‘What the hell is going on here?’
Nobuo couldn’t make heads or tails of this situation.
He was a martial artist. More specifically, a lowest-ranked grunt in a tiny gumi located in the remote corner of the Kansai region, Eihana-kai.
While a bottom-of-the-heap grunt in a regular Yakuza organization received barely enough stipends to cover their living expenses every month, organizations in the martial world offered far better compensation to their members.
Then again, such a thing was only possible because a martial art clan’s revenue was in another realm compared to a mere criminal organization.
As such, even the lowest-ranked gopher, like Nobuo, didn't have a lot to complain about. He was quietly confident that climbing up the career ladder by just a little bit would improve his life to the point of never being jealous of other people.
Helping him in his quest were Nobuo's skills. His gumi had already acknowledged him for them. A little more elbow grease, and he'd climb through his gumi's hierarchy in no time at all. And this thought made him optimistic about his life.
...Until this evening, that was. Unfortunately, his situation seemed to be changing way too quickly for his liking!
“Can you tell us what’s going on, sir?”
“Nobuo?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Shut your damn mouth, okay?”
“...Sir.” Nobuo obediently stopped talking.
He was currently sitting inside a bus packed full of his gumi's people. And the interior of this moving vehicle was eerily quiet. Nobuo's seniors and higher-ups, usually full of bravado and oozing confident air, were silently glaring outside the bus's windows, their expressions stiff.
‘Are we... going to war?’
The atmosphere was flowing that way, at least to Nobuo’s eyes. That had to be it, otherwise this many people moving at once didn’t make much sense. And the higher-ups wouldn’t have told the grunts to pack their weapons unless they were about to fight an enemy.
‘But... Why?’
Wars were something rare. Uncommon. However, it was also something inevitable for people calling themselves members of the martial world. Nobuo had already experienced two wars, even though he was a relative newbie in this neck of the woods.
The first one simply ended with everyone drawing their weapons and glaring murderously at each other. But the other one? Nobuo really had to put his life on the line and fight. The mood inside this bus was reminiscent of the moments leading up to that war.
Despite the signs pointing that way, something about this situation seemed off to Nobuo. If they were really going somewhere to fight a war, the higher-ups should have briefed the gumi's fighters on who they were fighting and where they were headed before moving out. Knowing who you were fighting helped, after all.
Besides, to Nobuo's knowledge, no organization was antagonizing Eihana-kai at the moment. If this conflict was between individuals, this many people wouldn't have been mobilized. Which meant something else might be going down here, but what...?
“Nobuo!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Stop looking like a brain-dead idiot and keep your mouth shut!”
“My apologies!”
Everyone was on edge. The higher-ups sitting at the front of the bus seemed to know something, but Nobuo didn’t dare ask them for clarity. After all, their expressions pretty much warned everyone not to talk to them!
‘Well, I guess we’ll find out when we get there.’
Nobuo silently stared outside the bus window. It’s been several hours since they started moving. However, this bus was still speeding along as if its brakes had stopped working.
Eventually, though...
“Everyone, get out!”
The bus that had been driving without any regard for its passengers slammed on its brakes and screeched to a halt.
‘We are... at the docks?’
Nobuo watched as his peers at the front of the bus orderly climbed outside. He joined the procession while glancing outside the windows. He could see large shipping containers on either side of the bus. And then, a massive crane and the ripples on the ocean's surface were visible between the tall container stacks.
In other words, Nobuo was staring at the stereotypical image of a container port. Coming here wasn't the weird part of this trip, though.
A harbor like this was expansive. And civilians were forbidden from entry after certain hours. The proximity to the ocean meant this was a sensible place to dispose of bodies as long as one went about it smartly.
As such, many organizations historically fought their wars in docks and container ports like this place. Noir films often using docks as scenes of a shootout weren't completely works of fiction, in other words!
However, it seemed Nobuo’s situation wasn’t anything like fighting a war.
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