Hakata Tonkotsu Ramens Volume 3 Chapter 1

Warnings: Mentions of Rape & Graphic Imagery.

"So I told my client that '500 was fine.' Not 5,000,000 – 500 yen."

Xianming Lin entered the room with his shoes on and looked over the man with a scornful gaze.

"Just 500 yen, you know? That means the lives of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds like you are only worth that much. Do you understand?"

The man did not hide his confusion. "Ha? No, what? Who are you?"

"A killer."

Lin answered him plainly and took out his preferred weapon – a Chinese knife pistol. He was accustomed to the grip of it in his hand. Now then, it's time to get to work. He first cut the man's tendon in his heel to prevent him from moving. The man gave a yell and fell to the floor.

"You guys are the absolute worst. You guys ganged up on a female customer and raped her? And I heard you guys even took a video and threatened that you would upload it to the internet if she said anything to the police, am I right?"

The female college student – the victim in this incident – had only went out to eat at a restaurant. And the male workers there a.s.saulted her there. They did not care that it was during working hours; they had locked the restaurant, closed the curtains, and shockingly gang raped their customer. It was a brutal, inhumane act.

Lin looked down at the man and spat. "I'm thoroughly disgusted by s.h.i.ts like you."

The victim had a taste of h.e.l.l. However, she did not have the courage to report to the police. Even if the culprits were captured, they would just be released one day yet again. She was afraid of retribution and could not even cry herself to sleep over it.

And with the video in their hands as a means of extortion, she could still meet the same fate again. The men who hurt her were still living nearby, carefree. Unable to bear with her situation, she became mentally ill and was unable to take a step out of her home. The victim's father, witnessing her agony, approached him with the job.

"Her father came to me crying. He told me he'd pay any amount necessary to kill all of you sc.u.m."

He painfully understood the feelings of the victim's family. His sister met with a similar fate. Lin, having been told of this job from a mediator, accepted it with a simple response. He told them it would be 500 yen for each person.

"It would've been great if you were caught by the police and sentenced to death." Lin got close to the man's face as he sat there slumped on the ground before continuing. "If you just went to prison, you'd just get off of there in a few years, right? You'd come back and just do the same thing again. You're the same as a psychopath. You guys are an illness. It'd be better for society to have you die here."

After he flicked open his knife, the man paled. He shook his head bit by bit.

"N-no. Please don't -"

As if I wouldn't, idiot. "I don't want to hear your hypocrisy. When she told you to stop, did you?"

The man's expression wavered at Lin's words. He looked like he was about to cry now.

Servers you right. Lin's lips curled into a smile. "So that's just how it is, you see."

The culprits were all three men who worked as part-timers. This man was the one who filmed it, and Lin knew the recorded data was kept in his home thanks to the informant.

"Hey, sc.u.mbag. Where is it? The data for the video?"
Just as he crushed his other leg the man told him the hidden area where the data was at. It was somewhere more simple than he expected. He was not satisfied enough, so he stuck a needle underneath his fingernails, sliced off the skin on his stomach, and castrated him with a kitchen knife for the final finishing touch. He took photos of the man's belongings on hand with a camera from beginning to end and handed over the data to the victim's father. He then did the same act of revenge to the other two culprits.

The job only earned him 1500 yen for the day, but he was satisfied. Lin pa.s.sed through the Chikushi exit at the JR Hakata Station on quick feet and arrived to the usual street. After walking ten minutes from the station, the characters 'Banba Detective Office' on the window of the apartment building's third floor came into view.

"Ah, Lin-chan, welcome home."

When he opened the door to the office he heard the voice of his roommate, Zenji Banba. He had quite the cheerful att.i.tude, inappropriate for greeting a man who just killed three people. Lin relaxed.

He ignored it, but as he was went inside these words were said. "Where's the 'I'm home' now? Didn't they teach you how to greet someone in school?"

"Not at all."

He did not go to school that much in the first place.

"Where did ya go? You put on such a short skirt and came back early in the mornin'. Dontcha tell me you were out hangin' at some strange club, right?"

"……Shut up. Are you trying to be my mother?" He denied it, giving a sigh.

"As if I would go out somewhere. It was work."

Banba had the newspaper spread open. It was the local paper for western j.a.pan. His eyes caught the header, 'Illegal Club Exposed.' Was he referring to this when he mentioned a weird club?

Other disturbed t.i.tles were on the front of the paper: 'A Body – Killed by Poison – Found in Hakata Bay. Is It a Systematic Offense?', 'Imposter Phone Call Fraud – Multiple Damages in f.u.kuoka,' 'A Mail-Order Firm Leaked 1,000,000 Client Information. A Temporary Worker Has Been Arrested.'  The world is filled with never ending crimes. He lamented.  Well, it's not like I'm qualified to make comments like that. Lin ridiculed himself.

He leaned back into the sofa and turned on the TV. It was about time for the sports news.

'Player Cabrera has made a record of 605 home runs this past season, making him number one in professional baseball history. And he is actively pushing for it as well in this current season.'

The announcer talked excitingly.

'At last night's game they managed to hit two home runs, and presently he is far away at the top of both leagues! They have been lined up in his record from last year.'

The commenters on the TV were also giving praise to the player together.

"605. That's amazin'." Banba muttered in admiration. He then folded the newspaper quickly and stood up. "I can't fall behind, so I'm fixin' to go to the battin' cage."

"And how are you going to compete with that……?" Lin sighed. You're just a gra.s.slot baseball player.

Banba finished making his arrangements in a hurry and closed the door.

"I'm off."

Lin called out to him while carrying the bat case on his back. "Ah, that's right. We're out of toilet paper. Buy it on your way back."

Banba had asked him, "Where's the 'take care' now?" However, he ignored it.

Shunsuke Saruwatari.

It had been two months since he joined the baseball team at a veteran school. Around the time the first year student was cutting corners for the daily practices, tired of muscle training and playing fetch, Naoya Nitta came to know of that man.

Saruwatari was a strange person.

The first aspect to note was that he ran faster than anyone in running. He sprinted as fast as he could go as though it was a short distance race. Every time they practiced swinging the bat or were doing muscle training he would try to catch more b.a.l.l.s than anyone. He even pushed aside other first years that were in the direction the ball was flying towards to catch it.

What a strange guy, Nitta had thought.

What is he so desperate for? If he loosened up he could live with less stress. Nitta felt something close to an odd impatience as he watched that reckless, single-minded Saruwatari with a cold gaze.

Saruwatari must be antic.i.p.ating for the coach to notice him. 'I'm practicing real hard. I have a fighting spirit, so please use me.' Perhaps he was going all out to appeal to him. He's stupid. It's not like anyone is really watching.

So he had thought, but apparently that was not the case. He learned that Saruwatari simply hated losing a few days later.

That day the first years were allowed to play in a game. Although it was more accurately a compet.i.tion between the second years and the first years. The game was limited to three innings. The team members were put on defensive positions as according to their coach's designation. The goal was to also evaluate the first years' true abilities in this game. They did not have many opportunities to go up to bat or to take defensive positions, but since they had one they had to impress their coach.

'Next, Nitta.' Nitta's name was called for the second match. 'You'll be the catcher.'

Nitta had always been a catcher since he was in elementary school and middle school. He gave a short response and put on his protective gear.

The next one to be called was that man.

'Saruwatari.' The coach addressed the first year in the line. 'How about you try to pitch.'

So that man Saruwatari was a pitcher? He had not expected they would end up being batterymates. This was a strange occurrence.

The other team was the first to bat.

Nitta approached Saruwatari as he was soothing down the mound with his feet.

'I can't pitch anything but fastb.a.l.l.s.'

As he was about to check up with him about the types of pitches and signs they could go for Saruwatari had made that statement.

He did not mean he could not throw them; he had no intention to throw any other pitches. He had that peculiar self-confidence in his tone. He's even more strange, he thought. If he could throw other kinds of pitches he would appeal more to their coach by showing them here. He attempted to explain that to him, but Saruwatari was stubbornly fixated on the fastb.a.l.l.s.

What shocked him more was that Saruwatari was a submarine man – underhand pitcher.

He had caught several of his pitches in pitching practices, but there was a smooth movement to Saruwatari's straight b.a.l.l.s. He felt they were faster than actual fastb.a.l.l.s. He would lift up his right leg, drop it back down while taking a step forward and bend over. His arm would whip out and release the ball just barely above the ground with an underside throw. To manage pitching such a fast ball with that rare form must be difficult to accomplish the timing.

The first batter entered the batter's box. The game began.

Their opponents were second year students. Meanwhile they were a team of nine new members gathered in a rush who had done nothing but fitch for practice. He saw what the end result would be from the very beginning. The game was terrible. Error, error, error. The third baseman let the grounder pa.s.s between his feet, the shortstop made a poor pa.s.s, and the right fielder made a foul fly. And the pitcher Saruwatari had consecutive foul b.a.l.l.s. In no time at all they were down by six points. In just one inning Nitta had to run over to the mound three times.

This is going to be a long turn at defense. Nitta prepared himself for it, but Saruwatari's pitches started to get better. His control and aim gradually became steady, and he finally got the hang of his true potential. In the third inning he managed a splendid clean up, giving the team three strikes consecutively.

However, the difference in ability to the rest of the team was apparent. For their offense, only Nitta managed to earn them a point with a solo home run, so the end score was nine to one – a huge defeat. 'Well, that is to be expected.' Nitta thought as he returned to home base. He already foresaw their loss, so he was not very bitter over it. It was expected they would lose here. This game from the beginning was a rite of pa.s.sage where famous group of teams from other regions gathered to crush the excessively conceited first year students' pride. They meant to discourage them and have them learn to brace themselves. So they only needed to try this much. That was what he thought.

However, Saruwatari thought differently.

As the next game began to take place on the field, Nitta had headed to the washroom to wash his face. He spotted Saruwatari there.

s.h.i.t, Saruwatari howled. The next moment he threw his glove with an underthrow at the school building wall. He could feel the frustration he could not hold in pouring off of him. This man appeared to despise losing.

'What are you doing?'

When Nitta called out to him, Saruwatari turned around to face him quickly. After he stared with wide eyes for a moment, he glared him down. His face was red, burning up in frustration and bitterness.

Nitta reached down to pick up the glove he threw. It was a well-used glove manufactured domestically, and it was drenched in sweat and covered in white sand.

'You have to take good care of your equipment.'

His coach he had when he was in a junior team in elementary school always said that. 'Your baseball equipment was a part of your body. Anyone who did not handle their equipment with care had no qualifications to play baseball.' He thought that as well. Throwing his glove at a wall was unacceptable.

Nitta picked up the glove and handed it over to Saruwatari. 'Here, handle it with care now.'

'……And who are you?' Saruwatari bared his teeth. He had a unique accent to his speech. 'You're pretty f.u.c.king annoying.'

Hey, I don't get any thanks even though I picked it up for you? Nitta smiled bitterly.

Saruwatari did not seem satisfied based off of the att.i.tude he had been giving him, but Nitta decided to offer him comforting words. Backing up the pitcher was also the catcher's role.

'Today's match couldn't have gone any better. None of us have been able to hold the ball recently, and our game sense was weak. Our backup was worn out too. But I don't think your pitches were bad though.'

'……Couldn't have gone better, you say?' Saruwatari glared at him with a sharp gaze. 'Did you just say we couldn't have been better?'

Should I not have said that? When he tilted his head, Saruwatari continued imperiously.

'There ain't no such thing as a hopeless game. I'm gonna become a pro someday and be the best pitcher in j.a.pan, so I can't lose to the likes of high schoolers.'

I see, so the reason he wasn't going to pitch anything but straights was for that reason? He wanted to hold those high schoolers back with just fastbals. If he could not accomplish that then he could not become a professional. He set that bar for himself.

To become a pro was everyone's dream on their team. But even for those who want to become one, there were also those who began to secretly believe it may be out of their league. It was difficult enough to appear in Koshien let alone enter the professional world. Nitta felt that way. As such, he felt slightly envious of this man who was able to talk about his dream without embarra.s.sment.

'It was my fault for the grounders today. If I made them all get three strikes then we would have won.'

Nitta was taken aback at his response.

Take all of them out on his own? That is absolutely impossible. Baseball is not a sport for one person to play. Why is he a fielder then?

And yet, he meant what he was saying. He was telling him this with completely honest eyes. This man is unreasonable.

At the same time he considered him intriguing.

'…….Haha, ahaha.'

He accidently slipped a laugh. He's amusing. This is too hilarious. Nitta laughed, wrapping his arms around his stomach. This is the first time I've seen an idiot like him.

'Ah?' Saruwatari was sullen. 'And what the h.e.l.l is so funny to you, b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'

'No, nothing is. Ahaha.'

'Are you making me out as a fool?!'

Nitta waved his hand and dismissed it.

'No, not that. I just thought that you are great.'

'……Ha?'

'Seriously, you're the best.'

He was laughing so hard tears were forming.

'But I will mention one thing.' Nitta told him while wiping the corners of his eyes with his finger. 'If the catcher turns away, then no one would get three strikes.'

No matter how many fast straight b.a.l.l.s or curved b.a.l.l.s Saruwatari pitched, without anyone to catch them no one could take a batter out. Without a capable catcher who would not miss those pitches, there would be no way he could throw to first base to achieve three strikes.

'You have to trust in your allies too. At the very least, I'd like you to have faith in me.'

Saruwatari made an unimpressed expression and tutted. '……You can shut up.'

He truly is fascinating. If it's with this man, I may be able to aim for something higher. For Koshien or even further. That was how he felt. He had that sort of att.i.tude to make him feel that way.

'Hey, Sarucchi.'

When he called him by the over-familiar nickname, Saruwatari had scowled. 'What the h.e.l.l is Sarucchi, tch.'

'See? You did it.' Nitta pointed to his face. 'Since you say nothing but tch, tch, tch, you're Sarucchi.'

'Haa? Drop that nickname.'

Nevertheless, Nitta did not.

'Let's win next time, Sarucchi.'

After Saruwatari glanced at him he huffed in annoyance.

A blue sedan that was made domestically sped down the three-lane national highway. Nitta drove the vehicle towards their destination relatively quickly.

Saruwatari was sitting in the pa.s.senger's seat. He was of the same grade as him in high school and a teammate of the same baseball team. He was slightly taller and his hair was longer than that time, but his face as he looked out the window in boredom still had traces from then.

The two had a relationship as a pitcher and catcher in their high school days, yet how they ended up working together as a hitman and a killer consultant happened a few weeks prior. What a strange fate, Nitta thought to himself.

They were heading to meet their client at the moment. They would discuss with the organization which showed interest in Saruwatari at length. The party specified to meet at a park in the center ward of f.u.kuoka.

"Now try and not to be rude with them."

Nitta began to talk about the job while he sped up the car to make it to their meeting on time, but there was no response from Saruwatari. He had not been paying attention at all.

"Hey, Sarucchi."

He stepped on the brakes and said his name in a slightly louder voice. While he waited for the light, he turned to face Saruwatari.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Not at all." Saruwatari replied to him while still looking out the window, not even stifling his yawn.

"You're kidding me."

He sighed. Guess I have to explain from the beginning again.

"You've been s.p.a.cing out quite a bit. You're still thinking about that previous game, aren't you?"

He heard no reply from Saruwatari. He hit the mark.

Nitta and Saruwatari belonged to a gra.s.slot baseball team based in Kitakyushu. Their positions were, as usual, Nitta as the catcher and Saruwatari as the pitcher.

Last week their team partic.i.p.ated in a tournament in f.u.kuoka prefecture. Their opponent for the first match was a f.u.kuoka team called the Hakata Tonkotsu Ramens. It was primarily a pitchers' battle packed with an unbelievable strong defense but poor batting, but the balance fell apart at the last half. At the bottom of eighth inning with zero to zero points, the Ramens' third batter managed to hit a preempt solo home run. He hit the straight ball with all his strength in a full swing, and it went into the stands. It was a line drive.

"I get you're bitter over it, but we won in the end by coming from behind."

Offering him encouraging words like 'we won the game' had no effect on this man. "It ain't. Fine." Saruwatari spat.

After that their team made a come back due to Nitta's home run and managed to obtain victory, but Saruwatari exploded in dissatisfaction. Saruwatari's tendency to get bitter was no different from back then. If Nitta had not stopped him he would have continued striking the benches or the other nine members.

"……Do you know that second baseman?"

Saruwatari had shown a strange attachment to the Ramens' Zenji Banba. They must have some sort of connection, but Saruwatari denied it.

"Not really."

He figured he was lied. "Well, it doesn't matter to me." Nitta gave a bitter smile and decided to focus on driving.

"Ah."

Just as he was making a right turn across the intersection, Saruwatari had suddenly raised his voice.

"Hey, stop the car."

"Eh? Why?"

"Just listen and stop."

He was well aware he was a man who would not listen to anything else. Nitta unwillingly parked the car on the shoulder of the road.

"What's up all the sudden?"

"I spotted a batting center."

He could see a batting center a few meters ahead of them. They seemed to have a s.p.a.ce for pitching practice as well.

Saruwatari took off his seat belt and opened the car door. "I'm going to go pitch for a bit."

"Eh? No, you can't. What are you saying?" He hastily grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "We're heading for work right now. We don't have time to go astray."

"You can go by yourself. I'll hear about it later from you."

"Are you serious right now?"

He sighed again. As usual, he was a selfish man. It would be impossible to stop him.

"Are you that bothered you were beaten? You have quite the strange obsession with him. Something happened between you and that man Banba, right?"

"There ain't nothing much to it!" Saruwatari was irritated. I hit the nail on the head. He's so easy to read. As usual he can't lie to others or himself.

Nitta called out to him once more after he got out of the car.

"Don't break your legs from overdoing it. For a killer their body is their capital, so take care of yourself, alright?"

He received an answer from Saruwatari that indicated he did not comprehend it at all, "I got it."

Guess I should take a nap. Lin had just turned off the TV and laid down onto the sofa when he heard three knocks on the office door. It was a reserved and eloquent sound.

Someone had come. He sluggishly got up and headed to the entrance. After he unlocked it and opened the door a woman stood there. She was wearing a white one piece dress and held a black sun umbrella in her right hand.

"h.e.l.lo."

The woman smiled gently.

Lin was shocked at their rare guest – well, it was rare in of itself for a guest to appear at the Banba Detective Office.

He stared at the guest closely. She had no particular, unique facial features. Her eyes, nose, and lips were neither large or small. Yet she was beautiful. She seemed to be in her late twenties. He recalled that her name was Sayuri. She was an acquaintance of Banba's, but to an extend, Lin's as well since he had exchanged a few words with her at their gra.s.slot baseball match.

"……h.e.l.lo." Lin greeted her, unchivalrous.

She was graceful and had the look of someone who could not even kill a bug, but she was skilled in his trade as well. He heard from Banba she was skilled enough to a.s.sa.s.sinate the top of the Kakyuu Group, w.a.n.g Fang Lang, with ease.

"Is Zenji here?"

"Zenji?" Ahh, she means Banba. "He's out at the moment."

Banba had said he was going to the batting center and left the office an hour ago.

Is that so? Sayuri had whispered and made a slightly troubled expression.

"Well, I think he should be back soon." Lin jerked his chin in gesture. "Want to wait inside?"

"Is it alright?"

"I don't really care."

"Thank you." Sayuri smiled brightly. She was beautiful with a smile too. He unconsciously was charmed by her.

He invited her in and had her sit on the sofa.

"We don't have anything but oolong tea."

"That's fine."

He handed over the tea he poured into a cup. "Here you go."

Considering he should let the man they were waiting on, he tried to call Banba. The dialing kept going. He could not get in touch with him. After a while, the guidance to the answering machine began to play. It was the same regardless of how many times he called him.

"Hey, it's me." He unwillingly left a voicemail. "You have a guest here, so hurry up and come back."

They had won the match, but he had lost the fight.

The infamous killer of killers, the Niwaka Samurai – the man by the name Zenji Banba was the second baseman of the Ramens'. He had lost to that man. For his main occupation they had settled with a tie, but he had two consecutive defeats. He lost to their death match and he could not hit a home run. Surely, he had not trained enough. How he was right now was not enough. He had to surpa.s.s his current self or else he would not be able to beat that man. So he had to throw better.

The batting center Saruwatari visited only had five old machines set up. Home plate and the batter's box were part.i.tioned off by a green net. At the first end there was only one different colored booth. It was the strikeout area for pitchers to use that Saruwatari had his eyes on. Eighteen to forty-four meters ahead of him there were signs with the numbers one to nine written on them. The game was to hit those planks with the b.a.l.l.s.

There was only one other person there besides Saruwatari. It was a man. He was in the center batting booth and hitting back the baseb.a.l.l.s the machine was firing 120 kilometers away.

When he saw the man's face Saruwatari was taken aback.

"Ah! It's you!"

He unconsciously yelled.

It was that man. The Niwaka Samurai, Zenji Banba.

"……Hm?" Banba turned around and noticed Saruwatari. "Ah, you're that ninja with no control."

"Who the h.e.l.l has no control, stupid face!"

He had no idea he would meet with him here. However, this was convenient. He did not have to waste time searching for him. Saruwatari jerked with his chin. "Come out against me. I'll pay you what I owe."

"Pay me?" Banba looked away from Saruwatari and back to the machine. "……Ahh, I don't care 'bout that. You don't have to."

He turned sullen getting lightly brushed off like that. "Ah? What the h.e.l.l are you sayin', you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Sorry, but I'd like to be in private. Leave me be."

Banba was completely invested into batting. He showed no ounce of interest in Saruwatari. His behavior frustrated him. Dammit, Saruwatari tutted. How dare that s.h.i.tty b.a.s.t.a.r.d ignore me.

There was the sound of a clash, and a baseball flew out of the machine. Banba swung the bat. He hit the ball back. He did not hit it dead on, so there was just the clear sound of the ball being hit.

"Ha," Seeing that, Saruwatari laughed to ridicule him. "Too bad."

For a moment, Banba looked over at him with a sullen expression. However, he moved his gaze back again and waited for the next pitch. He swung the bat once more, but he failed on fully hitting it again. The ball dropped down with not much force behind it.

Saruwatari murmured loud enough so the other could hear him. "That was a sloppy, grounder to the shortstop aannnd a double-play."

"……Shut up."

It did not appear Banba could ignore him this time. He grimaced and said that back to him. Saruwatari felt better that his meager teasing worked. He snorted and put a hundred yen coin into the strikeout machine. He grabbed the baseball and looked among the planks numbered one through nine. He focused and set himself into the motion to pitch. He lifted up his leg and took a huge step forward. He wiped his arm around and let go of the ball. The feeling was not bad.

The ball he threw veered to the right, pa.s.sed the side of the board and hit the back wall.

"Zero aim!"

He heard the voice from his side. Banba had his bat placed on his shoulders, and he was grinning at him. "You can't even graze the board there."

This time Saruwatari was the one to sulk. "It's not like I was aiming for the board."

"Eh? But there ain't nothin' else."

"I'm practicing my curve b.a.l.l.s!"

"Dontcha make excuses again."

s.h.i.t, he tutted. How dare he make a fool of me.

"If you're going to say that I'll hit one this time."

"Ohh, which one?" Banba raised one eyebrow. His tone was teasing.

He picked up the ball.

"Number seven."

He declared his target. It was a low outside pitch for a right handed batter. He had too much strength put into his first pitch, and it completely pa.s.sed the target, right overhead of it.

For his second pitch, the trajectory was too low. He threw more. However, none were in the striking zone. Finally his next pitch hit the board. However, it directly hit the frame of the board. There was a thud, and the ball bounced back.

"Foul ball." Banba muttered.

Dammit. I'll kill him.

"……Number five."

He switched his target to the one in the middle and pitched again. And again. And again. And again. He pitched in succession. However, none of them hit.

Banba had been watching and blurted out. "Alrighty, that's a forced run right there."

This guy p.i.s.ses me off. "Shut it! I'll kill you!"

"…….He's late."

Lin glanced at the clock on the wall and muttered that to himself.

It had been thirty minutes. However, Banba had yet to return. He was making his guest wait. He started to feel irritated again.

Sayuri did not seem to mind the time and was reading a paperback book on the sofa. Lin decided to try and call Banba again. However he did not pick up. He still went to voicemail.

"Where are you? I said to hurry up and come back." He left another voicemail. "Ah, and also don't forget to buy toilet paper."

Lin dropped the call and sighed.

"Do you live together?"

Sayuri spoke up suddenly. She looked up from her book and was gazing at Lin.

"……Eh? Well, more like I'm freeloading."

"Are you possibly Zenji's lover?"

"As if."

After he strongly denied it Sayuri chuckled. She seemed to have already known. He shrugged and sat down facing her.

"Well, I heard you were that guy's lover too at one point." Lin questioned. He recalled the informant Enokida saying that before.

"Yes." She acknowledged it readily, to his surprise. "It was a long time ago."

She smiled lightly, feeling nostalgic, before moving on.

"I was hired to kill Zenji. So I pretended not to know anything about Zenji and approached him."

So she got in a love relationship with him to have him drop his guard? She's a tougher woman than she appears. He considered to himself. Otherwise she wouldn't have been a killer in the first place though.

"You know, he has become more reserved lately, but a long time ago he was quite the naughty man. He was a womanizer and messed around, so it was really simple to get close to him."

Sayuri chuckled mischievously.

"Are you serious?" Lin raised his voice in surprise. He heard quite the intriguing story.

That man, a womanizer? Naughty man? Messed around? That slovenly, unappealing guy? He could not imagine it.

The moment he was about to ask for more details, the office door opened.

"I'm home."

It was Banba's voice. Speaking of the man himself.

"……You finally came back." Lin stood up and headed to the entrance.

"Where's the 'welcome home?'"

"More importantly, you're late. I called you numerous times."

"Sorry 'bout that. A lot happened."

When he looked, he saw that Banba was empty handed. He was only carrying his bat case on his back, and both of his hands were empty.

"……Where's the toilet paper?"

Banba suddenly realized when Lin said that. "Ahh, I forgot!"

"What the h.e.l.l were you doing?!" Even though he pressed him for it so many times. "You're useless!"

"When I got to the batting center I remembered it." Although Lin was angry with him, Banba only laughed.

After he gave a large sigh,

"Ahh, that's right." He told him as though he just remembered. "You have a guest waiting for you."

Lin pointed to the sofa with his chin. Banba looked over to the woman in the reception area. "Ah, Sayuri-san. You came."

"Didn't you tell me to come?"

"Sorry."

"It's fine. I was able to talk with him too." Sayuri said, keeping her eye on Lin. Her lips covered in beige lipstick curved into a lax smile.

"Geh." The complexion of Banba's face changed. "……Sayuri-san, you didn't say nothin' personal right?"

"She was just about to tell me." Lin smirked.

"Zenji." Sayuri took out a file from her bag and handed it over to Banba. "Here you are. Just as promised."

Banba took a seat facing Sayuri and checked the contents of it. "As expected of you, Sayuri-san." He admired her work.

"What is that?" Lin peeked over from the side and asked.

"A list of names of the Kakyuu Group's members." Sayuri had answered him.

"The Kakyuu Group?"

The Kakyuu Group was a developing multinational mafia based in f.u.kuoka. Lin had worked for them in the past as well.

"I asked Sayuri-san here to steal it. After a.s.sa.s.sinating the president."

"So you have that stolen and then what do you plan to do?"

Banba answered with a serious expression. "I'm gonna annihilate the Kakyuu Group."

It was in a room on the highest floor of an apartment building in Beijing. In the center of the living room there was a large Persian carpet laid out with a black leather sofa placed on top. All four walls were decorated with numerous photos. Actually, this man had an interest in collecting works of art, he recalled. That detail was listed on the data he received about his target.

When Zhao arrived to the room the man had a wine gla.s.s in one hand and was watching television with a ma.s.sive screen. Speakers were set up on both sides of it, and the footage was high quality. It was almost like a movie theater.

The resident of this room, which he had invested money into nearly as a hobby, was Fu Jian Huang – a man who belonged to the Beijing subdivision of the criminal organization Shou w.a.n.g. He was fifty years old. He wore a light purple gown and had a beer belly. At first he shouted at him arrogantly, but he went quiet after being beaten repeatedly. When he turned his blade towards him and threatened him the man raised both hands in earnest.

He heard Shou w.a.n.g had their main base in Hong Kong. Their primary source of income was from drugs. They presented themselves in public as a pharmaceutical company and collaborated with various suspicious companies and organizations, working on researching new drugs and development. However, in actuality what they traded were dangerous substances including new kinds of regulated drugs, poisons, truth serums, and viruses used for war and terrorism. The range of their activities remained within China, but they seemed to be trying to branch out to Macau, Seoul and even j.a.pan, and so there were a few opposing organizations working to quickly weaken their influence. And Zhao, a freelance killer, had received a job from one of those opposing organizations.

He had two requests to carry out. One was to kill Huang. The other was to obtain the new virus sample this man possessed.

"What is your name?" Zhao looked at the man and asked him. It was to confirm who he was for certain.

"……Fu-Fu Jian Huang."

The man answered with difficulty. He was indeed his target.

"Where is the virus your guys made?"

He questioned him, but Huang remained silent. However he saw him glance over to the center wall for a moment.

"I see. There, huh." Zhao grinned and nodded.

In that direction was a photo set up on a wall. When he removed it there was a safe built into the wall. Found it. The virus must be inside.

Now that he knew the hiding place of it he had no more use for the man.

After Zhao raised his blade over his head, Huang panicked.

"Wa-wait. Don't kill me!"

"Are you stupid?" Zhao sighed. "I'm a professional killer, you know? Killing is my job."

Huang's eyes darted around, and he tried to string words together. "……Y-you want the virus, right? I'm the only one who can open that safe. As long as you don't kill me, I'll hand over the contents inside it."

"No one else but you can open it, you say……"

Zhao closely examined the safe. There were st.u.r.dy doors and no dial or keypad on it. There was also no hole for a key to fit in. What it did have were a scanner and a small camera. Then it was a biometric system. What he would need were fingerprints and retinas scanned.

"It doesn't seem like that'll be an issue even if you're dead. As long as I have your fingers and eyeb.a.l.l.s."

"Wa-wait!" Huang's complexion changed, and he yelled. "It won't open if you kill me!"

"……What the h.e.l.l's with you? Enough. You're annoying."

"Besides the fingerprints and a retina scan it would also need a voice print as well." He pointed to the safe. "It's programmed to not open unless I say my name into the microphone."

"Then it'll be fine."

Zhao stated and took out a small device from his pocket. It was a voice recorder. After he rewinded it a little bit he hit the play b.u.t.ton.

'What is your name?'

'……Fu-Fu Jian Huang.'

Huang became dumbfounded upon hearing the recorded conversation and his eyes opened wide in shock. This was in Zhao's favor.

"Right? It won't be a problem even if you're dead." Zhao reaffirmed his grip on his weapon. It was a Chinese sword with a curved blade called a Lancet. He threw it down swiftly, cutting off Huang's head.

The body collapsed onto the floor. Blood spurted forth from the severed area and dyed the high quality carpet red. The head that was lopped off rolled across the ground and stopped when it hit the wall. It had the plain face of a dead person with eyes and mouth opened wide.

He picked up that head and held it up in front of the safe's camera. The next scan was for the fingerprints. He cut off a finger from Huang's dead body and pressed it to the scanner. The last part was the voice print. He played Huang's recorded voice into the microphone. The safe was tricked easily. 'Identify confirmation completed.' After the announcer's voice stated there was the sound of a click; it had unlatched.

"That guy sure was stupid." Zhao sneered.

There were two small cases within the safe. There were several syringes and vessels containing liquid inside for each case. One was the virus and the other was the counter virus. He had to hand over the cases themselves to his employer, but Zhao went ahead and swiped out one of the containers. He would not be found out if he took just one. He was a kleptomaniac by nature.

He also took the high quality items Huang was wearing on his person. He took the large jeweled rings from his brusque fingers. They had the crest of a beast carved into them – the marking of a Shou w.a.n.g member. He had no objection to use them as spoils for this job.

Guess I should get going. The moment he thought that he got a call. It was a man named Yang – Zhao's mediator.

He pressed the b.u.t.ton to accept the call.

"What's up, Yang?"

The other immediately brought up the main topic at hand. 'I have good news for you, sir.'

Good news – there was only one thing that came to his mind when he said that. "……Did you figure out his whereabouts?"

'No, however, I have located the broker in charge of that man at the time. He has apparently retired and is living with his family in Busan.'

He could gain beneficial information if you talked to that broker. He finally managed to grab that man's tail. His heart sped up.

'Sir, where are you right now?'

"In Beijing."

'I am in Hong Kong. We ought to take tomorrow's flight to Busan.'

Is that so? Zhao nodded in agreement. "Then let's meet there."

Disclaimer: I worked with on the Chinese names and words, but since I cannot read Chinese and they are more familiar with Simplified Chinese than Traditional, please let me know if there are any mistakes in the spelling or reading.

I also do not know much about baseball. I have never seen a game before on TV or in real life. I do my research and on occasion I ask others who are more familiar with the sport, but I may be p.r.o.ne to mistakes. Please advice.

Shou w.a.n.g (兽王) are written with the characters ‘beast’ and ‘king’ apparently, hence the marking on the rings as their symbol.

Any many thanks to for editing this ma.s.sive chapter and giving me suggestions for better flow.