Kobe (4)
Kang-hae had already taken that possibility into account as well.
The possibility that the yakuza would attack him.
It was, of course, the worst-case scenario.
But it was something he had prepared himself for.
In his mind, Kang-hae counted the number of yakuza he had passed on his way into this room.
Thirty-two, including Lee Gang-woo.
It had all happened in an instant.
But Kang-hae had already fixed their numbers in his head.
And if the worst case he had imagined came to pass, then he planned to hold a knife to the throat of Kurozawa Kenji, the oyabun, and fight his way out of this room.
Taking on thirty-two men was impossible.
But taking down a few men in this room didn’t seem especially difficult.
That was when Kurozawa Kenji spoke.
“Listen, young man.”
“Didn’t I say this earlier?”
“……?”
“We’re yakuza. For a yakuza, honor matters more than life.”
Kang-hae thought it was bullshit.
There was no way a man who truly valued honor would ever become a yakuza.
They swung weapons around, threatened innocent people, and sold drugs on the street to rot society from the inside out—and then dared to put a word like honor in their mouths. It was pathetic.
Still, even trash had its own doctrine, the way a cult did.
Something that let them imagine themselves as sacred beings.
Because if they didn’t have that, even they wouldn’t be able to endure the fact that they were just beasts in human skin.
But he didn’t say any of that out loud.
Kang-hae simply waited for Kurozawa Kenji to continue.
“If you’ve been insulted, then it’s only right to answer in kind. But I must say, I do admire the courage it took for you to come here alone.”
“So what exactly do you want to say?”
Kang-hae couldn’t hold back any longer and cut in like that.
“How about you take on one of my men?”
“You mean fight?”
“That’s right.”
“And why exactly should I do that?”
“If you win, you’ll be allowed to leave alive.”
“That sounds as if my life depends on your decision.”
“Isn’t that the truth?”
“I’d say it’s the other way around.”
The instant Kang-hae finished speaking, all the executives stood and drew their Japanese swords.
Then they shouted.
“このクソ生意気な野郎が……. チョウセンジンのくせに, 俺たちをバカにしやがって!”“You damn arrogant bastard... how dare some Chosenjin look down on us!”
“ぶっ殺してやる!”“I’ll kill you!”
But Kang-hae still didn’t blink.
He only met Kurozawa Kenji’s eyes.
“Ha-ha-ha.”
At that, Kurozawa Kenji burst into loud laughter.
The sound carried all the way outside the door, and the yakuza waiting out there—who had been about to rush into the oyabun’s room thinking a fight had broken out—stopped short when they heard it.
Kurozawa Kenji pointed at one of the men who had drawn his Japanese sword and said, “That man there is known in Kobe as the Sword Demon.”
The man he pointed to was named Kawai Renji.
Kawai Renji had studied kendo since childhood, and in middle school he had even placed in national tournaments, proof of his exceptional skill.
But like most yakuza, he couldn’t hide his violent nature.
He fought everyone and anyone until he finally walked the yakuza path.
And as Kurozawa Kenji had said, he carried the nickname the Sword Demon of Kobe.
After he cut down seven enemies single-handedly during the war with the Inagawa-kai in Osaka, that name stuck to him for good.
He was one of Kurozawa Kenji’s most cherished subordinates.
He also served as a field commander in the organization.
Kang-hae looked at Kawai Renji.
The man looked to be in his forties, his face marked with scars here and there.
He wasn’t particularly tall, but his body was the body of a man who had spent years hardening himself.
His eyes were savage, too, like a beast’s.
But even so, he was only a yakuza.
“If I beat him, you hand over Lee Jeong-tae?” Kang-hae asked.
“If you defeat the Sword Demon of Kobe, I’ll consider it,” Kurozawa Kenji replied.
Then he went on.
“Well?”
“I’ll fight.”
“Then let’s move elsewhere.”
Kurozawa Kenji rose from his seat and left the room.
The door slid open.
When the oyabun came out, all the yakuza waiting outside lowered their heads.
And Kang-hae followed after Kurozawa Kenji.
The yard of the Kenji residence was covered in green grass, with carefully tended trees planted here and there.
There, Kang-hae faced Kawai Renji, the man known as the Sword Demon of Kobe.
What in the world is the oyabun thinking...?
And Kawai Renji, staring at Kang-hae across from him, fell into thought.
He had stayed beside Maruyama Kenji for twenty years, and he knew him better than anyone.
Kurozawa Kenji always put money before the yakuza spirit—before honor, before shame.
Of course, after becoming oyabun, he hadn’t done anything that would tarnish the organization’s reputation.
But money still came first.
So the proposal this man had made—hand over Lee Jeong-tae and make a deal—was undoubtedly something he wanted to accept.
In that case...
Kawai Renji thought it over.
He understood that what the oyabun wanted right now was a pretext.
He wanted to make a deal, but he couldn’t simply let a Chosenjin who had beaten down his men go unpunished.
So he would give the man a fitting punishment first.
Then, after that, he would reconcile with him and proceed with the transaction.
A fitting punishment...
Kawai Renji thought an arm would be appropriate.
That should do it.
He made up his mind.
He would cut off one arm of the young Chosenjin standing across from him.
An arm would make a suitable offering for the teuchi, the reconciliation ceremony or settlement feast that would come later.
“Hey, young man. You should draw your blade too.”
Kurozawa Kenji said that to Kang-hae.
And Kang-hae walked over to Lee Gang-woo, pulled out the sashimi knife tucked into his waistband, and took it in hand.
The blade was easily over thirty centimeters long.
But compared to the Japanese sword tucked at Kawai Renji’s waist, it looked pathetic.
“You’re not seriously planning to fight with that, are you...?” Kurozawa Kenji asked.
Kang-hae only nodded.
And Kawai Renji couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Ever since joining the yakuza, there had never been a man he drew his sword against whom he couldn’t cut down.
That was how he had earned the nickname the Ghost Possessed by the Sword.
Kawai Renji and the others all thought Kang-hae had lost his mind.
Kawai Renji looked to his oyabun with an expression that seemed to ask whether they really had to fight.
Kurozawa Kenji gave a short nod.
Kawai Renji gripped the scabbard with his left hand.
Then, just before drawing with his right, he said, “If you say anything else later, I’ll cut out your tongue.”
Lee Gang-woo relayed the words, and Kang-hae gave a faint snort of laughter.
Kawai Renji took that as an insult.
He changed his mind about simply cutting off one arm in a single stroke.
Like a cat tormenting a mouse before killing it, he decided he would make the Chosenjin suffer first.
Slowly, Kawai Renji drew his Japanese sword and took it in both hands.
Moonlight glimmered along the blade.
Kang-hae also tightened his grip on the sashimi knife.
“Yaaah!”
Kawai Renji shouted and charged at him, swinging the blade in a diagonal arc.
Whoosh—
Kang-hae quickly leaned back.
The blade skimmed the edge of his collar by a hair’s breadth.
“Hoo...”
Kang-hae steadied his breathing.
The blade was roughly seventy centimeters long.
The motion belonged to a man who had trained for years.
Still, Kang-hae didn’t think much of it.
Compared to the seniors and classmates he’d trained with back at the Development Group, it was ordinary movement.
For four straight years, Kang-hae had trained every kind of martial art alongside his seniors and peers without missing a single day.
Compared with them, the man opposite him was nothing more than a yakuza.
Kawai Renji swung again.
Kang-hae blocked the strike with the sashimi knife.
Clang—
Metal rang above Kang-hae’s head, and Kawai Renji twisted his body to aim for Kang-hae’s flank.
But Kang-hae had already anticipated the sword’s path.
He blocked it again.
Clang—
Metal struck metal once more.
And then Kang-hae used the distance they had just closed.
He drove his back foot into Kawai Renji’s stomach.
“Ghk...”
A groan burst from Kawai Renji’s mouth.
He staggered backward, slashing wildly through the air.
At close range, a dagger had far more advantage than a long sword.
He needed room.
But before Kawai Renji could even catch his breath, Kang-hae threw the knife at him.
Kawai Renji barely managed to swat away the incoming blade.
It was like a batter flailing a bat at a fastball in a baseball game.
But the Chosenjin who had been in sight a moment ago was gone.
When his gaze dropped, it was already too late.
Like a cockroach crawling along the floor, the Chosenjin had somehow gotten beneath him.
And before Kawai Renji could drive his sword into Kang-hae’s back, Kang-hae had already grabbed his ankle and knocked him down.
Thud—
Kawai Renji hit the ground on his back.
Kang-hae quickly climbed onto him and pinned the hand holding the sword with a knee.
“Aaaagh!”
A rough scream tore out of Kawai Renji’s throat.
From the start, Kang-hae had never intended to drag this out.
It only took a few exchanges to gauge Kawai Renji’s skill and footwork.
He threw the knife at Kawai Renji’s chest like a shuriken user throwing a blade, then went for the tackle, and after that he seized Kawai Renji’s ankle and dumped him to the ground.
Now, straddling Kawai Renji, Kang-hae looked down at him and said, “You probably won’t understand this, but I’ve wanted to say this since earlier.”
“くだらねぇこと言ってねぇで、殺せ.”“Stop talking shit and kill me.”
“A yakuza is not a samurai.”
“……”
“You’re just trash.”
After saying that, Kang-hae drove his fist into Kawai Renji’s face.
Thud—
One punch caved in Kawai Renji’s cheekbone, and he lost consciousness at once.
Kang-hae rose slowly to his feet.
Then he picked up the sashimi knife lying near his feet.
And he stared at Kurozawa Kenji.
All the yakuza around Kurozawa Kenji drew their Japanese swords from their waists.
The tension in the air tightened to the breaking point.
The yakuza had the numerical advantage.
But they had all seen what had just happened.
They kept glancing at the Sword Demon of Kobe, lying unconscious on the ground.
They couldn’t believe it.
Even across the entire Okomono-gumi, and even among the organizations under the Yamaguchi-gumi, the people who could stand against Kawai Renji could be counted on one hand.
They drew their swords to protect the oyabun, but every one of them was thinking the same thing.
What if the knife in that Chosenjin’s hand comes flying at me?
“全員, 刀を納めろ.” “Everyone, put your swords away.”
Kurozawa Kenji said that, and the yakuza returned their blades to their scabbards.
Quiet relief washed through them.
Now the aftermath was the oyabun’s problem.
And Kurozawa Kenji looked at Kang-hae and said, “Impressive.”
Lee Gang-woo conveyed the words.
“Are you going to hand over Lee Jeong-tae?” Kang-hae asked.
For a moment, Kurozawa Kenji’s reply sounded almost like a threat.
If he didn’t hand Lee Jeong-tae over, the knife in Kang-hae’s hand might come flying straight at him.
“There’s a saying in Japan: if you win, you’re government troops; if you lose, you’re bandits.”
“……?”
“You seem stronger than the Jeguk faction, so I’ll do as you say.”
Kurozawa Kenji had not expected Kawai Renji to lose.
But the unknown man was simply too strong.
Facing him would only be a loss.
It was easier to say that of course one should take the hand of a strong man, and that at least would preserve some shred of justification.
Kang-hae found it absurd that a yakuza oyabun who had just been rattling on about honor changed his tune so quickly.
But what mattered now was finding Lee Jeong-tae.
“So where is Lee Jeong-tae now?”
“Will you make a deal with us?”
“Fine.”
“He’s staying at the Toyosaka Business Hotel.”
The instant Kang-hae heard that, he left the residence.
None of the yakuza could stop him.
* * *
Inside the taxi, Kang-hae was on his way to the Toyosaka Business Hotel Kurozawa Kenji had told him about.
And then the phone rang with a call from Lin Xiaojing, the twin sister’s older sister.
The awkward way she addressed him was the same as always.
But her voice wasn’t as playful as usual.
“What is it?”
“Sweetheart...?”
She had to be talking about Seong Ha-yeong.
Rather than deny that she was his sweetheart, what mattered more was why Xiaojing was bringing up Seong Ha-yeong at all.
“What about Ha-yeong?”
“What do you mean?”
“……!”
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