THE KEIRETSU CONVENE

In a private boardroom, high above the neon-drenched skyline, the Keiretsu Syndicate convened.

The long, polished table gleamed under the dim lighting, reflecting the sharp suits of its occupants: corporate executives with their calculating eyes, crime lords whose influence extended far beyond the streets, and old-money oligarchs with faces carved by decades of power. The air was thick with the weight of hidden agendas, and the walls were lined with digital screens displaying a steady stream of financial data, political influence metrics, and recent underworld developments—each number and figure a tool in their unseen hands.

At the head of the table, Chairman Hoshigawa sat, his fingers steepled in quiet contemplation, the embodiment of calm authority. His dark eyes, though unreadable, burned with the quiet intensity of a man who had seen and orchestrated countless moves on the global chessboard. "Let's discuss Shirogiri," he said, his voice carrying a cold finality that commanded attention.

Sakaguchi Renji, a powerful financier with a reputation for ruthlessness, leaned forward, his sharp gaze never leaving Hoshigawa's face. "He completed the task. Takeda Ryo is dead. The DNA test confirmed it. The remains were… convincing," Renji said, his voice tinged with an air of businesslike satisfaction.

"Convincing isn't certainty," Madame Kiyoko interjected, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable edge. Her silver hair gleamed like a crown in the soft light, and her presence exuded the quiet authority of someone who had long played this game from the shadows. "Ryo was resourceful. If Shirogiri truly eliminated him, then he's efficient—but if this was a deception, then he's dangerous. A man who can deceive the Keiretsu is a force we must reckon with."

Kenzo Aiba, a high-ranking industrial mogul with a sharp, angular face and a reputation for cold pragmatism, scoffed at the idea. "The real question isn't whether Ryo is dead—it's whether Shirogiri is controllable." His fingers drummed impatiently on the table, the rhythm betraying his eagerness for action.

Arata, seated at the far end of the room, remained silent, observing the exchange with a detached intensity. His gaze flickered between the other members, taking in every word, every slight change in posture, and finally, when the discussion seemed to stagnate, he spoke. "He handled the situation cleanly. No unnecessary noise, no collateral damage. That suggests discipline. But there's something else—he delivered an encrypted vault, claiming his own AI couldn't break it."

A brief murmur rippled through the room. The mention of Shirogiri's AI was enough to raise the stakes. Hoshigawa raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not yet convinced. "And?"

Arata allowed himself a small smirk, but underneath it, a flicker of frustration burned. "The vault Shirogiri delivered... It's a masterpiece of encryption. Our best analysts have been working around the clock, and so far? Nothing. The algorithms shift unpredictably. We estimate it could take months, maybe years, to crack. And that's assuming it's even possible."

A heavy silence descended upon the room, each member of the Keiretsu aware of the gravity of Arata's words. Hoshigawa's gaze darkened, his composure faltering for just a moment. "You're telling me we don't even know what's inside?"

Arata let out a slow exhale, a flicker of frustration escaping through the cracks of his carefully controlled demeanor. "We have no leverage here. If Shirogiri truly doesn't know what's in the vault, then he's just as blind as we are. But if he does... then he's already ten steps ahead, and we handed him the perfect alibi." His voice lowered slightly, a hint of tension creeping in. "This could be a trap, or worse, a distraction."

Hoshigawa's face hardened, his expression a mask of cold calculation. "A mere upstart outmaneuvered us. We dictated the terms, and yet he controlled the outcome."

Arata's voice took on a more serious tone. "It's not just Shirogiri—it's his AI. Kenshiko. It's beyond anything we've encountered. It's not just encryption; it's adaptive, self-reinforcing. Every time we think we're making progress, the parameters shift. We're chasing a ghost. It's a perfect system of defense."

The silence deepened, each member of the Keiretsu grappling with the implications of Arata's words. The boardroom, once filled with voices and clinking glasses, now felt like a tomb, the weight of failure pressing on their shoulders. Madame Kiyoko's fingers drummed steadily on the table, a sign of her growing impatience. "He's ambitious, then. That makes him useful—but also volatile. Such men are dangerous when they feel untouchable."

Kenzo Aiba leaned back in his chair, his steely gaze never leaving Hoshigawa. "And what do we do with ambitious men? We either break them, or we bring them in. There's no middle ground."

Hoshigawa sat still, his hands steepled in thought. His eyes were hard, unwavering as they scanned the room. "Not yet," he said finally, his voice deliberate and calm. "We watch him. Let him believe he's ahead. The moment he oversteps, we remind him who truly runs this city."

A subtle shift in the room's energy followed, as if the decision had been made, though it hung like a veil—hidden, but undeniable. Hoshigawa's words were a directive, clear and chilling in their finality.

"For now, Shirogiri has the upper hand," Hoshigawa continued, his voice a low hum of authority. "But in time, we will see if he truly understands the cost of winning this game."

The room fell into another heavy silence, the kind that only those who wield immense power can sustain. They were left grasping at shadows—vulnerable, but not defeated. Not yet.

And in that silence, one thing was clear: Ash Shirogiri's victory was not just a battle won—it was a signal that the war had only just begun.

This version expands the scene, deepening the psychological warfare between the Keiretsu members. It highlights their fears and ambitions while allowing Arata's frustration and Hoshigawa's calm dominance to emerge more clearly. Adding more detail to their thoughts and reactions to Shirogiri's move makes the tension palpable, reinforcing the power dynamics and setting up the battle for control.