Chapter 71
【Takase-kai】, an old-established mafia that had been entrenched in Yokohama long before it was designated as a concession.
Emerging organizations like the Port Mafia, with only a few years of history and no possibility of future growth, are far less established than the Takase-kai.
Therefore, the origins of the Port Mafia were primarily based on smuggling, with the plundering and fighting for territory only following later.
Of course, it wasn't entirely without real industries, but they accounted for a small proportion, and before it could expand much, it was wiped out by Ye Yihe. The subsequent military and police took over very promptly, leaving no opportunity for other organizations to inherit its legacy.
Conversely, the exorbitant profits of the Takase-kai rely more on local illegal businesses, with smuggling accounting for a relatively small percentage.
This also means that the entanglement between the Takase-kai and the government is deeper and more covert.
“That’s not difficult. We just need to get a list of politicians who are connected to the Takase Association.” Dazai Osamu listlessly scooped up the seafood porridge in his bowl, his tone becoming listless.
Although Ye Yihe still catered to his preference for crab meat and ultimately didn't cook a horribly fishy-smelling pork liver porridge, it was good that... hot porridge was something he just couldn't stand and had no desire to swallow it.
There's a feeling of languor, as if the inside of your body is being scorched by the sun.
"You haven't commented on any of these incidents as troublesome," Chuuya retorted.
"Destruction is like a sandcastle being overturned; it's something even a child can easily do."
Under the watchful eyes of both Oda Sakunosuke and Ye Yihe, Dazai Osamu reluctantly licked the porridge off his spoon, his tone particularly resentful.
"...Is this kid implying that we're not smart?"
Pushkin craved Dazai's seafood porridge while munching on boiled vegetable leaves and tasteless boiled chicken breast.
Damn it... even the cat eats better than him!
Pushkin could only vent his resentment internally, because if he dared to protest, Ivan was the one who would shut him up in the blink of an eye...
Well, thinking about it this way, eating leafy greens isn't so bad.
However, Pushkin did not incur the displeasure of his good colleague Ivan, who had dug the pit for him, but instead attracted a glare from his boss.
Ye Yihe glanced at Pushkin with his wine-red eyes, giving this subordinate who was spouting nonsense a look that seemed to say, "Watch out, I'll dock your year-end bonus."
So what if Dazai teased him about not being smart? It's just a tease. Does Pushkin know how important it is to have a smart and hardworking partner who doesn't dig holes? Let Fyodor, who is equally smart, come up with a plan and see who dares to follow it directly.
Wouldn't they have to rack their brains to figure out what traps Fyodor's scheme might have in store for them?
Fyodor is the kind of person who would help count the money even after being sold out... I can't mention it, because it will remind me of his painful past.
“…”
Pushkin, feeling guilty under the watchful eye of his boss, lowered his head and ate chicken breast, fearing that he might accidentally double the quota again.
Dazai Osamu, who was watching this scene, let out a very light, fleeting laugh before continuing.
"The wealth of the Holy Heavenly Staff mainly comes from the offerings of believers. It does not value its territory very much, nor does it need to rely on smuggling, running red-light districts, or underground casinos to make profits."
"But the Port Mafia is different. The business that the old leader used to run was practically snatched from the Takase-kai."
"Now, the destruction of the Port Mafia has created a vacuum in the smuggling market it previously occupied, including its actual territory—the Takase-kai and their gang are extremely eager to get their hands on it."
"With the disappearance of the Port Mafia, the Takase-kai has another chance to become the dominant force," Ye Yihe said thoughtfully.
The reason for choosing the Takase-kai as the next target, rather than the Yinren or KK Trading Company, is that the latter two mainly deal in black market weapons and smuggling.
Organizations like these, which are born out of demand in the market, will naturally shrink if the source of buyers is cut off, and they won't be too difficult to manage.
After capturing Master Takano, the founder and leader of the [Holy Heaven Staff], last time, Commander Taneda even called to praise Ye Yihe extensively.
The Special Abilities Division had tried to capture the other party before, but fire-type ability users are extremely troublesome to deal with. If the other party resists violently during the capture, the released flames can easily cause large-scale and uncontrollable heavy casualties.
Not to mention the group of devoted followers who, under the instruction of Master Takano, would do everything in their power to obstruct their actions using various methods, even suicidal threats.
For Yokohama, his cult-like scheme to amass wealth is a thorny cancer, highly contagious and harmful.
Even if we wanted to ask that [Special Dangerous Ability User] to clean it up, it would be difficult, because Master Takano has almost never killed anyone himself; he always sends others to be the murder weapon.
Unexpectedly, Ye Yihe led his men to wipe out the opposing organization in just one night, and then a number of politicians associated with it also fell. It was an astonishing speed of attack!
Ultimately, it's because the Special Abilities Division doesn't dare to go against their superiors. After listening to all that flattery, Dazai Osamu wagged his finger in conclusion, his expression quite pleased.
Before long, the title "Rats of the House of the Dead" might replace all current Mafia organizations and become the true and sole underground controller of Yokohama.
Ye Yihe: ………
It's all Gogol's fault for speaking so loudly when he introduced himself to everyone.
Some of the believers present were actually victims. After they were interrogated and released, the name of this organization spread throughout the inner world, becoming a hot topic and attracting widespread attention.
Dazai grumbled about not joining the House of the Dead again, but no one cared what he thought.
You teamed up with two members of the "House of the Dead" to flatten the "Holy Staff," and you still dare to say you're not a member of the "House of the Dead"? Ridiculous!
Dazai Osamu remained silent.
Just the thought of what the others would think is giving me a headache.
"So, what are you planning to do?"
When the topic turned to how to eliminate the Takase Association, Chuuya raised his hand and made a gesture, "Should we have Pushkin use his supernatural virus to wreak havoc again?"
Pushkin's superpower is indeed useful in group attacks and can accurately kill single targets without accidentally harming anyone—but its drawbacks are also obvious: it takes a long time to take effect and there is a chance that one of the targets will survive.
The fact that Pushkin's ability allowed the port mafia to fall so quickly was due not only to the information provided by Ranpo, but also to Dazai's precise poisoning... stirring up the biggest trouble with minimal effort.
If we did it to [Takase-kai] again, it seems like there wouldn't be any problem.
"Phew... Chuuya, while I'm touched that you tried to think it through, you clearly weren't paying attention in class—"
Dazai Osamu had already started using a spoon to scoop out the remaining half bowl of porridge, but he just wouldn't scoop it up and eat it—Ye Yihe frowned as he watched.
Chuuya's veins throbbed, and the urge to beat him up surged within him once more.
“It’s very difficult to destroy such a deeply entrenched, long-established organization all at once, not to mention that they also have many illegal businesses,”
Dazai Osamu propped his head up. Under Ye Yihe's deathly gaze, he finally resumed eating his porridge, albeit half-heartedly. "In addition, the shady dealings with politicians are more covert and span a longer period of time. To get this list, we have to infiltrate the core cadres."
Ye Yihe: "Ah, you mean..."
“That’s right,” Dazai Osamu pointed at Oda Sakunosuke with his spoon, “This time I’ll have to ask Oda Sakunosuke and Chuuya to come with me, since only the three of us look Japanese.”
...Ye Yihe looked around and realized that, apart from these three, the rest were all his fellow Russians—half-fellow Russians—after all, strictly speaking, he wasn't Russian either.
“It’s not easy to infiltrate an old-established organization,” Dazai Osamu said with a smile, his eyes crinkling. “Without locals, it’s impossible to get to the top.”
What Ye Yihe really wanted to ask was: It's fine if Oda Sakunosuke is already famous, but you and Chuuya combined are probably not even 30 years old. Do you think you can easily get to the top...? You don't have any authority at all..., right?
However, given Dazai Osamu's intellect, it might be an easy task for him.
Think about Fyodor when he was fifteen or sixteen. He easily went through prison and church, and eventually went to a top music academy.
“Then we’ll assist you,” Ye Yihe nodded. “Just let us know if you need any help. If you encounter any danger… well… with Chuuya and Odasaku on board, it should be difficult to get into any danger.”
Oda Sakunosuke, a top-tier assassin, is already very strong, let alone adding Chuuya, who is at the pinnacle of offensive superpowers.
"I won't protect this bandaged bastard," Chuuya mumbled, his cheeks puffed out with rice.
However, it's obvious to anyone with eyes that this means they've agreed.
"Really... they didn't include me..."
Gogol's head lolled to the side, and he slumped onto the table as if his life force had been completely drained. "No one for me? Really no one for me? I can disguise myself as a Japanese! Yoroshiku!"
Aside from Chuuya, who was completely clueless about the reference, Dazai and Odasaku both stared at him in silence, “…………”
The last phrase, "[Yoroshiku]", is a common expression used by young people in Japanese biker gangs, also known as bosozoku, and is similar to shouting "Nice to meet you!" in a loud voice with a trilled "r" sound.
The members of the biker gangs are often delinquent youth groups, which leads to [Yoroshiku] being basically associated with delinquent youths in schools.
Gogol's first half of the speech was in standard Japanese, but he deliberately pronounced the last sentence with a trilled "r," which was an imitation of the speech of Japanese biker gangs.
“That’s the real underworld,” Dazai Osamu said softly. “If you speak to them like that, you’ll be humiliated and have your little finger cut off as an apology.”
Gogol: "Huh!?"
After being greatly surprised, he wrapped his cloak around himself and hid his little finger. His right hand, with its remaining four fingers, waved and flipped its palm back and forth, tried to make a fist, and even held his "missing" little finger in his left hand and cried out twice.
"Like this—? Wow, this feels really amazing! Great, I've got inspiration for my next magic show!"
Dazai Osamu, unsure how to react to Gogol's antics, simply said, "...Ah, um, that's right."
Why does this guy act so unpredictably, with every move he makes going against my expectations?
“The Port Mafia was modeled after the European Mafia, and its members only need to wear black suits; but the Takase-kai is a thoroughly local organization, and they are keen on using large tattoos to declare their identity,” Dazai Osamu continued.
"Ah, so if we want to infiltrate, we need to get a tattoo first?" Chuuya pointed to himself, a subtle look of disgust on his face.
Who would want to put something on their body that can't be washed off?!
"Huh? No way! Tattoos hurt so much, I hate pain the most," Dazai Osamu said with a disgusted expression. "Just draw it on with some paint, that'll do."
Ye Yihe thought for a moment, and realized that there shouldn't be any tattoo stickers for sale in this day and age... that would be more convenient.
“There’s another preparatory work,” Dazai Osamu said, glancing at Ye Yihe and blinking his iris-like eyes.
“Odasaku, Chuuya, and I all need a custom-made high-end black suit, in the style of the Port Mafia… Hmm, we can make some slight alterations and add some other elements…”
"Next, according to the intelligence provided by the Special Abilities Division—the real show is about to begin."
…………
A large underground casino located in Kanagawa-cho, Minami-ku, Yokohama, also engaged in loan sharking, providing gaming services, and selling drugs.
In short, when government oversight is ineffective, these multi-functional, all-encompassing illegal casinos that squeeze every last drop of blood from their customers are extremely chaotic, and the rules that everyone respects are not the law, but the so-called "rules of the underworld."
Because there is absolutely no regulation, the casino is extremely open, with not only a bustling entertainment area, a rest area specifically for "smoking and drinking," but also a VIP area for those looking for more exciting fun.
As one of the important sources of income for the [Takase-kai], Takase Taisei, the leader assigned to this area, was extremely dedicated to it.
He would come by at least once every night, stay for quite a while, greet his wealthy and powerful old customers, and make sure nothing went wrong before leaving with peace of mind.
Sometimes, he would sit down and play a couple of hands of cards himself, happily listening to his subordinates praise his good luck in every possible way.
Tonight, as usual, when Takase Taisei passed through the entertainment district, he noticed that one scene was different from usual.
Although there are always crowds of people watching the gambling tables, it is rare to see a scene like this where almost half the casino's population is drawn to the table, yet almost no one speaks and everyone is just intently watching.
"What's going on?" He beckoned to the entertainment area manager and asked, pointing over there.
“They are three unfamiliar guests,” the manager replied respectfully, “two of whom are even quite young teenagers.”
In this underground casino that completely disregards the law, minors are just as common as adults, and this cannot be the reason for the current spectacle.
Takase Daisei gestured for him to continue.
"They were wearing black suits, probably members of some organization. But the key point is, the dark-haired boy among them, from the moment he entered, walked around the entertainment area, chose to sit at the No-Limit Texas Hold'em table, and then..."
The supervisor paused for a moment, swallowed quietly, and continued, "We've won until now."
"You mean... he won every single game?" Takase Taisei pondered for a moment, then asked again with suspicion.
The rules of Texas Hold'em are not complicated. Each round has 2 to 10 players, with a maximum of 22 players. Players who sit at the table are dealt two hole cards at the start and need to make the best five cards from the five community cards dealt to the table later.
The dealer will place three cards, one card, and one card in turn on the community table. After each placement, the players will have the option to skip, call, or fold.
There are two possible outcomes: either all players except one fold, and that player wins all the cards; or two or more players do not fold and start calling until the five community cards are revealed, at which point all players show their hole cards, and the winner takes all the cards.
To a novice, it may seem like a game of luck, but to a top Texas Hold'em player, it's a contest of card counting and psychological warfare.
If someone says a player keeps winning, the default meaning is that "he never folds and wins every time".
For top Texas Hold'em pros, it would be easy to achieve this effect if they condescended to play against novices; but if the person sitting at the table is not a novice, and the winner is not a poker pro, but a young teenager—then the result becomes quite intriguing.
"Did he cheat?" Takase Taisei stroked his chin. "Has Agui been arrested yet?"
“I’ve seen it,” the supervisor said. “No problem. That young man doesn’t always win because of his cards. I should say… his control over people is unparalleled.”
"You mean, a teenager, rather than an old man with decades of experience playing cards, has such a thorough understanding of the psychology of Texas Hold'em players?"
"Yes, you'll know once you go and see for yourself."
Of course, Takase Taisei had to go and see for himself—someone who could win every hand at the poker table like that was either there to cause trouble or to get a chance to meet him.
This tactic is always effective, provided that the person has the corresponding strength.
When the owner of this underground casino, Takase Taisei, arrived, the crowd made way for him, allowing him to reach the card table without any obstruction.
The people sitting at the gambling table were all regular customers who came to play Texas Hold'em. They came from the political and business circles, and Takase Daisei could clearly call out the names of each of them.
But their usual relaxed and carefree demeanor was now unusually tense—or rather, they were sweating profusely.
The boy they were facing was indeed a stranger. Beneath his short, slightly curled black hair were a pair of deep iris-colored eyes. He wore a pure black coat over his thin shoulders, and underneath he wore a black suit and white shirt, a common outfit among members of the Mafia. His slender fingers were casually toying with a few chips, making a soft clinking sound.
To his right was a mountain of chips that would take two hands to encircle.
Even though he won more money than most people could ever see in a lifetime, his expression remained indifferent to the point of being cold, showing no sign of joy.
Only those dark, deep iris-colored eyes stared expressionlessly at the follower who was furrowing his brow in deep thought.
A sense of oppression.
These are the words that would instinctively come to mind for anyone who sees him for the first time.
No one dared to underestimate him, who was at most fourteen or fifteen years old, just as no one dared to underestimate a quiet, hungry cheetah.
But he possesses an overwhelming aura of dominance that surpasses even that of a cheetah, like a deathly shadow emerging from the depths of darkness.
He was a natural leader, better suited than anyone else to walk in the bloody and cruel darkness.
Takase Taisei's expression turned serious. He scrutinized the other person for several moments, confirming that he had never seen this person before.
Behind the young man stood two other men, also dressed in black suits, presumably his bodyguards or subordinates.
One of the young men had copper-colored hair and an equally indifferent expression—Takase Taisei felt he looked familiar, but couldn't quite place him.
The other boy, with short orange hair, seemed much more lively. He was currently staring at the black-haired boy with a furrowed brow, his expression revealing a sense of resistance, yet also a feeling of frustration at having to continue being there.
This orange-haired boy was also a stranger.
At this point, the game has reached the stage where the dealer deals the cards, which is the second dealing of the cards.
There are four community cards on the table. Takase Daisei glanced at them and found that none of them were the same and the numbers were not consecutive.
The three players, including the black-haired boy, who have not yet folded, each have two unrevealed bottom cards—the key to whether they can form a good hand.
The black-haired boy had already pushed out a bunch of chips, putting the pressure on the other two to call.
The rules of No-Limit Texas Hold'em are that the number of chips a player calls must be at least the same as the previous player's bet, and the amount raised must be twice the previous bet. This means that the amount of each bet can increase, with no upper limit.
Soon, one of them couldn't take the pressure anymore. "I fold," he said, throwing his two hole cards back into the pot.
There are two players left at the poker table.
The opponent was clearly extremely hesitant—his hand wasn't bad, and he was debating whether to call; or his hand was equally bad, and he was just bluffing his partner to fold.
I said,
The black-haired boy spoke, his voice, though not loud, sounded cold and gloomy, like a wisp of smoke about to burn out, "Does it take this long to think about it?"
"you……"
Just as the person was about to speak, the black-haired boy's eyes shifted slightly.
Takase Daisei clearly felt that the other party had glanced at him, and that instant feeling was as if his heart had been soaked in ice water, making him almost shrink back—then, that gaze that seemed to pierce his heart was withdrawn and fell on the player who was hesitating whether to call or not.
"You've pretty much gotten tired of playing around by now. Let me think about it for you."
The black-haired boy's lips curved slightly, and his fingertips, which were toying with the chips, twitched slightly. A chip, which represented a large sum of money, was tossed in front of one of the players who had already folded.
“You,” he said, “have an 8 and a 6 in your hole cards, unfortunately you can’t make a straight flush.”
The other person was so taken aback that they blurted out, "How did you know...!"
Players who fold do not need to reveal their hole cards; theoretically, no one should know their hole cards except themselves.
"And you," the black-haired boy casually tossed chips in front of the next player, landing precisely, "your hole cards are an 8 and a K. Why not gamble on the K being the highest? What a pity."
Seeing the same incredulous expression on his opponent's face, the black-haired boy tossed out the next chip. And then the next one.
With each throw, he accurately revealed the opponent's hand, and the murmurs of surprise and affirmation from the opponent only amplified the uproar among the onlookers at the token table.
—Until a chip is dropped to the player who has not yet folded.
The beads of sweat clinging to the other person's nose were already visible to the naked eye.
"7 and 3. That makes two pairs, which is why you want to call."
Even though the black-haired boy was still thin and frail and not very old, no one dared to think of playing cards with him or trying to dampen his spirits. "Now you can guess why I haven't folded yet."
"…………I lost."
The player, disheartened, revealed his hand, proving he hadn't been wrong even once.
The black-haired boy won. Again.
"—Of course, it's to see you all utterly defeated, so thoroughly that you can't even feel despair after being repeatedly tricked by me, and you'll never be able to touch a card again for the rest of your lives."
The last two cards were revealed, and they weren't high-ranking hands like straights or three of a kind; they were just a bunch of low-ranking cards, only seven of a kind.
From the moment he sat down at the poker table tonight, no opponent has been able to leave with a smile.
The crowd erupted in another huge uproar, and Takase Daisei's eyes lit up.
"Damn it, he's just messing with us. He's definitely cheating by looking at the cards in some way!"
One of the players, who had lost all the money he brought that night, was furious. He slammed his fist on the table and roared at his men, "Kill him!"
Before the words were even finished, an orange figure, like a falling meteor, swept past the black-haired boy and charged straight up from the card table—or rather, trampled him and his chair underfoot, displaying an extremely volatile temper.
The other person struggled to lift him up, but found that the gravity applied to him was getting stronger and stronger, until even breathing became difficult.
"Who are you going to kill? Say it again for me."
There was complete silence all around.
"—That's truly remarkable,"
Within moments, Takase Taisei witnessed two surprises and began to applaud enthusiastically.
"You've come to see me, haven't you? Why?"
"Former member of the Port Mafia, Osamu Dazai."
Dazai Osamu turned his face, which was not wrapped in bandages, and gave Takase Taisei an enigmatic smile.
"I came here specifically to seek refuge with you."
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