Chapter 139: A Heavy Fist
"The bookstore..." Kurokawa repeated, processing Xiu's masked appearance and authoritative tone. He squinted slightly, trying to recall. "Miss Yuan... she sent you?"
He remembered the encrypted message earlier that day, instructing him to meet an auditor at a specific location, mentioning some issues. But already? It's barely been half a day…
"Correct," the hooded figure replied, the voice slightly distorted by the mask or perhaps deliberate modulation.
The figure slowly raised its head, fully revealing the face beneath the hood's shadow. Kurokawa gasped involuntarily, taking an instinctive step back.
Under the hood wasn't a stern auditor's face, but a cheap, almost comical plastic mask resembling a wide-eyed Jigglypuff – the kind sold as children's toys. Yet, combined with the figure's dark attire, silent demeanor, and the dimly lit, anonymous room, the effect wasn't amusing; it was deeply unsettling.
Kurokawa stood frozen for a moment, completely thrown off balance, unsure how to react to this bizarre combination of authority and absurdity.
Xiu, hidden behind the mask, observed Kurokawa's reaction dispassionately. He recognized the man instantly, of course.
Middle-aged, likely appearing older than his actual years due to stress, with lines etched around his eyes. Thirty-six years old, according to the personnel file Xiaoyuan had sent.
Xiu remembered him clearly. Kurokawa had been one of the very first employees Xiu himself had personally vetted and hired during the initial setup phase, chosen for his perceived reliability and desperate need for work. Which was precisely why Xiu was wearing the mask now.
'This man knows my real face.'
"Kurokawa," Xiu began, his voice electronically altered to sound deeper, more impersonal, "the company placed its trust in you. Handed you responsibility for the entire Viridian City operation. And this," his voice hardened, "is how you repay that trust? With negligence? With theft?"
The direct accusation seemed to snap Kurokawa out of his stunned confusion. He immediately started waving his hands defensively, shaking his head, opening his mouth to offer excuses.
But then, seemingly realizing the futility, he fell silent, lowering his head, and accepting the implicit judgment.
Seeing his resignation, Xiu didn't relent. He pressed harder, his tone turning sharp, accusatory. "Your mismanagement is one thing— but embezzling company funds, and falsifying accounts… were you the architect of this, Kurokawa? Or just a willing participant?"
Hearing the specific charge of embezzlement, Kurokawa visibly straightened, a flicker of defiance returning to his eyes. "The problems at the bookstore… the mismanagement… yes, that is my responsibility. My negligence," he admitted calmly, his voice steady now.
"But I swear, I have not stolen from the company. Every Poké Dollar that passed through my hands, every transaction under my direct control… it's all accounted for. Traceable." His denial felt… sincere.
Xiu considered this. He remembered Kurokawa's background file. An ordinary factory worker from Fuchsia City.
Minimal education, started working at fifteen. Through sheer grit and hard work, he'd risen in ranks as a foreman for over more than a decade.
Stable family, wife, two kids. Then, disaster struck – he collapsed from overwork. While recovering, his position was given to the manager's unqualified nephew. Fired unjustly, compensation minimal. His years of loyalty, meaningless.
He was unable to find comparable work due to his age and perceived health risks and his savings were depleted by mounting medical bills and family expenses… and thus the desperation.
That was when Xiu's 'recruiter' had approached him, offering a chance, a lifeline.
Understanding Kurokawa's history, his pride, his likely desperation… perhaps direct embezzlement wasn't his style. However, negligence, looking the other way while others skimmed? Possible.
"The company will conduct its own full investigation." Xiu stated coolly, neither accepting nor rejecting Kurokawa's denial. "My purpose here is different. It's about solving the immediate problem." He shifted gears. "Let's go. We're going to the bookstore. Now."
"Go there? Now?" Kurokawa looked confused.
"Yes. To work," Xiu replied simply. He stood up from the sofa, walked past Kurokawa towards the door, and exited the rented room first.
Kurokawa hesitated for only a moment, then followed him out silently.
Outside, parked down the street, was the slightly battered white van the 'company' had provided Kurokawa for bookstore deliveries and operations. They both climbed in, with Kurokawa driving, and Xiu in the passenger seat.
The atmosphere inside the van was thick with unspoken tension. Silence stretched between them as Kurokawa navigated the city streets, leaving the older district behind, heading back towards the bookstore's location.
They parked across the street from 'Shihui Bookstore' shortly before its scheduled closing time. The lights were still on inside.
Kurokawa stared numbly at the storefront, then glanced nervously at Xiu, who sat calmly in the passenger seat, flipping through one of the cheap pirated books he'd bought earlier from 'Brother Coat'. Xiu's relaxed attitude seemed completely at odds with the situation.
"What… what do we do now?" Kurokawa finally asked, his voice strained.
Xiu didn't look up from his book. "Store closes at 8:30, doesn't it?" he replied unhurriedly. "Plenty of time. No need to rush."
Kurokawa could only suppress his own mounting anxiety, forcing himself to wait, watching the bookstore opposite.
Not even two minutes later, long before the official closing time, Kurokawa saw the lights inside the bookstore dim. The young clerk, Shota, emerged, locked the front door carelessly, and started walking down the street, whistling cheerfully.
"He's leaving! Already!" Kurokawa exclaimed, pointing urgently.
Xiu finally looked up from his book, watching Shota stroll away. "Hmm," he remarked, his tone laced with dry sarcasm. "Leaving nearly an hour early. I imagine punctuality isn't his strong suit in the mornings either. Deductions are definitely in order."
For some reason, hearing Xiu's cold, matter-of-fact tone sent an involuntary shiver down Kurokawa's spine. The air in the van suddenly felt much colder.
"Follow him," Xiu instructed quietly, putting the book aside, his gaze fixed on the retreating figure of Shota.
Kurokawa didn't hesitate, starting the van and slowly trailing Shota down the street at a safe distance. The surrounding commercial street was relatively quiet now; evening entertainment in this world often centered around home television or local community centers, not late-night shopping. The sidewalks were mostly empty.
Shota walked along casually, seemingly without a care in the world, jingling the bookstore keys in his hand, humming tunelessly. 'Life is good,' he thought happily.
Since landing this cushy bookstore job, things had certainly looked up. Easy work, minimal supervision, and plenty of opportunities for… creative accounting. The 'boss', some remote figure he'd never even met, seemed clueless. Getting rid of that annoying auditor earlier today had been simple enough. Smooth sailing ahead.
Suddenly, he sensed hurried footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. Annoyed at the interruption to his pleasant stroll, he glanced back over his shoulder reflexively.
His glance was met not by a casual passerby, but by a fist. Moving with brutal speed and precision, timed perfectly with his turn, the punch connected squarely with his jaw. It felt like being hit by a sack of bricks.
Stars exploded behind Shota's eyes. His head snapped back. His body spun from the impact, lifted momentarily off the ground before crashing heavily onto the hard sidewalk.
Intense, blinding pain flooded his senses. The world roared in his ears. His soul felt like it was being violently ejected from his body. Just before darkness claimed him completely, his last conscious sensation was the faint, distant screech of tires braking sharply nearby.
The hooded figure calmly bent down, picked up the keys Shota had dropped, and glanced briefly around the deserted street— satisfied there were no immediate witnesses while Kurokawa watched from the driver's seat, face pale with hands trembling slightly on the steering wheel.