The Chief of the Investigation Headquarters for the Japanese Port Explosion hadn't even been able to go home,
and sat alone in the darkened office, staring at nothing but a letter.
[It's me, the Mastermind. Let my yakuza subordinates go. Or don't. I don't care. ^^]
Simply looking at that letter made him feel as though his blood was flowing backward.
Blatant mockery, a sentence devoid of sincerity, and even that smiley face at the end.
He felt toyed with.
That tone, as if he couldn't care less whether the yakuza were released or not.
He probably didn't care from the start.
After all, they weren't even connected to him.
The yakuza were nothing but scapegoats that the Investigation Headquarters had framed.
The Mastermind was mocking that fact, enjoying the incompetence and cowardice of the Investigation Headquarters.
He was furious enough to go mad.
Yet, at the same time, he was also grateful.
They had arrested yakuza innocent of any crime, and yet the bombs had still gone off.
So in his haste, he had blabbered about there being a mastermind,
and now that mastermind was proving its own existence.
That letter was also evidence that the Investigation Headquarters' investigation hadn't been wrong.
He picked up the letter again.
He had carried out every possible investigation to find hidden clues in the letter.
Forensic examination.
DNA sampling.
Fiber component analysis of the paper.
Ink component analysis.
Printer toner particle analysis.
Saliva test on the envelope adhesive.
Mail route tracking.
CCTV movement backtracking.
The result: they had found nothing.
It was a perfectly prepared letter, one that had left nothing behind.
Now the Chief had to make a decision.
Whether to release the yakuza, or proceed with the investigation as it was.
"We do not negotiate with terrorists."
It was a national principle.
He intended to follow it, of course.
But what if a bomb went off at the airport?
Could he maintain that principle even then?
The letter was saying:
That it could detonate a bomb at the airport at any time.
It did not feel like a bluff in the slightest.
The Chief called in the prosecutors and the person in charge from the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office.
"Have you identified the runway in the photo?"
"Yes. It's Haneda Airport."
"Haneda?"
The Chief clutched his head.
Haneda Airport, the gateway to Tokyo.
By domestic and international passenger numbers, it was Japan's number one airport.
A strategic point only 20km from the city center.
If Haneda stopped, Tokyo stopped.
If Tokyo stopped, the Japanese economy shook.
There had already been an explosion at the port.
If the airport were to blow up as well?
At that moment, Japan would become 'a country whose system had collapsed.'
Already, insurance companies, shipping companies, and global logistics corporations were reassessing Japan risk.
Insurance premiums had surged.
If the airport blew up too, credit ratings, freight rates, insurance premiums, and investment sentiment would all crumble.
Once it collapsed, it would be uncontrollable.
He didn't know how long it would take to rebuild.
"...Let them go."
A cracked voice leaked from the Chief's mouth.
"Sir? But Chief, if we release them, everything we've said becomes a lie. And the policy of not negotiating with terrorists..."
"Then will you take responsibility?"
"Sir?"
"If a bomb goes off at Haneda, will you take responsibility? Are you going to announce, 'We decided to blow up the airport in order to maintain our principle of not negotiating with terrorists'?"
"That's not it, but we should come up with an alternative."
"An alternative? Bring it here. I'm telling you to bring it. Don't just say it won't work—bring me a goddamn alternative!!"
The Chief let out a shriek and slammed his desk.
Stacks of documents fell to the floor, scattering everywhere.
His eyes were bloodshot with fear and shame.
He put a cigarette in his mouth, but his hands trembled so much he couldn't even light it.
"We just need to slap a suitable name on it. 'Released as bait to catch the mastermind,' 'Not a release but a transfer of custody as a material witness,' something like that."
"What about the press?"
"Slap an embargo on the press. Say it's an unavoidable situation to catch the culprit, embargo them."
"..."
"Tell them to refrain from reporting as it's an unavoidable situation to catch the culprit. Threaten them—if even a bit leaks out, frame whoever it is for leaking classified information. Block it by any means necessary."
"Understood."
The subordinates left, and silence descended upon the office once more.
The Chief leaned back in his chair, muttering to himself.
'This is not a negotiation. It's an operation. A strategic retreat to buy time.'
He persuaded himself so.
But from one corner of his heart, another voice could be heard.
That he had already lost.
To that mastermind whose name he didn't even know, Japan and the Investigation Chief had been completely defeated.
.
.
.
Tokyo Detention House.
The iron gate opened with a heavy groan.
Sunlight poured over the high walls.
A cold, dry air greeted them.
Yakuza organization members, including Kurokawa, walked out with bewildered expressions.
None of them were in good condition.
Their beards had grown out rough,
and they looked as though they hadn't eaten or washed properly.
The yakuza had been arrested without knowing why, and were released without knowing why.
Not understanding what was happening, they began asking one another.
"What did they investigate you for?"
"They just grilled me about every day I'd ever lived."
"That was it?"
"Then they asked if I had anything to do with the Tokyo Port explosion."
"So?"
"So? How am I supposed to answer when I don't know anything? I just said I didn't know."
"And they believed you?"
"No. But I have to know something to answer, right? And this is on too large a scale. It felt like I'd be totally fucked if they just pinned it on me? So I just said I didn't know. Didn't know. Kept saying I didn't know."
"Hehehe, me too."
"Same here."
It seemed they had all been treated the same.
They couldn't understand any of it, but they just accepted it.
They simply thought that was the yakuza life.
It wasn't something that happened once or twice.
Whenever anything happened, the yakuza were the first to get squeezed.
But Kurokawa knew.
This was no coincidence.
Someone had pulled strings.
Otherwise, they would never have gotten out.
They had tried to make the yakuza the culprits.
But releasing them without any reason meant someone had exerted tremendous influence.
"Alex."
And he had no doubt that person was Alex.
His body was exhausted, but his heart was light.
He wanted to see Alex.
But contacting Alex from here and hurrying over to him was something only an amateur would do.
Now of all times, he had to act like nothing had happened.
"Where to now?"
A subordinate beside him asked, offering a cigarette.
Kurokawa was glad to hear those words.
He took a deep drag and answered.
"Where to? We've got work to do. I couldn't work for days, so it's piled up. Let's go to work."
At the unexpected answer, the subordinates glanced at one another in momentary confusion.
But they soon understood his meaning.
Leave the humiliation of the detention house and the dark past inside those walls,
and return to the ordinary, fiercely competitive life of the present.
It was also the most yakuza-like way of repaying Alex, who had saved them from the shadows.
"Yes, understood."
The subordinates bowed their heads in unison.
Pretending not to notice the gaze watching them from afar, Kurokawa began to walk proudly.
Everyday life was beginning again for them.
*******
"It won't be easy."
Allen said.
"That place? Why? It's just a detached house, isn't it?"
"It doesn't seem to be an ordinary detached house."
We were looking at maps and photos on the monitor, conversing.
Using the information we had received from the planning director of Arata Consulting, we had begun tailing Kuroda.
We needed information.
We gathered information on him.
Almost every move he made was***
Following him was the most basic of basics.
But there was a place he frequented that was neither his home nor his office.
A detached house in the middle of Tokyo.
It was strange.
A place he had absolutely no reason to visit.
At first, they suspected a mistress, but it wasn't.
It was too open and visited by too many people to be a mistress's residence.
It wasn't a bar or an office either.
That place...
While investigating Kuroda, they learned he was a member of the Seiwakai.
Synthesizing the information, they began to think that place was connected to the Seiwakai.
Seiwakai. In Korean, it was Cheonghwahoe.
Something clicked perfectly.
He thought that if they cracked that place open, things would pour out like a gold mine.
So he had tried to dig into it, but Allen unexpectedly said it wouldn't be easy.
"When we followed him there, the security was tight. It's not an ordinary detached house."
"We could barely even pass by the surrounding area."
If Allen was saying this much, it truly meant it was difficult.
"Really?"
"If it were just security, we could somehow manage, but what's truly suspicious are the buildings surrounding the detached house."
"What? Buildings?"
"The positioning of the buildings is extremely ideal. It makes me think those buildings might have been constructed to protect that detached house."
I was surprised by Allen's words.
Did that mean he had built buildings around his house to strengthen its security?
Of course, I had also bought an entire complex to live in for safety,
but this was on another level.
"Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent, judging by satellite maps and the surrounding terrain. The surrounding buildings wrap around the house like castle walls. The windows are designed at optimal angles to guard that mansion."
"Hmm..."
"They aren't buildings. They're massive watchtowers protecting that detached house."
It was unexpected.
From the outside, it looked like a detached house in the city; he hadn't known it held such secrets.
His head, and the operation, grew more complicated.
The plan to barge in and catch him recklessly had gone awry.
"So you're saying we can't get in?"
"I believe it will be difficult. We wouldn't even reach the entrance with ordinary firepower."
"Then what do we do?"
"We'll try to understand the system better. There must be a weak point somewhere?"
It was a by-the-book answer, but he didn't like it.
He didn't want to stay here forever.
Was there no way?
Just then, Kuroda was coming out of the detached house after finishing his business.
Suddenly, an idea came to him.
"Let Kuroda know he's being followed."
"We are currently tailing Kuroda, though?"
"Not covertly like now. I mean make it obvious that you're following him. So Kuroda notices."
"What do you mean?"
"If we can't go in, we make him come out. If Kuroda realizes he's being followed, what will he do?"
"He'll be more careful? And inform the Seiwakai?"
"Exactly! Then the Seiwakai will have to make a decision too. Either hole up inside the house, or flee somewhere else."
Allen nodded as if only now understanding.
"I understand what you mean. I will give the order immediately."
From that day, the Obsidian Unit followed Kuroda.
Invisible, yet giving the feeling that they were constantly watching.
.
.
.
At first, he thought it was a delusion.
Because he had been so busy lately,
he thought it was a kind of hypersensitivity caused by fatigue.
But then, the black SUV reflected in the rearview mirror at a traffic light.
The man reflected in the convenience store window.
The man averting his gaze just before the elevator doors closed.
He desperately pretended not to notice.
He tried to brush it off, thinking it was a common sight in Tokyo.
It was a city full of people and cars, after all.
But coincidences do not repeat.
They kept overlapping.
He kept running into the same person.
This was no coincidence.
Someone was watching Kuroda.
Kuroda deliberately changed his route.
Back alleys instead of main roads, visits to places not on his schedule.
He entered a hotel instead of his house.
He had to verify whether they were truly following him.
Even though Kuroda changed his route, the gaze did not disappear.
He didn't know who they were or why they were following him.
But he was certain that gaze was still fixed on him.
Kuroda quietly notified the Seiwakai headquarters.
That he had a tail, and that he would refrain from coming and going for the time being.
There was no need to create unnecessary misunderstandings.
No need to create problems.
The moment he led a tail into headquarters, headquarters would be exposed.
So for now, he would refrain from entering or leaving headquarters.
Of course, even if headquarters were exposed, it wouldn't be a major problem.
What mattered were the conversations that took place inside; the headquarters itself held no great significance.
There was no physical evidence at the headquarters.
But it was a kind of symbol, a sanctuary.
The symbol of the Seiwakai.
The symbol of Japan’s revival.
At Minase’s suggestion, they guarded the area around it with ironclad security.
They put up buildings to protect the headquarters.
Those buildings were used as the Seiwakai’s offices.
The Seiwakai was made up of people who had gathered for Japan’s revival.
They did not want to see that sanctuary violated by anyone else.
Kuroda was more careful than usual.
He only went back and forth between work and hotels, and never went anywhere else.
Even the hotels were different each time.
Because he was afraid.
Even so, the gaze did not leave him.
It clung to him with force.
Now, even the sight of a black car made him break out in a cold sweat, his stomach churning.
Just in case, he changed his cell phone.
He bought a camera detector and a wiretap detector.
He checked his surroundings constantly.
It felt as though someone was eavesdropping around him.
He held the detector up to the people he met.
Though the hotel changed every day, whenever he entered his room, he swept the walls and ceiling with the detector.
Still, he could not feel at ease.
It was hard to sleep.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he felt as if that gaze was there.
Only after gulping down an entire bottle of strong liquor did he barely manage to fall asleep.
But even in his dreams, the gaze clung to him.
He woke up retching.
If he woke in the early hours, he could not fall asleep again.
He had to tremble in anxiety and fear.
It felt as though every car on the road was following Kuroda.
There was nowhere he could feel at ease.
When he ate, when he worked, when he met people, he felt that gaze.
Even in the bathroom.
He told himself it was fine, that there was no need to be like this,
but he could not stop the tension rising from deep within his heart.
His body would not listen to him.
At the slightest thing, he retched.
His fingertips trembled, and his nerves were torn to shreds.
His mind grew worn and desolate.
Now, that gaze did not even make the smallest effort to hide.
It seemed to be looking at Kuroda and laughing.
“Just show yourself.”
“Just take me away.”
Kuroda whispered softly.
He wished there were something tangible he could see.
But that gaze could not be caught, nor could it be seen.
It could only be felt.
He felt as though he was going mad.
Kuroda was collapsing.
Inside a prison without substance, he was slowly losing his mind.
Then a thought suddenly occurred to him.
What if this gaze did not end with Kuroda?
What if it spread to the entire Seiwakai?
What if it followed every person Kuroda met?
Kuroda had given that very order.
When conducting background checks, mark every person they meet.
Most likely, the people Kuroda met,
and even the people met by those Kuroda had met, would be followed.
If that method was being applied to him exactly as it was,
then it was obvious that the entire Seiwakai would be exposed.
In any case, he would only be a burden to the entire Seiwakai.
And in the end, he made his decision.
He opened the hotel window and climbed up onto it.