No one understands the laws of Collider better than me.

"Why? Didn't you call me Little Finger? Besides, this young master also wants to see it."

One is Zhou Yu, the other Huang Gai; one is willing to hit, the other is willing to be hit. Isn't that a good thing?

The yakuza and conglomerates were both shocked and furious. They cursed Kitahara Masaki for his actions, knowing full well that the previous deal was now impossible to continue. The twisted concept that cutting off someone's livelihood was like killing their parents was deeply ingrained in their minds. However, because they had always lived a life of luxury and bullying the weak, they hadn't yet realized the dire straits they were facing.

"Bodyguards! Bodyguards!"

The group of people, who were starting to get scared, shouted loudly, but no one answered.

Kitahara Masaki smiled. The moment the fireworks burst open, Chianti and Cohen would begin their sniping, targeting the bodyguards outdoors, while Vodka would stand at the intersection to make sure no one was alive. This was the organization's consistent style.

"Murata, don't think you can get away with cutting off your little finger after doing something like this. You little bastard, do you even know your own limitations..."

An elderly yakuza man, dressed in a high-class kimono, spoke with an air of superiority, giving Kitahara Masaki a headache.

So he pinched the chopsticks on the table between two fingers and threw them forcefully. The high-speed flying chopsticks hit the old man directly in the eye, causing him pain just like that spoiled brat. Immediately, another cooked shrimp appeared on the table.

"Honestly, how many times have you guys made these pointless deals? You all seem quite adept at it. Even the real high-ranking executives from the conglomerate haven't come anymore. I guess you've already swallowed up many companies this way. I really don't understand. This crude way of doing things is unbearable to watch. And didn't anyone tell you—never give an assassin a weapon advantage?"

Before anyone could grasp the meaning of his words, they rushed to check on the old man. The three short, stocky men who had been standing beside Kitahara Masaki were now kneeling on the ground, no longer cowering like shrimps, but clutching their throats and collapsing helplessly. The weapon that had slit their throats was the very dagger they had overlooked.

Perhaps it was because someone had finally died that the secretary from the conglomerate finally let out a scream, as if the previous scenes had all been fake.

"Don't worry, it will be your turn soon."

Chapter 181 The Boys Who Were Shot

Wow! ...

The thugs charged toward Kitahara Masaki. Several men who tried to grab him had their foreheads pierced and fell to the ground, frozen in place. Perhaps they thought that their bear hugs would be frightening, but in reality, they only evoked disgust. Once Kitahara Masaki had the dagger, his attack range was already much longer than theirs. When they were wide open, the dagger was already pointing at their foreheads.

Drink it!!!

Then several more people rushed forward, desperately trying to grab Kitahara Masaki's right hand. They thought that the weapon in his hand made Kitahara Masaki kill people like chickens, but they didn't see the difference in their speed at all.

Using his agility, he easily dodged the attacks of these minor characters. As they fell onto the tatami mat, Kitahara Masaki kicked them directly in the chin, and these idiots were easily knocked unconscious.

"Redeem yourself, Murata!"

Finally, someone retrieved the weapons that were originally stored in the storage room. Daggers and knives were nothing new, and pistols were not unusual either. What surprised him most was that the first person to stand in front of him was a man wielding a neon knife. Judging from his gait and posture, he had clearly trained.

"This is the renowned sword passed down through generations of the Naokishin Keiryu school—Dōda no Kami. Today, you are fortunate enough to die by this sword; it is your greatest honor! Dōda no Kami does not kill nameless individuals. Quickly, state your true name!"

This pretentious neon-style swordsmith uses the most important part of a knife—the blade—yet this guy adorns the tsuba (handguard) and hilt with gaudy decorations. The hilt band is a contrived, snow-white, and the eyeband even features a tiger crest. Despite the elaborate decorations, the blade looks dusty and lacks any sharpness; to put it bluntly, it's just a stick.

"Have you ever actually used this knife?"

"Enough with the nonsense, state your name!"

"Ha, Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, Himura Kenshin!"

Kitahara Masaki stomped his left foot hard, shattering the tatami mat. As he leaped up, he swiftly unleashed a slash, a streak of silver light flashing towards the man wielding the neon sword.

"Masao Hara Takeru! Come on!"

Hara Kenjiro retreated swiftly, falling backward to dodge Kitahara Masaki's slash. Then, he launched a counterattack from below, full of confidence. He had already imagined the scene of the man in front of him being cut down, because there was nowhere to use as leverage in the air, so there was no way he could dodge the slash.

However, what he didn't expect was that he himself had offered up a place to use as leverage. Kitahara Masaki pulled down the dagger that had missed its mark, and like a dragonfly skimming the water, he changed his body shape by relying on the force of the opponent's slash. His twisted body stood straight like the person standing on the tatami, and he floated down onto Hara Kensuo's head.

Kitahara Masaki placed one foot on Hara Kenjiro's head as casually as if he were stepping on a pebble on the roadside.

"Bastard!"

Enraged by this insult, Hara Kenjiro threw a thrust upwards. His speed was decent, but his intention was too obvious and was immediately seen through.

With a slight twist of the dagger in his hand, he deflected Hara Kenjiro's neon sword, sending it flying off course.

"Nisnei!!!"

The sharp blade flashed silver streaks, the longer neon knife like lightning piercing through dark clouds, but Kitahara Masaki's dagger completely ignored the neon knife's strikes, hitting the man's lung directly. As the man gasped in anger, Kitahara Masaki followed up with a kick, and just like in a street brawl, Hara Kensuo was beaten senseless by a street thug's fighting style.

"Yuan Jianjun! We've come to help you!"

Several burly gangsters gripped their daggers and lunged forward. As one of the men slashed at Kitahara Masaki's head, Kitahara Masaki suddenly crouched down and rolled. The man who had missed his strike had no time to turn around and defend himself, and was punched in the side by Kitahara Masaki. He crashed through several layers of paper doors before falling to the ground. The pain from the broken ribs caused him to faint.

The second gangster, gripped by fear, raised his iron rod high and brought it down on Kitahara Masaki's head. Unfortunately, his strength was weakened by fear, and before the rod could even fall, Kitahara Masaki grabbed his right fist holding the rod. As a result, his hand was twisted 180 degrees, but his arm didn't follow. The man with his broken hand joint didn't even have time to scream before he was knocked unconscious by his own iron rod.

As for the third place, he slipped on the soup on the tatami mat, and his head was hit like a baseball by Kitahara Masaki, and he was eliminated because no one caught it.

"Damn it, Himura Kenshin, who exactly are you? Why have I never heard of a martial arts style like the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu before!?"

Seeing that Hara Kenjiro was starting to tremble, Kitahara Masaki shook his head.

There are plenty of things you haven't heard of. Alright, alright, it's time for you to get involved. Or rather, I'm getting tired of this. They call themselves a bunch of yakuza, but not a single one of them can actually fight. These days, skilled people can take jobs on the dark web on their own. Why would they need to join a place like the Hojo Alliance, which seems powerful but is actually full of ulterior motives?

Kitahara Masaki strode forward, quickly dodging Hara Kenjiro's seemingly impenetrable but actually flawed swordplay, and the iron rod struck his lung once more.

Goo!

Hara Kenjiro made a comical, frog-like sound as the moderately forceful blow squeezed all the air out of his lungs, like water flowing out of a sponge, and also took away all his strength.

However, just before falling to the ground, Hara Kenjiro suddenly surged with energy, leaning forward and opening his arms to grab Kitahara Masaki's waist, trying to drag him to the ground to fight at his joints, and then, with the support of his comrades, riddle him with bullets.

"Sorry, I don't appreciate men's hugs."

The iron rod had already been withdrawn after hitting his lungs. Just before Hara Kenjiro touched Kitahara Masaki, the iron rod, swung backhand, slammed into Hara Kenjiro's cheek like a high-speed train. The result of the huge impact on his face was that he spun around in the air like a top, and several broken teeth danced in the wind.

Kitahara Masaki took a step back to avoid getting his clothes dirty with the saliva he spat out.

"Fire! Fire!"

With his speech slurred, Hara Kenjiro shouted, "Now that someone has brought a pistol in, we should shoot!"

The gangsters behind them, who had been trying to avoid accidentally injuring friendly forces and because the gunfire would attract the police, no longer cared about that. They pulled back the safety and started firing wildly.

"No, didn't you guys ever think about how many people are around me?"

Kitahara Masaki lifted up the comical spoiled brat who was clutching his right hand only to find his left hand bleeding, then clutching his left hand only to find his right hand bleeding, and his airborne body deflected all the bullets.

After being tossed into the air, he fell heavily back to the ground.

"After the cremation, it'll probably yield three pounds of bullets."

Chapter 182 You're really cunning.

demon!

This man who calls himself Kenshin Himura is an absolute demon!

The people who collapsed to the ground had only one thought left about Kitahara Masaki, whose clothes hadn't even gotten a drop of blood yet.

"The first victim was this pampered young master. He probably didn't even know how to greet people politely. But if we wait until later, someone like him will probably be killed within a week in Mihua."

Kitahara Masaki picked up Hara Kenjiro's neon sword. Although the sword's sharpness had decreased considerably, it was still more than enough to cut through these people's bodies.

"Ahem, Mr. Himura, please spare our lives! If you have any grievances, please tell us, and we will report them to our employer as quickly as possible! Also, we will sever all ties and cooperation with the Hojo Alliance right now. Your grievances with the Hojo Alliance are none of our business. We are merely representing a few conglomerates. Please do not make a mistake for yourself!"

She's all soft and tough, begging for mercy first and then flexing her muscles—what a great secretary for a conglomerate! But actually, my real target is you guys.

Kitahara Masaki remained silent, unmoved by their joking remarks. He knew all too well that those who had spent a long time in the conglomerate were generally two-faced, saying one thing to someone's face and another behind their back. Their current subservience was merely a facade; once they were gone, they would undoubtedly hire even more powerful assassins to hunt him down. One could say that the Suzuki Group was an exception among conglomerates. Even their in-laws, the Tomizawa Group, produced a murderer.

This group of people consider themselves members of the nobility, or at least lackeys of the nobility, so when speaking to those they consider commoners, they can't help but use their own set of rhetoric.

However, Kitahara Masaki wasn't going to tolerate them. He picked up an iron rod and, like a grandfather beating his grandson, beat the secretary's head from a '口' shape into a '凹' shape.

"Stop talking nonsense to me."

Since there are no cell phones in this area, Kitahara Masaki is still waiting for Gin to come and contact him.

"My God, Yawenyi, you've gone too far again. Ugh, this is disgusting."

Just as Kitahara Masaki was about to test just how sharp the neon knife was, Vodka walked in through the outer door. When he saw the messy scene, he couldn't help but wave his hand in front of his nose in disgust. After all, he had just come from a place where he had just woken up and was immediately hit by the strong smell of blood, which made him somewhat dissatisfied.

"Then why don't you come next time? Shouldn't you be prepared for things to turn out like this when you send me on a mission? What did Gin say?"

"Big brother has told you that you can start faking the scene. I've already brought the gas and other things to fake the scene."

"That's it? Doesn't Potter need to say anything more to these secretaries? They want to arrest Potter. Ha, those damn idiots."

“No need. Potter said that this information is enough to make those people back down. If we go after those conglomerates and underworld leaders, it will inevitably alert the police. She said that quickly acquiring the Yan family’s assets is her most important task right now, and this is also what ‘that person’ wants.”

Kitahara Masaki shrugged, indicating that he would obey if it was the boss's wish.

"How many bodyguards are there outside?"

"It was alright. There were only about twenty people. They were basically all sniped by Chianti and Cohen. I just broke their necks when I was finishing them off."

"That's actually quite a lot. Are we going to move them all in?"

"Yes, that's why my brother asked me to help you. It would be too slow for you to carry it all by yourself."

Kitahara Masaki and Vodka carried the bodyguard's corpse into the Japanese-style room where the secretary and the yakuza were discussing matters. The man was so terrified that he didn't even have the strength to stand up. However, as more and more bodyguards were brought in, some people understood what Kitahara Masaki and the others were planning to do. One of the yakuza's high-ranking henchmen quietly stood up while Kitahara Masaki and Vodka went out to move the bodyguards, and then hurriedly ran to the backyard, intending to climb over the wall and escape.

Just as he climbed the wall, he thought he had finally escaped, but the sniper Chianti, who had already aimed at the top of the wall, shot him in the head, and he staggered back into the backyard.

"Oh, you don't actually think you can escape, do you?"

Kitahara Masaki quickly arrived behind the wounded man after the gunshot, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him back.

"Ya Wenyi, remember to collect all the bullets. Brother Gin said we need to make the forgery look convincing."

After speaking, Vodka, who had already brought in the bodyguards, took out tweezers and began to remove the bullets remaining in the bodyguards one by one. This was the kind of work that Kitahara Masaki disliked the most, because it was easy to get his clothes dirty and was very troublesome. These trivial matters should normally be done by the floor cleaning team, but now, due to a shortage of manpower, members like Kitahara Masaki had to do it personally.

"Where's the vodka guy, the one who's in charge of cleaning up the floor?"

"Ah, the Japanese Public Security Bureau is pretty capable. They couldn't find any trace of anyone with our name on the liquor, so they started targeting the lower-level members. Many of our informants in the underworld have been arrested, as well as the people in charge of cleaning up the mess. This has slowed down our infiltration efforts considerably..."

Sure, Amuro Tooru is really impressive.

While listening to Vodka talk about the organization's recent events, Kitahara Masaki took out sushi and sashimi that hadn't been served yet from the kitchen. He ate and drank sake with Vodka while picking out the bullets.

"Wow! These guys are eating really well."

"It's a pity that it doesn't benefit the brain; eating it would be a waste."

After hearing Kitahara Masaki's words, Vodka felt something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He scratched his head and then let it go.

"Yawenyi, I've cleaned this place up."

"Ah, I've got this sorted out too. Luckily you brought the paint."

"Chianti, how's it going? Has anyone climbed out yet?"

"No, damn it, hurry up, you guys eat! Listening to you eat is making me hungry!"