THE SYNDICATE'S RESPONSE

The Underworld Reacted Swiftly

The attack on the Tetsujin forces had sent shockwaves through the underworld. The brutal efficiency of Shirogiri's retaliation—a strike that was as precise as it was punishing—had reverberated across every major syndicate. For years, the Shirogiri name had been nothing but a ghost, a lingering memory of a clan once feared, now a mere footnote in the city's criminal history. But now, that ghost had returned. The Shirogiri weren't just alive; they were a force to be reckoned with.

The ripple effect was immediate. The Tetsujin's loss had made it clear: no one was safe from Ash Atsuyuki's reach. It wasn't just a message—it was a declaration of war. And the syndicates, from the smallest street gangs to the largest corporate-backed families, knew they had no choice but to acknowledge the Shirogiri's resurgence.

To formalize this acknowledgment, a high-level meeting was called in The Jade Circle, an exclusive syndicate forum where disputes were settled, alliances brokered, and the most delicate of negotiations took place. The location itself was an immaculate fortress of glass and steel, high above the city's neon-lit chaos, where power broiled beneath a polished surface.

Every major player from the criminal underworld was in attendance. Corporate moguls, syndicate heads, and power brokers sat at the polished jade table, each one with their own agenda, all with their eyes on Ash. Among them, Madame Kiyoko of the Yamagata Zaibatsu—a woman known for her cold calculation and ruthless efficiency—watched Ash with a faint, almost imperceptible smile. She was the voice of the corporate-backed syndicates, and she didn't waste words.

"It appears the Shirogiri have earned their place," she said softly, her voice carrying authority and a subtle edge of respect.

A low murmur of agreement passed through the chamber. The syndicates had no choice but to acknowledge Ash's rise. His power was undeniable, and though they resented his speed and audacity, they couldn't deny the results. But for Ash, acknowledgment wasn't enough—it never had been.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, surveying the room of power players before him.

"Acknowledgment is nice," he said, his voice cool and measured, "but it doesn't pay for my destroyed assets."

The words hung in the air, and the room fell into a tense silence. Eyes shifted uncomfortably. One of the syndicate bosses, a burly man with a cigar dangling from his lips, scoffed, breaking the stillness.

"Are you serious?" he sneered. "You think we owe you compensation?"

Ash's smirk was all teeth, a predator's grin.

"What, do you expect me to say 'thank you' for burning my shipments? You let this attack happen. That makes it your problem too. Pay up."

The audacity of his demand hit like a fist. Some at the table bristled, clearly offended by Ash's directness and perceived disrespect. A few exchanged glances, clearly weighing the options—negotiate, ignore, or make an example of him. Others, though, watched with quiet interest. Some saw it as arrogance, others saw it as a power play they could respect.

Madame Kiyoko tapped her fingers rhythmically against the table, her sharp eyes studying Ash with cold precision.

"You are either foolish or fearless, Ash," she said, her voice tinged with both amusement and caution. "Demanding tribute so soon after making enemies?"

Ash met her gaze unflinchingly, his smirk growing.

"Fearless," he said, his voice unwavering. "And I get what I'm owed."

The room fell into an even heavier silence, every pair of eyes now fixed on him, waiting. For a long moment, no one spoke, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, slowly, Madame Kiyoko's lips curled into a smile—a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes but held the weight of a decision.

"Very well," she said, her tone cool and calculating. "A settlement will be arranged."

Some of the syndicate leaders exchanged frustrated glances, muttering among themselves. It was clear they weren't thrilled by the idea of paying Ash for his losses, but none of them dared to speak out loud. The stakes were too high. A war with the Shirogiri was a game none of them were ready to play—not yet.

As Ash stood up to leave the meeting, Kaito, who had been standing in the corner with his usual detached demeanor, chuckled softly. "You really just demanded payment from the people who wanted you dead."

Ash's smirk never wavered as he made his way toward the exit, his presence radiating confidence. "And they paid, didn't they?" he replied, the satisfaction in his voice clear. "That's the difference between them and us. I don't ask for favors. I take what's mine."

And with that, Ash Atsuyuki left The Jade Circle, his reputation solidified even further, his power strengthened. The world of syndicates and corporations might have thought it was merely a negotiation. But Ash knew better. It was a reminder. A reminder that the Shirogiri were back. And they weren't just playing the game—they were rewriting the rules.