Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

Ten seconds ago, Yuan Zhensheng picked up Gou Buxiang, braced himself against the car door with one hand, and leaned into the car.

"That's enough, you can stop now," the employer said on the other end of the walkie-talkie.

Kuwata Kenkichi breathed a sigh of relief and was about to ask him for a hand when he saw him raise the muzzle of his gun and, without the slightest hesitation, coldly pull the trigger.

Snapped.

With a soft thud, a bloody hole appeared on Kuwata Kenkichi's forehead. His head tilted back, and his body slumped inside the car, his face still bearing the expression of someone who had survived a close call.

Stop? Are you kidding me?

Yuan Zhensheng has a clear self-definition: he is just a weapon, a weapon that, once activated, will either kill the opponent or destroy them.

Once the arrow is released, there's no turning back. How can you stop just because you've pulled the trigger?

If every customer does this, how will he do business in the future?

He's an assassin, not a thug or a street thug. Assassins make money by killing; if you're not prepared to kill your target, don't place a job lightly.

The wind in the fields carried the scent of wheat and dispersed the lingering smoke from the gun barrels.

Yuan Zhensheng straightened up, limped, opened the gas tank cap, tore open his coat sleeve, reached into the gas can, scooped up the gasoline, then took the cigarette butt from his mouth and placed it upside down on his sleeve.

After doing all that, he threw the dog into the car, took only the muffler, and walked alone to the other side of the rice paddy.

Under the boundless night sky, a spark suddenly burst forth.

Boom!

The red glow illuminated the wheat fields, flames shot into the sky, and the burning wreckage of cars stretched the shadows of lone pedestrians, swaying back and forth.

……

The following day, the incident dominated the front pages of major newspapers.

The Asahi Shimbun ran a striking headline: "Yamaguchi-gumi branch leader Kenkichi Kuwata dies in the suburbs; his car burned, suspected revenge killing."

The report cited the police's initial investigation of the scene—the vehicle crashed through the guardrail, burned in the field, and a badly burned male body was found inside the vehicle. It also mentioned that as a militant figure on the Kanto front in the Yamaichi Rebellion, the death of Kuwata Kenkichi could trigger a new wave of turmoil in the underworld.

Some tabloids and weekly magazines used more sensational headlines, such as "Kanto Tiger Dies in Flames, Adding Bloodshed to Port Area Land Battle?" or "Deadly Showdown in the Suburbs at Night: The Death of the Leader and the Unextinguished Flames," with content often combining speculation about Kenkichi Kuwata's past underworld rumors and his recent real estate dispute with the Sumiyoshi-kai.

At the automatic newspaper vending machine on the street, people picked up newspapers, glanced at the headlines, and were already used to the fighting between gangsters, treating it as just another topic of conversation over tea.

Within certain specific circles, this news is being read and analyzed more carefully.

"Really...?"

In the familiar izakaya, Miura Tomo sat in a private room with sake and side dishes on the table. He muttered to himself while holding a newspaper, his expression unusually complex.

—"Kenkichi Kuwata, the branch leader of the Yamaguchi-gumi, was killed in the suburbs; his car was burned, suggesting a revenge killing."

That guy actually did it.

He was woken up by a phone call at four o'clock last night. His informant at the police station notified him immediately. Then, in just two hours, he received more than thirty calls. The entire intelligence circle was trying to find out who was in charge of this matter.

"Have you heard about the matter concerning Kuwata Kenkichi?"

"That 'Night Owl' is active again? No, that's not like him... You're well-informed, do you know who's behind this?"

"Miura, you were the one who connected us with that deal, right? I won't ask the employer, but the person who took the order... there was no such person in the information you gave me. Now the outside world is in an uproar, the Yamaguchi-gumi is offering a bounty, and the Sumiyoshi-kai and Inagawa-kai are also inquiring... Do you have any information about him?"

The phone rang almost nonstop all morning.

Some were colleagues who pretended to chat casually to get information, some were middlemen who subtly inquired about the employer's background, and there were even some people in the gray area who had dealings with the construction group.

Everyone's questions revolve around the same core issue: who exactly was the assassin who killed Kuwata Kenkichi overnight, under heavy protection?

Even a code name is better than knowing nothing at all.

Miura Tomo repeated the same words into the phone: "I don't know," "I've never heard of it," "It's probably some outsider."

With each phone call he hung up, the turmoil in his heart grew stronger.

Miura Tomoya understood the difficulty of assassinating Kuwata Kenkichi better than anyone else, because part of the difficulty was created by him...

After making the connection at the telephone club that day, he went to an izakaya for a drink, and then sold the information to the Yamake Group—meaning that the Yamake Group had made ample preparations in advance.

There was nothing he could do; Yamakane Group was his long-time employer, and every year they would spend a large sum of money to buy out any news that was detrimental to the organization.

Meanwhile, Eiji Satake, the owner of the telephone club who helped make the connection, was in a panic.

"Oh no...this is really a huge problem..."

He called Representative Shinomiya, but the other party neither answered nor returned the call. He was reportedly very angry, though it was unclear what he was angry about.

"Now that the matter is settled, you won't kick me when I'm down, will you...?"

Eiji Satake thought about it more and more and felt that this was possible. He hurriedly packed his things, opened the safe, took the gold bars and cash, and planned to go to Hokkaido to avoid trouble.

Unsurprisingly, the Yamake team was in an uproar.

If the head and the middle were killed one after another, and now even the team leader has been brutally murdered in the suburbs, his body burned beyond recognition, the high-ranking officials have been almost completely wiped out.

With no leader in sight, the remaining junior members of the dormitory, acting as top cadres, began to accuse and distrust each other in a power struggle, creating a tense atmosphere.

But on one thing, they quickly reached a consensus—it must be Sumiyoshi who did it!

Only the Sumiyoshi-kai had both the motive and the capability to carry out such a heinous act against them in Tokyo. The newspaper reports about the "Minato Ward land battle" further confirmed their judgment.

"Revenge! We must get revenge!"

"A blood debt must be paid in blood! The team leader cannot have died in vain!"

"Kill those bastards from the Sumiyoshi-kai!"

The flames of revenge burned fiercely among the members of the mountain construction team.

They were inherently militant, ruthless characters who had fought their way out of the mountain conflict. They didn't care about investigating evidence or waiting for orders from headquarters. Several mid-level cadres quickly gathered the remaining manpower and grabbed weapons—pistols, shotguns, samurai swords, and even automatic rifles.

That afternoon, several vans rushed into the port area, which is the core territory of the Sumiyoshi-kai.

Members of the Yamake group attacked several sex shops and construction companies controlled by the Sumiyoshi-kai, smashing the premises, opening fire, and engaging in a fierce gun battle with Sumiyoshi-kai members who rushed to the scene.

The streets were thrown into chaos, with gunshots, shouts, and the sound of breaking glass filling the air.

Caught off guard, the Sumiyoshi-kai initially suffered some losses, but quickly recovered and mobilized manpower to counterattack. The two sides engaged in a small-scale but extremely bloody firefight on the streets of the port area, with stray bullets flying everywhere and passersby fleeing in terror.

……

An unknown nobody, yet famous throughout the world.

Although no one knows his name, the echoes of his gunshots have resounded throughout Tokyo.