Chapter 33: Welcome to the Freakshow

The van screeched to a stop outside what could only be described as a junkyard's distant cousin who gave up on life.

Rusty gates hung off their hinges, the faint smell of burnt metal and something suspiciously like rotten cabbage wafting through the air. A crooked sign dangled at the entrance, half the letters missing. The only readable part said: "...ME TO THE FR...SHOW."

Ryuuji stared out the window. "This... is your brilliant safehouse idea?"

Mira shrugged. "I never said it was luxurious. But no one would expect us to hide here."

Hotaru stepped out, her boots crunching against broken glass and what might have once been a garden gnome's head. "I swear to god, if a rat jumps on me, I'm flipping this van."

Kuro hopped down beside her, tail twitching. He seemed almost excited by the filth, which was disturbing on many levels.

Sai adjusted his jacket. "It's temporary. We just need somewhere to regroup and plan."

Tora's voice crackled from the tablet again as she remote-hacked security cameras nearby. "Looks clear — for now. But you guys might want to, you know, scrub yourselves after staying there. I think I saw something moving inside the walls."

"Please be joking," Hotaru muttered, stepping gingerly over a suspicious puddle.

Mira kicked the door open, and the whole building groaned like it was one bad sneeze away from collapsing. Inside, the air was thick with dust, and a disturbing number of mannequins stood around like they were waiting for the apocalypse fashion show to begin. One of them had a pink wig and a pirate hat.

"Whose cursed property is this?" Ryuuji asked, poking a mannequin, which promptly fell over, knocking down two more like haunted dominoes.

"An old contact," Mira said, brushing cobwebs off a couch that might have been alive. "They ran... let's say 'creative business ventures.' Then they got arrested for tax fraud and illegal llama racing."

Hotaru blinked. "Llama racing?"

"Don't ask." Mira collapsed onto the couch, instantly regretting it as a puff of suspicious brown dust flew into her face. "The point is, no one's touched this place in years."

Sai flipped open a rusted cabinet, frowning at a collection of old surveillance equipment, broken radios, and... a stuffed raccoon wearing sunglasses.

"This is hopeless," he muttered.

"Not necessarily." Tora's voice chimed in again. "If the tech's ancient, it means it's off the grid. Kurogane won't be able to trace it easily."

"That's the first good news all day," Hotaru sighed. She dumped the files on a somewhat-stable table. "We work from here until we find Kurogane's weak point."

Ryuuji grinned, draping his arm around one of the mannequins. "I've always wanted to run a secret base from a haunted circus shack."

Mira threw a shoe at him. "Focus, lover boy."

Sai opened another door leading to a back room — and immediately shut it again. "We're not using that room."

"Why?" Hotaru asked.

"It's... full of clown masks."

The group collectively shuddered.

"Alright, team," Hotaru clapped her hands, trying to inject some energy into the room. "We need to lay low, but we also need to keep moving. Kurogane's probably already putting a bounty on our heads after that raid."

Mira tapped her chin. "I could pull a few strings, see if we can intercept the bounty data before it hits the wider networks."

Sai nodded. "And I can start decoding these files — some are ciphered."

Ryuuji stretched. "I'll... decorate."

"No, you won't," Hotaru, Sai, and Mira said in unison.

Kuro leapt onto the table, tail flicking against the files. He let out a long, dramatic meow — as if he alone bore the burden of leadership.

Hotaru scratched his ears. "See? Kuro gets it. Let's get to work."

Outside, the storm clouds thickened — and somewhere in the distance, a phone buzzed.

On the other end of that line, a Kurogane officer answered. "Yes. We've found them."

The hunt wasn't over.

It was just beginning.

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End of Chapter 33