Deep-Seated Error

As hired assassins, the Kure Clan possessed considerable strength and efficiency. But they were a family of killers, after all, and quite a few of them had a few screws loose in the way they thought and viewed the world.

Take the Kure Clan's tradition, for instance. For more than a thousand years, the Kure Clan, born for combat, had frequently had its children take in the "physiological seeds" of famous martial artists, seeking to acquire superior genes and fighting techniques from outside and continually improve themselves from generation to generation.

One thing was that Kure Karura wasn't interested in Shiraki Uke. She probably preferred the "Tokita Ohma" type, and she would meet him someday in the future.

The other was that Kure Fusui seemed very interested in Shiraki Uke—and she hadn't said it was "limited to fighting techniques."

"Come on, you're my cousin's classmate's older brother. We're both 'guardians,' so there's no need to be so distant!"

Kure Fusui rose onto her tiptoes and draped an arm over Shiraki Uke's shoulder. "You can owe me a favor for this. I'll just tell you what I found," she said familiarly.

Shiraki Uke was about to consider it when Kure Fusui suddenly turned serious and changed the subject.

"This match—especially your opponent, Komada the Deva King—his appearance fee is far more than a small yakuza group like the Sanjigumi could afford."

"Besides, the match itself is strange. If you were still sick, the outcome would be a foregone conclusion, and there wouldn't even be anything worth watching—you'd be slaughtered one-sidedly."

"Someone else is paying Komada's appearance fee, and their aim isn't simply to put on a match."

"I found three parties involved: the Teiai Group, a member company of the Kengan Association, and an overseas underground organization."

Kure Fusui frowned slightly.

"The last one is the most deeply hidden. I even doubt it exists—it's only a possibility."

"..."

Shiraki Uke rubbed his chin and prompted her, "And?"

Wu Fengshui understood that Shiraki Uke was asking about his opponent in this fight and continued, "As for Komada the Deva King, he's a fighter hired by the Nogi Group. He's a Kengan newcomer with three wins in three matches. He used to be in the underworld too, and he fights dirty."

"Since this isn't an official Kengan match, we can't rule out the possibility that Komada will bring a weapon."

Shiraki Uke understood and smiled. "Thanks!"

Kure Fusui grinned back. "Don't forget you owe me a favor!"

Shiraki Uke stopped smiling.

After a short rest, a man in black from the Teiai Group came to lead Shiraki Uke to meet Komada.

This was the usual meeting between the two sides before a fighting match, as well as an excellent chance to heat up the atmosphere.

The lights in the center of the casino were turned up to full brightness.

Under the gazes of more than a hundred people, Shiraki Uke and Komada stood facing each other, the difference in their heights and builds plain to see.

Shiraki Uke: 187 centimeters tall, 94 kilograms.

Komada Shigeru, the Nioh: 192 centimeters tall, 121 kilograms.

In an official fighting match, a weight difference like that would never have been allowed in the same ring. Not only would the result have been a foregone conclusion, but the audience would never have accepted it on a human level either.

But in an underground fight in the underworld, once both sides stepped into the ring, there was no room for regrets!

"The organizer's price was right, but why's my opponent a new face?"

Komada folded his arms and frowned in puzzlement as he looked at Shiraki Uke. "Hey, kid, where did you fight before?"

"At my family's dojo. I taught hobby classes."

Shiraki Uke lifted his head slightly, meeting Komada's gaze without hesitation.

Komada's frown deepened at the answer. "This is your debut?!"

He sighed dismissively. "My appearance, my build... Everything you need to know about me is right in front of you. I'm obviously much stronger than you, and you still dared to step into the ring?"

"Why wouldn't I dare?"

Shiraki Uke narrowed his eyes as he asked.

Perhaps sensing Komada's intense fighting spirit, Shiraki Uke's thoughts began to race as well, and his body gradually grew hot. The phantom of Ryu appeared before him again, once more throwing a straight punch at him.

It was a punch Shiraki Uke still couldn't completely evade!

Compared with that, the pressure of Komada's massive build was hardly worth mentioning, and he was nowhere near as "strong" as he claimed.

Shiraki Uke was lost in thought, while Komada sensed a trace of contempt in his eyes.

"I see... I get it now."

Komada cracked his knuckles and raised his chin. "Get ready to spend a long time in bed—or maybe the rest of your life."

"Komada really is a veteran. He's got the crowd fired up!"

Kure Fusui made the observation as she watched from outside the ring with Kure Karura and Arisa.

With nothing else to do, the two of them told Arisa about Kengan matches and some general knowledge concerning the Kure Clan.

Such a peaceful chat was especially rare in the underground casino at that moment.

But soon, the two cousins noticed that the atmosphere around a mahjong table in a corner not far away was unusual as well. There was an indescribably powerful presence there.

They moved a little closer to listen—

"Self-draw, nine gates, yakuman, thirty-two thousand points. A comeback."

The winner was a middle-aged man with silver-white hair, dressed in a casual suit. His voice was deep and lazy, yet had an indescribable sharpness to it.

Kure Fusui and Kure Karura glanced at him, then turned their attention to the player seated opposite him. Both looked a little surprised.

Who would have thought they'd run into an old acquaintance in this little underground casino?

He was a white-haired old man with a long beard and long hair, dressed in a man's kimono. His face was deeply wrinkled and his frame small and thin, yet he exuded an air of age and danger, even killing intent.

He was none other than the chairman in charge of the Kengan Association, the current leader of the financial world, Katahara Metsudo!

He had a long history with the current head of the Kure Clan and, of course, knew Kure Karura and Kure Fusui as well. He was equally surprised to see the two of them here.

"Grandpa Metsudo!"

Kure Karura threw herself into the old man's arms, and Kure Fusui greeted him afterward.

Metsudo was in a fine mood. He ruffled Kure Karura's hair like an elder, waved at the man across from him, and laughed heartily.

"Ho ho ho, I've lost again! I really can't beat you at mahjong!"

But the white-haired man across from him merely lit a cigarette and smiled helplessly. "Don't joke around. This was just an after-dinner pastime. It doesn't even count as a game for fun..."

"True enough. We were originally supposed to go drinking tonight, after all. Sorry for dragging you over to keep this old man entertained!"

Metsudo smiled casually and introduced the man to the three girls before him. "This is my drinking buddy—"

The white-haired man raised the hand holding his cigarette in greeting.

"Akagi."

He gave a faint smile and added his full name. "Akagi Shigeru."

Chapter 7: Deep-Seated Error

Kure Fusui studied the man before her.

He was only in his thirties, yet he had a head of silver-white hair—probably natural.

Though he was middle-aged, his eyes were remarkably clear and pure, concealing an immense, unpredictable talent.

Perhaps this was what people meant when they said extraordinary people had extraordinary traits.

And from what Kure Fusui had heard, he was also a legend "on the same level" as Katahara Metsudo!

Among the yakuza, mahjong gambling matches were sometimes used to collect debts or settle disputes, and one man had never lost.

Akagi Shigeru—

He had dominated the underground mahjong world, played countless gambling matches, and gone undefeated for decades. He was known as the "Man of the Divine Realm"!

"..."

Though Kure Karura didn't know much about the underground mahjong world, her impression was much the same.

"He really is amazing, and compared with Grandpa and Grandpa Metsudo, Mr. Akagi is a completely different 'type'..."

Seeing that both cousins' attention had been captured by Akagi Shigeru, Katahara Metsudo looked as though it was only natural. "Ho ho, my drinking buddy really is popular!"

Only then did Kure Fusui and Kure Karura come back to their senses.

Metsudo changed the subject and asked curiously, "Speaking of which, are you two Kure Clan members here to kill someone?"

"Don't tease us, old man."

Kure Fusui waved a hand helplessly.

She knew that the old man Metsudo had a restless, uninhibited personality, so before he could start digging for answers, she gave him a general account of Shiraki Uke's situation.

"...I see."

"For the sake of his family's land, he was forced into the arena to face an active Kengan Association fighter?"

Metsudo turned to Arisa, his expression suddenly darkening. "Young lady, your big brother is very likely to die..." he said in a low voice.

Before he had finished speaking, an inexplicable aura had already begun to spread.

Katahara Metsudo—this old man over ninety, as withered as a dead tree—erupted with energy like an active volcano, his overwhelming presence surging without end.

Even the president of a major conglomerate would break out in a cold sweat when faced with Metsudo's aura, perhaps even becoming unable to move!

But the other two mahjong players—who were also Metsudo's bodyguards—never expected that all four people present, including Kure Karura, Kure Fusui, Akagi Shigeru, and even Arisa, would remain completely unfazed!

The first three were understandable, but how could that perfectly ordinary high school girl be the same?!

"My, my, you've got a good temperament, young lady~!"

Metsudo leaned happily on his cane, his bearing once again that of a small, gaunt old man. "It's good to be young," he said with a cheerful laugh. "But speaking of which, young lady, aren't you really worried about your big brother?"