The sun had set, plunging Tokyo back into a humid, neon-streaked darkness.
Kenji Sano and Manjiro Tenken were still parked by the bay, the silence in the car heavy with their pact. They were no longer waiting for a police dispatcher to tell them where to go. They were waiting for the monster to invite them.
At 19:42 PM, Manjiro's phone lit up.
The screen was cracked, but the message was clear. It came from an unknown number.
THE LAW IS DEAD.
BUT THE LEGACY REMAINS.
PARK COURT SHIBA-KOEN. PENTHOUSE.
ICHIRO TANAKA.
"We were right." Manjiro said, his voice tight. "He's targeting the bloodline. Ichiro Tanaka. The Prosecutor. The Judge's son."
"Shiba-Koen." Kenji started the engine, the tires spinning on the loose gravel. "That's right next to the Tokyo Tower. He's moving toward the center."
"Why tell us?" Manjiro racked his shotgun. "Why give us the address before he kills him? He usually sends us to the body."
"Because he wants us to witness it." Kenji slammed the car into gear, peeling onto the service road. "He wants to show us that even if we know who, and where, and when... we are still powerless."
20:00 PM. Park Court Shiba-Koen.
The luxury apartment building soared thirty stories into the night sky, a monolith of glass and steel overlooking the Shiba Park. The massive, glowing orange structure of the Tokyo Tower loomed directly behind it, casting long shadows over the balconies.
Kenji didn't bother with the main entrance. He drove the sedan onto the sidewalk, smashing through the security bollard arm. He screeched to a halt in front of the glass lobby doors.
"Go!" Kenji roared.
They burst out of the car. The doorman, a terrified older man, backed away, hands up.
"Police!" Manjiro shouted, flashing his badge habit dying hard. "Penthouse! Now!"
"The... the elevator is locked." the doorman stammered. "Biometric access only."
"Not anymore." Kenji vaulted the caretaker desk. He grabbed the emergency override key hanging on the wall.
They ran to the elevators. Kenji jammed the key in and turned it. The doors slid open.
"Thirty floors." Manjiro said, watching the numbers tick up. He was sweating. "Do you think he's already there?"
"He sent the text twenty minutes ago." Kenji checked his watch. "He's there."
The elevator hummed. Ding. Ding. Ding.
Kenji gripped his Sig Sauer. He thumbed the safety off. He wasn't thinking about procedure. He wasn't thinking about rights. He was thinking about the bullet he was going to put in the Shogun's head.
Ding. Floor 30.
The doors opened directly into the penthouse foyer.
It was silent.
The apartment was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the Tokyo Tower. The lights were dimmed.
"Clear," Manjiro whispered, stepping out.
Kenji moved left, sweeping the hallway. "Ichiro! Police!"
No answer.
They moved deeper into the apartment. The smell hit them. Not blood. Not yet.
Chloroform.
"Living room." Kenji signaled.
They rounded the corner into the main living area.
The scene was set.
In the center of the room, tied to a heavy Italian leather chair, sat Ichiro Tanaka. He was a handsome man in his thirties, wearing a tailored suit. Now, he was gagged with duct tape, his eyes wide with terror, sweat pouring down his face.
And standing behind him, leaning casually against the back of the chair, was the killer.
He wasn't wearing the armor. He wasn't wearing the mask.
For the first time, the Shogun was bare-faced.
Kenji froze, his gun leveled at the man's chest.
He expected to see a monster. He expected to see a scarred veteran, or a known criminal from the database.
He saw a kid.
The killer was young. Maybe twenty-five or twenty-six. He had sharp, angular features, dark hair that fell messily over his forehead, and a lean, athletic build. He wore a simple grey hoodie.
He looked like a university student. He looked like someone Kenji would pass on the subway without a second glance.
But his eyes were different. They were pitch black, empty of any light or empathy. They were the eyes of a shark.
"Don't move!" Kenji shouted. "Let him go!"
The young man didn't flinch. He smiled. It wasn't a nervous smile. It was cold.
"You made good time, Detective." the killer said. His voice was soft, calm. "But you are still breathless."
"I said let him go!" Kenji shouted, taking a step closer. "We see your face! It's over! We will identify you!"
"My face?" The killer chuckled. "Does it matter? You don't know me."
Kenji stared at him. He searched his memory frantically. Who is this?
He had studied the files of the Chiba fire for weeks. He knew the victims. He knew the perpetrators. He knew the Akiyama couple.
But this face? It was a blank slate. A stranger.
"I don't need to know your name to kill you." Kenji growled. "Step away from the chair."
"If you shoot," the killer whispered, pressing a knife against Ichiro's throat. "you hit the fruit. The legacy dies."
Ichiro whimpered into the gag, thrashing against the ropes.
"Why?" Kenji asked, keeping his aim steady. "Ichiro is a prosecutor! He upholds the law!"
"He upholds the laws his father sold." the killer said. "He lives in a penthouse bought with bribes. The tree is rotten, Detective. You cannot save the branch when the root is poisoned."
"I'm not here to debate philosophy." Kenji said, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Manjiro, take the shot if you have it."
"I can't," Manjiro hissed. "he's using him as a shield."
The killer looked at the window. The Tokyo Tower loomed huge and bright outside, filling the glass.
"This is not the stage." the killer said. "This is just the dressing room."
"There is no stage!" Kenji lunged forward. "It ends here!"
The killer moved with terrifying speed.
He kicked the back of the chair, sending Ichiro in an uncontrollable way toward Kenji. Kenji had to dodge to avoid the collision.
In that split second, the killer grabbed Ichiro by the collar, slashed the ropes binding his legs, and dragged him toward the balcony doors.
"Stop!" Kenji scrambled up.
The killer shattered the glass door with the handle of his knife. CRASH.
The wind roared into the apartment, cold and violent.
The killer dragged Ichiro out onto the balcony. They were thirty floors up.
Kenji and Manjiro rushed to the broken door, weapons raised.
"There's nowhere to go!" Kenji shouted, stepping onto the balcony. "You're trapped! Surrender!"
The killer stood on the edge of the railing. He held Ichiro by the neck, hanging the prosecutor over the abyss. Ichiro screamed, a high, thin sound lost in the wind.
"The edge is not a wall, Detective." the killer shouted over the wind. "It is a bridge."
He looked at Kenji one last time. The young, stranger's face was illuminated by the orange glow of the Tokyo Tower. He looked serene.
"I will see you at the spire." the killer said.
Then, he leaned back.
"NO!" Kenji screamed, dropping his gun and lunging for them.
His fingers grazed the fabric of the killer's hoodie, but he grabbed only air.
The killer fell backward off the balcony, dragging Ichiro Tanaka with him into the void.
Kenji gripped the railing, looking down, expecting to see them smash onto the pavement.
ZIIIIIIIIP.
A high-pitched scream cut through the wind.
Kenji squinted. A thin, high-tensile black cable had been rigged from the penthouse railing, stretching across the dark gap of the park below.
The killer had clipped a carabiner (safety link used by rock climbers) to the line before he jumped.
Kenji watched in helpless rage as two shapes one holding the other slid rapidly down the zipline, disappearing into the thick canopy of trees at the base of the Tokyo Tower.
"He rigged it." Manjiro gasped, leaning over the rail. "He knew we'd come. He knew we'd chase him to the balcony."
"He didn't jump." Kenji whispered, his hands shaking. "He flew."
They watched the shadows vanish into the park. The killer had escaped. And he had taken the victim with him.
"He has him." Manjiro said. "He has Ichiro."
Kenji stared at the Tokyo Tower. The massive orange structure looked like a giant, glowing needle piercing the heart of the city.
"He said 'the spire'." Kenji said. " 'I will see you at the spire.' "
Kenji turned around, running back into the apartment.
"Where are we going?" Manjiro followed.
"The Tower." Kenji shouted, picking up his gun. "He's taking him to the Tower. That's the finale."
"But who was he?" Manjiro asked as they ran for the elevator. "Did you recognize him?"
"No," Kenji said, frustration boiling in his veins. "I've never seen him before in my life. Just a kid. A twenty-something kid with dead eyes."
"Could it be a relative? A hired gun?"
"I don't know." Kenji hit the lobby button. Kenji checked his magazine. Full. But found nothing. Kenji was full of thougts 'How come a kid do this much? How the kid hold this much hate?'
"I don't care what his name is.." Kenji said as the doors closed. "Tonight, he dies."
Chapter 30 Ends - Finale closes??