THE ENVOY RETURNS

The meeting was set—meticulously arranged, as all things were in Ash's world. It wasn't just business; it was theater. Every detail, every word, every glance was part of the performance.

At the heart of a penthouse suite, bathed in the cold glow of neon lights spilling through the glass, Ash Shirogiri sat at the head of a sleek, polished table. His reflection stared back at him from the obsidian surface, a ghostly double watching the stage take shape. He exhaled slowly, letting the moment breathe, as if savoring the tension before the first act truly began.

The door clicked open. Right on time. Yukihiro Arata stepped inside with the kind of calculated grace that could make silence feel like a weapon. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The Keiretsu envoy was all precision—measured footsteps, unreadable expression, the kind of presence that made men second-guess their own confidence.

Ash leaned back, tilting his head just so, a smirk playing at his lips as if he had already won before the first words were even spoken. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a sleek data drive, twirling it between his fingers like a magician palming a card. It caught the light in a way that made it feel important.

Then, with deliberate slowness, he placed it on the table and slid it forward. "Takeda Ryo is dead," he announced, his voice silk-wrapped steel. "Burned beyond recognition. But… I had the foresight to preserve a piece. Just for you."

The moment lingered, heavy with suggestion, before Kaito—silent as a shadow—stepped forward, carrying a small case. With a hiss of decompression, the lid lifted, revealing an arm encased in cryogenic stasis. The skin was pale, lifeless, preserved like a relic of some forgotten legend.

Arata barely reacted. Just the slightest flicker of interest in his sharp eyes. "Efficient," he murmured, though his tone made it clear he expected nothing less.

Ash sighed, a slow, theatrical thing. "You wound me, Arata. I was hoping for something more… dramatic." He gestured vaguely toward the arm. "It's not every day I bring a man's limb as proof of my sincerity. At the very least, a raised eyebrow?"

Arata remained unmoved. "We'll verify it."

Ash feigned disappointment, exhaling through his nose as he reached for another card in his deck. He slid a thin data folder across the table. "Ryo also left behind an encrypted archive. Locked so tightly even my AI couldn't crack it." He tapped the folder once, eyes flickering with just the right amount of intrigue. "Maybe the Keiretsu will have better luck."

Arata's gaze didn't move from Ash's face. "And you have no idea what's inside?"

A pause. A perfect, deliberate pause. Then, Ash chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I wish." He leaned forward slightly, voice dipping into something more conspiratorial. "If I had, I might have been able to ask for more in return."

The truth, of course, was something else entirely. He already knew what was inside. Kenshiko, his AI, had cracked the encryption long ago. But some secrets were more valuable wrapped in mystery.

Arata studied him, weighing the words, the tone, the subtext. The silence stretched, then, finally, he reached for the drive and pocketed it with the same casual efficiency as a man filing away an unremarkable document. "I'll pass this along," he said, his voice cool, controlled. "If this proves useful, then you've earned yourself a degree of favor."

Ash let the words roll over him, his smirk never faltering. "That's all I ever aim for."

Arata stood, adjusting his cuffs with the precision of a man who left nothing to chance. "The Keiretsu will be in touch. Try not to make yourself a problem before then."

He turned, stepping toward the door, his presence fading like the last note of a symphony.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Kaito let out a scoff. "Think he bought it?"

Ash exhaled, his gaze drifting to the neon-drenched city below. A maze of lights. A stage waiting for the next act.

"Doesn't matter," he said, voice laced with quiet amusement. "We gave them the story they wanted to hear. Now let's see what they do with it."

Kaito crossed his arms. "And if they come back asking for more?"

Ash's smirk widened, razor-sharp now. "Then we make sure they're asking the wrong questions."

The game wasn't over. It was only getting interesting.