Chapter 70: The Decision of the High Commanders
Akai Shuichi was also considering retreat. Five investigators had already fallen, and the remaining operatives were visibly shaken, their morale shattered. Continuing this firefight would only lead to more casualties.
The situation had become decidedly one-sided. The operation had been too hasty—insufficient weapons and inadequate intelligence made victory impossible from the start.
This was undoubtedly a catastrophic intelligence failure on the FBI Director's part. Not only would this botched operation cost him his position, but he'd also face severe criticism from Washington. His career prospects were looking grim, to say the least.
Moreover, the personnel assigned to this operation weren't even his own people. Apart from Camel, the others had been temporarily requisitioned from different divisions. These agents had no loyalty to him and certainly weren't willing to die for his ambitions.
The battle had already raged for over half an hour. The Japanese authorities would be arriving any minute now.
Those two grenades had made far too much noise—it was unrealistic to assume no one had noticed. The police response was inevitable, and they needed to withdraw before getting caught in that net.
The gunfire temporarily ceased, at least from the FBI's perspective.
However, this ceasefire was decidedly one-sided. Chianti lived up to her reputation as a complete madwoman—she ejected her spent magazine, slammed in a fresh one, and immediately resumed firing with renewed vigor.
From her elevated vantage point, she had a clear view of the FBI's retreat route, and naturally, she had no intention of letting them escape unscathed.
The whistling sound of bullets cutting through the cold night air continued relentlessly. Soon, another FBI agent crumpled to the ground.
The FBI's numbers had dwindled to just four survivors.
Akai Shuichi remained on the second floor, frustratingly helpless as gunfire echoed below. What good is a sniper rifle without ammunition?
Seizing a brief opening in Chianti's firing pattern, Akai Shuichi leaped from the second floor. Under covering fire from the remaining FBI agents, he sprinted behind a wall and rendezvoused with his team from an alternate angle.
Just then, the distant roar of helicopter rotors echoed through the night sky. White searchlights slowly swept toward their position.
Sirens wailed from the southern road as black-and-white police cruisers sped toward the scene, their red and blue emergency lights reflecting off the gently falling snowflakes like a light show.
"Retreat," Vodka gritted his teeth, finally admitting defeat.
They couldn't risk exposure to the cops. If they couldn't eliminate Akai Shuichi tonight, they'd have to wait for another opportunity.
Still, this operation had at least served as a warning shot to the Silver Bullet.
The only regret was that Vodka hadn't emptied his magazine completely—three bullets still remained. What a waste.
The police arrival had completely extinguished their fighting spirit. The terrain was complex enough that the police would have to navigate a labyrinth of narrow streets to penetrate the area, giving both civilian factions plenty of time to escape.
Chianti ground her teeth in frustration but holstered her rifle. She might be crazy, but she wasn't stupid.
However, the helicopter pilot was clearly incompetent, flying at an agonizingly slow pace—possibly due to weather conditions. Whatever the reason, it took a full five minutes before the helicopter finally reached the abandoned residential district.
By then, both sides had long since vanished into the night, leaving behind only dilapidated ruins and countless spent shell casings scattered across the snow-covered ground.
The Police Arrive
This area bordered the mountains. The two factions had taken different routes uphill, and neither had fired a single shot during their retreat. Shooting now would be suicidal with that helicopter overhead.
Those mounted machine guns weren't toys—nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of an aerial strafing.
"Search every house and locate all the terrorists!" Matsumoto Kiyonaga's voice boomed with authority. "Also, find the Kudo family and ensure their safety!"
The police vehicles stopped outside the southern residential zone. Matsumoto Kiyonaga stood before the lead car, his expression grim. The scars covering his face made him appear even more intimidating than usual.
Officers emerged from their vehicles one by one, beginning their search in orderly fashion.
They were all heavily armed, gripping their service pistols tightly, leaving no corner unchecked as they swept through the area.
However, the survivors had already retreated, and the dead couldn't provide any useful information. Even identifying the bodies would prove challenging—their records in the Metropolitan Police Department's database contained only minimal information.
Half an hour later, an officer reported: "Sir, five bodies recovered. All appear to be of European or American descent. The battle covered approximately four to five hundred meters, with bullet impacts everywhere."
"What about Kudo Yusaku? Have you located him?" Matsumoto Kiyonaga demanded seriously.
The internationally renowned mystery novelist still wielded considerable influence. Protecting his safety was paramount—this had been the primary directive from headquarters.
As for the two warring factions, they'd already fled. All that remained was to collect the bodies and run fingerprint comparisons to see if any leads emerged. Foreign nationals were registered upon entry into Japan, making investigation significantly easier than with local citizens—at least they wouldn't be unable to confirm identities just because someone lacked proper documentation.
Gunfights were rare in Japan but not unheard of. Yakuza organizations occasionally engaged in covert conflicts, but tonight's situation was unprecedented in its severity.
According to Kudo Yusaku's preliminary report, someone had even deployed explosives here. Explosives posed far greater threats than mere handguns and demanded thorough investigation.
"N-nothing found, sir."
Matsumoto Kiyonaga's brow furrowed deeply, and he barked angrily, "Then keep searching!"
"Yes, sir!"
The officer shouted before fleeing in panic from his commander's intimidating presence.
Shortly after the officer departed, just as Matsumoto Kiyonaga was about to report the situation to headquarters, the communication device in his police cruiser crackled to life.
"This is Matsumoto."
"Yes, understood."
"Yes, yes, of course."
Ending the call, Matsumoto Kiyonaga released a breath of relief. The call had been from his superior, Criminal Investigation Department Chief Odagiri Toshiro, informing him that the Kudo family had safely evacuated. His primary objective now shifted to locating both factions involved in the gunfight.
Especially the side that possesses military-grade explosives.
The situation was serious, and numerous reporters who'd caught wind of the story were already en route to the scene.
However, before the media vultures arrived, Matsumoto Kiyonaga was approached by a young man with an unexpectedly youthful face.
He claimed to be from the Public Security Bureau.
Matsumoto Kiyonaga didn't recognize him. The baby face made him skeptical of the claim entirely.
"This case is now under Metropolitan Police Department jurisdiction. You're dismissed."
Yuya looked up at Matsumoto Kiyonaga, showing no fear despite the man's villainous appearance—those scars really did make him look like a yakuza boss.
In truth, Matsumoto Kiyonaga could be quite intimidating when he chose to be.
But appearances were merely disguises. The ruthlessness required of a Public Security Bureau officer ran much deeper.
Yuya had just finished his previous assignment and was preparing to investigate a different target when he'd been summoned to handle this incident instead. What terrible timing.
"Official authorization letter," Matsumoto Kiyonaga said flatly, glancing at Yuya sideways.
If the Public Security Bureau wanted to seize a case from the Metropolitan Police Department, they'd need to provide proper documentation. Otherwise, Matsumoto would have difficulty justifying the handover to his own superiors.
Moreover, the Metropolitan Police Department and Public Security Bureau had never enjoyed cordial relations. Deliberately making things difficult for PSB agents was not only understandable but practically expected—it was politically correct, even.
One organization policed the capital; the other safeguarded national security. Jurisdictional conflicts between them were frequent, and sabotaging each other's operations was standard operating procedure.
Yuya didn't bother arguing. Official approval wouldn't come quickly through proper channels anyway.
"Then we'll conduct a joint investigation," he said simply.
He waved his hand, and several Public Security Bureau officers entered the crime scene.
Matsumoto Kiyonaga remained silent. He had no legitimate grounds to prevent them from participating in the investigation.
A dozen minutes later—
"Commander Matsumoto, footprints discovered on both the eastern and western perimeters. Both factions in the gunfight appear to have fled toward the mountains."
"Into the mountains?" Matsumoto Kiyonaga narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Pursuit into mountainous terrain would be extremely difficult, especially in winter darkness.
"In that case, I'll leave the scene processing to Commander Matsumoto," Yuya said with a slight smile, bowing politely. "I'll trouble myself with the mountain pursuit instead."
This time, their primary target was the Black Organization.
Based on Kudo Yusaku's emergency report and intelligence provided by their undercover agent Bourbon, Vodka and several codename members had ambushed the FBI here tonight.
Since both factions had already escaped, remaining at the scene served little purpose. Rather than competing with the Metropolitan Police Department over evidence collection, pursuing the suspects directly made more tactical sense. Capturing members from either faction would satisfy the higher-ups' demands.
Evidence collection could be left to the Metropolitan Police Department. The PSB could simply request copies of their findings afterward, saving valuable manpower and resources—their division didn't have nearly as many personnel as the Metropolitan Police Department anyway.
The higher-ups were absolutely furious about this incident and had already begun mobilizing resources to crack down on the Organization.
Apparently, the CIA had recently discovered a major Black Organization base operating within Japanese territory and had repeatedly sought cooperation from Japan's national security apparatus.
Initially, the brass had been reluctant to agree. They'd wanted to use their undercover agent Furuya Rei to locate the base independently so they could claim full credit for the operation themselves. After all, this was their territory—allowing foreign intelligence interference was somewhat humiliating. Plus, the CIA's demands for intelligence sharing were excessive.
However, Furuya Rei's latest message indicated he hadn't yet discovered the base's location.
Aside from Gin, who possessed comprehensive knowledge of all the Organization's bases and hideouts, other members only knew fragments of the overall structure. Furuya Rei remained unaware of any major bases, and uncovering that information would require considerable time.
Therefore, the decision had been made at the highest levels: even if it meant suffering some diplomatic embarrassment, they needed to crush the Organization's arrogance as quickly as possible. A military-grade firefight in the heart of Tokyo was too blatant a disrespect to the Public Security Bureau's authority.
Into the Mountains
Meanwhile, on the Organization's side, Natsukawa and his three companions had already ventured deep into the mountains.
Natsukawa remained completely uninjured—he'd emerged from the battle entirely unscathed. Vodka was similarly unharmed, though he hadn't stopped cursing the entire way. What kind of personal vendetta does he have against Akai Shuichi anyway?
Chianti and Cohen had each taken a bullet, but the wounds weren't serious—just grazes that wouldn't prove fatal.
"So let me get this straight," Natsukawa's mocking voice cut through the quiet forest, particularly jarring to Chianti and Cohen's ears. "You two spent half an hour sniping at Akai Shuichi and didn't land a single hit? If anyone asks, I'm telling them I don't know you. Too embarrassing to be colleagues."
"Oh yeah? And what about you two?" Chianti shot back.
Everyone's performance had been equally mediocre. No one had room to criticize anyone else.
"I eliminated several targets with a single grenade," Natsukawa countered smugly.
"You also blew open an escape route for them," Cohen pointed out dryly.
"Didn't Vodka explicitly tell me to flush them out of that room?" Natsukawa protested.
"..."
The bickering between Tequila, Cohen, and Chianti continued for quite some time until their throats went dry from arguing.
Vodka ignored all three of them completely.
The mission's over. Let whoever wants to play mediator step forward. I, Vodka, refuse to tolerate this humiliation.
(End of Chapter 70)
[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+10 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/Soulforger (40+ advanced chapters)
Buy me coffee - ko-fi*com/soulforger01