The media storm didn't break; it evolved.
By noon, the nickname "The Shogun" was no longer just a hashtag. It was a brand. T-shirts were already being sold in Harajuku featuring a stylized silhouette of a samurai executioner standing over a burning man. The image was grotesque, yet it was flying off the shelves.
In the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, the atmosphere was suffocating. The air conditioning struggled against the heat of thirty bodies packed into the strategy room, all sweating under the pressure of the Mayor's hourly phone calls.
Kenji sat at his desk, ignoring the chaos. He was watching a news interview on his monitor. A young woman, interviewed on the street in Shibuya, was smiling.
"I don't know." she said to the reporter.
"Kurosawa kicked my uncle out of his apartment to build a parking lot. The police didn't help. The courts didn't help. Maybe... maybe we needed someone who doesn't care about the rules."
Kenji paused the video.
"They're not scared." Manjiro said, dropping a thick file onto Kenji's desk.
"They're relieved. That's the problem."
"Fear keeps a city in check, Manjiro," Kenji rubbed his tired eyes. "When the people stop fearing the executioner and start cheering for him, the law is dead."
"Well, the law might be dead, but our next victim is still alive." Manjiro tapped the file. "I found the link."
Kenji sat up, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Show me."
Manjiro opened the file, spreading out a series of bank transfers and zoning documents.
"It took some digging through Kurosawa's shell companies." Manjiro pointed to a highlighted name. "But look at the dates. Every time Kurosawa needed a zoning permit for the Chiba project, a 'consulting fee' was paid to a firm called Future Tokyo Solutions."
"Who owns Future Tokyo?" Kenji asked.
"It's a dummy corp." Manjiro said.
"Registered in the Caymans. But the signatory for the bank account? It traces back to a private secretary."
Manjiro flipped the page to reveal a photo of a smiling, handsome man in a sharp suit, shaking hands with the Prime Minister.
"Councilman Ryosuke Takeda." Kenji read the name.
"The 'Prince of Planning'." Manjiro nodded grimly. "He's the Vice Chairman of the Urban Development Committee. He signed the order that re-zoned the Chiba farmland from 'Agricultural' to 'Industrial Waste'. He literally turned rice fields into garbage dumps with a pen stroke."
"And he got paid for it..." Kenji traced the line of money on the paper. "Kurosawa paid him to legalize the theft of the land."
Kenji stood up, walking to his corkboard. He looked at the two tags: Greed and Oppression.
"Suzuki was the money," Kenji muttered.
"Kurosawa was the force. Takeda... Takeda was the betrayal."
"Betrayal?"
"He's an elected official, Manjiro. He swore an oath to protect the people. Instead, he sold them out for a consulting fee." Kenji turned to face his partner. "In the killer's code, that's not just corruption. That's Theft. He stole the public trust."
"And the punishment for theft..." Manjiro trailed off, remembering their conversation from the morning.
"Boiling," Kenji said. "Kama-yude."
"We have to get to him," Manjiro grabbed his jacket. "If the Shogun is following the list, Takeda is already marked."
1:15 PM. The Takeda Campaign Office, Shinjuku.
The office was a shrine to Ryosuke Takeda's ambition. Posters of his smiling face covered every wall, accompanied by slogans like "A Cleaner Tokyo" and "Tradition Meets Future."
When Kenji and Manjiro flashed their badges, the campaign manager, a nervous man named Satoru, tried to block them.
"The Councilman is in a very important strategy meeting." Satoru stammered, adjusting his glasses. "He cannot be disturbed."
"Unless he wants to be the star of a snuff film, he needs to be disturbed." Kenji said, pushing past the man. "Where is he?"
"He... he's not here." Satoru admitted, his shoulders sagging. "He canceled the meeting an hour ago. He seemed... agitated."
"Agitated how?" Manjiro pressed.
"Paranoid. He was watching the news about Kurosawa. He kept muttering about 'loose ends.' He told his driver to go home. He took a taxi."
"Where did he go?" Kenji demanded.
"He didn't say. But... he took his gym bag. The leather one."
"Gym bag?" Kenji frowned. "Is he a member of a club?"
"No, he hates the gym," Satoru said. "But when he gets stressed, he goes to the bathhouse. He says it's the only place he can think."
Kenji froze.
"Bathhouse?" Kenji repeated slowly.
"Which one?"
"The Silken Springs in Ginza," Satoru said. "It's very exclusive. He has a private suite."
Kenji looked at Manjiro. The color drained from Manjiro's face.
"Water." Manjiro whispered. "Hot water."
"He's walking right into the pot." Kenji turned and ran for the door. "Move! Call Hideo! Tell him we need a tac-team at the Silken Springs now!"
1:45 PM. Ginza District.
The sirens wailed, cutting through the dense afternoon traffic. Kenji drove with white-knuckled intensity, forcing the sedan through gaps that barely existed.
"He's been gone for an hour," Manjiro said, checking his watch. "If he's in a private suite, he's alone."
"The killer knows..." Kenji said, slamming the steering wheel. "He knows Takeda's habits. He's been watching them for months. He knew Kurosawa would be at the construction site. He knew Suzuki would be home."
"You think he's waiting for him at the bathhouse?"
"I think he's already there."
They screeched to a halt in front of The Silken Springs. It was an oasis of calm in the chaotic city a beautiful wooden structure with bamboo privacy screens. Steam rose gently from the vents, smelling of sulfur and lavender.
To anyone else, it looked relaxing. To Kenji, it looked like different.
They burst into the lobby, weapons drawn.
The receptionist screamed and dropped the phone.
"Police!" Manjiro shouted.
"Ryosuke Takeda! What room?"
"S-Suite 4!" she pointed a trembling finger down the hallway. "The Cypress Room!"
Kenji didn't wait. He sprinted down the corridor, the smell of humidity and heat growing stronger with every step.
"Suite 1... Suite 2..."
They reached Suite 4. The "Do Not Disturb" sign hung from the handle.
Kenji tried the door. Locked.
"Manjiro!"
Manjiro stepped back and kicked the door right next to the lock. Wood splintered. He kicked again, and the sliding door flew off its track.
They stormed in.
A wall of white steam hit them. It was suffocatingly hot, far hotter than a normal sauna. The air burned their lungs.
"Takeda!" Kenji yelled, squinting through the fog. "Police!"
Silence. Only the aggressive, violent bubbling of water.
Kenji moved forward, waving his hand to clear the steam. He found the central tub. It was a massive, circular vessel made of cypress wood.
The lid was closed. A heavy iron bar had been placed across it, locked with a padlock.
"The lid!" Kenji shouted.
They grabbed the iron bar. It was hot to the touch. They pulled, but it was solid.
"Shoot it!" Kenji ordered.
Manjiro fired a single round into the padlock. It shattered. They wrenched the bar off and threw the lid open. Steam exploded upward. Kenji braced himself for the sight of a boiled body.
But the water was empty.
It was boiling furiously, churning like a witch's cauldron, but there was no Councilman Takeda inside.
"He's not here." Manjiro coughed, shining his light into the water.
"Look." Kenji pointed to the bench.
Takeda's clothes were there. His suit, folded neatly. His watch. And his phone.
"He undressed.." Kenji said. "He was here."
Then, a noise. A rhythmic thump... thump... thump.
It was coming from the closet in the corner.
Kenji moved to the closet, weapon raised. He grabbed the handle and yanked it open.
Tumbled out onto the floor was Ryosuke
Takeda. He was alive.
He was naked, red-faced from the heat, and bound hand and foot with zip ties. His mouth was gagged with a cloth. He scrambled backward, eyes wide with terror, staring at the boiling tub.
Manjiro rushed to cut the ties. Takeda gasped, sucking in the cooler air from the hallway.
"He... he was here..." Takeda sobbed. "The mask... the demon..."
"Who?" Kenji grabbed Takeda's shoulders.
"Did you see him?"
"He was waiting." Takeda stammered. "In the steam. He put a knife to my throat. He told me... he told me to watch."
"Watch what?"
Takeda pointed a shaking hand at the boiling tub. Kenji walked back to the water. He looked closer.
Floating in the boiling water were papers. Dozens of them. They were dissolving into pulp, the ink bleeding into the water, turning it black.
"My ledgers." Takeda whispered. "The offshore accounts. The deeds. The bribes. He... he boiled them."
Kenji looked at the wall above the tub.
Pinned to the cypress wood with a small throwing knife was a note.
Kenji pulled it down. The paper was damp, but the ink held.
"A thief who loses his gold is just a beggar.
The water waits.
But first, the world must know."
"He didn't want to kill him yet," Kenji realized, a cold dread settling in his stomach. "He wanted to destroy his cover. He boiled the evidence of his wealth."
"Kenji." Manjiro called out, holding Takeda's phone. "You need to see this."
Manjiro turned the phone screen toward Kenji. It was open to Twitter.
A new post from an anonymous account, uploaded two minutes ago.
It was a photo. A high-resolution scan of Takeda's secret ledger - the one now dissolving in the tub. It showed every bribe, every payoff, every illegal zoning change.
And the caption read:
#TheShogun: The Thief has been stripped. Judgment is coming.
"He leaked it." Manjiro said. "He didn't just boil the papers. He digitized them first. Takeda is ruined."
Kenji looked at the sobbing politician on the floor. Takeda wasn't dead, but his life was over. The career he built on lies was gone.
"This is worse than murder for a man like him." Kenji said softly. "Shame."
"But the note.." Manjiro pointed to the paper in Kenji's hand. "It says 'The water waits.' That implies..."
"That implies he's not done." Kenji crumpled the note. "He destroyed Takeda's reputation today. But the physical punishment? The Boiling?"
Kenji looked at the churning water.
"That's still coming."
Chapter 6 End - Kenji will able to save Takeda?