The imperial Hotel's ballroom exuded luxury, a place where Japan's wealthiest and most powerful figures gathered under chandeliers that sparkled like stars. The atmosphere buzzed with murmured deals, fake laughter, and the subtle tension of unspoken rivalries.
Outside, a procession of sleek black cars lined up, each one carrying someone of significance. At the entrance, a long table draped in silk held the meticulously curated guest list, managed by a poised woman in an elegant black dress. Two guards flanked her, their sharp eyes scanning every guest for irregularities.
Amidst this display of prestige, a particularly striking figure emerged from a black luxury sedan.
Akihiro.
Heads turned almost immediately.
With his sharp, chiseled features, piercing golden-brown eyes and a devil-may-care smirk, he exuded an effortless charm that made women pause and men glance twice. His perfectly tousled dark hair, combined with the way his tailored black suit clung to his tall frame, made him look like he had stepped straight out of a magazine.
A group of elegantly dressed women near the entrance whispered among themselves.
"Who is that?" one of them murmured, eyes lingering on him.
"He's gorgeous."
"I feel like I've seen him somewhere before."
"He looks like a model… or an actor."
Akihiro, overhearing every word, flashed a lopsided grin as he adjusted his cufflinks. "Ladies, you flatter me," he said smoothly, winking as he passed.
Mai, walking beside him in a stunning deep blue dress, rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull. "Can you *not*?"
Akihiro leaned in with a smirk. "What? I can't help it if I was born *blessed.*"
Mai scoffed. "More like cursed with an unbearable ego."
He chuckled. "And yet, here you are, playing my devoted wife for the night."
Mai felt heat creep up her neck but refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
They reached the guest list table, where the woman in black greeted them with a polite but sharp gaze.
"Your names?"
Mai straightened. "Yagami. Satoru and Aiko."
The woman's manicured fingers skimmed the list before nodding. "Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Yagami."
Just as they were about to step forward, one of the guards blocked Akihiro with an arm.
"Security check."
Akihiro blinked. Then, with the most exaggerated offended gasp, he clutched his chest. "You wound me."
The guard remained stone-faced.
Akihiro sighed dramatically. "Fine. Check away, but be gentle."
The guard visibly tensed, and Mai had to physically hold back a groan.
After a quick pat-down that Akihiro clearly enjoyed making uncomfortable for the guard, they were finally waved inside.
As they stepped into the ballroom, Mai shot him a glare. "Did you really have to flirt with security?"
Akihiro grinned. "I like to keep things interesting."
Mai huffed. "Just focus on the mission."
His smirk softened into something unreadable as his gaze flickered across the room, scanning for their target. Hideo Tanaka was in here somewhere, and they needed to find him.
But Akihiro being Akihiro… he wasn't going to rush.
Tokyo – The Hospital Infiltration
Ren and Kaede stood in the sterile white halls of Nakamura Medical Institute, one of Tokyo's most well-guarded private hospitals. Unlike the warm luxury of the ballroom in Osaka, the atmosphere here was cold, clinical, and suffocatingly silent.
Their objective: Dr. Yusuke Hayashi.
But getting to him wasn't the problem.
Getting into the restricted ward he worked in was.
Not every doctor had clearance—only those with Level 4 security IDs, identifiable by a red holographic strip on their access cards. These doctors were under constant surveillance, and their cards were programmed to lock out if stolen.
Meaning… they had to get one in a way that wouldn't raise suspicion.
Ren, still dressed in his hospital gown disguise, leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze cold and calculating. His mind was already running through the most efficient ways to obtain an ID.
Kaede, in her stolen nurse uniform, tapped her chin. "So. We knocking someone out or cutting throats?"
Ren didn't hesitate. "Whichever gets the job done faster."
Kaede smirked. "See, this is why I like working with you. No hesitation."
Ren ignored her as his sharp eyes locked onto a potential target—a middle-aged doctor with a Level 4 ID clipped to his coat.
Dr. Ryuji Watanabe.
He wasn't their target, but his ID would get them into the restricted ward.
Ren turned to Kaede. "Distract him. One minute."
Kaede grinned. "Oh, I can do that."
She straightened her uniform, adjusting her posture into something more delicate and nervous. With wide, teary eyes, she approached the doctor in the hallway.
"Dr. Watanabe?" Her voice trembled. "I—I need help… My patient—he collapsed—blood everywhere—I don't know what to do—"
Dr. Watanabe's face shifted into immediate concern. "Where?"
Kaede gestured frantically toward an empty room.
The moment he stepped inside—Ren was behind him.
A swift, brutal strike to the neck.
Before Dr. Watanabe could even process what happened, Ren twisted his wrist with surgical precision, snapping his neck in one smooth motion.
Silent. Efficient. Over in seconds.
Kaede whistled. "Damn. No hesitation."
Ren didn't respond. He was already crouching, removing the doctor's coat and ID before dragging the body toward the back corner.
Kaede peeked into the hallway. "Coast is clear. Let's move."