Chapter 6: A Favor Owed
The saying "a crane standing among chickens" perfectly described this scene.
A man walked in from the darkness outside, appearing under the casino's dim lights and instantly capturing everyone's attention.
He was a giant, well over 190cm tall, with a face that screamed he was no ordinary man.
He had slicked-back hair and wore a work shirt.
His massive muscles were obvious even through his clothes, and his back—a vital target—had an unnatural bulge.
His fists, the size of boulders, were covered in countless scars, large and small.
No one would have doubted this man's strength.
Komada—the [Nioh]!
His appearance instantly ignited the underground casino. No one cared about the scar-faced punk anymore. The various "bad guys" were ecstatic.
"What a terrifying physique! He's the real deal!"
"This was worth the price! Did the Grisly Tooth Gang hit the jackpot? They actually hired an active Kengan Association fighter!"
"Yeah! [Nioh], you gotta kill your opponent tonight! I wanna see a river of blood!"
"..."
...
The atmosphere was a suffocating heatwave, pressing down on everyone.
But even in this abnormal environment, there was a pocket of calm, as if even a hurricane couldn't shake it.
The minor boss could feel it—
Shiraki Kei and the three girls beside him... their gazes on [Nioh] Komada held excitement, confusion, and curiosity, but absolutely zero fear or cowardice!
"Tch..."
Intense unease, combined with the discomfort of being grabbed by Kei, made the boss twist his body, shrugging off the arm on his shoulder.
"He's finally here. I'm going to set up the match. Someone will come get you!"
The boss didn't want to stay a second longer and turned to leave.
After he left, Karura, with a knowing look, dragged Arisa off under the pretext of getting drinks, leaving Kure Fusu alone with Shiraki Kei.
"Yo, Boss!"
Fusu suddenly changed her form of address, greeting him again. Shiraki Kei paused.
"Why 'Boss' all of a sudden..." He thought for a second, then became vigilant. "Is protecting Arisa a billable service?!"
"No, no! She's Karura's classmate. Protecting Arisa is on the house!"
Kure Fusu waved her hands, but the smile in her mismatched eyes didn't fade. "But, that said, you do know about the 'Kure Clan,' don't you?"
Shiraki Kei nodded.
Fusu then pulled out a small piece of paper and waved it. "In that case, I have one piece of interesting intel related to you. Price: 500,000 yen. It's a grand-opening special. What do you say?"
Shiraki Kei shook his head.
Kure Fusu: "..."
Kure Fusu: "You're rejecting me that quickly?"
Shiraki Kei spread his hands helplessly. "Kure Clan intel... I'm very interested, but I'm broke. I just can't pay."
"But you refused way too fast! You should at least haggle!"
Fusu facepalmed, muttering under her breath, "I was just going to let you put it on a tab. It's not like you can pay it back anyway, and then I'd have an excuse to investigate you further. Your 'techniques' are very interesting..."
Hearing this, Shiraki Kei's eye twitched.
As hired assassins, the Kure Clan was powerful and efficient, but as an assassin family, many of them had... issues with their worldview.
For example, the Kure tradition: for over a thousand years, the Kure, born for battle, have constantly had their children absorb the "physiological seed" of famous martial artists, seeking to obtain superior genes and fighting techniques from the outside to improve their line.
One piece of info: Karura wasn't interested in him; she preferred the "Tokita Ohma" type, and would meet him one day.
Another piece of info: Fusu seemed interested in him—and she hadn't specified only his "techniques."
"You're my cousin's classmate's brother, after all. We're practically family!"
Fusu stood on her tiptoes, slinging an arm over Shiraki Kei's shoulder familiarly. "This time, you can just owe me a favor. I'll tell you the info for free."
Shiraki Kei was about to consider this, but he saw Fusu's expression suddenly turn serious as she changed the subject.
"This match—especially your opponent, [Nioh] Komada. There is no way a small-time yakuza group like the Grisly Tooth Gang can afford his appearance fee."
"What's more, this whole match is strange. If you were still sick, the outcome would be a foregone conclusion. It wouldn't even be a show—you'd be unilaterally slaughtered."
"Someone else is paying Komada's fee, and their goal isn't just to 'hold a match'."
"I've traced three involved parties: the Teiai Group, a certain Kengan Association member company, and some foreign underground faction."
Kure Fusu frowned.
"That last one is hidden the deepest. I'm not even sure it exists, it's just a 'possibility'."
"..."
Shiraki Kei rubbed his chin. "And?"
Kure Fusu knew he was asking about his opponent and continued, "As for [Nioh] Komada, he's a fighter registered with the Nogi Group. He's a Kengan rookie with a 3-0 record. He used to be on the streets, so he fights dirty."
"Given that this isn't an official Kengan match, don't rule out the possibility of him 'carrying a weapon'."
Shiraki Kei understood. He smiled, "Thanks!"
Kure Fusu smiled back. "Don't forget the favor you owe!"
Shiraki Kei was not smiling.
...
...
After a short break, the Teiai Group man in black came to lead Shiraki Kei to meet Komada.
This was the standard pre-fight face-off, and a perfect opportunity to hype the crowd.
The lights in the center of the casino went to full brightness.
Watched by over a hundred people, Shiraki Kei and Komada stood facing each other. The difference in height and build was obvious.
Shiraki Kei: 187cm, 94kg.
[Nioh] Komada Shigeru: 192cm, 121kg.
In a legitimate fighting competition, such a weight difference would make a match impossible. Not only would there be no suspense, but the audience would never accept it.
But in the underground fight world, once you step into the ring, there's no turning back!
"The organizer's pay was right, but why is my opponent a new face?"
Komada crossed his arms, frowning in confusion as he looked at Kei. "Hey, kid. Where did you used to fight?"
"At my family's dojo. I taught a children's class."
Shiraki Kei tilted his head up slightly, meeting Komada's gaze without flinching.
Hearing the answer, Komada's frown deepened. "This is your debut?!"
He sighed in contempt. "My looks, my build... the info on me is easy to find. It's obvious I'm much stronger than you. And you still dare to get in the ring?"
"Why wouldn't I dare?"
Shiraki Kei shot back, his eyes narrowing.
Perhaps feeling Komada's fighting spirit, Kei's own mind began to race. His body grew hot, and the phantom of Ryu appeared before his eyes again, throwing that same straight punch.
—The punch that Shiraki Kei still couldn't completely dodge!
Compared to that, the pressure from Komada's massive frame was nothing. He wasn't nearly as "strong" as he claimed.
Shiraki Kei was zoning out, but to Komada, his gaze looked like pure contempt.
"I see... I get it."
Komada cracked his knuckles and jutted out his chin. "Get ready to spend a long time in a hospital bed. Maybe the rest of your life."
...
...
"Komada's a veteran, alright. He really knows how to hype the crowd," Fusu remarked. She, Karura, and Arisa were watching from the sidelines.
With nothing else to do, they began explaining "Kengan fighting" and some Kure Clan basics to Arisa.
Such a calm, casual conversation was a rare sight in this underground casino.
But soon, the two cousins noticed another strangely calm area in a corner, near a mahjong table. It had an unusually high presence.
They edged closer to listen in—
"Tsumo. Chuuren Poutou. Yakuman. Thirty-two thousand points. And that's the game."
The person who called the win was a middle-aged man with silver-white hair, wearing a casual suit. His voice was deep and lazy, yet held an indescribable sharpness.
Kure Fusu and Karura glanced at him, then turned their attention to his opponent, their expressions ones of pure shock.
In this tiny underground casino, they'd run into an old acquaintance?
It was an old man with long white hair and a long beard, wearing a men's kimono. His face was deeply wrinkled and his frame was thin and small, yet he exuded a powerful, dangerous aura.
—It was the head of the Kengan Association, the "Chairman," the current dragon-head of the financial world, Katahara Metsudo!
He had deep ties with the current Kure Clan patriarch and, of course, recognized Karura and Fusu. He seemed just as surprised to see them here.
"Grandpa Metsudo!"
Karura pounced into the old man's arms. Fusu greeted him as well.
Metsudo was in high spirits. He ruffled Karura's hair like a doting elder, then waved to the man across the table, laughing.
"Hoh hoh hoh! I've lost again! I truly have no luck at mahjong!"
But the white-haired man just lit a cigarette and chuckled. "Don't be ridiculous. This was just an after-dinner diversion. We can't even call this a 'recreational game'..."
"That's also true. The original plan was just to go drinking tonight. My apologies for dragging you here to amuse this old man!"
Metsudo laughed freely, then turned to introduce the man to the three girls. "This is my drinking buddy—"
The white-haired man, a cigarette between his fingers, raised his hand.
"Akagi."
He smiled faintly, adding his full name. "Akagi Shigeru."