"Chairman, we've arrived."
A luxurious black sedan pulled up to the curb. The driver, wearing sunglasses and white gloves, spoke to the elderly man dozing in the back seat.
Masuyama Kenzou, well into his seventies, opened his eyes, adjusted his attire, and stepped out to greet a few old friends waiting at the entrance of the Beika Hotel with smiles and handshakes.
As the chairman of an automobile company, he was a prominent figure in the financial world.
This time, he'd been invited to attend a charity gala.
Of course, this chairman, who occasionally dabbled in philanthropy, had another, lesser-known identity…
…
Near midnight.
Having just found a group of real-life sparring partners, Tsune stretched lazily and stepped out of a warehouse.
Things were fine before, but ever since his fight with Kyogoku Makoto in Izu, coming back to Beika Town left him feeling… unfulfilled.
The thrill of clashing with a true powerhouse was something these small-time punks couldn't provide.
Lately, Tsune had been eyeing Conan, half-tempted to use that killer soccer ball to hone his skills.
"Am I messed up from getting thrashed by that guy?"
"Seriously, thinking about letting that dog-faced detective kick a ball at me…"
The handyman glanced at the motorcycle he'd swiped from some biker gang, dutifully put on his helmet, and turned the key.
The engine roared to life, echoing through the warehouse district. The taillight streaked into a blur, vanishing into the night.
Ten minutes later.
As the motorcycle entered the city, its speed slowed.
With his helmet on, Tsune didn't bother dodging other vehicles or pedestrians, stopping at a crosswalk to wait for the light.
A black sedan pulled up beside him, coming to a slow stop.
The driver handled the car with calm precision, clearly professionally trained.
While Tsune was sizing up the luxury sedan, the rear window rolled down.
An elderly man appeared, his face flushed and eyes bleary—likely from drinking heavily. He held a cigarette, tapping ash out the window.
That old face… I've seen it somewhere…
Tsune froze, momentarily lost in thought.
Beep!
The car behind him honked, urging the idle motorcycle forward.
Tsune instinctively followed the black sedan.
The car wound its way to a secluded area. The driver got out and opened the door for the chairman.
Masuyama Kenzou glanced at the motorcycle tailing them, a flicker of suspicion in his mind.
"Go check it out," he signaled to the driver before heading alone into a nearby alley.
"Yes, sir!" The driver, ever professional, gave a slight bow and approached the motorcycle.
He wasn't just a driver—he was a skilled fighter, doubling as a bodyguard.
"Who are you?"
Tsune tilted his head, silent at the driver's question.
That's right, isn't it?
That old man's Pisco. I'm not mistaken.
"I'm talking to you!" the driver snapped, reaching to yank off Tsune's helmet.
Just another punk looking to extort someone, huh?
Too bad. You're not too bright.
You picked the wrong target.
The chairman's not someone you can mess with!
Tsune didn't resist, letting the driver remove his helmet.
"Heh, if you're offering to park my bike, don't expect a tip."
Tsune pulled sunglasses from his pocket and put them on, his voice icy through a mask-like voice changer.
"You…" The driver's pupils shrank as he took in Tsune's getup.
A mask, sunglasses, that cold, chilling voice…
It brought to mind the legendary Dark Knight, who only struck at night.
"Come on." Tsune eyed him, clenching his gloved fist.
Oh, yeah!
This guy looks like he can take a beating!
…
Three minutes later.
Tsune draped the fallen helmet over the handlebars.
Thoughtfully, he tossed the unconscious driver into the car before heading into the dark alley.
The handyman couldn't quite figure it out. What could possibly draw a rich guy like that to a rundown alley in the middle of the night?
Gin?
Didn't feel like it.
A secret mistress?
Unlikely. This area was full of old buildings—hardly a place to hide a lover.
Heh, surely he's not just desperate to pee?
Tsune spotted a faint red glow flickering at the alley's corner.
He lightened his steps, creeping closer.
"I told you to be more careful," a woman's voice said.
"Don't worry. That small fry won't cause any trouble," replied Masuyama Kenzou—or rather, Pisco, as he should be called now.
Cigarette in his mouth, his tone was relaxed, exuding the calm confidence of a big shot.
Tsune overheard their conversation wrapping up. With a cold smirk, he stepped out, confronting the two who'd been scheming in the shadows.
He hadn't planned to do anything to Pisco just yet.
But if that woman was here, heh…
You still owe me for those drinks.
"Vermouth!"
Pisco froze at the figure in the darkness, turning to Vermouth.
You didn't tell me someone else was coming!
My identity can't be exposed—you know that!
Pisco didn't doubt his driver's skills for a second, assuming the motorcyclist was already down.
With no light, he mistook Tsune for one of the organization's own.
Dressed in black, Vermouth smiled faintly at the familiar voice. "Well, aren't we fated to meet?"
"Dark Knight, sir."
"D-Dark Knight?!" Pisco gaped at the towering shadow just two meters away.
The guy who's been a thorn in the organization's side?
Talk about bad luck!
Even Gin couldn't handle him.
"Tch!"
Without a word, Tsune launched a kick at the old man's hip.
Pisco flew two or three meters, clutching his thigh and collapsing in pain, unable to stand.
"How'd you track us here?" Vermouth asked, unruffled, as if greeting an old friend.
She didn't think he'd attack her easily.
That feeling stemmed from their last chat at the bar.
"Thanks to our dear chairman showing me the way."
Tsune glanced at Pisco, who was fumbling for something in his coat, and sneered.
(End of Chapter)
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
It may not be worth it now, but who knows, it might be different in the future. Who knows!
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