“Is that all you know?” Ma?l asked. His voice sounded oddly kind to the naked man tied to the cold metal table.

  “I’ve told you everything I know that might help you rescue Kaori. For the rest, it's up to you.” Hiroaki replied.

  Ma?l paused to consider. It was obvious the yakuza was holding back a lot of information—decades spent in the underworld couldn’t possibly be summed up in a couple hours—but he’d given him tons already.

  Could he torture more truths from this man? Torture was hateful, but he was justified, wasn’t he? He had to know... No. He had given Hiroaki a chance to redeem himself and the man had talked willingly, knowing he was about to die. It was an unspoken deal he couldn't go back on.

  Ma?l pored over his notes. He’d recorded the man’s words on his phone, and written down the key points. He couldn’t verify the information, but everything seemed legit. At least, there were no inconsistencies he could spot.

  Masamune’s empire was shockingly vast, spreading through Japanese society like a cancer, and even reaching overseas, as evidenced by their Thai operations. And Hiroaki didn’t know everything. He was just a trusted hitman, after all—a high ranking one, true, but even he wouldn’t know the full scale of the organization. He claimed not know where Kaori would be kept either, but that was to be expected, unfortunately. Why would his boss tell him that when his job had been to stay behind to kill him? Still, he’d provided enough leads that could be followed. Eventually, he would find to someone who did know. That'd have to be enough.

  Ma?l looked at the man one more time, right in the eyes. Hiroaki held his gaze. He was calm now, almost at peace.

  “Very well. Are you ready to move on?” Ma?l asked, as he untied the man’s arms, allowing him to sit up.

  Death. It was time. Didn’t sound so bad, and Hiroaki nodded in appreciation. Death was usually violent. At least it was when he delivered it. Did he deserve courtesy of chosing his own? Probably not, but he wasn’t going to complain.

  “I would like to put my affairs in order. I have a niece back home, in Osaka.”

  Ma?l nodded, waiting for the man to continue.

  “I have a lot of money, but she doesn’t know about it. No one does. If I give you access to my funds, can you swear on your honor that you’ll give her half of it for me?”

  “Half?”

  “Yes, half. I’m leaving the other half to you. You will need it if you are to rescue your princess.”

  Ma?l bowed to the man. “Very well, I’ll take care of it after I rescue Kaori. You have my word.”

  “Bring me my laptop. It’s over there,” Hiroaki pointed to the corner of the room. Ma?l glanced at the killer, checking that his leg restraints were still on, and went for the laptop. He doubted the man would try anything, but why take the risk?

  It didn't take very long. A few minutes later, he stared at the screen in disbelief. Multiple bank accounts around the world, credit cards, cryptos, stock trading accounts.... all adding up to 8.7 million dollars. The man was giving him nearly nine million dollars, and that was just his half! The rewards for a life dedicated to crime. Numbers on a computer. Lot of good it did him. The amount seemed too high but he remembered what the assassin said earlier. Oroshi had paid $1 million, and that was just one job.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Between the contract fees and what they no doubt stole from their victims, could he really be surprised by this level of wealth? If anything, the man should have had more. Crime pays really well, when you are good at it.

  “Destroy the cards in my name. They can be tracked and there are cameras at all ATMs these days, they wouldn't do you any good, and they might help the authorities track my accounts. If they do, they'll freeze the funds and use the trail to catch up to you. If you need to buy stuff, use this company's card.”

  He picked a card for a wealth management company. “On paper, that's a small brokerage firm managing assets. You can sell shares and assets, and transfer money to all kinds of accounts and it'll look like the company's acting on behalf of different clients, which makes it hard to trace. Also the company has a dozen staff on paper. They don't exist, you can control everything online with this account. If you need more money, transfer funds from the other accounts into that company. When the time comes, tell my niece...” He paused, considering. What could this man tell his niece? Hi, your uncle was a professional killer. I killed him and here is the dirty money he left for you? That wouldn't—

  “Don't worry, I will take care of it.” Ma?l answered.

  “That's good,” Hiroaki nodded and pushed the computer aside. “I'm ready now.”

  “Very well,” Ma?l said with a soft voice. “Do you have a preference?”

  He pondered for a second. He could ask for a painless death and he was confident it would be granted. The thought also occurred to him that he might get hold of a weapon and try to kill Ma?l. If he asked for a proper Seppuku, Ma?l would have to give him a blade. And he would. Hiroaki knew it instinctively, the same way he knew that he stood no chance against Ma?l. With or without a blade. Maybe not even a gun would be enough to turn the tables in his favor at this point..

  No. No point trying to escape death. He should have died long ago, and this was perhaps his only chance to regain some of his honor. Seppuku. A brutal, painful way to die, but if this was his last action on Earth, he'll at least do it right.

  “I need a blade.”

  Ma?l nodded and untied his feet.

  Hiroaki slipped off the table and knelt on the floor. Ma?l placed his switchblade in front of him.

  How appropriate! His career began with that very knife, making his first kill at twelve. A minor boss with a taste for young boys. The man was careless, falling asleep as soon as his seed was spent. That night however, Hiroaki had spotted the blade inside the pants pocket. It called to him. He answered and blood poured all over the bed as he plunged the blade in the man's neck, over and over again. Under Masamune's tutelage, he had killed countless men, but his first was the only one etched in his memory. He could still see every glorious detail of that first kill.

  Hiroaki smirked as he inspected the thin, wicked blade. It had started it all, it was only fair it would end it too. He relaxed his belly and, without giving himself a chance to back out, he plunged the blade deep into his intestines and slashed all the way across his belly. He screamed, pain overwhelming his senses as he collapsed forward in convulsions, his blood gushing all over the floor.

  Ma?l watched as the last of the man’s life ebbed away from his body. Hiroaki had been a criminal, a contract killer, perhaps one of the worst men on the face of the earth, but he had died well and that had to count for something.

  Rest in peace, Ma?l muttered, finding no hatred for the man. This was no revenge, simply justice. He bowed at the prone shape lying on the floor. Hiroaki was but the first of a long list of men he would have to kill to rescue Kaori. He knew that now. He even knew some of their names.

  Better get to it then, he thought as he picked up his phone. He turned it back on. Dozens of missing calls. After an instant of hesitation, he tapped the “Return call” button.

  “Noi?”