Fifteen minutes until the start of "Operation Stahl."
When Washio returned to the office, most of the people inside had already gathered.
The room, which could originally only seat about a dozen people, was crammed with more than twenty.
After the sofa was filled, the later arrivals stood against the wall, and the youngest ones simply squatted by the door.
The window was only opened a crack, but cigarettes were lit one after another.
A hazy layer of smoke accumulated beneath the ceiling, mixing with the smell of sweat and the stifling heat of the June night, making the whole room feel as if it had just been burned down somewhere.
Before Washio even entered, several rounds of arguments had already broken out inside.
Someone cursed that the document at the restaurant today was signed much too readily, and someone else asked if the main family was really prepared to follow Saionji's words.
The young man closest to the door spoke particularly harshly, feeling that those people at the top already had their own companies, buildings, and legitimate businesses, but now, looking back, they were leaving the people at the bottom to figure out how to survive on their own three months later.
Someone nearby got annoyed listening to him and kicked him directly.
"What is the use of saying these things now? If you have the guts, go yell at the main family's doorstep."
"Did I fucking say anything wrong?"
"Keep your voice down!"
"What are you afraid of? We are going to do it today anyway, are you still afraid of others hearing?"
After this last sentence, the room fell silent for a moment.
No one answered.
The person who had been shouting the loudest earlier put a cigarette back in his mouth, but his eyes could not help glancing toward the door.
After all, the name Saionji still weighed heavily on people's hearts.
Right at that moment, the door opened.
"Boss."
The person who saw Washio first stood up, and several people nearby followed suit.
The argument that had been stifled in the room quickly stopped.
Abe cleared a way from beside the sofa, Ohno stubbed out the cigarette in his hand into the ashtray, and Matsuda stepped forward to take Washio's removed suit jacket.
Washio was only wearing a white shirt underneath.
He had sweated quite a bit all the way back from the restaurant, and the fabric on his back clung to his body.
"Sit down, everyone."
He said, but he did not sit down himself, walking straight to the innermost table and pulling a cigarette out of his pack.
Everyone squeezed back into their original positions.
The person who had been grumbling just now also shut his mouth.
Washio put the cigarette in his mouth and looked around with raised eyes.
Most of the faces in the room were ones he had looked at for many years; some had joined the group in their teens, some had served time in prison, and some still could not produce a decent resume to this day.
What needed to be said these past few days had already been said long ago.
Repeating from the beginning what would happen three months later would only make people more and more demoralized the more they listened.
Therefore, after Washio lit his cigarette, he only said one sentence.
"The document has been signed."
There was a sudden stir in the room.
Someone sneered, someone cursed "Bastard" in a low voice, and the young man from earlier even slammed his fist against his own knee.
Washio took a puff of his cigarette.
"Watanabe, Hoshino, and Inagawa—all three of them signed."
This time, even Abe's expression sank.
Someone in the back could not help asking:
"Is the main family really planning to follow through?"
Washio glanced in the direction the voice came from.
"What do you think?"
That person did not speak again.
Washio raised three fingers.
"By the end of September."
"Miss Saionji has given us three months. Clean up whatever business we took on before within three months; after three months, what she says cannot be done, cannot be done anymore."
"On what grounds?"
Someone in the back cursed out loud on the spot.
"Who the hell does she think she is!"
"Sitting there with a pen, she is just going to halt decades of our livelihood?"
People nearby immediately joined in cursing, their voices suddenly much louder than before.
"Those people at the top naturally do not care!"
"They all have their own companies!"
"I am forty years old, and now you want me to go work part-time at a convenience store?"
This remark elicited a burst of laughter.
But the laughter was very strange.
Probably because no one actually found it funny.
Abe also grinned for a moment, then spat on the ground.
"Even a convenience store might not want you."
"Go fuck yourself."
The laughing and cursing in the room suddenly multiplied.
That trace of cowardice that had originally made people breathless was instead dispersed a little by these few words.
Washio never stopped them.
He stood there smoking, waiting for that wave of noise to rise on its own, before suddenly removing the cigarette from his lips.
"So I am asking you."
His voice was not very loud.
But the room gradually quieted down.
Washio looked at them.
"Can you swallow this?"
The room fell silent instantly, and no one answered "We can swallow it."
Abe right at the very front directly shook his head.
"I cannot swallow it."
Someone in the back followed up with a sentence.
"I cannot swallow it either."
"Who the fuck can swallow it."
This time, voices emerged from all corners of the room, quickly merging into one.
Washio nodded.
"I cannot swallow it either."
He flicked the ash from his hand into the ashtray.
"I entered this line of work at seventeen, and this year makes thirty-six years. Some of you have followed me for over twenty years, some for over a decade, and the younger ones for a few years. In the past when we ran into turf wars, people blocked our doors with blades, but we never took down our sign."
"And now look at this."
Washio gave a chuckle.
"An eighteen-year-old girl sitting in a restaurant tells us not to eat this bowl of rice after three months."
The faces of those few young men had already flushed red.
Someone cursed through gritted teeth:
"In your dreams!"
Washio immediately looked over.
"Right."
He reached out and gestured at that person.
"It is nothing but a dream."
This action was like someone pouring oil into a fire.
Several people around shouted along simultaneously.
"Right!"
"Why should we listen to her!"
"Let her try it herself!"
Abe also straightened up from his posture of leaning against the table.
"Boss, just tell us what to do today."
Washio's gaze fell on his face, then slowly swept across those in the back who could no longer sit still.
Just moments ago, there were still a few people keeping their heads down.
Now they had all raised them.
When people reached this kind of moment, it was hard to distinguish whether they were scared or not.
The people beside were cursing, the people in front were shouting, and brothers of over a decade stood up one after another.
Even if there was still some hesitation in their hearts, no one was willing to be the first person to say "Forget it."
What Washio was waiting for was precisely this moment.
"Saionji is formidable; I do not need to tell you that."
The room grew slightly quieter.
"She has money, connections, and a bunch of guys who just came back from the Middle East guarding her."
He stubbed the nearly finished cigarette into the ashtray.
"Is it humiliating to be afraid of her?"
Someone stubbornly shouted:
"Not afraid!"
Someone nearby immediately laughed and cursed:
"Stop fucking bragging."
A burst of laughter instantly rang out in the room.
Even Washio smiled.
"Right, stop bragging like that."
"Even I am afraid, what is so hard for you to admit?"
The laughter grew a bit louder.
But the smile on Washio's face slowly faded away.
"Fear is fear, though."
"If we do nothing today, tomorrow people will know that as long as Saionji Satsuki writes a single sentence on paper, the sign that our Washio Group earned over twenty or thirty years will not even dare to let out a fart."
The voices in the room gradually stopped.
"Walking on the street in the future, will people still be afraid of you?"
"Will those newcomers below still feel that following the Washio Group means there will be food to eat?"
"When your own rice bowl is smashed and you do not even dare to make a sound, what is the use of wearing this crest?"
The last trace of a smile on Abe's face completely vanished.
He took a step forward.
"Boss."
"Just give the order."
Several people in the back also stood up along with him.
Some who had been sitting on the floor earlier now pushed themselves up with their hands on their knees; someone tossed their cigarette into the ashtray, their shoe sole heavily scraping against the edge of the tatami mat.
"Let us do it."
"Let us fuck them up."
"Damn it, let that young miss see."
More and more people stood up.
Washio did not mention Saionji anymore.
He simply looked at this room full of people, his voice dropping a bit lower.
"Those who go out with me today are all subordinates of Washio Ryuichi."
"Whoever gets into trouble, I will take responsibility."
"Whoever goes in, I will find a lawyer for him; whoever spends a year inside, I will support his family for a year; spend ten years, I will support them for ten years."
Someone in the back row suddenly shouted.
"Boss!"
Washio looked toward him.
That thirty-something man was already standing straight, his face flushed red from alcohol and excitement.
"We have reached this point, why are you still saying these things!"
The people nearby immediately jeered along.
"Exactly!"
"Follow the Boss and do it!"
"Whoever shrinks back today is a coward!"
That last sentence instantly ignited everyone in the room.
Some laughed loudly, some heavily patted the shoulders of the person next to them, and a few young subordinates were already so excited they began shoving each other.
Abe turned his head and roared toward the back, "Did you all fucking hear that?", and the response received almost made the originally closed door vibrate loudly.
Washio stood at the very front of the crowd, waiting for that wave of noise to pass before raising his hand.
The room slowly quieted down.
"Then cut the crap."
He looked at the crowd.
"After going out, no one is to disgrace the Washio Group."
"Yes!"
This time, more than twenty people responded almost simultaneously.
The room, which had just been suffocatingly stuffy, completely changed.
Some scrambled to get their jackets, others walked over to the phone to urge and ask if the people outside had arrived, and a few young men patted each other's shoulders while repeating those few phrases from earlier: "Let Saionji see."
That restlessness originally hidden beneath fear had been completely stirred up.
Washio watched for a moment, then lifted his chin toward Abe.
"Ohno, Matsuda."
"You guys stay behind."
The rest of the people continued walking outside.
And Washio had already turned around, leading several trusted aides toward the innermost warehouse of the office.
The three of them quickly followed.
Washio pushed open the back door and walked all the way to the innermost part along the narrow corridor.
This place was originally a small warehouse used by the office to stack sundries.
It had already been cleared out in the afternoon.
Only two long black cases were placed on the floor.
When Abe followed him in, he saw them at first glance.
"Boss."
He lifted his chin toward the cases.
"Are those what 'that person' sent?"
"Yeah."
Washio walked over.
"They just arrived this afternoon."
That man had said he would give them a little more help.
Washio had not taken it too much to heart originally.
Because the batch of items sent over the past few days was already enough.
However, since they were truly ready to make a move today, having a few more pieces of hardware certainly would not hurt.
He squatted down and dragged the topmost case under the light.
It was heavier than expected.
Washio frowned slightly.
It seemed... something was wrong?
Abe beside him also noticed it and squatted down along with him.
"Is it packed with this much inside?"
"I do not know."
Washio reached out and flicked open the first metal clasp.
Click.
The second one sprang open right after.
He lifted the lid of the case.
Then his movements stopped.
Abe had originally been bending over to look inside.
Soon, he too lost his voice.
Ohno, standing in the back, frowned and took a step forward.
"What is wrong?"
By the time he saw clearly what was inside the case, the rest of his words were also stuck at the edge of his mouth.
The warehouse suddenly grew strangely quiet.
Abe stared inside for several seconds before raising his head.
"Boss."
His voice was much lower than before.
"Where... did this come from?"
Washio did not answer.
Because he did not know either.
That man had only told him that this batch of items would be very useful.
As for what it actually was or where it came from, the other party had not mentioned a single word.
Washio lowered his head and looked at the case again.
After a while, he reached inside and grabbed one of the items.
It felt heavier in his hand than anticipated.
He pulled the item out of the case.
The gazes of Abe, Ohno, and Matsuda also slowly rose along with it.
Washio scrutinized it himself for a few seconds.
That trace of surprise from earlier was gradually suppressed by another emotion.
Since the other party was willing to give it.
That meant—
At least this time, they were not fighting against Saionji alone.
The corners of Washio's mouth slowly split open into a smile.
He turned around and placed the item in his hands fully before his few trusted aides.
"Did you see it?"
Abe did not make a sound.
Washio's smile instead deepened a bit.
"This is—"
"The help given to us by 'That Person'."
After finishing, he heavily placed the item in his hands onto the wooden table beside them.
Metal collided with the tabletop, producing a dull sound.
That was a rifle.
Colt Manufacturing Company of the United States, caliber 5.516 A1 automatic rifle.