On January 10th, on a day that was far from ordinary, The Port Mafia's funds continued to climb steadily despite being drained at an alarming rate. The person supporting the Port Mafia boss's extravagant spending was nothing more than a young man in his early twenties.
He was a transmigrator.
His parents belonged to the Port Mafia. By blood, he was Japanese, nailed irrevocably to this land.
Here, his intelligence alone was not enough. He had been forced to learn humility and submission, to master cold calculation. In order to protect himself, he wove a web of lies that ensnared a French transcendent. Then, through a scheme that exchanged sincerity for sincerity, he lost himself and fell in love with a man who might one day bring about his death—Arthur Rimbaud.
To ensure that his lover would not develop murderous intentions toward him after recovering his memories, he fought desperately to climb higher. He forced himself to transform, to evolve, strengthening his influence, status, and power within the underworld, and even more importantly... honing the most difficult thing of all—his mind.
He crafted the persona of an "Analyst," hoping to make the false indistinguishable from the real.
He built a "warm and happy" family of four, hoping to preserve it forever.
He made Randou fall in love with him. That love was like a bubble—beautiful, fragile, and captivating. Swept along by the tides of the era, it eventually washed ashore and stranded itself upon the sand, reflecting seven-colored rays of light. Into this deception, he poured all the passion and turbulence of two lifetimes. He staked everything he possessed on the side labeled "victory," regardless of the consequences, regardless of the price.
Rather than being a brilliant "Analyst," a sharp-eyed "Investor," or a member of the "Scriptwriter Group" who possessed keen insight into human nature yet lacked the talent to manipulate it—
He was, instead—
The new generation's "Swindler" in the world of Bungo Stray Dogs.
Inside the Port Mafia boss's office, an elderly man with white hair sat upon the highest seat of authority within the organization. His health fluctuated between good days and bad, yet under the care of elite doctors and teams of nurses, his condition had improved somewhat.
The old man pressed a handkerchief against his lips to suppress a cough. A trace of gentle warmth squeezed its way into the corners of his deeply wrinkled eyes.
Kneeling on one knee before him was a young man.
In the old man's eyes, this person was a living treasure chest.
As an ordinary human with no ability whatsoever, he had mobilized the Port Mafia's liquid assets and carried out no fewer than a hundred short-term investments across countless industries and sectors. Through sheer skill, he had created a "miracle" within Japan's investment world. The enormous profits he generated far surpassed the money earned through criminal activities.
No matter how old or muddle-headed the Port Mafia boss became, he still understood one thing clearly:
He had stumbled upon an invaluable treasure.
A person like him, had it not been for the fact that his family background was completely tied to the underworld and left him unable to escape the Port Mafia, would have possessed the kind of talent that placed him above others in any corporation or institution dominated by ordinary people.
Unfortunately, this was the Port Mafia.
Here, ability users reigned supreme.
If he wanted to stand above ability users, the price he had to pay was far greater than the things valued by the outside world.
Ten billion U.S. dollars would have been enough for an ability user to walk up to the Port Mafia boss and openly demand a position as an Executive. Yet when it came to Asou Akiya, all he could obtain was the rank of Sub-Executive.
The entire organization was watching him.
To climb any higher, what he needed to prove was no longer his value or his wealth, but his reputation forged through violence and the hard power to back it up.
The Port Mafia boss was prepared to fulfill his promise and open the ceiling that had long been sealed above Asou Akiya's head.
The more chaotic and war-torn an era became, the easier it was for ordinary people to rise to prominence. They dared to charge forward, dared to fight for opportunities, and often paid far more effort than ability users ever did.
Looking across every illegal ability organization in Japan, there is currently not a single example of a non-ability user holding a high-ranking position as a purely administrative member.
Asou Akiya was neither a highly educated researcher whose academic credentials commanded respect, nor the son of a wealthy family blessed with connections and influence. He had started with absolutely nothing and built everything with his own hands.
To have reached this point was already an extraordinary achievement.
The Port Mafia's Analyst.
That title carried influence far greater than even his astonishing ability to make money.
Its reputation within the underworld was no less renowned than the titles borne by ability users themselves.
"Analyst, you did it."
The Port Mafia boss spoke in a hoarse, gravelly voice, stating an outcome that had already been decided. The other three Executives stood nearby as witnesses.
"From this day forward, you are an Sub-Executive of the Port Mafia."
"I will now impart to you the Mafia's lesson."
"The essence of the Mafia is to control rationality by any means necessary."
"Rationality..." Asou Akiya listened to those words and could not help looking up at the man.
He had thought he would see the calm, rational demeanor of a leader—something akin to the Boss Mori of the original story.
Reality, however, was entirely different.
The Port Mafia boss's face was filled with ferocity. His eyes were clouded and murky, like those of an aging lion staring intently at its prey.
To the Port Mafia boss, so-called rationality meant one thing:
For the sake of money, old rules could be broken without hesitation.
He would rather hand a position meant for an ability user to an ordinary man than allow those rules to stand in his way.
Yagishita Kazuyuki's lips twitched slightly.
Colonel gave him a look, warning him not to display a dissenting attitude on an occasion like this.
Among the only two colleagues he had left, Colonel deliberately spared a glance toward Nishida Shibashi. The man seemed to understand that this matter could not be stopped. Rather than wasting his energy, he simply stared blankly at the carpet, lost in thought.
After sitting quietly for a moment, the Port Mafia boss continued.
"You are entitled to one direct subordinate. You will possess the authority to decide that subordinate's life and death and may dispose of them as you see fit. Within the organization, that person's status will be second only to yours. They will also have the right to refuse orders issued by other Sub-Executives."
Asou Akiya listened attentively.
As he heard the explanation, he found himself thinking about the circumstances of the future Akutagawa Ryūnosuke under Dazai Osamu. These were details that the original work would never bother explaining. Only now, through his own promotion, was he gaining a clearer understanding of how the organization's hierarchy actually functioned.
"I heard that today is your birthday. The gift is on the table." The Port Mafia boss's exhaustion became increasingly apparent as he spoke. It was winter, and the cold seemed to sap his strength. "I am also giving you the position of Sub-Executive as part of the present. I hope you will not betray my... cough, cough... my trust."
The boss gestured for one of the Executives to retrieve the box from the table on his behalf.
The one who stepped forward was the Colonel.
The Colonel opened the box and found a scarf inside.
It was perfectly suited for the cold weather of January.
It seemed that the Boss had put at least some thought into choosing a gift for Asou Akiya.
"Congratulations."
The Colonel handed the gift to the now-standing Asou Akiya.
Asou Akiya accepted the box.
The moment he saw its contents, his expression changed.
Although he concealed the reaction ealmost instantly, it did not escape the notice of those present. The three Executives, all blessed with keen eyesight, were visibly surprised.
Was there something wrong with the gift?
"What is it?" Colonel asked in a low voice.
"Nothing."
Asou Akiya closed the lid and held the box against his chest. A gentle smile appeared on his face.
"I was simply a little surprised... I didn't expect it to be a scarf. I rarely buy this sort of high-end scarf in a single solid color."
The gift was a long red scarf, perfectly appropriate for the season.
It was festive enough.
Bright enough.
And also… more than fitting for the blood-soaked atmosphere of the Mafia.
"The Port Mafia has arranged a promotion banquet for you."
The Colonel offered another reminder.
"Make sure you attend it later. Let everyone get a look at you. Don't end up becoming the kind of person who sits in an office all day while nobody even knows what you look like."
Asou Akiya accepted the gesture of goodwill with a smile. "No problem."
He left the office while the other Executives remained behind to report on their work to the Boss.
Inside the elevator, his arms stiffened for a moment. Loosening his grip before the edges of the box were crushed by the force of his hands, he took out the red scarf and examined it. The complicated emotions hidden within his lowered gaze were impossible for the surveillance cameras to capture.
[Boss, if you give me something like this, I'm going to start reading too much into it.]
Winter, a scarf, the color red—each element seemed ordinary enough, yet together they resembled a dark web of fate slowly unfurling around him.
He returned to the ordinary office where he had worked for so long. As he sorted and organized his documents, the staff responsible for cleaning the office had already received orders to assist him with relocating.
One of the cleaners spoke in an ingratiating tone. "Mr. Asou, since you've been promoted to Executive Candidate, your new office has been arranged on the fifty-sixth floor. Sub-Executive offices are equipped with an archive room, a lounge, a changing room, and a bath. If you wish, additional facilities can also be installed, such as a bar counter, a small wine cellar, a television, a sound system, and other amenities. The keys are currently with Logistics. They've already cleaned and prepared everything for you."
Asou Akiya smiled. "Thank you. I understand."
He carefully packed away his confidential materials. Not long afterward, Ozaki Kouyou arrived to lead the way. Maintaining her usual serious and methodical demeanor, she said, "Sub-Executive Asou, I've been assigned to explain the responsibilities and privileges associated with the position."
As they walked, the envious gazes of the Port Mafia employees were impossible to conceal.
In the original story, Sub-Executives rarely even received the chance to appear on stage. Within the Port Mafia itself, however, they were unquestionably figures of immense importance. They could communicate directly with Executives and wield authority over ordinary members. The moment one became an Executive Candidate, a portion of the Port Mafia's connections and influence would be placed directly under their control. At a minimum, businesses such as casinos, bars, and clubs would fall under their name, providing everything necessary for a comfortable life. The hidden benefits were even more numerous.
For example, smuggled luxury goods, alcohol, cigarettes, and other consumables were distributed annually in designated quantities to the organization's upper ranks, eliminating any need for them to spend their own money on such things.
Even better, after Watanabe Yukisada's death the previous year, his territory and profits had been divided. Thirty percent had gone to the Port Mafia, while the remaining seventy percent had been handed to Asou Akiya. He was no longer a man whose name was attached to nothing more than a single house and a business vehicle, nor the sort of husband who hesitated to let his wife spend money at a casino.
From now on, he could simply let Randou enjoy himself at the casinos under his own ownership. Money would enter through the left hand and leave through the right. No matter how much Randou gambled, it would ultimately return to him anyway.
Asou Akiya thought about the amount of money he had earned for the Port Mafia, then looked again at the seemingly abundant benefits laid out before him. Unable to help himself, he shook his head with a laugh. He genuinely could not tell whether he had profited from this arrangement or come out at a loss.
In life, sometimes it was best to embrace a little confusion.
He first went to the Logistics Department to collect his keys and supplies. Afterward, under Ozaki Kouyou's guidance, he headed to his new office, officially taking possession of his territory and experiencing the privileges that came with life as a Sub-Executive.
When it came time to visit Executive Nishida, Asou Akiya noticed the confusion in Ozaki Kouyou's expression. Her face practically seemed to be asking, "On such a happy day, why would you deliberately go looking for trouble?"
But this was not trouble at all.
He was going to collect his promotion gift from Nishida Shibashi.
Asou Akiya lightly brushed his shoulder as though dusting away a speck of dirt and said, "Take a look. Doesn't it seem like I'm still missing something?"
"Hm?"
Ozaki Kouyou circled around him once, examining him from head to toe. Possessing a refined sense of aesthetics, she once again concluded that a family-oriented man like Asou Akiya carried a unique charm. His three-piece suit was impeccably tailored and gave him a thoroughly mature air. Unlike Ma Kenichi, who occasionally revealed traces of awkwardness and restraint, Asou Akiya appeared completely at ease in his own skin.
After looking him over carefully, she said, "An Executive coat?"
Asou Akiya smiled.
"Exactly."
Ozaki Kouyou froze.
A moment later, she realized what he was implying.
"You intend to ask Executive Nishida for one?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "How could he possibly give you a gift? You'd be better off buying it yourself!"
Asou Akiya responded with a famous saying from China.
"A newly appointed official always sets three fires."*
*{Note: The Chinese saying "新官上任三把火" (literally, "A newly appointed official sets three fires upon taking office") refers to a person who has just been promoted to a position of authority and immediately takes bold actions to establish their presence, assert their power, or implement changes.}
Ozaki Kouyou stared at him blankly.
She did not understand it at all.
Temporarily parting ways with little Kouyou, Asou Akiya headed toward Executive Nishida's office on the fifty-ninth floor. During the time he had been busy moving into his new office, Nishida Shibashi had already returned.
Knock, knock.
Asou Akiya knocked on the door openly and without the slightest hesitation.
"Executive Nishida, it's Akiya."
Inside the office, Nishida Shibashi suddenly felt the urge to cover his ears.
The debt collector had arrived.
The employees working on the fifty-ninth floor were all subordinates of the Executive and were naturally familiar with Asou Akiya. Seeing him come looking for Nishida Shibashi, they were all visibly shocked. Quietly, they began speculating among themselves about what exactly was going on.
The employees on the fifty-ninth floor all worked under Executive Nishida and were quite familiar with Asou Akiya. When they saw him come looking for Nishida Shibashi, every one of them wore an expression of surprise, quietly speculating among themselves about what could possibly be going on.
Only after a full minute of knocking did the door finally open.
The man inside pulled Asou Akiya into the office with a frosty expression, then turned toward the employees outside and barked, "Shouldn't you all be doing your jobs? Get back to work!"
With that, Executive Nishida, his small braid swaying behind him, stormed toward the changing room. A moment later, he returned carrying a newly tailored black overcoat and threw it at Asou Akiya.
"There, satisfied now? Take it and get lost."
Asou Akiya deftly tore open the packaging bag and shook out the black coat. Then he looked at Nishida Shibashi and gestured for him to continue with the next step.
As a man with a certain sentimental attachment to these traditions, he firmly believed that the process had to be followed properly.
Nishida Shibashi: "..."
Nishida Shibashi felt utterly powerless. He sincerely had no idea what kind of person he had ended up cultivating.
The combat-oriented Executive, four years older than Asou Akiya, gritted his teeth and stepped forward. Forcing a fake smile onto his face, he personally draped the gifted black overcoat across Asou Akiya's shoulders.
In that very instant, Nishida Shibashi seemed to experience a strange and inexplicable sense of gratification.
Perhaps that was precisely where the significance of the ceremony lay.
His contribution had also been part of Asou Akiya's journey toward becoming a Sub-Executive. It was Nishida Shibashi who had taught him how to survive the struggles and power games among the Mafia's upper ranks. He had watched Asou Akiya grow from a complete novice who had barely killed anyone into a "desk worker" who understood the daily routines and mentality of combat-oriented Executives better than most.
In a stiff voice, Nishida Shibashi said, "Congratulations."
The inherent scholarly and refined air surrounding Asou Akiya diminished considerably beneath the symbolic black overcoat of a Sub-Executive. Anyone who looked at him now would inevitably be struck by the aura of authority that came with being one of the Mafia's upper echelon—someone who held the power of life and death over others.
The status and position that Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya had obtained at the age of sixteen had taken Asou Akiya eight long years to achieve. Making full use of every advantage afforded by being a transmigrator, he had climbed from a low-ranking errand-running employee to a translator, then to a trusted confidant of the Port Mafia Boss. Finally, on the day of his twenty-fourth birthday, he had exchanged all of that effort for this precious and hard-won black overcoat.
He raised a fist to his lips and smiled, genuine happiness shining through.
Things were no longer what they had once been.
He finally possessed the capital necessary to ensure that no one within the Port Mafia could look down on him.
"Mr. Nishida, how old were you when you became a Sub-Executive?"
"Hah. I became a Sub-Executive in my second year after joining the Port Mafia."
"..."
How was this man so utterly incapable of saying anything pleasant?
"Please say something appropriate for the occasion."
Under Asou Akiya's increasingly chilly gaze, Nishida Shibashi was forced, through an order manipulating his will, to comply against his wishes. Looking as though he wanted to throw up, he said, "Asou Akiya, you are the most promising Sub-Executive in the Port Mafia. Compared to you, all the other Executives are brainless idiots who don't know how to use their heads! Beneath your brilliance, I fade into complete insignificance. Even all the money I earn isn't worth as much as what slips through the gaps between your fingers!"
Asou Akiya applauded.
"Well said!"
Nishida Shibashi was so furious that his eyes nearly rolled back into his head.
Meanwhile, Asou Akiya felt utterly refreshed.
"Get out!"
Driven out amid Nishida Shibashi's vicious shouting, Asou Akiya walked out of the office in high spirits. Draped in his brand-new black overcoat, he strode away with swagger and confidence, shattering the metaphorical glasses of every employee who witnessed the scene.
How had he done it?
How had he managed to get Executive Nishida—a man who despised him so thoroughly that he probably dreamed of stuffing him into a sack and beating him—to personally give him a coat?
Back then, he had been so powerless that Executive Nishida could draw words on his face as a form of humiliation.
Now he had completely turned the tables?
Surely Executive Nishida must have had some kind of leverage in Asou Akiya's hands?!
Countless shocked guesses and wild speculations spread through the minds of the Port Mafia members.
The effect of this unconventional version of "a newly appointed official's three fires" was astonishingly successful. Rather than quietly assuming the position of Sub-Executive, Asou Akiya had deliberately created a sensational piece of news.
The first fire had spread directly through the upper ranks.
Within a single day, the incident had become the hottest topic of gossip throughout the Port Mafia.
And by openly standing atop Nishida Shibashi's apparent concession, Asou Akiya's reputation acquired an additional edge of intimidation and menace.
After all, everyone knew one thing:
Executive Nishida, whose status still stood above that of a Sub-Executive, was not the kind of man who would ever swallow such humiliation quietly and let the matter rest.
The fact that he dared to do something like this... only demonstrated just how much confidence he possessed.
...
[My love, I've just become a Sub-Executive. Have you heard the news yet?]
[I know you're busy too, so there's no need to reply right away. We'll see each other at the promotion banquet this afternoon.]
[I simply wanted to share my happiness with you.]
[And also...]
[I love you.]
[Without you, there would be no me today.]
...
Within the Black Lizard unit.
Hazama Kan'ichi had been promoted to Deputy Director of the Logistics Department. Naturally, Asou Akiya had also arranged a good position for Randou. At the beginning of the new year, he had directly transferred him into the Black Lizard.
Ten minutes later, Randou checked the text message on his phone.
A faint smile tugged at his lips as the frost that had settled upon his eyelashes trembled and fell away.
"Akiya accomplished what he set out to do."
Randou had witnessed his boyfriend's efforts with his own eyes and kept them firmly in his heart. He knew that Akiya had wanted to secure his position through genuine ability and hard work rather than soaring to the top in a single leap by relying on the advantages of an ability.
Shivering slightly from the cold, Randou slipped his phone back into his pocket.
There was the promotion banquet this afternoon.
And tonight, they would return home to celebrate his birthday.
The two little cats at home had already gone behind their backs to buy things for the occasion.
Breathing out a plume of white mist into the winter air, Randou activated his golden subspace. His figure slipped soundlessly into the home of the target that the Black Lizard unit had been assigned to eliminate.
In a quiet voice, he said,
"I need to keep working hard as well."
Akiya had become a Sub-Executive. As for him... perhaps he should set his sights on becoming an Executive.
There was no way he could allow himself to fall behind his boyfriend.
Yes.
That was absolutely not because an Executive's office was larger than a Sub-Executive's office.
Not at all.
...Just when would he finally be able to spend his days playing around in his office?
The French cat was troubled.
Troubled French Cat.jpg