Ali climbed to the roof of one of the four warehouses, moving swiftly and quietly as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop. Each landing was smooth, his movements fluid and controlled, until he reached the roof of the fourth warehouse, the one closest to a two-story building nestled in the port. From this vantage point, Ali had a clear view of the second floor through the large glass windows. Inside, he spotted two men. One, seated behind a desk, had a long scar running from his lip all the way up to his eye. His face was set in a permanent grimace, a physical testament to his violent life. The other man, standing on the opposite side of the desk, had a shock of fiery red hair. Both were dressed in formal mafia suits, though it was evident from their demeanour who was in charge.
The cool night breeze blew through two open windows behind the scarred man, bringing in the cold air of the Tokyo night. Ali, noticing the opportunity, didn't hesitate. With the grace of a predator, he jumped from the warehouse roof, soaring silently through the air, and slipped through one of the open windows.
The red-haired man's eyes went wide, his jaw dropping in shock as he saw the massive figure of Ali appear out of nowhere, flying toward them.
"What's wrong?" the scarred boss asked, his voice gruff, as he noticed his subordinate's stunned expression. He started to turn his head, curious about what had spooked the redhead, but stopped mid-motion. He had frozen in place as he felt the cold steel barrel of Ali's handgun press against the side of his skull.
"Who the FUC—?" The scarred man barely had time to form the words before Ali struck. With a swift and brutal movement, Ali slammed the butt of the gun into the back of the man's head. The blow was precise, knocking him out cold before he even finished his sentence.
The red-haired subordinate's hand twitched as he instinctively reached for the knife hidden in his back pocket. But before he could even think of drawing it, Ali shifted his attention to him, levelling the gun at his face. Ali made a quieting motion with his free hand, raising a single finger to his lips. "Shhhh. You make any noise, you die," Ali said in a low, threatening whisper, advancing slowly toward the redhead.
"What's your name?" Ali asked casually, sitting on the edge of the desk, still keeping the gun aimed at the red-haired man's forehead.
"Hero," the man stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
Ali couldn't help but laugh. "PFFFFF-Your name's Hero? What kind of messed-up joke is that?"
The red-haired man, still visibly trembling, replied, "My dad named me when he was drunk. He was always drunk."
"Okay, Hero, l've got a proposition for you. Do you want a promotion?" Ali's tone suddenly turned cold, and his expression hardened.
"What do you mean?" Hero asked cautiously, trying to keep his voice steady, though his hands were still shaking.
Ali leaned forward slightly, his large frame looming over the smaller man. "Well, here's the thing. Your sleeping boss over there? I'm going to kill him. And if you're smart, you'll follow my orders and take over as the new supervisor of this port. So, Hero, what's it gonna be? You want a promotion and a better life, or do you want to follow your boss to hell?" Ali's voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable menace in his words.
Hero's eyes darted to his unconscious boss, the man he had worked under for years. He gulped, his throat dry, and looked back at Ali. "I'll do it," he said, his voice weak but resolute. It was that easy. Years of loyalty shattered in a matter of seconds. That was life in the world of crime-where betrayal was just another tool for survival.
"Good," Ali said with a smirk. He extended his hand for a handshake, and Hero hesitantly reached out in response. But the moment their hands touched, Ali's expression turned ice-cold. In a swift, brutal motion, Ali grabbed Hero by the throat, lifting him slightly off the ground as he squeezed. Hero's face turned red, his hands clawing at Ali's, struggling for air.
"Listen closely," Ali whispered, his voice low and menacing. "Any disobedience, and I'll make sure you die a slow, painful death." His grip tightened for a moment before he let go, and Hero crumpled to the floor, gasping and clutching his neck.
Ali calmly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, tossing it on the ground in front of Hero. He then turned back toward the window, standing on the edge with his gun now aimed directly at the scarred boss's head.
BANG!
The gunshot rang out like a thunderclap, echoing through the stillness of the port. The bullet pierced the skull of the scarred man, killing him instantly. Blood splattered across the desk, and Hero, now quick to act, stuffed the paper into his pocket before rushing over to his fallen boss. "MEN, ASSASSIN! LOCK DOWN THE PORT!" Hero shouted, his voice filled with faux fury.
His cries were immediately heard by the mafia guards stationed outside. Within moments, they burst into the room, only to find their boss dead, blood pooling around him. Hero was holding the lifeless body, his face twisted into a mask of rage, stained with the blood of his former superior.
Hours earlier, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a coffee shop in Tokyo named Anteiku was quietly closing for the day. The waitstaff moved about, wiping down tables and cleaning up the last remnants of the day's business. Renji Yomo sat at one of the tables, watching as Nishiki Nishio and Roma Hoito worked, silently finishing their tasks. The shop was peaceful, the atmosphere calm, until the door suddenly swung open with a bang, shattering the stillness.
All three looked up, their gazes landing on the woman who entered. She looked utterly miserable, her clothes rumpled, her face showing signs of emotional exhaustion. Her steps were slow and deliberate as she walked into the centre of the shop, her eyes scanning the room.
"Excuse me, the shop is closed right now," Renji said politely but firmly as he stood up from his seat, his eyes fixed on the woman.
"Where is the old man?" she demanded, her voice filled with anger and frustration.
Renji's eyes narrowed at her tone. "He's busy at the moment. You'll have to come back another time," he replied, his voice growing cold, suspicion creeping into his mind.
Ashley glared at Renji, her expression hard. "You will take me to him RIGHT NOW," she hissed, her voice filled with barely contained fury. "Or I'll make sure every human in Tokyo knows about you monsters and your little shop."
The room went silent for a moment as her words hung in the air. Renji's fists clenched at his sides, while Nishio and Hoito's eyes turned crimson, shifting into their ghoul forms, their predatory instincts kicking in. Before anything could escalate, a calm, measured voice broke the tension.
"Were you asking for me?" The voice belonged to Yoshimura, who stood at the bottom of the stairs, his expression unreadable. "Please, join me upstairs," he said, gesturing toward the staircase.
Ashley followed Yoshimura upstairs, her expression hardening, while Renji trailed closely behind them. Once they entered the private room upstairs, Renji quietly shut the door behind them, his eyes never leaving the woman.
"Would you care for some coffee?" Yoshimura asked, offering a cup with his usual calm demeanour.
"I don't want your fucking coffee!" Ashley snapped, sitting down heavily on the sofa. Yoshimura remained unfazed, taking a seat across from her, while Renji stood watch from the side.
"Then what is it that you want?" Yoshimura asked, his voice calm and measured, his eyes closed.
Ashley's voice trembled as she spoke. "I need your help."
Yoshimura opened his eyes, his gaze now sharp and focused on her.
"My brother," she continued, her voice breaking. "My little brother... they have him. You have to bring him back to me!"
Both Renji and Yoshimura exchanged a glance. "Who has your brother?" Renji asked cautiously.
"Your kind-ghouls," she spat. "They kidnapped him. They're planning to sell him like cattle at one of their disgusting auctions. I went to the CCG, but they don't care. They're more interested in killing ghouls than saving my brother's life. You," she pointed at Yoshimura, "you will help me. Or I'll make sure the whole world knows about your little hideout. I've already got people waiting to release the information if I don't make it out of here."
Renji leaned in and whispered something into Yoshimura's ear. The old man listened carefully, his face hardening slightly before he nodded.
"I will help you," Yoshimura finally said, his tone serious. "But it will only be me. I won't risk the lives of my people." His voice left no room for negotiation.
Ashley nodded, accepting the terms. She left the shop not long after, and once she was far enough away from Anteiku, a sly smile crept onto her face. She looked up at the night sky and chuckled to herself. "Phew, that went perfectly. I'm way too good at this. HAHAHA!" she laughed to herself, as she kept walking-searching for the nearest hotel where she could rest for the night.
The tension she had displayed moments before was now gone, replaced by a sense of smug satisfaction. Her performance at the café had been flawless, and now the legendary ghoul, Yoshimura, was on the hook. As she walked, her thoughts raced, strategising the next steps of her plan. She had spun a web of lies, but in a world as chaotic as this one, truth and deception often blurred.
Whatever her true intentions were, tonight had been a success. She would sleep peacefully knowing the next phase of her game was about to begin.
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Five extra chapters on patreon.com/Rondo312