The internet cafe is a dimly lit den filled with the steady hum of computers, the clatter of keyboards, and the smell of stale energy drinks. It's a far cry from my meticulously crafted hidden lairs. This is Sakura's territory. I watch her move between the shadowed booths, her usual shyness replaced by a surprising ease as she chats with the regulars.
Megumi is less comfortable. She perches on a faded plastic chair with the rigid posture of someone slumming it by choice. Her gaze darts around the room, analyzing potential threats and targets.
"This is ridiculous," she mutters, "We shouldn't be relying on a schoolgirl's part-time job for intel."
"Sakura-san has proven herself valuable," I remind her. I still find it unnerving to defend Sakura to Megumi, like I'm caught in a tug-of-war with myself.
Just then, Sakura returns, carrying two battered mugs of questionably strong coffee. She places them on the sticky tabletop with a shy smile directed more at me than at Megumi.
"My cousin says there's a new boss," she reports, her voice barely above whisper, "They call him 'Shadow-san', very mysterious..." she trails off, glancing nervously at Megumi.
"Amateur theatrics," Megumi scoffs, but I see a flicker of interest in her eyes.
"Go on," I urge Sakura.
"A lot of Kenji's old guys are following him. Apparently...he's looking for revenge, thinks we had something to do with his downfall."
My stomach churns. This is bad. Not the predictable gang retaliation, but that he suspects us. We were never as hidden as I believed. Every lie, every manipulation...they've built a trail that leads back to us. To me.
Megumi must sense my worry. "This changes things," she says, a predatory glint in her eye, "We need to strike first. Show him we're not afraid."
"Strike how?" I ask, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice, "We barely control a few street thugs."
Her smile is cold. "We create a monster."
Her plan is as bold as it is reckless. Frame a smaller player, fuel rumors of their growing power, make Shadow believe he has a true rival to worry about. We'll let them tear each other apart while we consolidate our position under the radar.
Sakura stares at Megumi in horror, but her voice is barely audible. "That's...so cruel..."
"It's necessary," Megumi retorts sharply, "This isn't some childish game anymore. Either we play to win, or we get crushed."
Something inside me snaps. "I won't let more people get hurt." My voice is stronger than I expect.
Megumi sneers. "A sudden attack of conscience? Don't pretend you were ever some noble hero, Ryu."
Her words sting because they're true. I wanted to play the puppet master, but somewhere along the way, the game became horrifyingly real.
Sakura stands, hands clenched into fists, surprising both me and Megumi. "Then let's change the game," she says, her stutter less pronounced, "Instead of making them fight, maybe... maybe we can make allies?"
Megumi scoffs, but I'm intrigued. Sakura has always seen the good in me that simply isn't there, but maybe her impossible optimism is exactly what this mess needs.
"How?" I ask.
A determined glint enters her eyes. "Information is power, right? If we control what Shadow hears, maybe we can...steer things."
It's a flimsy plan, a desperate gamble built on nothing more than Sakura's belief in the impossible. But clinging to my delusions of being an 'Unsung Overlord' hasn't exactly worked out well so far.
"We do it your way," I tell Sakura, surprising myself more than Megumi, whose scornful expression shifts to grudging curiosity.