Chapter 19: Relics of the past

After a while, the car came to a halt in front of what seemed to be an abandoned school. The driver stepped out and opened the door for Goto, nodding respectfully. "I was only instructed to bring you here. You're on your own from this point."

Goto stepped out, cigarette still in hand, and took a long drag as he surveyed the area. The schoolyard was eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. The place radiated suspicion, but Goto had never been one to feel fear.

Approaching the main gate, Goto gave it a push, but it was firmly stuck. He glanced upward, noting the height of the fence. It was tall, but not an obstacle for someone like him. With an effortless leap, he scaled the gate and landed softly on the other side.

As he walked down the cracked and overgrown pathway, he entered the main building. The dim hallways were lined with faded posters, dusty plaques, and crumbling walls. Despite the decay, something caught his eye—certificates, trophies, and awards, all neatly displayed on the walls.

Goto stopped to inspect them, his curiosity piqued. The awards were for various achievements—some for sports, but the majority for academics. His sharp eyes picked out a detail that made him pause. All of them bore the same name: James Park.

Goto muttered to himself, "James Park, huh?"

He continued walking, the sound of his boots echoing softly in the empty halls. The sheer number of accolades began to strike him as absurd. There were certificates for advanced mathematics, physics competitions, international debates, and more—fields that even Goto, with his formidable intelligence, would consider grueling.

"This guy's either a prodigy or a fraud," Goto thought, though deep down, he suspected it was the former.

As he turned a corner, he entered what used to be a classroom. The sight before him made him stop in his tracks. The room was chaotic, with trophies scattered across the floor and tables as though someone had hastily abandoned them.

Goto scanned the space, his eyes narrowing. "How does someone even physically achieve this much in one lifetime?" he muttered under his breath.

Then, he noticed a figure sitting in the center of the room. The man was tall, easily 6'2" or taller, and his presence exuded confidence. He was lounging in a chair, legs stretched out casually. His hair, styled in a neat curtain cut, obscured most of his face.

Goto didn't need to see his face to recognize him. A small grin formed on his usually stoic face as he leaned against the doorframe.

"The myth, the man, the legend—James Park," Goto said, his voice laced with sarcasm but tinged with genuine respect.

The man in the chair didn't respond immediately. He raised his head slightly, the light catching the sharp lines of his face. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, one that matched the accolades displayed throughout the school.

"It's been a while, Goto," James said finally, his tone calm but commanding. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Goto flicked the ash off his cigarette and stepped further into the room. "I thought you were a ghost. Seems like you've been hiding in plain sight."

James chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. "Ghosts don't collect trophies, my friend."

Goto took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke lazily. "Fair enough. But tell me, James, what's with the dramatic setting? Could've picked a café."

James gestured to the scattered trophies around him. "This is where it all started. I figured it was fitting for us to meet here, considering what's ahead."

Goto raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is ahead?"

James leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "The Assemblyman, his empire, and everything he stands for. It's time to tear it all down."

Goto extinguished his cigarette against a nearby table.