CHAPTER 81: THE PERFECT PLAN
Tonight, aboard the cruise ship Espoir, too many impossible things had happened. Some of them were already bordering on "Underworld Legend."
But even now, as the night reached its crescendo, a scene unfolded that no one had anticipated—a moment so bizarre it defied rational explanation.
Through the monitors Baku had hijacked, everyone in the lower decks watched the situation in the VIP Grand Ballroom. Two "eccentrics" had appeared on the observation balcony, flanking the gallows.
The one in front was a sharp, refined old gentleman with white hair. His hair was styled in a meticulous 7/3 wave, perfectly groomed. He had two defining features: a neatly trimmed handlebar mustache and a massive, jagged scar that ran from his lower left jaw all the way up to his forehead.
He looked strikingly similar to Hikoichi Yagyo, sharing the same poised and elegant demeanor. However, due to the scar and his piercing gaze, his aura was far more lethal. He was a man who breathed the air of the battlefield, not the tea room.
Behind him, partially hidden in his shadow, was a young man.
He also wore a tailored black suit, his posture straight and disciplined. He radiated a cold, cutting intelligence. He had lustrous black hair combed back in a perfect arc and a single, striking mole between his eyebrows.
His eyes were his most unsettling feature. His irises were a deep, dark shade, yet they were impossibly clear. He moved them in wide, sweeping arcs, scanning the ballroom and everyone in it with an intensity that bordered on the supernatural.
Sensing the confusion in the room, the youth whispered a few words to the scarred old man.
The old gentleman looked pained, as if he were being forced to eat something sour. He took a deep breath and, in a low, gravelly voice, began to speak.
The old man moved his lips silently. The youth, hidden behind his back, provided the voice in a terrible, amateurish display of ventriloquism.
"CRITICAL... DANGER... THE... ALIENS... HAVE... ARRIVED...!"
"..."
Watching this through the screen, Kaiji Itou felt a migraine forming. "That was the worst joke I've ever heard. Even variety show comedians gave up on that bit twenty years ago..."
Akagi and Sadakuni, the two players at the table, remained silent.
Only Hikoichi Yagyo offered a response. He let out a polite "Heh... heh," though the sound was forced, as if he were trying to appease a very temperamental child.
Seeing the atmosphere drop to sub-zero temperatures, the old scarred man—Sadao Yagyo, the Number One Referee—coughed into his hand. "The audience is too small, my Lord. A joke of this magnitude requires a grander stage."
The youth stepped out from behind the old man, pointing a long, elegant finger toward the room. "No. There are many people here."
His finger rotated, sweeping past the fallen bald man, Sadakuni, Akagi, Kaiji, and the silent Hikoichi. Then, his gaze tracked upward, locking directly onto the primary security camera.
In the ballroom, there were no monitors. Theoretically, the youth couldn't see the people on the lower decks. Yet, as his finger passed the lens, every person in the lower hall felt as if he were pointing directly at them. His insight surpassed the boundaries of a video feed.
"And not a single one of them is laughing!"
Sadao Yagyo sighed, unable to defend his Lord's comedy routine. He simply went back to being a statue of violence.
Meanwhile, Sadakuni—viewing the scene through the micro-cameras on his collar—realized the situation. His detonator had been crushed. His partner's neck had been snapped by the scarred old man. The revolutionary's eyes burned with a dark, suicidal fury.
"You..."
Sadakuni drew a hidden blade from his sleeve and lunged at the scarred Referee. "I WILL HAVE YOUR LIFE IN EXCHANGE!"
ZIP!
The blade whistled through the air.
But Sadao Yagyo's hand was a blur. He didn't just parry; he slapped Sadakuni's wrist with the force of a hammer, vibrating the bone until the knife was launched from the man's grip.
"Filthy trash," Sadao muttered. He didn't even look at the man as he prepared a hand-blade strike aimed squarely at Sadakuni's temple. It was a kill-shot.
But his arm was caught mid-swing. Hikoichi Yagyo had stepped in, his hand firm on his brother's forearm.
Sadao glared at his twin. "What? You're saving him?"
"Hardly," Hikoichi replied with a thin smile. "But according to the rules of the gamble, Master Sadakuni is to be executed by hanging. Any other form of death is a violation of the verdict. I cannot permit it."
The two Referees stood locked in a stalemate of strength, neither willing to yield.
It was the youth, the Leader of Kakerou, who finally settled the matter.
"Ah, forget it. That's Sadakuni, right? In a Kakerou gamble, we must honor the result."
The youth rubbed his chin, his dark eyes shimmering. "After all... I am the Leader of the Kakerou Club."
Kaiji blinked. The Leader? That kid?
Souichi Kiruma—the Ruler of the Shadow World—ignored the debtors' shock. He turned toward Akagi and waved. "First, congratulations to our newest member. A perfect win for your debut, Akagi-san."
Akagi gave a shallow, respectful nod, waiting for the real point.
"Second—"
Souichi looked back at the camera. "I assume you can hear me? My thanks to the Kengan Fighter for defeating Referee Number Ten. You helped prune a branch that had grown... crooked. It was getting embarrassing."
"Your name is Ren Shiroki, yes? Thank you for the assistance."
Souichi paused, looking quite satisfied with himself. Kaiji, sensing the "End-of-Movie" vibe, finally spoke up. "Wait! Is it over? Are we free?!"
"Hm?"
Souichi spared Kaiji a single, distracted glance and nodded. "Yes. These two points are settled. Everything else that happened on this ship tonight... is irrelevant."
"Because very soon, this vessel will sail into international waters. And it will never return to shore."
Zawazawa... zawazawa...
Kaiji felt his lungs seize. Never return? What does that mean?!
Sadakuni, hearing his "Revolution" dismissed as irrelevant, let out a pained roar. "You think you've won, Kakerou?! My support is coming! The missiles will—"
"Sadakuni-kun," Souichi interrupted, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly casual tone. "You were stalling for time, waiting for the weapons ship to provide cover. But I'm afraid the cavalry isn't coming."
"Your backers were the IDEAL syndicate, were they not? IDEAL only chose you because you were a source of capital. Once you lost the gamble, your value became zero. It is only logical that they discarded you."
Souichi leaned back against the balcony railing.
"Minutes ago, to ensure no leaks, IDEAL's cleaners boarded your weapons ship and slaughtered your mercenaries to the last man. They were quite efficient."
"However... Kakerou's own 'Specialists' were right behind them. We neutralized the IDEAL hit squad and have taken formal possession of your ballistic missiles."
"As for the weapons merchant you hired? He fled into the harbor. He's currently swimming for his life. We won't find him."
Souichi looked at Sadakuni with a playful smirk.
"Anyway, managing that much military hardware is a headache. We need to minimize the evidence."
"Kakerou has entered into an agreement with the Teiai Group. We are purchasing the Espoir in its entirety. We will scuttle the ship in the deep ocean, using a 'Tragic Sinking' to bury tonight's activities forever."
"As for those of you on board..."
"Oh, Sadakuni-kun is being hanged, so he doesn't need to listen."
Souichi turned his gaze toward the camera again, addressing the lower deck.
"The rest of you—the mercenaries, the debtors, the staff—you will all be folded into Kakerou. You will become our guards, our laborers, our 'Shadows.' It's the only way to keep the secret."
"Don't look so sad! It's not forced labor. You'll be fed. You'll have a purpose. Some of you might even discover you have a talent for the life."
"And finally..."
Souichi's eyes sparkled. "That youth, Shiroki Ren. He possesses the 'Might' of a high-ranking Referee. If he is willing, I would be happy to offer him a position within the Club."
Souichi let out a long breath of pure contentment.
"Magnificent. Everyone wins. Everyone profits. It is the Perfect Solution. I really am a genius, aren't I?"
He looked out at the black ocean, his voice filled with a hollow, god-like certainty.
"The outcome is always perfect for me. My life is a series of victories. That is my Heavenly Destiny."
CRASH!
The main doors to the Grand Ballroom were kicked open.
A group of people marched into the room, their silhouettes framed by the light from the hallway.
Marco, Tonegawa, Baku, Kaji, and Kyara.
Leading the pack was Ren Shiroki. He walked straight to the center of the ballroom, stopping ten feet from the Leader of Kakerou. He met Souichi's dark, clear eyes with his own burning gaze.
The "Might" radiating from Ren was so intense it caused the air around the gallows to vibrate.
"There is no such thing as a 'Perfect Path,'" Ren said, his voice a low, steady rumble that commanded the room. "And that 'Destiny' you see? It's just a script you wrote for yourself because you're bored."
"So... don't you dare try to 'Decide' our lives for us."