Chương 360: CH_9.45 (360)

Takuma visited Kanaoka while looking for Okahachi, the missing middleman, and now he was back in town to find the missing client behind six high-profile assassinations who had introduced himself as Kyuusai, which Takuma doubted was his real name. He was only back in town because Okahachi knew nearly nothing about Kyuusai even though he had arranged several high-profile assassinations for him. ———.

At an ANBU blacksite located underground in a semi-restricted area inside the Hidden Leaf Village, Takuma sat across Okahachi in an interrogation room.

"You have to tell me something about this man, Kyuusai," said Takuma in his distorted voice, which had become part of his identity as Ratel. He was wearing his mask and a set of his ANBU gear, but he was missing the flak jacket and most of his weapons. As promised, Okahachi hadn't seen the sun in nearly ten days and turned pale and haggard. His life had become going back and forth between his cramped cell and the interrogation room, with twenty-four-seven surveillance.

"I already told you. I don't know anything about him," Okahachi pleaded, begging for him to believe him.

"You did six high-profile assassinations for him. I don't believe you don't know anything about him," said Takuma, unwilling to believe the claims. When he was working for Enomoto, he had done his research about the man.

"He didn't want me asking, so I didn't," Okahachi said, sounding tired and defeated.

"I only cared about getting paid, and he was paying a lot, so I didn't try to dig." The truth was that Takuma believed him. Okahachi was an extremely willing prisoner; they didn't use any torture on him because he spewed everything he knew from the moment they brought him, hoping it would save his skin. He didn't think Okahachi was trying to protect this one client when he had sold out everyone else.

"Tell me about how he contacted you about when he wanted your services."

"He liked to do everything in person, didn't want to leave a trail of any kind, but he also wanted to keep our meeting limited so we only met twice for every assassination." Okahachi put his elbows on the steel table, clutching his hair with shackled hands as though regretting everything.

"When did you meet?" Takuma urged when Okahachi stopped. The guards told him that he hadn't been sleeping well. Takuma had that in common with him, so he strangely sympathised. Okahachi heaved a sigh and slumped back into the chair.

"The first meeting was when he brought in the target. He would tell me the target's identity, when he wanted them dead, where he wanted it to take place, and how he wanted it to be staged..."

"Wait, he knew where they would be?" asked Takuma, suddenly interested.

"Yeah, I was initially skeptical, but he knew where all of the targets would be, and the locations were always perfect for killing. We made three of them look like robberies and it was only possible because he knew that those three were travelling on certain dates." Okahachi scoffed derisively as he added.

"Honestly, it made the work so much easier because Fukoji and his crew had to do some level of recon on other jobs, but on Kyuusai's jobs, they just had to show up at the right place at the right time, and even a kid could complete the job." Takuma made a note of that before nudging for Okahachi to continue.

"I would take all of what he gave me and take it to Fukoji to see if they were up for it, and they always were because it was easy money. On the second meeting, he would come for confirmation. If I accepted the job, he would pay me right there and then—all the money."

"Not an advance? But all of it?" Takuma asked, surprised. From what he knew, the usual system involved a partial advance before the job and the remaining amount after success. If the hit failed, the client would lose the advance, which was traditionally accepted as a risk in the assassination industry. Okahachi nodded.

"Uh-huh. And he paid a premium for every job. In his words, it was a little something extra for the best service."

"So basically you didn't ask anything because he paid you well," said Takuma. Okahachi didn't say anything in return.

"Then what? He was gone? What about verification if the job was done?"

"Didn't you see the targets? He didn't need me to tell him that they were dead." Takuma scolded himself internally for asking a stupid question, but he was tired.

"After he paid me and all the details were finalised, I would take him to a cabaret club to get drunk—""What? Where?" Takuma asked, and the brain fog that had addled his brain cleared up. He felt he had something important to say. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"To a cabaret club. You know the clubs where you go to drink with pretty women."

"I know that. He didn't say anything there? Maybe something slipped when he was talking to a hostess?" asked Takuma while doing his best not to show any excitement in case Okahachi latched on to it and started to make up shit because he seemed the type.

"Not that I can remember. But he did take one of the girls to a separate booth and eventually convinced her to spend the night with him. Maybe she knows something. That fucking smug bastard!" Okahachi's face twitched in anger, and a flash of hate passed through his eyes. ———. So, Takuma found his destination at the Sunshine Cabaret Club. He had his mask and a hooded-cloak on as he sat facing the mild-mannered owner in the backroom office while the hostesses were servicing the guests in the front.

The manager's white shirt was drenched near his armpits. He dabbed his face with a handkerchief, and his eyes fluttered to the door every few seconds. It was beyond obvious that he was doing everything to avoid making eye contact with Takuma. They were waiting for a hostess who Okahachi visited regularly. Takuma now knew why Okahachi was pissed. Kyuusai slept with his regular hostess every time they visited the place together. Takuma had no doubt that Kyuusai did it purposefully.

But he couldn't help but wonder why Okahachi kept bringing him here if that was the case. Kyuusai always wanted to go to Sunshine, and in the middleman's opinion, treating a high paying client was simply good for business despite the personal cost. The door opened, and a charming brunette with shoulder-length hair and teal eyes wore a fitted dress with shimmering scales that changed colours as light reflected off them. The woman wasn't surprised because she knew he was here to meet her, but she did seem wary.

The manager seemed infinitely relieved on seeing her and introduced her as Yuki.

"Okahachi was your regular?" asked Takuma. His voice took her aback for a few seconds before she hurriedly nodded. She bowed her head to hide her surprised expression. The manager turned stiff and seemed to want to scold her but couldn't do it before him. He ignored them and placed a sketch of Kyuusai, drawn by an expert sketch artist based on Okahachi's description, on the glass table between them. The man in the sketch had a handsome face, a sly, self-confident smile, and slanted eyes.

Takuma had listened in on the session with the sketch artist from the adjacent room because he wanted to hear how Okahachi described him, hoping to know more about the man. Taro's mom, a Tokubetsu Jōnin in the field of interrogation, had told him that people recalled many details when they were describing someone, as they were focused entirely on the subject. Of course, anything that came out of someone's mouth was tainted by their own bias and perception.

Okahachi hated the man, but that was to be expected as he blamed Kyuusai for his condition even though it was his own fault. Takuma thought Kyuusai was a self-confident man who was used to things going his way due to his charisma and ability to talk people into doing things for him.

"Do you recognise this man?" he asked. Yuki stared at the sketch, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall him. Her expression brightened, and recognition flashed in her eyes.

"I do! I remember him!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"Mister Okahachi brought him along himself a few times."

"Do you remember his name? How many times did Okahachi bring him along?" Takuma asked. He wanted to check the reliability of her memory. If it was dodgy, then he'd have to bring in a Yamanaka to look into her mind, which he didn't want to do because Amami was busy, and he would have to pay for the services of one, which he didn't want to do because of budget constraints.

"If I'm not wrong, his name was Kyuusai," she answered quickly, but then took some time to think.

"I think it was five or six times."

"Was it five or six?" The manager clasped her arm and shook her.

"Y-You have that notebook of yours. Don't you keep track of your customers' reservations and visits? Go bring it!"

"Stop," Takuma raised his hand as Yuki got up. He looked at the manager.

"You go bring it." The manager couldn't've left any faster, leaving them alone in the room. Yuki shuffled back on the couch to put as much distance between them.

"Relax," said Takuma with his normal voice. It had changed in the past few months, growing deeper. He had grown five inches in a very short period, causing him to change much of his wardrobe.

"I need your help, Yuki. You aren't in trouble because you haven't done anything wrong. I want to know everything about this man, and I'd be thrilled if you can tell me anything you remember." He wanted her to feel at ease because pain and pressure were good motivators to get truth out of someone when they were hiding the truth, but if someone was genuinely having trouble remembering details, stress only worsened the situation.

"... It was six times," said Yuki, her voice steadier than before. Her body language opened up lightly as she directly faced him.

"Do you have information about Kyuusai written down?" She shook her head.

"Did he say where he was from?" People generally talked about themselves when trying to appeal to others and that was truer when the other party was a beautiful woman like Yuki. Even though she was there to entertain them and act in a way to make the guest feel they were interesting, that instinct didn't go away.

"Yes, I believe he said he was from the north, one of the big cities." Yuki pursed her lips for a moment.

"I believe it was Odaman." Takuma recognised the city, which boded well because it had a strong shinobi presence.

"That was good information," Takuma praised her. The door opened and the manager came in with a small diary, proud of himself and looking like he was ready to brown nose him. Takuma stopped him before he could say anything,"Stay out, close the door," he said in his distorted voice.

"Y-Yes," said the manager. He looked at Yuki worriedly, checking if she was hurt while he closed the door.

"What else can you tell me about him? What was he like?" asked Takuma, returning to his normal voice. It was a subtle move to make her comfortable and important by revealing his normal voice.

"He said he was a businessman people came to when they wanted to solve problems—never really explained exactly what he did. He was charming, funny, and I remember having a good time—but I don't think I would want to date him," said Yuki, becoming increasingly comfortable.

"Why is that?"

"He thought too much of himself, I guess. Like he would be angry if you made a joke at his expense."

"He gave the vibe that he thought he was better than everyone else?"

"Yes, that! Exactly."

"But you still slept with him," asked Takuma, but scrunched his nose beneath his mask, wondering if he had asked an upsetting question.

"Ah, you know about that, huh," Yuki looked sheepish but then she shrugged.

"As I said, he was charming, funny, and he looked like my type. It was a fun time, nothing more. Like I said, I wouldn't want to date him." Takuma nodded to himself and continued questioning her about anything she remembered, which was a lot and nothing at the same time as they only had spent a few hours distributed over two and a half years.