Cheonho Pharmaceutical Company (7)
People were charging at me through the flashing lights. I couldn't tell who among them was yakuza and who was just a civilian. For now, I pegged the guy throwing punches right in front of me as yakuza.
I dodged lightly and countered with a right hook. The next guy came at me with a jab, but I dropped him with a low kick. Thud!
"Kill him!"
"Kyaaack!"
"What the hell are those guys?"
Dong! Dong! Dong! The screams of the crowd were swallowed by the club's pounding noise. Whenever someone tripped, they'd bump into the next person, causing a chain reaction of chaos. At this rate, people were going to get seriously hurt.
I grabbed the leg of a guy flying at me with a kick and hurled him aside, then yelled, "Blackie! Fire alarm!"
Ah, got it!
Ding-ding-ding! The background music was so loud that the fire alarm sounded faint. But that wasn't what I'd wanted anyway. Luckily, Blackie understood exactly what I needed.
Whoosh!
"Gah! What the—?!"
"Water... no way?"
The alarm blared, and water poured from the sprinklers on the club ceiling. The music cut out naturally, and confused people started heading outside at the sound of the alarm.
"Whoa whoa whoa!"
"It's water! Water!"
Even in this insane situation, some drunks were still dancing. ...Whatever, that was fine. At least it separated them from the yakuza.
"That's the bastard! Get him!"
"He dares touch us?!"
The yakuza pushed through the cascading water toward me. I grabbed a beer bottle from a table and chucked it as I ran. Crash!
"Urk!"
The yakuza hit by the bottle staggered. The floor was slippery, and he lost his balance, tumbling backward. ...There was definitely something wrong with the club's tile floor.
I dodged their dangerous strikes one by one, landing solid hits on anyone who got close. As the yakuza started slipping around like mops on the wet tiles, their attitudes shifted.
Shing! No idea how they'd gotten past the metal detectors. Yakuza wielding katanas—straight out of a game—appeared. Things just got dangerous. Long weapons were a whole different beast from daggers. Even if I dodged the blade, the reach made it hard to find an opening to counter.
I decided to trust the gloves Shai had given me and give it a shot. Right on cue, salvation arrived.
"Eat this!"
Bam!
"Ugh! Crazy... crazy bitch!"
Shai hurled a table with inhuman strength—no one would believe she was a woman. The yakuza panicked at the sudden ambush. I'd already closed in on them before she threw it.
"You little shit!"
Distance solved, I could hit back. My fist was faster than their hasty katana swings. Thwack!
"Gack!"
I used the guy I'd hit as a shield and kicked the one on my left. Even yakuza had some camaraderie—they couldn't swing freely at me with their buddy right there.
"Just kill him already!"
Patience snapped; ignoring their own man, a katana came slashing at lethal speed. Uh... tricky angle to dodge. No choice—I grabbed the incoming blade.
"Huh?"
"What the—?!"
I twisted the caught blade and decked the bewildered yakuza. Shai flying-kicked another about to attack me and shouted,
"Hey! You crazy bastard! I said it won't cut you, not to grab it!"
"No... other way around."
"Fine! Now I know exactly what kind of psycho you are."
Shai's gaze toward me felt off now—like she saw me as a fight-crazed lunatic.
"Am I wrong? You couldn't hold back again and went berserk."
"Misunder... nah, yeah."
With my track record, I couldn't deny it outright. Maybe they saw our skills? The yakuza slowly closed in. I called out,
"Blackie."
Should I call the cops...?
"Nah, can you kill the club lights?"
...Leave it to me.
Before charging forward, I flashed Shai a familiar hand signal. Her face twisted briefly, then turned to a grin.
"If you accidentally kill any, I'll kill you, got it?"
"Blackie! Lights out!"
Blackie killed the lights on my cue. The club was designed to block outside light, plunging it into total darkness.
"You fucker! Where'd you go?!"
"Don't move! Stay calm!"
The yakuza called out, mindful of friendlies. Helpful for us. I'd memorized their positions before the lights went. I sprinted toward the voices and kicked hard. Thud!
"Urk!"
The yakuza I kicked crashed into his ally.
"It's me!"
"Shit! I can't see a damn thing!"
I pummeled the panicking enemies one-sidedly. Shai covered any I missed, sticking right behind me.
"Gaaah!"
"Someone stop those bastards!"
We swept through the club like a tank. But it didn't last. As dark-adaptation kicked in, the yakuza started spotting us.
"Shai!"
Crash! I chucked a champagne bottle at a yakuza sneaking up behind her. The gap let a katana thrust right at my face. Whiff!
I flipped backward over a table. Luckily, it tipped, impaling the katana.
"Tch!"
"...I'd have dropped the sword and punched."
I uppercut the guy yanking at the blade with all his might. Crack! I yanked the katana free and gripped it. ...I'd used long weapons a few times in Chasefield X, but today was real combat debut, huh.
Problem was... there were too damn many yakuza. We got pushed back to the stage center. They'd even dragged in lights from somewhere. The area brightened, revealing as many yakuza left as we'd dropped. They glared like they wanted to tear us apart. By now, even the oblivious dancers had fled.
Shai and I stood back-to-back. She whispered,
"If this doesn't work, I'm pulling my gun."
"...How do they all carry those? Some VIP club secret?"
Were the metal detectors fake? Shai didn't get my joke. ...Jokes over. I nodded—meaning shoot if you have to—and prepared to end it.
"Enough!"
That voice filled the vast club. Strangely, the yakuza bowed like on cue. Someone emerged through the bright lights. Shockingly, the one commanding the yakuza was a woman. Wakagashira in yakuza ranks, from the briefing. Ryushin Gumi's vice president.
She eyed us coolly. "That's quite a rough welcome for foreigners visiting Korea."
"...You don't greet armed tourists kindly anywhere, right?"
The yakuza scowled at my quip. The vice president raised her arm to halt them.
"Seems there's a misunderstanding. We have no intention of fighting you. Kikuchi!"
"Yes, vice boss!"
A man stepped from the yakuza ranks—the Kikuchi Ryoma I'd accidentally pro-wrestled in the bathroom. Despite his split forehead, he smiled.
"Your humble servant opened his eyes today. Came to on the floor. It's been ages since I felt this."
He grinned at me. ...Kinda scary, honestly. The vice president smiled, satisfied.
"A real man fights now and then, right? Minor misunderstandings wash away with a drink."
"So... what's your point?"
Shai, impatient with the long talk, finally spoke up. At the vice president's gesture, the yakuza filed out.
"Wakagashira."
"Kikuchi, stand down."
She stared; he bowed once and left. "Care to sit and talk?"
"Sure."
I cut in before Shai could object. We sat at a relatively intact table.
"Thirsty."
She poured from a broken champagne bottle into a glass and downed it. Looking at me, she said something odd.
"Saw something long ago, following Father... the boss."
"..."
"One man massacred over thirty yakuza with a single dagger."
...Why the horror story? But her eyes gleamed strangely.
"Watched from above. You're similar."
"Uh... thanks."
Her next words explained the tale.
"Impossible not to notice. If we'd known Sable was involved, we wouldn't have gone this far."
"I... see."
I nodded along. They mistook us for assassins too. She looked knowing.
"This commotion never happened. We'll close the club a day. But understand our position—we can't just back off easily."
Her ensuing explanation dragged on. Yakuza have "sakazuki"—sharing sake cups makes sworn brothers. Ryushin Gumi's current young head—Ryushin president—shared it with someone in Korea.
"...Gong Hoseung, Cheonho Pharma executive director."
"Yes. May seem formal, but it's vital to us. He asked for help, so we did."
Not free, of course. Per her, Gong offered nearly 30 billion won compensation. Demand: oust the Manjae-pa gang.
"After meeting Manjae-pa, Gong went silent. Naturally, we suspect them."
"Mm... got it."
I didn't, really. Faking understanding, she relaxed.
"Take what you want. We just need Gong's item. No greed beyond."
"...If Gong's dead?"
"Losing a sworn brother? Can't retreat then."
Then it clicked. Sounded like helping Gong, but really—they couldn't withdraw from the board now. ...Yakuza had their reasons to stay entangled. I played along, acting understanding. Partly reading the room, partly seeing Shai's patience fraying.
Standing, we ironed out details: fake Kikuchi Ryoma's death as Manjae-pa target. Cease hostility toward yakuza. Cooperate where needed, coexist.
She nodded readily. "Not hard. Understood."
"Then... let's not meet again."
I said assassin-like words, shook hands, and left the club. Outside felt deserted—no sign of yakuza. Young couples trying to enter were turned away by non-yakuza-looking guys saying it was closed.
"...What a mess."
"Dunno. It's over, right?"
Shai yawned hugely. Time... already nearing dawn.
Ahem, can I speak now?
"Blackie? Where've you been?"
Looked like you didn't need help, so I... researched data. No, I'm back.
While we fought, Blackie worked elsewhere.
Figured out why the headquarters guy was a target. Turns out he's Ryushin Gumi's corporate acquisition specialist.
"That build, that face?"
Thinking back, before I split his head, he looked like a gentle salaryman.
"But what's corporate buyouts got to do—?"
Cheonho Pharma. Manjae-pa and Ryushin Gumi are battling for shares. Goal looks like takeover.
What the hell? Where'd Gong get 30 billion? Why the share war? My head hurt. Blackie said it'd gather more info and cut comms.
Shai, hearing that, said, "Screw it. Then we just wipe out Manjae-pa next, right?"
"...Might be overkill?"
"Try going berserk again? I won't help."
I had to tediously explain it was all a misunderstanding. She hates long talks, said okay... but her view of me hadn't budged. ...Anyway, I was dead tired. Is this what it takes for a 4 billion annual salary? Somehow I was at my bed, surrendering to sleep's waves.
"...Hey, wake up."
"Mmm... five more minutes..."
"Not... going to work?"
I opened my eyes to my little sister right there.