Who said anything about killing?

As the masked person hauled Natsuo into the dark, filthy warehouse, a musty smell welcomed him. After being introduced to the yakuza group standing in a circle, he sensed conflict was coming. He could feel their eyes on him as he was pulled to the side and compelled to kneel on the ground.

His eyes drifted to Jiro and he looked at him shamefully. He tried to apologize silently for revealing himself and putting him in this dangerous situation - no words could describe how foolish he felt. He saw his friend gritting his teeth, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

Miyahara then turned his attention to the lurker and narrowed his gaze as he studied the slender figure with wet socks and wild, unkempt hair.

"And what might you be?" he asked in a throaty and stern voice.

The boss of the rival clan had a full beard that hid most of his cheeks and a pair of small brown eyes. His head was covered in a fedora, shading his sharp gaze with its wide brim.

"He had a gun carved by Kamiwara," the masked person stated with a slight bow and gave the pistol to his oyabun. The man took it to his fingers and inspected it up close, furrowing his eyebrows as he examined every detail.

He let out a gruff laugh that was accompanied by a sinister grin.

"Well, this has changed everything."

The man strolled back and forth, tapping his palm with the gun as he contemplated the situation.

His followers stood beside the two outsiders and tracked their leader's every gesture. They were all dressed in black and held weapons tightly in their hands, prepared to act if necessary.

"I need someone. A subject. A stranger. Someone who won't be missed. Someone who has no family to ask questions."

"I won't work for anyone else but my oyassan. You can use me for whatever you need, but I won't betray my loyalty," Jiro replied, growing defiant as he stared the man down.

Miyahara shook his head.

"No, that won't do. I need someone unconnected to Aoi Kamiwara."

The rival gang leader gave the white-haired one a malicious smile.

"But you have already brought me what I wanted. You have done your part."

Natsuo listened to them with an unreadable expression. He remained silent and thoughtful, shifting his gaze between his associate and the opposing figure.

Jiro's brows wrinkled and he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Miyahara cut him off.

"You brought an outsider to watch your back, ready to pull the trigger if necessary. Because this was a peaceful negotiation between our families, you would be punished if you acted violently. So, you brought a potential assassin - and probably the ideal candidate for my needs."

Jiro's face twisted into a deep scowl as he heard the competing boss' words. He stood motionless, his hands balled into fists as he waited for Miyahara to finish his statement.

"I will call your saiko-komon and tell him you did a great job. The truce between our families can continue."

The man then unloaded the pistol and let the bullets drop onto his palm before putting them in his suit's pocket. He looked the rival follower in the eyes and nodded, signaling the end of their meeting.

"You are free to leave. Do not wander uninvited into our territory anymore," the oyabun smiled as he handed the gun back to its rightful owner.

"And thank you very much for your generous gift," he added in a pleased tone.

The two roommates gave each other a serious and meaningful look, their eyes lingering on each other as if they were trying to communicate something unspoken. The air between them was charged with tension and time stood still for a moment - before finally, their opponents dragged the other away, and forcefully escorted him away from the scene.

(Later that night)

Natsuo squinted against the harsh fluorescent lamp lights when a hood was ripped off his face. He had been shoved into the back of a van, which drove him to an unknown location.

Now, after being pushed forward with bound hands, he found himself in a gloomy basement with damp walls that smelled strongly of mold. The only light source came from the crackle of the ceiling bulbs, which coated the dank space with an unforgiving glare.

Natsuo soon realized he was in a makeshift chemical lab. A variety of vials with various colored liquids lined up on the shelves, alongside beakers and test tubes. All kinds of instruments and chemistry notes were hung on the wall, with diagrams and equations scribbled on them. He tried to recognize the scientific documents on display, but he was too disoriented to make sense of anything.

The masked person entered, and his eyes scanned the slumped figure with analytical intensity. He slowly approached the center of the room, emanating a commanding aura that made the two other men step back.

"I hope you won't mind staying here," he said in a deep voice.

Natsuo's mind was empty and he stared ahead blankly. It was obvious that he had been used as a bargaining chip. He knew that his fate was ultimately in the hands of a bunch of criminals, but he wasn't sure what part his roommate had played - had he attempted to get him caught and then used him as a negotiating tool?

"Tell me your name, kid."

The masked person crouched in front of their captive and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. He then took out a knife and carved a shallow cut on the eighteen-year-old's cheek, just enough to draw a few drops of blood.

"I will give you one more chance. Name yourself and I won't cut off your tongue."

Natsuo gathered his senses and muttered his name in an uncertain voice. The man nodded as if pleased with the candidate's response.

"Then, tell me where you are from."

The prisoner felt he had no choice but to tell the truth. His only hope was that his honest answers wouldn't be used against him - or make matters worse.

"So, are you going to kill me?" he asked cautiously. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to die there, one way or another.

The man smiled behind his mask, making the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

"Kill? Who said anything about killing?"

He slipped his mask off, and revealed a jagged scar running along his lip to his jawline. His features were weathered and hardened as if he had seen many battles in his life. He had dark, unwavering eyes that seemed to penetrate any barrier or obstacle - including the slender figure facing him.

"Oh, we have better plans for you when you are alive."