Chapter 35: The Rats in the Foundation

I feel like I am in a movie. A terrifying, high-stakes, "I-am-going-to-die-if-I-breathe-wrong" movie. My job is simple: be a shadow, be "adequate." It is the hardest job I have ever had.

I am walking a half-step behind Ayako's right shoulder. Kenichi is a half-step behind her left. We are a triangle of "do-not-mess-with-us." And Ayako, she just glides. She does not walk. She glides.

The entire casino is aware of her. It is like a shark just entered the swimming pool. People part ways. The sound level drops wherever she goes. Men who look like they could buy and sell countries bow to her.

"Ojou-sama," a politician-type says, his face pale and sweaty. "What an honor to see you."

"Fukuda-san," Ayako says, her voice like silk. "You are enjoying my father's hospitality, I trust?"

"Yes! Yes! Of course!"

"Good," she says. "Your donations are appreciated."

She glides on. She is working. She is 'shaking down' a politician, with a smile. This is her world.

"That was inefficient," she mutters, just for me and Kenichi. "He looked too scared. He will not spend as much. A bad investment."

I just nod. What am I supposed to say?

We walk the floor. I am trying to observe, like she said. The security is insane. The men in black suits, they are not just "security." They are her men. They are Bokumuchi-kai. They are everywhere. But they are invisible. They are in corners. They are watching reflections.

And I am one of them. I am dressed like them. I am her 'suit'. This is the "wardrobe correction." This is not a "date." This is my new uniform. The thought is heavy.

We are standing near a high-stakes baccarat table, the kind with a velvet rope. Ayako stops. She is pretending to watch the game.

"There," she whispers, her voice a razor.

"What?" I whisper back, trying to scan the crowd.

"Do not look," she hisses. "Observe. To your left. The three men at the end of the bar. The ones in the 'cheap' suits."

I glance. Not a "look." A "glance." Three guys. They look yakuza. But they are wrong. Their suits are flashy. Too much silk. Their hair is a mess. They are 'loud'. They do not fit. In this place of quiet, old money and silent power, they are new money. They are 'street trash'. They look like the guys from the alley.

"They are the pests," she whispers. "They have been testing our security. Mapping our operations."

One of them, the leader, a guy with slicked-back hair and a nasty scar on his lip, gets up. He walks right to a man who is sitting alone at a small table. I recognize him. He is a CEO. Some tech billionaire.

The "pest" slides into the chair opposite the CEO. He leans in. He smiles. The CEO's face goes white. He is scared. The "pest" is poaching. He is "offering an alternative arrangement," just like her father said. He is declaring war. In her father's house.

"This..." Ayako whispers, and I can feel the rage coming off her. It is a cold, cold fury. "This is inefficient."

She turns. "Kenichi."

"Ojou-sama," Kenichi rumbles.

"Invite our guests to the private lounge," she commands. "They are overstaying their welcome."

"And the CEO? Fukuyama-san?"

"Leave him," Ayako says. "He has chosen his alternative. Let him enjoy it for now. His correction comes later."

My blood runs cold. Kenichi just bows. "At once."

He walks away. Not towards the pests. He walks to the head of security, a man with a scarred-out eye. They talk.

Ayako turns to me. Her face is calm. But her eyes... her eyes are on fire.

"Now," she says, "You will observe a correction. This is the final lesson for today."

"What... what is going to happen?" I whisper, my throat dry.

"We are going to take out the trash."

A few minutes later, Kenichi returns. He bows. "Ojou-sama. The pests have accepted your invitation. They are waiting in the lounge."

"Excellent," Ayako says. She turns and glides towards a "PRIVATE" door. She pauses. She looks back at me.

"Well? Come along, asset. The fun is just beginning."