzaki didn't look at him again. Instead, he turned around, leaned against the twisted car body, and looked up at the bright moon in the sky.
He lit a cigarette for himself, took a deep drag, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.
Ryuzaki didn't respond to Iemura Tatsumi's question, but simply asked:
"Any last words?"
Strictly speaking, Ryuzaki Makoto and Iemura Tatsumi didn't have any real interaction. He was always the one secretly plotting against the Iemura Association, so he didn't have any real grudge against Iemura Tatsumi herself.
If he has any unfulfilled wishes, I wouldn't mind finding someone to help him fulfill them.
We're all in this together; sometimes, there's no need to make things so ugly.
"Last words? Hahaha... cough cough cough..."
Iemura Tatsumi repeated Ryuzaki Makoto's words, then chuckled twice as if he had thought of something funny, which triggered an even more violent coughing fit, with more blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
He had no relatives, was all alone, and had long since lost all ties.
Ryūmi Iemura's lips grew even paler, and his gaze began to glaze over, but he still looked at Makoto Ryūzaki and, with his last strength, said:
"Kid…you're more insane than anyone else in our Kowloon Group…the more you do this…the closer you are to destruction…"
When Ryuzaki Makoto heard this, he didn't reply, but just silently smoked his cigarette.
And Tatsumi Iemura didn't say another word.
The time it takes to smoke a cigarette passes quickly.
Ryuzaki threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it out with his toe.
When he turned around, Iemura Ryume was already leaning there, her face pale, her eyes lifeless, and the cigarette in her mouth was still burning on its own, with a bit of ash about to fall.
It seems they've been walking for quite a while.
Ryuzaki Makoto reached out and gently removed the cigarette from Iemura Ryume's mouth, then slowly closed his wide-open eyes and whispered:
"Thanks."
A person's words are good when they are about to die.
He could tell that Tatsumi Iemura's last words were well-intentioned.
Before he died, the man did not beg for mercy, did not curse, and did not lose his composure; he simply asked for a cigarette.
Ryuzaki Shin also held him in higher regard.
Just then, the two members of the True Dragon Society dragged Nikaido, who was lying like a dead dog, to Ryuzaki Makoto and threw him to the ground.
Upon seeing Ryuzaki Makoto, Nikaido's will to survive instantly unleashed astonishing power.
Ignoring the gunshot wound in his leg, he struggled to crawl over, grabbed Ryuzaki Makoto's leg, and pleaded with tears streaming down his face:
"Please don't kill me! I know a lot of evidence of Longmei's drug trafficking in Jiacun, and I know where his ledgers for secret transactions with other organizations are hidden! If you spare my life, I'll tell you everything! I'll give you everything! Please..."