Chương 422: CH_11.19 (422)

A private room at the prestigious Blue Diamond Bar on a busy Saturday evening was not easy to come by, even for those with money and influence. It smelled of cedar and vintage whiskey. Heavy curtains muted the noise of the city below, leaving only the sound of ice clinking in a glass. Chūnin Onikuma Aoki, an appointed member of the governing administration, shifted in his chair for the third time in ten minutes. His glass was untouched. He had been there since six. He looked at the clock; it was already six thirty.

The door opened, and Enomoto stepped in, followed by a waiter.

"Chūnin Aoki," Enomoto greeted warmly, as if speaking to an old friend. He didn't apologise for being late; he didn't even acknowledge it. The waiter helped him remove his leather coat, revealing a silk shirt with collars monogrammed with his initials. Aoki managed a smile.

"Chūnin Enomoto. Always a pleasure." Enomoto settled into his seat. The waiter poured him a drink and vanished without a sound. Only then did he speak.

"I hear the latest supply tender is quite big. Medicinal extracts, refined chemicals—contracts worth millions of ryo," he said casually, as though discussing the weather.

"You'll want reliable partners to carry that weight and consistently meet demand." Enomoto placed a leather folder on the white linen. The folder wasn't thick, but its presence was. Aoki glanced at it, then at Enomoto's face, whose expression didn't change; his round blackout shades hid his eyes, and the faint smile remained static as though it was painted on his face.

"Inside are my company's proposals. Competitive rates. A record of delivering on time." Aoki's throat tightened. He reached for his glass, more for something to do with his hands than his thirst. The ice had already melted. Enomoto calmly poured him a new drink.

"Chūnin Enomoto... you understand the scrutiny these contracts are under." Weak words, even as he said them. Enomoto's smile remained polite.

"Scrutiny doesn't concern me, Chūnin Aoki. Results do. And I believe you share that perspective... You care about the results of your upcoming re-appointment. I have prepared a show of support for your campaign." From beneath the table, he placed a duffel bag on the table beside the leather folder. He opened the zip to reveal it to be filled with a stack of bills.

"I like you, Chūnin Aoki. It's always better to invest in someone you already trust." For a moment, the only sound was the hum of the chandelier above. Finally, Aoki slid the folder closer, the gesture small but irreversible. Enomoto raised his glass.

"To progress." Their glasses touched, the sound crisp, final. ———.

"It was a lovely dinner, Chūnin Enomoto. Allow me to host you next time," Onikuma said.

"It would be my pleasure," Enomoto smiled politely and returned to the private room. The waiter brought him his favourite drink, and he settled into the couch to relax as his firm posture melted. The past three years were more fruitful for Enomoto than the rest of his life. He had risen from a mid-size drug supplier to someone with real influence.

Over a period of nearly ten months, his competition on the market was mercilessly and aggressively targeted by the Police Force's Narcotics Taskforce, clearing a path upwards for him. He had quickly consolidated power and earned himself a fortune that would last him a lifetime. However, that wasn't enough. The Narcotics Taskforce was tightening its noose around the industry, and without his insider there to protect him, he was also in danger.

He was big enough to have the strength to endure, but his size also made him a big target. It made him realise that he needed to diversify. He had expanded his business to cities other than Hidden Leaf Village, but also built legitimate businesses which weren't just money-laundering fronts. Finally, he had gotten into government contracts and tenders, which paid a lot of money.

He wasn't a big player in the field because the competition from the big clans was too fierce, but in the past three years, he had managed to plant a firm foot into the space. He predicted that, given four to five more years, he would have a chance at competing at the big boy table. He wasn't blessed with a clan background. His parents were shinobi, but both retired as genin after their ten years and took on other work.

Other than attending the academy in the countryside, he grew fairly detached from the shinobi world. His life changed when he was transferred to Hidden Leaf Village because he showed talent for iryōjutsu. He thought himself to be special, but in the face of the big clans and their talents, he knew he was nothing. Chūnin was his limit. He could feel it. Even his talent with iryōjutsu was mediocre at best; it didn't interest him—he knew he couldn't be the best at it.

Two decades, that's how long he had lived in the Hidden Leaf Village. It was his home. And he didn't want to be mediocre in his home. If he couldn't be a spectacular shinobi, he would be special in some other way. He would make those with real power acknowledge him as their peer. Enomoto brought the drink to his lips and took another sip. He frowned and looked down at his glass. Something tasted strange. He reached for the bottle on the table while smelling the glass.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. He stilled as he touched the cold crystal of the bottle. He couldn't feel the cold or crystal. His hand had become numb. He looked at his other hand when he felt his grip around the glass weaken. He had been poisoned.

"Waiter!" His feet almost betrayed him as he stood up. He tried to stop the fall by grabbing the table, but his arms remained limp against his wishes. He bumped the table, causing the bottle to shatter against the floor, spilling liquor, some of which splashed on his face. The door opened, and a group of men entered the room with the waiter standing at the door. He saw one of them slip a wad of cash to the waiter. He tried to speak, but his voice was already gone.

He lay on the floor, paralysed, and desperately circulating his chakra to neutralise or weaken the paralysis agent spreading through his body. It wasn't working. One of the men squatted near him. He had an empty sleeve.

"I need your help, Mister Enomoto. I hope you'll cooperate," he said calmly, but with a hint of excitement in his voice. ———. Enomoto woke up to a bucket of ice-cold water being dumped over him. He moved on instinct, but found that he was bound to a pole with chains. When he tried to break them, he couldn't summon his chakra. It had been sealed. The one-armed man from before was sitting in front of him. He looked around the building, a barn, and saw others.

They maintained their distance, remained in shadows, but all stared at him.

"We need something from you, Chūnin Enomoto." Enomoto returned his attention to the one-armed man, who had a calm smile and a comforting body language. It took one look for him to realise that this man was the same type as him. He tried to settle down the panic bubbling in his pit. With his chakra sealed, he was completely helpless. It would be some time before someone would get suspicious about his disappearance, so he needed to cooperate to keep his abductors happy.

It would be some time before someone would get suspicious about his disappearance, so he needed to cooperate to keep his abductors happy.

"... What do you want?"

"Takuma. I want him."

"Takuma?" Enomoto was taken aback because he hadn't expected to hear that name. The last time their paths had crossed was before his "Police Force insider" had been shipped off to the Frost-Steam war. He had heard that the boy had returned, but they hadn't been in contact beyond that.

"You know him, right?" Enomoto nodded.

"Excellent. I have some business with our mutual friend. We have a telephone. All you need to do is call him and arrange for him to come to the location of our choosing. Very simple, right?" The man talked as if this were a simple favour between two close friends.

"I... can do that, yes, of course," said Enomoto. If that's all they wanted, there was no problem at all.

"But..."

"But?" The man suddenly looked displeased.

"I'm not sure he would come if I ask. He and I aren't exactly on good terms." He was sure Takuma still suspected him of being behind the assassination attempt on his life. Takuma was the type who would hold a grudge for life for a chance at getting even.

"That would be a problem." The man hummed before smiling.

"But that's not my problem. He needs to come to the location. You need to make it happen." Enomoto felt his heart go cold. The man's smile didn't reach his increasingly dull eyes. This was not a reasonable person who would work with him so that they both could be comfortable.

"Okay, okay, I will make it happen. I'll personally go to him and escort him wherever you want me to bring him."

"No, you'll remain here." The man stood up from his chair and walked to him and gently caressed his cheek.

"I looked into you. Unfortunately, I didn't like what I found. You need to bring him to the location over the telephone. If you do this, I promise I will release you, but if you fail, you'll die a painful, horrible death—so think carefully how you'll do it." By the time he was finished, he was squishing his face in his grip. Enomoto clenched his hands into a fist to contain his rage and nervousness. He silently nodded.

"Good." The man smiled and patted his cheek, but it was close to slapping.

"But, I won't leave you hanging like this. I will tell you something that'll definitely compel Takuma to come."

"What is it?"

"He's an ANBU-nin." ———. Enomoto looked at the telephone on the floor in front of him. The man had taken a seat beside him and was dialling Takuma's number while holding the receiver next to his ear.

"Can't you untie me?" he asked.

"It's okay this way." Enomoto gritted his teeth. The man wasn't listening to him. He didn't know the time, but he knew it was already late at night. He suggested that they call him in the morning because they wanted Takuma to come to their desired location the next morning, but the man didn't listen. He looked at the people, hoping they would say something, but none of them had moved from their place and didn't seem like they would. He flinched when he heard the dial tone turn into ringing.

He forcefully calmed himself down, but it was difficult to do so when he was about to talk to an ANBU-nin. Nothing good came from interacting with one. Enomoto took a deep breath and thought about Takuma when they first met. He remembered the desperate kid who had agreed to join the Ring. He remembered the nervous kid who dealt drugs to make some money. He recalled how startled the boy looked when he kicked his door down. The thoughts brought him some calm. He could do this.

The phone line connected as he released his deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Hey, kid," said Enomoto, a smile stretching on his lips.

"Who is this?"

"It's Enomoto. Already forgot my voice?" There was a few seconds of silence from the other side.

"Hey, are you listening—"" Why the fuck are you calling so late? Scratch that. Why the fuck are you calling period?"

"We need to talk, kid."" I'm putting the phone down. Don't fucking call me again."

"This is important!" Enomoto urged while keeping his voice casual.

"There's a problem... about what we did back then."" Not my problem. Deal with it on your own."

"Oh, it's also your problem, boy."" I don't think so. Fucking lose my number." Enomoto knew that Takuma didn't give a fuck about whatever he had to say. He was no longer talking to a Police officer, with whom he had a relationship based on mutual benefit and who held blackmail over him. He was now talking to an ANBU-nin, who could ruin his life. Enomoto could tell that the only reason Takuma hadn't was because he probably didn't want anything to do with that time of his life.

"I know you're an ANBU," Enomoto said. He held his breath as he waited for a response."... What did you just say?"

"Even if you're a hotshot now. This is big enough to be a problem even to you."" I highly doubt that. What is it?" Enomoto knew he had him.

"It's not something to talk over the telephone. Meet me tomorrow and find out." He gave him the time and location, then used his feet to reach the telephone and cut the call before Takuma could reply. He glanced at the man, who was staring at him in surprise.

"He will come," he said. The man remained silent for a moment before nodding.

"I agree. I think he will. You did a good job."

"Let me go."

"Yes, I'll keep my promise. I'll release you..." The man reached behind his back, and instead of a key to free him, he pulled out a kunai that he stabbed right into his neck. Enomoto spurted blood from his mouth and neck while he stared at the man in shock.

"... From life that is."