NOVEL WEB Side Story 10
Side Story 10. Retribution
In the living room of his own home, Yamanaka trembled, his shoulders shaking as he stared at the scene before him. On the table in front of him lay stacks of cash.
The next morning, Tou had come to visit immediately and paid off his debt. It was unbelievable. It was clear he had no intention of selling adulterated bread. After all, his face was bright, without a trace of grief. If he were the kind-hearted Tou he knew, he should’ve been depressed.
And the source of that money was easy to guess.
It was his own money. No—money that should’ve been stolen. The night before, while drinking, he’d checked his pocket to count the cash, only to find it empty. The thugs with him had the same problem—their pockets were empty too. They’d frantically searched but found nothing.
When Tou came to repay him, Yamanaka realized the money had been taken back. But he couldn’t very well say, “This money was stolen from us!” So, gritting his teeth in frustration, he accepted it.
“Damn bastard! How the hell did you take the money back? A Skill? You have that kind of ability?”
After Tou left, Yamanaka slammed the table so hard his hand turned red, wincing in pain.
“Tch. Guess I’ll have to warn those guys from yesterday. And I’d better put in a request to have the bastard who pulled this crap killed. ………What was it again? The new boss’s name was Numata, right?”
He didn’t know the details, but after the recent gang war, Eitai had died, and Numata, the second-in-command, had taken over as boss of this district. Yamanaka stood up, reluctantly grabbed a hefty stack of cash as a congratulatory gift for Numata, called his guards, and left the mansion.
Numata, Eitai’s successor, had set up his base in a rundown apartment building. It stood on the border between the middle-class residential area and the slums lined with row houses, occupying the entire structure.
The cracked, grimy windows were taped up with duct tape to keep the glass from shattering. Each floor housed thugs with nasty faces, while Numata himself lived on the top floor.
The room had a sofa, a table, shelves along the wall, cheap-looking trophies of unknown origin, and tacky paintings. The interior was shabby overall.
Inside, Numata sat hunched on the sofa. His guards were busy cleaning, scrubbing stains off the walls. As for Yamanaka, who had come to visit Numata—
“I got robbed! It’s true! On my way here, all the money I brought as a greeting was stolen!”
His face bruised, clothes torn and filthy, Yamanaka sat across from Numata in a pitiful state, shouting.
Numata nodded sympathetically, then turned to the man sitting beside him.
“Aww, that’s too bad, huh? Did ya see what the guy looked like?”
The middle-aged man in a dress shirt and jeans, sitting with his legs crossed, oozed fake concern. He acted even more important than Numata, the boss of this district. And in fact, he was more important. His name was Amano Sakimori. With summer approaching, he’d finally ditched his all-black outfit.
Who the hell is this guy? Yamanaka frowned in confusion but slammed the table in anger.
“I don’t know! They attacked from behind! My guards were knocked out before they even realized what was happening. Something weird’s going on.”
“C’mon, c’mon, gettin’ taken out without noticing? That’s impossible. Your guards were in on it, right? Or maybe you were? If you just didn’t wanna pay up for the new boss Numata here, you coulda just said so. Right, Numata?”
“Y-Yeah. Uh, that’s right. Ooh-ooh, Yamanaka-san, don’t go underestimatin’ me. What, if ya make the tribute ten times bigger, maybe I won’t think you’re disrespectin’ me? Ooh-ooh.”
Sakimori chuckled, leaning back on the sofa, impressed by Numata’s seal impression. Hearing those words, Yamanaka paled. If the local thugs marked him, he wouldn’t survive.
“Th-That’s not it… I just don’t have the funds right now…”
“Is that so? That’s a real shame, ain’t it, Boss Numata? Looks like things might get unfortunate, huh?”
“Ooh-ooh, that’s right, ooh-ooh.”
Numata’s seal impression grew even stronger. Meanwhile, his guards were busy scrubbing the walls, wondering if they needed detergent as they rummaged through shelves and lockers.
Seeing this, Yamanaka finally realized something was off. Turning his swollen face toward Sakimori, he cautiously asked:
“Uh… Who exactly are you? My apologies, I don’t believe we’ve met…”
“Ah, since I’m not wearin’ all black, ya didn’t recognize me. My bad. Name’s Amano Sakimori. I’m the president of a company called Amatsugahara Corporation.”
Sakimori grinned, and Yamanaka gasped, trembling so hard he nearly fainted before screaming:
“No way… You’ve already got your hands in the Outer District?!”
“Nah, nah. Me and Numata here are just good friends. Right? The kind of friends who’d do anything for each other?”
“That’s right! Friends, best friends! Ooh-ooh-ooh, Yamanaka-san, me and Amano-san are best friends!”
Numata happily confirmed their friendship. Yep, we’re best buds.
“Now, since Numata’s seal talk is hard to understand, why don’t I take over?”
“Y-Yes…”
Sakimori glared slightly, infusing his gaze with a hint of killing intent. Yamanaka shuddered and nodded obediently. Let me teach you exactly what happens when you mess with someone who’s got friends in the Outer District.
“Yamanaka, you’ve been sellin’ legit flour in the Outer District—keep doin’ that, same price. And the loans? No problem there either. Standard rates. Must’ve been tough gettin’ to your position. The money you funnel for flour’s just part of the deal.”
“Uh, y-yeah, that’s right. I’m known as the neighborhood pushover, ahaha…”
“Good. From now on, I doubt many folks tryin’ to repay you’ll get robbed. Keep it up. You can go now. Oh, and bring the tribute later.”
Yamanaka looked dumbfounded. He’d probably expected worse demands.
“Th-That’s it?”
“Yeah. Numata’s a nice guy. Right, Numata? This good with you?”
“Yep! That’s fine by me!”
This time, Numata mimicked a drinking bird toy. Man’s got skills, Sakimori thought with a smirk, then waved off Yamanaka as he stood to leave.
“You’re a good guy, Yamanaka. I’m sure you’ll forgive the debts of anyone who got robbed recently. Heard Tou got robbed too, so make sure to include his.”
“Th-That’s…”
“You’re the best, Yamanaka. Who knows? Next time, you might run into a killer. Better rack up some good karma, huh?”
“U-Understood… I’ll cancel those debts right away… Ahahaha!”
Good ol’ pushover Yamanaka. He smiled brightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Then, staggering like he’d been drinking since morning, he left the room.
Sakimori snorted and leaned back on the sofa. Tiring morning, damn. Even between decent folks, money talk’s always a pain.
[Kind-hearted Sakimori-san. Was letting that guy off really okay? No ruination? No “accidental” death?]
[Shizuku, I’m a good guy. I don’t think about violent stuff.]
He glanced at Shizuku, floating lazily in the air. Upside-down, she pouted, clearly dissatisfied. Guess she wanted more drama.
[I was imagining a big showdown—ching-jara-jara!—then winning against Numata with the last 10 million! Phoenix Mode! “Three billion yen, mine!”]
[Wrong opponent.]
She struck a pose midair for no reason. Three billion yen? What’s she talking about? Still as adorably dumb as ever.
[Besides, losing him would cause problems. He looked legit. Plenty of bakeries rely on his flour.]
[Sakimori-san, you’ll never be a righteous hero like Lord Mito. Too busy chasing profits.]
[Adventure Lord Mito? Man, that takes me back. He’d craft items to solve everything.]
[What’s that? Tell me more!]
Giggling behind her tiny hand, Shizuku’s playful expression shifted to curiosity. Guess she’s into period dramas. I’ll explain later.
“Still, didn’t expect decent folks in the Outer District. Would’ve liked to meet that Iisada guy.”
“Ah… Yeah, Boss.”
Numata scratched his cheek awkwardly. An acquaintance, maybe? For some reason, a potted plant-like thing wandered in front of Sakimori.
“Well, even without that, bodyguard work’s easy side cash. You don’t gotta be a stand-up guy like Iisada, but spread the word: from now on, take the job seriously. You’re makin’ bank in the black market, right? Get too greedy, and I might start lookin’ for a new second-in-command.”
Good talent’s everywhere if you look.
“Yes, sir! I’ll pass the word! Ooh-ooh, you guys heard that? We’re a righteous group now! Go tell everyone, quick!”
“On it!”
In a chaotic scramble, nearly everyone in the room rushed out. This should work.
“Now, for the flour wholesalers… Seems they’re plannin’ to move on the market.”
Shizuku, ever the nosy pup, had tailed Yamanaka, sneaked into his shop, and eavesdropped on some shady dealings. I was asleep at the time. Could’ve woken me up. But the prankster had stayed quiet.
“Boss. Want me to send the boys to crack down on the wholesalers?”
Numata brought coffee, his expression serious, but Sakimori shook his head.
“I’m curious how they’ll play this. If they fail, it’ll make for a good example. Let’s wait and gather intel first. Maybe visit some bakeries… Hey, Ohki, you need somethin’?”
The “potted plant” had been loitering around him. Got something to say?
Ohki finally perked up, rubbing his nose with a grin.
“Ahem! Uh, well, Boss! My name’s actually Iisada!”
Chest puffed with pride, Ohki made his declaration. His nostrils flared excitedly.
“Alright, I’m headin’ out. Later, Numata.”
“Yes, sir! See you off we will! You lot, the boss is leaving!”
Beaming, Numata bowed. The guys waiting outside swung the door open and bowed in unison.
[They’re terrified of you.]
[I did win against an assault rifle. Makes sense.]
Eh, whatever. Sakimori stepped outside.
[Sigh… The world’s cruel, not recognizing how nice I am.]
In stories, showing power then kindness made people worship you. Sad it doesn’t work like that in real life. He descended the stairs gloomily.
“Boss! I’m Iisada! I’m the nice guy Iisada!”
“Stop stealin’ people’s names, Ohki.”
Damn, Ohki’s a real piece of work.