Chapter 72: After the Abduction...

Lunchtime had passed, and it was not yet half past two in the afternoon.

Tao Zhiming, having been home, stepped out again with his newly purchased bag.

The bag was bulging, filled with his "bricks."

Reaching the street, he glanced left and right as if looking for a taxi.

Then, a car turned the corner and pulled up.

When he saw the car stop in front of him, Tao Zhiming was a bit surprised. "You again?"

"That's right, I’m often around here. Want a ride, sir?" The man in the taxi grinned good-naturedly.

Tao Zhiming laughed. "Ran into you this morning, but now I do need to go somewhere."

With that, he pulled open the back door, cast a quick glance inside, and got in, shutting the door behind him.

The driver took both hands off the steering wheel, starting to ask, "Where to, sir—"

But before he could finish, he felt the icy, sharp edge of a blade against his neck.

"Don’t move. Put your hands back on the wheel." The voice was soft, Tao Zhiming having shifted to the middle of the back seat, his mouth close to the driver’s ear.

"S-sir, what are you—" The driver’s voice trembled, his eyes wide with terror in the rearview mirror.

Tao Zhiming smiled. "Just stay still."

The dagger rested at the man’s throat as Tao Zhiming reached forward, switched off the car radio, and unplugged the device connecting the car’s radio to what seemed to be a driver’s communication system.

The driver dared not even swallow, feeling the cold blade just below his Adam’s apple—it would take only a small movement for disaster.

"If it’s money you want—"

"Enough with the chatter," Tao Zhiming said calmly. "If you hadn’t insisted on approaching me this morning, I wouldn’t have confirmed you use the car radio to communicate. Now, drive. Slowly."

As he spoke, his other hand reached for the handbrake and the gearshift. "I’ll shift gears. First gear, slow and steady."

The driver really no longer needed to remove his hands from the wheel. Listening to Tao Zhiming’s calm and cold tone, his heart sank lower and lower.

Why? Shouldn’t he be the one caught off guard?

And besides, he hadn’t planned to take Tao Zhiming to the place the Boss mentioned anymore.

When Tao Zhiming saw the car finally start to move, he slowly slid the blade down, letting it rest lightly against the driver’s side, pointing towards his groin.

The threat to his life was less direct now, but it made the driver’s nerves even more frayed.

For Tao Zhiming, it was less conspicuous this way—he didn’t want passersby glancing in and noticing anything strange.

The driver stammered, "Sir, please… I beg you… Money, I… I…"

"Now, pull over slowly and park the car," Tao Zhiming said lazily, not bothering to explain anything. For next to the street corner ahead, Irie Yuta was already opening the driver’s door.

The driver’s eyes filled with dread when he saw Irie Yuta, as if realizing his situation had gone from bad to worse—now there were two of them.

But Irie Yuta’s smile was ambiguous as he spoke. "Obata Yosuke of North City Society, move to the back seat."

In his hand, he held the muzzle of a black pistol.

Obata Yosuke’s face turned ashen. Knowing there was no use pretending anymore, he asked in a low voice, "What is this about…?"

"Come on, move to the back," Tao Zhiming interrupted, pressing the blade more firmly to a vulnerable spot. "Or do you want to risk a serious injury, maybe even death, and try to bolt now? If you do as we say, things might not end so badly for you. What’s your choice?"

With one man blocking the side door, and another in the back with a knife at his privates, Obata Yosuke realized there was no choice at all.

This guy—though the Boss had said to be careful—how could he be so bold as to lay a trap specifically for him, striking the moment he got into the car, speaking with the tone of a hardened yakuza? Wasn’t he supposed to be a student at Tokyo University?

Feeling the gun pressed to his back, he awkwardly squeezed through the gap between the front seats and into the rear.

"Don’t get trigger-happy," Irie Yuta said, his expression complicated as he handed the gun to Tao Zhiming, his eyes seeming to ask, "Are you sure about this?"

Tao Zhiming’s face, however, was lit with excitement. "Don’t worry, let’s go."

He held a dagger in one hand and, for the first time, a real gun in the other—truly, his blood was running hot.

This unrestrained Tokyo was every bit as thrilling as he’d imagined.

Obata Yosuke didn’t dare gamble on whether the gun was real or not, because he had no idea what grudge existed between this young man and the client who had hired the Boss.

Was that grudge enough for a Tokyo University student to throw away his future and commit violence?

He had only one life, and he wasn’t about to risk it.

Besides… looking at the expression on this "student’s" face, Obata Yosuke felt he’d really fallen into a trap this time.

This was someone who got excited by violence.

...

In a dim, windowless room in the Shindo Group’s headquarters, Obata Yosuke was tied to a chair, making one last attempt to struggle. "Hey! Why have you brought me here and tied me up? I only started driving a taxi to earn money because the Boss told me to after I made a mistake!"

Tao Zhiming and Nara Yuma were both present, looking at him as if he were a clown.

How ridiculous—a yakuza driving a taxi for money?

Nara Yuma grinned viciously. "Seems like a beating is the only way to make you wise up."

With that, he moved in to strike.

Obata Yosuke’s eyes flickered with fear—this guy was a mad dog of the Shindo Group, nothing like the more reserved Irie Yuta.

Though, truth be told, the violence lurking beneath Irie Yuta’s calm was even more terrifying.

Fortunately, Irie Yuta stopped him. "Wait, the others aren’t here yet."

"Hey! Up to now, I could pretend none of this happened. Are you really trying to provoke a war between the North City Society and the Shindo Group?"

Irie Yuta sighed and slapped him casually. "Would it kill you to be quiet?"

Nara Yuma, as if given a command, began punching and kicking. "You’re in our hands now—don’t you get it yet?"

"That’s enough," Irie Yuta pulled Nara Yuma back. "We still need to question him."

Nara Yuma cracked his knuckles, growling, "I don’t know what the boss wants to ask, but you’d better just tell the truth."

Obata Yosuke’s body ached, his heart was heavy, and his head was spinning.

You don’t even know what you’re supposed to ask—so what’s the point of this beating?

Truly a mad dog.

It was clear now things had gone badly. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have dragged him to the Shindo Group’s main base and tied him up.

That meant the higher-ups were involved.

Strangely, as soon as they arrived, that Tao Daro left.

This puzzled Obata Yosuke. He’d clearly been the one to request that Irie Yuta from the Shindo Group do this.

Now, Irie said they were waiting for someone—who could it be? Surely not Suzuki Daiki, the legendary man himself?

After what felt like an eternity of anxious waiting, Irie Yuta finally left briefly and returned with someone.

It was Tao Daro.

Tao Zhiming glanced at the bruises on Obata Yosuke’s face and remarked, "Suddenly reminds me of the night I first met you two. Looking at this guy now, it’s enough to make one shudder. Yuta, that night you’d had a bit to drink—sure, you were brash at first, but you weren’t so quick to resort to violence as you are now."

"...Let’s get to business," Irie Yuta couldn’t be bothered to retort.

Who’d have known who you were that first night?

A proper yakuza, going out after a drink to handle business—what’s wrong with being a little cocky?

And in the end, just being a little cautious, he hadn’t actually beaten you up.

Who’d have guessed you’d become a client later?

At first, I didn’t even want to talk to you.

And now, here you are, cool as you please, swaggering into the Shindo Group’s office.

Violence, as I said, do you have some misunderstanding about what a yakuza organization is?

Besides, who was it that first used violence today to subdue this guy?

Look at you—excited all over again...

Tao Zhiming really was a bit excited; after all, this was the yakuza’s lair.

Looking at the low-level thug from North City Society tied to the chair, he squatted down with a cheerful smile. "Yosuke… tell me, why is North City Society trying to cause me trouble?"

Irie Yuta looked at him oddly.

It felt like, ever since he walked in, Tao Zhiming had taken on an even more dangerous aura.

"...What are you talking about? When did we ever try to cause you trouble?" Obata Yosuke, despite his pain, kept up his innocent act. "Really, I’ve just been driving a taxi for money. And anyway, wasn’t it you who asked the Shindo Group to have me brought here? What do you want? If this is a misunderstanding, we can still pretend it wasn’t meant as a provocation against North City Society..."

If he revealed any secrets now, he wouldn’t be able to escape punishment once back at North City Society.

What now, Dad? Please realize something’s wrong and come rescue me soon.

But Obata Yosuke knew very well—after being forced to take such a winding route, no one had any idea where he’d ended up.