THE ENVOY'S WARNING

The Shirogiri Manor was quiet, but Ash knew better than to mistake that for peace. Silence, for him, was often the calm before the storm—the stillness before the fury of war. The heavy scent of polished wood and leather lingered in the air as the dim light from the overhead chandelier bathed the grand hall in a cool, almost ethereal glow.

Ash sat at the head of the long, black stone table, his posture straight, eyes unreadable. The sound of distant footsteps echoed through the halls, growing closer, and he knew exactly who would emerge from the shadows.

The doors slid open with a soft hum, and there he was—the Keiretsu envoy, Arata.

Arata moved with an air of unshakable confidence, his every step deliberate, his presence almost suffocating in its precision. His dark suit was pristine, tailored to perfection, and he wore it like a second skin, each movement calculated, as if every gesture was made with the kind of purpose only someone who truly understood power could manage. Ash had no doubt that Arata was a survivor, one who had risen through the ranks of the Keiretsu by being ruthless, careful, and always calculating his next move.

Kaito, standing by Ash's side, remained a rock of stillness. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his muscles was palpable. There was history between him and Arata—history Ash could sense but could not yet fully understand. It was an unspoken weight in the room, and neither man acknowledged it.

Arata stopped a few paces before Ash, his gaze steady, but his smile—polite, almost too practiced—betrayed the hidden game behind his words. "It's been a long time, Kaito," he said, his voice smooth but tinged with something that only those who had walked in the same circles could understand. "And an even longer time since the Shirogiri name held such prominence."

Ash didn't flinch. He remained still, his gaze unwavering. The smile on Arata's face didn't move, but it didn't matter. Ash had already seen through the mask. The Keiretsu envoy wasn't here to exchange pleasantries. He was here to make a statement, and Ash was ready to hear it.

"You didn't come here to reminisce," Ash said, his voice sharp, the cool tone laced with the weight of command. "Speak."

The faint smile on Arata's lips didn't falter, but his eyes hardened slightly, the unspoken message clear. "The Keiretsu have taken notice of your… rapid rise," he said, each word measured, and yet there was something underneath them—an edge. "And they are not pleased."

Ash leaned back in his chair, unfazed. His expression remained blank, but his mind churned, calculating. "Are they afraid?"

Arata didn't even blink. "They don't fear you," he replied smoothly, but his voice hinted at something darker, more knowing. "They acknowledge you. That is why I am here. The Keiretsu have ruled the world's power structures for decades, Ash. What you've done is impressive—no one can deny that. But you are now stepping onto our battlefield. There are rules, Ash. And breaking them… has consequences."

Kaito scoffed from his position beside Ash, his arms crossed, his tone dripping with disdain. "Rules? Since when did the Keiretsu care about rules? They rewrite them whenever it suits them."

Arata's gaze flicked to Kaito, but he barely gave him the time of day before turning back to Ash. His voice was colder now, more direct. "This is an opportunity, Shirogiri. The Keiretsu is willing to offer you a place—a position of power, under their terms. Accept, and you will be granted control over the underworld without interference. You will hold sway over the criminal world, untouched by corporate hands. Decline," he said, letting the word linger in the air like a shadow, "and... well, history is filled with those who thought themselves untouchable."

Ash watched Arata intently, studying him like a puzzle. Every word the man spoke was carefully chosen, every breath controlled. This wasn't a warning. It wasn't a negotiation. This was an ultimatum—one the Keiretsu had likely decided would leave Ash with little choice but to accept.

Arata took a step back, his posture still perfect. A slow, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Ash didn't flinch. Instead, his lips curled into a small, knowing smirk—an expression that betrayed nothing but the quiet certainty that the game was already in motion, and he was the one pulling the strings. "Tell the Keiretsu… I make my own rules," Ash said, his voice smooth and cold as steel.

Arata's eyes narrowed just slightly at the response, a flicker of something passing through them—a mixture of acknowledgment and subtle caution. "I expected you to say that," he said, his voice almost regretful, but still filled with an unsettling calm. "Let's hope you understand the weight of your decision."

He turned, his movements as deliberate as ever, and began to walk toward the door. Before stepping out, he glanced back over his shoulder, his gaze cutting like a knife. "The Keiretsu will respond soon. Be ready."

With that, the doors slid shut behind him, leaving a lingering silence in the wake of his departure.

Kaito exhaled sharply, his frustration clear. "Damn bastard," he muttered, his voice low but edged with anger. "He's still playing games with us."

Ash's gaze never left the spot where Arata had stood just moments before. The envoy's words echoed in his mind, but his resolve remained unshaken. The game had begun, and Ash was more than ready to play.

"Let them come," Ash said softly, the smirk still lingering on his lips as he slowly rose from his seat. His tone was final, almost detached, as if he were already several steps ahead. "Let the Keiretsu play their hand. They have underestimated me before. They will do so again."

Kaito's jaw clenched, but he nodded, understanding his leader's intent. The Keiretsu were powerful, but they had forgotten one crucial thing—Ash Shirogiri didn't play by their rules. He would rewrite them. And the world would follow.

As Ash turned away from the table, his mind raced with the implications of the Keiretsu's offer—and their threat. The battle for the underworld had only just begun, but this time, it wouldn't be a simple power struggle. This was something more. This was a war for control of the future. And Ash Shirogiri wasn't about to let anyone take that from him.