Megumi becomes a whirlwind of activity. Our meetings shift from back rooms of cafés to a cramped storage unit Tanaka's remaining men use as a makeshift HQ. He eyes us with a mix of disgust and grudging respect, a constant reminder of the tenuous thread our alliance hangs by.
Sakura, to my surprise, thrives amidst the chaos. Using Tanaka's information as a starting point, she worms her way into internet forums dedicated to the city's criminal underbelly, gleaning crucial details about Shadow's movements under the guise of a concerned citizen. Apparently, asking the right questions and playing the 'scared newbie' can be a surprisingly effective manipulation tactic.
News of our unlikely cooperation gets back to Shadow quickly. Predictably, it does not have the intended effect. Instead of backing off, he takes the offensive. A series of calculated attacks cripple Tanaka's remaining outposts and send a clear message: this turf war has only just begun.
Megumi advocates for immediate retaliation, pushing Tanaka's men to hit back hard and fast. It's the logical choice, the ruthless one. Sakura argues for a different approach: send a message of our own, one that paints Shadow as the aggressor, not us. We can't win through force alone, not against his growing power.
It's the old argument on a larger, far more dangerous stage. And as usual, I'm the deciding vote.
The choice gnaws at me. On one hand, Sakura's plan feels like another one of my manipulations, twisting the narrative to suit our needs. It goes against every instinct Tanaka has, making him even more volatile and unpredictable than usual. On the other, Megumi's blood-soaked strategy might destroy what little influence we've clawed back. Neither option feels remotely close to 'heroic' or even survivable.
"We do it my way," I say finally, the words bitter in my mouth. It's a desperate gamble, less about believing in Sakura and more about the horrifying realization that Megumi's path leads to an even darker future.
The plan is deceptively simple. Leak carefully staged 'evidence' of a massive weapon stockpile Shadow's been building, then sit back and let the smaller, less organized gangs turn on him out of fear. It's manipulative, yes, but aimed at breaking up enemy forces, not claiming more territory for ourselves.
It works – frighteningly well. Within days, rumors of Shadow's 'true motives' spread, fanned by Sakura's subtle nudges and planted messages. Soon, the attacks against us cease, replaced by reports of brutal infighting amongst our enemy's allies.
Megumi observes the unfolding chaos with a grudging approval that does little to ease my growing sense of dread. Tanaka, initially furious with my decision, now looks at me with a strange mix of fear and awe, like I've transformed into a monster more dangerous than he ever imagined. Maybe he's right.
One evening, Sakura finds me hunched on a rooftop overlooking the city. The swirling neon below masks the violence still simmering, a constant reminder that every manipulation, every lie, has real consequences.
"It's working," she says softly, taking a seat beside me. The city lights reflect in her eyes, making them seem impossibly large, impossibly trusting.
"For now," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, "But for how long? Each lie builds a bigger tower, and sooner or later, it'll all collapse."
She looks at me for a long moment, then offers the ghost of a smile, tinged with sadness. "Then we'll deal with the collapse when it happens."
It's both the most naive and most profound thing anyone has said to me in this whole mess. But in her eyes, I see not the unwavering faith in some 'hero', but a weary acceptance of who I really am, flaws and manipulations included. And somehow, that acceptance makes the crushing weight of my choices just a little bit lighter to bear.