'Your people have been provoking me the whole time.'
Fujiwara Shunsui wasn't lying; he'd forgotten how long it had been since a blade had been pressed against him. In his mind, the plan was simple: follow the agreed process, voice his doubts, and wait for the mastermind to show up.
He bore no real malice toward these small-fry underlings—hadn't even planned on fighting them.
But
some people take themselves too seriously and everyone else for granted.
I'm wearing a mask; I'm not some petty thief anymore,
I'm a lightning-fast outlaw!
That was Shunsui's honest mental state at the moment.
'Out of the car!'
'Out of the car!'
Three or four people stepped out of the vehicle in front of him.
Even the driver from the neighboring van had joined them; they'd been only three inside, assuming this was a routine hand-off and barely giving the other party a thought.
Now look—two badly injured.
That forced everyone to reappraise the man behind the wheel.
Just then a punk with a baseball bat climbed out of the van.
He pressed the bat against Shunsui's driver-side window,
tapping it lightly and saying:
'Hey, hey, quit provoking us. Hand the person over and we'll let bygones be bygones!'
Boss, who exactly has been provoking whom here?
The person on the other end of Shunsui's call seemed to sense the tension; Yuna's voice came through,
'What's the situation? Need backup?'
'No. Keep screening until you lock the target, then ping me. I can handle this side alone.'
Shunsui tugged his mask tighter, excitement rising.
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In the back seat, Miya Harukiko was getting nervous.
'Shunsui-kun, are you really okay?'
Watching the crowd gathering around the car, she asked anxiously.
'Relax, Kiko-chan. I'll protect you, no matter what.'
With that, Fujiwara Shunsui opened Kinoshita Hisashi's phone and fired off another text to the buyer.
'I've decided to teach them a lesson.'
He snapped a photo of the bat-wielding thug on his right.
Shunsui rolled the window down slowly.
The punk thought his intimidation had worked and pressed the full length of the bat against Shunsui's right cheek.
Still used to left-hand drive from his past life, Shunsui found right-hand drive a bit awkward.
He looked at the kid on his right as if staring at an idiot.
'Hand the person over—now!'
The punk jabbed the bat harder into Fujiwara Shunsui's face while shouting,
'What're you staring at? I'm talking to you!'
Shunsui said nothing, just kept looking at him.
Suddenly Shunsui flung the door open, twisted his head so the bat lost its leverage, and the door's impact rammed the punk's arm through the window.
Before the guy could react, Shunsui grabbed that arm and wrenched it into a lock.
'Aaaargh—'
A shrill scream echoed across the parking lot.
The others couldn't wait for orders any longer; watching comrades fall one by one, they'd have fought even the Emperor himself.
'Get him!'
'Cripple the bastard!'
'All together!'
The remaining men rushed in with knives, daggers, bats—every street thug weapon imaginable.
Fujiwara Shunsui had been craving exactly this scene.
It was the outcome he wanted.
If the other side sends people to make contact,
you eliminate those contacts and force the boss to show up in person—simple.
Shunsui was certain that, for a hand-off this important, someone was hiding nearby, watching every move.
The current chaos was perfect.
Three minutes later,
five more bodies lay on the ground.
Shunsui scratched his mask, breathing a little harder.
He had to admit, he was growing fond of these fist-to-fist brawls.
Had the thugs been unarmed,
the fight would've been easier.
Fujiwara Shunsui studied the fallen men,
plucked a wireless earpiece from one of their ears,
and fitted it into his own.
'Hello,'
he greeted politely.
He was sure the real mastermind had been directing these punks through that earbud; now every last one was down.
'If you don't want the deal, the deposit is non-refundable.'
Shunsui knew he had to speak the language of the black market to dispel suspicion.
Still, no response came.
He began to wonder if the line had already gone dead.
'All right, I'll deliver your man back in one piece.'
With that, Fujiwara Shunsui climbed back into the car, earpiece still in.
From the rear seat Miya Harukiko started to speak the moment he was safely inside,
but Shunsui raised a finger to his lips.
Kiko-chan understood at once and obediently fell silent.
Just as Shunsui was about to drive off,
a voice crackled through the earpiece:
'Give me five minutes. I'm on my way.'
Hearing that, Fujiwara Shunsui smiled.
Couldn't resist after all, could you?
He promptly pulled the earbud out and tossed it far out the window.
'It's over, Kiko-chan. Everything will be settled soon.'
Right now Shunsui wanted to see exactly who—and why—someone had such a fixation on Miya Harukiko.
'Mm!'
Kiko-chan gave a small, firm nod.
If all of this could end tonight,
how wonderful that would be,
her once-peaceful life finally returning to normal.
She didn't want Fujiwara Shunsui living under constant threat,
nor did she want to drag Kojou Yuna and Nissho Taro into her troubles.
All she wanted was to stay quietly by Shunsui's side,
even without name or status,
though Shunsui-kun had told Nakamura Aoi that she was his girlfriend, hadn't he~
Thinking of that,
Kiko-chan felt like the happiest woman alive again.
A few minutes later,
a black Mercedes-Maybach pulled up not far away,
the driver stepped out,
and slowly walked toward them.
'Target is in a black Maybach—run the plates.'
After saying that,
Shunsui climbed out again, turning back to tell Miya Harukiko, 'No matter what, stay in the car. If anything happens, call Yuna.'
He pointed to the phone between them, still on speaker.
Then, carrying Kinoshita Hisashi's phone, he stepped out.
'Is that you?'
'It's me.'
Watching the Dark Web chat, Shunsui saw the approaching man lower his head to reply.
Fujiwara Shunsui was almost certain—he was the one who'd posted the bounty online to kidnap Miya Harukiko.
Yet for some reason, the way the man walked felt eerily familiar.
Almost like…
Yes,
exactly like Taro's gait.
"Hello!"
The man stepped up to Fujiwara Shunsui and offered his hand.
Shunsui clasped it firmly with his right.
"Hi, I'm Fujiwara Shunsui!"
With his left hand, Harumizu yanked off his hood—after a whole night, he could finally show his real face.
Exhausting!
Shunsui squeezed harder, afraid the man might slip away.
The instant the man saw Harumizu's face—and heard the name—he tried to jerk free, but failed.
Shunsui flicked sweat-damp hair from his forehead with his left hand,
then looked the man square in the eye and asked,
"Do we know each other?"
Staring at that face, the man belatedly realized Shunsui's physique matched the intel's impossible description.
In the end he could only answer,
"I… don't think so."
"Then why did you hire those killers to snatch my girlfriend from my home—and warn them to watch out for me?"
Harumizu studied him with amusement,
the crushing psychological weight—and the tightening grip—leaving the man flustered.
Kidnap? Girlfriend? Miya Harukiko?
So it was all true.
They'd gone to the Dark Web begging the Black Dragon Society to abduct Kiko for their ends.
But a few days earlier,
after endless waiting, the Society had backed out and paid fivefold compensation—
leaving them no room to complain.
The reason was simple: the risk was too high—Sankou-gumi was involved.
Sankou-gumi,
the immovable mountain every Syndicate member and underworld figure must face,
the pressure that eventually crushes every scheme.
So,
after the Black Dragon Society refused, they mobilized every contact to dig into Miya Harukiko.
They'd even discovered she was Shunsui's tenant—Landlord and renter.
Yet
they still refused to believe Sankou-gumi spokesman Nissho Taro's public claim:
"Miya Harukiko is Sankou-gumi."
Their own files were clear:
Kiko was a full-time housewife, a woman with zero overlap between Shunsui and Sankou-gumi's Shinjuku turf.
But facing Fujiwara Shunsui now,
words felt hollow.
"I…"
The man choked; his free hand twitched, but Shunsui stopped it cold.
"Don't. Think before you answer."
Shunsui shoved him into the car, patted him down,
and found only a defensive dagger—no "great equalizer."
Earlier, Shunsui hadn't even considered the possibility,
but Kinoshita Hisashi's stunt had sobered him up:
Japan's laws are strict, yet civilians still pack heat—
especially in their line of work.
He opened the rear door and barked into the car phone,
"Clean-up crew, my parking spot. Handle these guys the usual way."
Per Sankou-gumi rules,
anyone who survived tonight had to lose a finger.
Of course,
today's Syndicate is a civilized Syndicate—
courtesy and fresh ethics start with their generation.
Blades were retired long ago;
now they simply snapped fingers as a reminder—especially since Shunsui had already pummeled them beyond recognition.
Within minutes,
three cars
converged from different directions.
Kojou Yuna and Nissho Taro stepped out first,
taking the left and right seats up front.
Miya Harukiko shifted in the back, giving Shunsui and the stranger a little breathing room in the compact van.
The rear was still roomy for a mini-wagon.
Kojima Bin appeared as well,
but this time he followed protocol, silently joining the others in clearing the perimeter instead of greeting Shunsui.
Screams erupted outside—
the agony of bones snapped barehanded is unbearable.
Just then,
Shunsui released the man's right hand and calmly lifted his left.
Seeing the terror on his face,
Shunsui was convinced this guy couldn't be the mastermind—
what ringleader shakes this badly?
None of the big shots ever tremble at their own game.
So he decided on a quick chat first.
He raised the man's left hand, clamping the little finger between his own right palm,
forced a smile, and said in a gentle tone,
"I ask, you answer—okay?"
In the dim car, the overhead bulb cast a ghastly light across Shunsui's face, twisting his smile into something monstrous.
The man stared, too petrified to reply.
"Agh—!"
Without warning, Shunsui snapped the little finger clean out of its socket.
"All right, all right—I'll talk! Just stop!"
Gasping, the man surrendered; even Kiko flinched at the sudden crack.
"Name!"
"Ogawa Shun."
Shunsui tapped Kojou Yuna in the passenger seat; Yuna-chan gave a short "Mm" of acknowledgment.
She knew exactly what he meant—
with a name, they could find everything.
"Why kidnap Miya Harukiko?"
Ogawa hesitated, silence returning.
"Agh—!"
Another scream—
Shunsui broke the ring finger.
Searing pain flooded him,
"We want her kidneys!"
PS: This book has made it this far only because of every one of you—thank you for reading and for sticking with me. I know the pacing drags sometimes; I'm working to fix it. I'll finish this story, I promise.
Mainly, my outline wasn't tight enough—I feared rushing would create chaos, but now it's crawling.
Sorry, everyone. I'll keep at it.