Hakata Tonkotsu Ramens Volume 1 Chapter 4

Top of Fourth Inning

The f.u.kuoka Mayor, Shotarou Harada, stayed in a suite room of a high cla.s.s hotel in Tenjin that night. Since there were plans of opening a lecture in the large hall of the hotel tomorrow afternoon it seemed he decided to stay there the day before the event.

Munakata visited the mayor's room to give his periodic report. There were several bodyguards posted in the room and among them was s.h.i.+nohara. The mayor was in a gown, having just entered the bath. Perhaps it was because of the election activities day-to-day but his face looks slightly tired. As expected of a former actor, he is handsome even though he is over fifty, but he feels he has gotten older all at once in these past few days.

After clearing the people out, Munakata began his report. About the removal of the detective that was sniffing around the mayor and about the woman his son Yusuke killed. The mayor having been informed of his son's wrongdoings made a more exhausted expression. "It seems that stupid son of mine is really inconveniencing me."

"Better yet, will you kill your son?" s.h.i.+nohara next to them said while laughing. "Then you can rest easy."

Munakata without a moment's delay hit the back of his head. "Don't be ridiculous."

"His sickness wouldn't be cured just by killing him." The mayor laughed. It was meant to be a joke, but to Munakata he did not hear it as one. "However, it's certain we have to take measures into our own hands. I'm counting on you."

In other words it means, no matter what do not let the public know of my son's misconducts. Additionally it also means, only you guys do something. They were already well used to getting unreasonable demands pushed their way.

"Understood."

Bowing his head, he departed with s.h.i.+nohara.

At the hotel's lobby Reiko was waiting. It was about the time to switch places as the mayor's guard. Munakata called out to her. "Good work. How was it?"

"At any rate, the woman's body has been taken care of." Reiko was making a long face. "But there's still an issue."

"What's wrong?"

"That guy was playing around with his circle of friends from university, and it seems they killed a man beating him to death. And they cleaned up the man's body together."

His head began to throb. "From one thing to another……What is up with that kid?"

"I looked up the IDs of the students that were with them," Reiko said and handed over a paper. The three men's names and addresses were written on there. Jun Murase, Masaki Yos.h.i.+da, and Tatsuya Yamas.h.i.+ro. They were students that attend the same university, and the three of them live nearby. All of them appeared to live in the vicinity of the school.

s.h.i.+nohara cut in. "Yusuke-san's circle of friends? Then I think they're at the school right now."

"At school? Isn't it a day off today?"

"They should be in the circle's room. Yusuke-san joined the softball circle, right? Well, they're just a drinking group though. It seems they have a drinking party everyday in the room. Skipping out of lecture."

"Such nice social statuses these university students have."

"The mayor was grumbling about it. Said it costs money to have him gain school credit."

Munakata nodded. "Leave the rest to me. Reiko, I'll leave you with the boss."

Departing from Reiko, he headed to the hotel's underground parking lot. The car was parked there. Ivanov was already sitting in the backseat. Munakata got into the driver's seat, and s.h.i.+nohara went into the pa.s.senger's seat.

"It seems that perverted son beat up and killed a man with his friends this time. And so we're going to go catch those friends now."

When Munakata explained their task, Ivanov said in a whisper. "I can't accept that."

"What of?"

"We're killers. We're not agents."

Ivanov seemed to be unsatisfied. It was not like he did not understand his feelings. Even Munakata did not want to do this job. "It can't be helped. This is also within our work."

"Wiping a kid's behind? They could ask for a baby sitter for that sort of thing."

"Is that a Russian joke?" s.h.i.+nohara teased, but Munakata thought the same. When he thought that he was born to do this sort of dirty work, he felt just as empty.

"s.h.i.+no," he called out to him in the pa.s.senger seat. "You go to the same university as Yusuke, right? Be on the lookout. So he doesn't do anything else wrong."

"That's impossible. That guy's in the fine arts, right? I'm in the science, so the campus is different."

"Then switch over to the arts."

"Please don't ask so much from me."

Munakata started the engine.

Leaving the hotel, just as they were pa.s.sing j.a.pan National Route 3,

"I think I have asked before," s.h.i.+nohara suddenly began speaking. "What is with that eye of yours, Munakata-san?"

By that eye he meant Munakata's right eye, which was covered by an eye patch.

"You're quite the talkative guy." He glanced back to the back seat in the rear view mirror. Ivanov was staring out of the window intently. "You should follow Ivanov's example a bit."

"Isn't it fine? Please tell me."

It was not like he was hiding the story behind this right eye of his. He had talked with Reiko and Ivanov before about when he blundered a previous job and lost it at that time. However, he did not feel particularly inclined in telling s.h.i.+nohara about that. It was not even slightly fun talking about his lose to a cheeky newcomer.

Still facing forward he asked s.h.i.+nohara back. "Do you know of the Niwaka Samurai?"

"Niwaka Samurai?" It did not seem he knew of him.

"He is an infamous urban legend in the f.u.kuoka killer industry."

Munakata recalled his colleague's words at that time.

"It seems there is a killer-killer in f.u.kuoka." Eight years ago, when Munakata was still a killer to a gang. Another killer hired like him said that to him with a serious expression as though they were having a ghost story.

s.h.i.+nohara had inquired. "An urban legend? Like a ghost?"

"He's a killer-killer."

"A killer-killer? What is that? A curse?"

"It's a killer of killers."

At that time his colleague said this. "It's a killer of killers. He's called the Niwaka Samurai. It seems he's stupidly strong. Look, there's that Hakata Niwaka, right? From the traditional entertainers. He wears that mask and swings around a j.a.panese sword, so he's called the Niwaka Samurai. It seems no one has ever seen him though. They say anyone that has were all killed. By the terrifying killer of killers."

Even though no one had ever seen it before, then why was it known that killer wears a Niwaka mask and even brandishes a j.a.panese sword? It was contradictory. Towards such a ridiculous story, at the time Munakata had laughed.

"A killer of killers who fights for justice. A killer that goes too far would be punished by the Niwaka Samurai. That's what is said about him. Because of those rumors the killer business declined for a period of time. Although it recovered soon after."

"Huh."

There were those that cut their ties from the killer industry fearing the Niwaka Samurai, but in the end stay through in restraining crimes. Since the Niwaka Samurai got rather popular in the killer world the police said it was probably a false rumor spread in desperation."

"What the heck, it was just a rumor?"

"Well about that." Munakata made a serious face. "I saw it."

"What did you see?"

"The Niwaka Samurai. With this eye."

"Eh," s.h.i.+nohara's voice locked up. "You serious?"

"This eye of mine was taken by that Niwaka Samurai."

When the rumor began to spread that the Niwaka Samurai was just a false claim, Munakata was ordered to a.s.sa.s.sinate a certain man from his superior. The target was a killer of another organization. Killing is killer, that's like the Niwaka Samurai. Munakata thought that.

The killer was a murder who took pleasure killing. He was a killer to enjoyed the act of killing itself and not for the money. He committed murder here and there quite a bit, and so it had seemed he incurred the enmities from various organizations and groups. It seemed in the worst cases he had killed even his own employers. Even in the organization Munakata was a member of had several important employees killed by him.

Hearing of the place where he would perform his next killing, Munakata got there before him. The place was a back alley with hardly any pa.s.serby in Haruyos.h.i.+. Munakata prepared his sniper rifle as always and watched the street from the roof of a low building.

Peering through the scope, he locked onto his target. He saw the form of the killer. He was in the middle of killing someone. Stabbing the person recklessly with a knife multiple times, laughing as the blood poured out. I see, this is a man beyond my abilities. I should kill him right away. It was then when he tried to pull the trigger.

Behind the crazed killer another man stood. At some point the man was suddenly there. He did not notice him. Immediately after that there was a scream. The head of the killer rolled on the ground. Blood vigorously spurted forth from the severed area like a water fountain. The man distanced himself nimbly as to not get sprayed in the spurt of blood.

A j.a.panese sword was held in the man's hand. After swiping his wrist several times to wipe off the blood on the sword, he stored the blade in the scabbard.

The man turns around. Munakata swallowed. Half of the man's upper face is covered with a mask. It is silly looking orange mask with drooping eyebrows and eyes. That was the Hakata Niwaka mask.

His colleague's words crossed his mind. "Look, there's that Hakata Niwaka, right? From the traditional entertainers. He wears that mask and swings around a j.a.panese sword, so he's called the Niwaka Samurai."

It can't be, he thought. Is it the Niwaka Samurai? This man. Does the Niwaka Samurai actually exist?

What should I do? Munakata asked himself. Kill him? From this distance I can certainly kill him. Too bad. The other did not notice Munakata's presence. He wanted to kill him. He thought to kill him and identify the Niwaka Samurai's ident.i.ty. It was simple curiosity. It was that moment he put his finger on the trigger.

The masked man turned towards him. He felt like their eyes met. In the scope. That guy looked in my direction. He saw me. He noticed me. He had a hunch. His heart pounded hard. Sick sweat formed on his brow.

The masked man moved. Immediately after something flew straight at Munakata. It was a short sword. The blade ran throw his rifle at an extreme velocity. The scope broke, and the plastic pieces and gla.s.s fragments pierced Munakata's eye. He felt a sharp pain.

I'm going to be killed, he thought. I have to run. Quickly. Munakata ran down the stairs in haste while blood flowed from his one eye.

" – Munakata-san, it's green."

From behind him a car horn was blaring, and Munakata returned to himself instantly. At some point the light had turned green. He quickly took off. The inside of his eye was itchy. The inside of his right eye ever since he could no longer use it on that day.

"So then, how was he? That Niwaka Samurai." s.h.i.+nohara was waiting for the continuation of his story.

"It's a lie." Munakata smiled. "I just lost this eye in a risky operation."

"What the heck is that." s.h.i.+nohara was disappointed.

"There's no way there's a Niwaka Samurai." Saying that as though to tell himself that, Munakata was at a loss.

Bottom of Fourth Inning

Just how long was I unconscious? His goose-b.u.mped skin was cold. The area was quiet. Since his eyes were blinded he could not even look at his watch. He did not know what time it was or where he was at all.

He could smell salt water. The sea was probably nearby. The rooters' song for the Hawks suddenly came to his mind. To the sea breeze of the Genkai Sea – he feels that was the first line. He did not know where the Genkai Sea was or how large of a sea it was, but perhaps where he was right now may be at the Genkai Sea. Anxiety a.s.saulted him, fearing of being solidified into concrete and thrown into the sea.

With his sight taken from him, Saitou was taken out of the car and forced to walk. He heard the footsteps of their feet on the ground. Suddenly, he heard the sound of shutters being lifted. It was the sound three times that of the normal house garage ones or the store ones and was slow. He felt they were being opened by a machine. They were near the sea at a building with large shutters. This place was likely a warehouse on a pier.

When he was brought into the building, this time he was sat in something like that of a chair. Still with his hands tied together, his ankles were fastened to the legs of the chair. He could not move. If he tried the chair would fall over.

And then somehow videos of claimed responsibility done by terrorists in the middle east he saw on the internet before pa.s.sed his mind. In those videos the foreign hostages wore a bag over their heads and were tied to a chair with guns pointed towards them. The terrorists would be turned to the camera and continued talking at length. Easily put it was "if you do not accept our request we will kill one hostage at a time." It was a footage that shook the whole world. His appearance right now resembled those hostages at that time. After that the terrorist pulled the trigger on the gun and killed the hostage. Once the gun shot went off the hostage's head slumped forward and then dropped. Even with their face hidden you would know they were dead. Would I also be killed that way? Imagining his circ.u.mstances, Saitou grew more anxious.

"This place is an execution area." He heard the voice of the okama. He must have been the man wearing the worker's clothes. "It's useless to try to call for help."

And then the blindfold was finally taken off. At this moment he still did not know that later he would have been glad to not have it taken off.

"You're late, Jiro." Another man voiced. "The promised time was at one. Now it's past three."

"Sorry, Mar-chan. We couldn't find the last two at all. But we brought one of them for the time being."

His blurry vision became clear. Saitou's location was in a s.p.a.cious warehouse with not a single thing in it. In front of him was the okama man named Jiro and a large built man who wore a black leather jacket. He did not know if he had a tan or if that was his natural color, but he was a man with dark skin and stark facial features different from that of j.a.panese people. A few whiskers were growing around his mouth. His head was a buzz cut with narrowly shaved lines on it. On both of his thick, log-like arms were gaudy tattoos. He was called Mar-chan by Jiro. Actually, the girl that was with him at that time cannot be found. She did not appear to be around.

"He's José Martínez. He's a skilled torturer. How about we give punishment starting from that boy there first."

The one whom Jiro named was not Saitou. There was another man separated from Saitou in about three to four meters. He was wearing a stand-up collar school uniform. He looked like a high schooler. Just like Saitou, his mouth was tapped shut, and he was tied to the chair.

"Don't do unto others what you don't want. Didn't you learn that from your school teacher? To become a person who understands the other's pain."

Jiro approached the student and quietly talked to him.

"After hitting them with several punches and weakening them, you cut their tail and crush both eyes. Then lastly you cut off its head. That's what you did to that cat. The poor cat. It suffered dearly." Jiro stated with a cold voice that would send s.h.i.+vers up one's back. It was the declaration of death. "We'll have you get a taste of the exact same page from here on out."

" – Hey, you alright? Don't pa.s.s out now." The man lightly tapped the high schooler's cheek. The torture continued at length. The black man Martínez first punched the high schooler's face. And then he continued with punches to his shoulders, chest, and stomach. It was the perfect balance of providing moderate pain and fear without killing him. After hitting him for a bit, they took an hour break. Having a quiet period of time would stir up the recipient's fear. It was a repeat of hitting and resting. Seeing that aspect of it stirred up Saitou's own terror at the same time. As though it was saying, 'next is your turn. Get ready.'

Saitou finally began to grasp the situation. This okama called Jiro was an avenger, and he appeared to be avenging the cat the high schooler butchered. And the torturer Martínez was helping to carry it out. That was the gist of it. He understood that much, but Saitou was still unsure as to the reason why he was captured. Did I do something for something to take revenge on me? Did I incur someone's fury? When I try to remember, I can only really think about the pitch I made to the head when I was in high school. Other than that, nothing comes to mind. Surely I'm being mistaken as that university student Murase or whatever. He could only think of that.

"You made such a docile face while you did something so dirty." As the fifth break was ending, Martínez finally took out his tools. It looked like the next torture was coming to pa.s.s. He grasped the knife, smiling. "What should I do, Jiro? Though you said he cut off its tail, humans don't have tails."

"That's true." Jiro smiled jokingly, but his eyes were not smiling even slightly. "How about cutting off the thing in front instead?"

His nether regions hurt just imagining it.

"I guess we'll just pa.s.s on this and go crush the eyes next?"

The high schooler cowered and shook. It seemed he wet himself, and a puddle was forming under the chair. He shook his head as he cried. The large black palms grasped the high schooler's head. The tip of the knife Martínez held was closing in on the boy's face. Thinking of what he was going to do, he could not watch. Saitou turned his face away and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

He heard the boy's silent scream. There were the m.u.f.fled sounds of agony echoing throughout the warehouse. He ended up imagining it. Of what was happening to the boy right now. The image of the boy with his eyes crushed and blood flowing appeared in his mind. He felt like throwing up. Please stop already. Saitou felt like he was the one getting hurt. This was enough torture. Even if he wanted to cover his ears, he could not. Both of his hands were tied.

"Won't you turn towards the camera and say sorry?" Jiro prepared a camera. The boy no longer could tell where the camera was.

"I-I'm so-rry."

The boy appealed, crying. Tears and blood were flowing from his eyes.

"I won't do it, I won't do it anymore. Please forgive me. Please save me." The boy strung the words with the best of his ability with a hoa.r.s.e voice.

"Do you understand the feelings of the cat you killed that time?"

Saitou closed his eyes. He could not look at him anymore. The boy had probably nodded at Jiro's words multiple times. He probably regretted what he had done. He certainly did something wrong. But couldn't they let him go? As he was thinking that he heard the sound of something falling with a thunk. The boy's breathing ceased. He terrifyingly opened his eyes. At Saitou's feet the boy's head lay. He felt nauseous, and if it were not for his mouth being sealed shut he would have thrown up.

It was then. Jiro's cellphone rung. "h.e.l.lo, I'm busy right now. ……Haa? You want to give a punch back after you were punched by a man?"

After a moment, he cut the call with a tut.

"Who was it from?"

"Yamato. Had a dispute with a guy."

"A guy?"

"Who know. It seems like a stranger in pa.s.sing. Sorry, Mar-chan. Could you go? I'll do the rest here."

"Okay."

Martínez agreed and then left the warehouse. After putting his cellphone in his pocket, Jiro looked at Saitou. "Now then, next is your turn."

He s.h.i.+vered.

Just what would be done to him? He could not even imagine.

Because his cellphone was ringing insistently, Lin woke up. With a sleepy voice he answered the call without looking at the caller.

"……Who is it?"

[Hey,] it was Zhang. [Where are you right now?]

At home. "Who knows."

You have nothing to do with me wherever I may be. I'm not your pet, he cursed in his mind. It seemed it was going to be quite the bad day today hearing this man's voice first thing upon waking up.

[Kill that detective Banba sometime today. Understand?]

"I said I won't do it." Lin kicked back. "Until you properly pay me I won't work."

[You think I'll let a joke like this go?]

I don't plan on joking even a little bit. "This is a strike. It's the worker's just right."

[What do you mean strike? You can just shut up and listen to what I say.]

"Don't you act so big, you s.h.i.+t."

[I'm not acting big, I am great. If I put it in your words, I have the just right to act big.]

"Shut up. Go die." This guy p.i.s.sed him off to no end. "Die painfully. And don't get reborn a second time."

[As always you're a guy that doesn't know how to use your words. If you make light of adults you'll face the consequences.]

"Ah, right. Thank you for the warning."

[That's enough. Do whatever.] Lin was even more sullen at Zhang's att.i.tude towards him as though he was treating him like a child going through p.u.b.erty.

"You don't even have to say." He would do as he wanted.

[If you won't do it, then I'll just have him killed by others. You're not the only killer out there. There's more than plenty in f.u.kuoka. Guys who are more cheap and skilled than you.]

Lin easily laughed off Zhang's digs.

"Just try. I'll kill those killers then." If it comes to that, then he would thoroughly get in his way.

[Killing killers, huh.] Zhang laughed in ridicule. [You're not the Niwaka Samurai.]

And there the call was dropped. He thought to try to sleep throughout the day today, but thanks to Zhang he woke up. The time was around seven in the morning. For the moment, he decided to take a shower.

In the bathroom he recalled what Zhang had said. What the h.e.l.l is that, "You can just shut up and listen to what I say." No matter how much time has pa.s.sed, he always thinks I'm a slave. Lin despised the man's cold eyes when he looked at him, as though he was seeing him as mere cattle from the bottom of his heart. Zhang is mistaken. We're equal. I'm the professional killer, and he's the one giving the requests and paying: that's their relations.h.i.+p. I'm not a slave anymore.

He wanted to remind that to Zhang. He wanted to put that b.a.s.t.a.r.d in a pinch. Lin thought that. He felt he would have the detective Banba get killed by other killers. If that was the case, then he could kill those hitmen and get in his way. How about I give him quite the shock.

Coming to a decision, he had to go out immediately. He put on his earned spoils on his clean body. On top was a white chiffon blouse with a ribbon at his chest. Below was a high-waist flare skirt with black polka dots on a brown canvas. Both were spoils he took from the woman's closet he killed. The size was about right and suited him rather nicely. After wavering on whether he should wear tights or socks, he decided on long black socks that reached up to his knees. Putting on gray long boots with round studs on the heel, Lin left home.

From the JR Kas.h.i.+ Station, he got on the high-speed train of the Kagos.h.i.+ma Main Line to the third station. He arrived at Hakata Station. Walking directly from the Chikus.h.i.+ exit for about five minutes an old tenant building with white walls covered with coffee-like stains came into view. On the window gla.s.s on the third floor were the characters 'Banba Detective Office.' It was a five story building, and the first floor was a coin laundry and the second was a tutor dispatch office.

He headed to the third floor on the elevator. In front of the door to the Banba Detective Office a flowerpot was unnaturally left there. Picking up the pot there was a key below it. It was probably the key to the office. Does he intend to hide it there like that? That is way too careless. He never could understand how the j.a.panese were like this. Since it's so out in the open, this couldn't be a trap right? He was suspicious.

Even when he knocked there was no reply. Not home then?

Using the hidden key (totally not hidden), Lin entered into the office. The interior was not very s.p.a.cious. It was about the size of Lin's room. It was divided in half by a part.i.tion. On the side of the entrance there was a steel desk, a visitor sofa and a low table, and they were rather kept clean. However the remaining half of the s.p.a.ce was almost like a garbage room. There were thrown off clothes pilled up into heaps on the sofa, and there were convenient store bentou boxes and cup ramen containers left on top of the table, and they stunk. There was also a bed, but the futon was a mess. On top of the small television set lay dust.

"……What a filthy room."

He unconsciously whispered. Luckily, there was no one else in the room but himself. No one heard that.

Even so, where did Zenji Banba go? When would he come back?

He thought to wait for him while watching TV for the mean time, but since the room was so scattered it was a struggle to find the TV remote.

Driving the Aisha Mini Cooper and lightly sweating at his favorite batting center was a modest hobby of Banba's. On this day as well, Banba entered the batting cage with the 100 kilometer fast pitching machine as always and swung his beloved bat. He probably already hit forty of them.

"You seem to be in good shape."

Just as he hit back the last ball, he was called out by someone. Banba turned around. On the other side of the green net he saw s.h.i.+gematsu.

"Huh, s.h.i.+gematsu-san. Whatcha doin' 'round here?"

"You didn't answer your phone, so I thought you'd be here." s.h.i.+gematsu was carrying a bat case. "Well, I also thought of getting a bit active."

s.h.i.+gematsu entered the cage next to Banba. He asked Banba while putting in a hundred yen coin into the insert slot of the machine. "How is that case? Did you find anything out?"

"Pretty decent." Banba also added another round. He planned to have it be his last.

"Is that so?"

s.h.i.+gematsu took his batting stance at base. Since he was a right-handed batter he took the stance facing Banba on the other side of the net.

"I know that woman that was with the mayor was a former killer," Banba spoke to him while hitting the ball. "From Murder Inc!"

"So that was," s.h.i.+gematsu also swung the bat, "it!"

"And I know who killed that detect-," he did not hit the pitched ball in the center. "ive!"

s.h.i.+gematsu swung and missed. "Who is it?"

"He's a half Russian man called Ivanov. He's also formerly from Murder," this time he hit the ball dead center. "Inc!"

s.h.i.+gematsu made a swing and missed again. "That so?"

After all the b.a.l.l.s were pitched, "what you are going to do next," s.h.i.+gematsu inquired.

"After droppin' by the relaxation spa, I'll head home." He always did that. After picking up a sweat at the batting center, he washed it off at the bath house. That was how Banba spent his days off.

"That's not what I mean. With the mayor."

"Ahh, that one there," Banba gave him a smile. "I left some there bait. All I then oughta do is what for their move down yonder."

"Bait?"

"I went to that place in that photo. It was from a high cla.s.s lookin' club called Miroir. I persistently asked about the mayor and the man with the mayor to the store's manager, so he probably gone and told that to the people above him."

"I can't believe it." s.h.i.+gematsu was wide-eyed. "That's dangerous. Way too dangerous. They may send someone to finish you."

There had already been one detective killed. Banba also acknowledged the danger.

"Like my office gonna to blow up 'bout now?" Banba laughed heedlessly.