Chapter Nineteen: The Five Immortal Vassals

The Kurohane High Estate loomed over the hill like a shadowed fortress—ancient, austere, and untouched by time. Within its walled compound, a grand meeting room lay at its heart: tatami floors, sliding shoji screens, and lacquered wood framing a solemn, sacred quiet.

Here, gathered beneath the silent gaze of ancestral portraits, were the Five Immortal Vassals—each one a master of their domain, sworn in blood to serve the Kurohane syndicate.

Masaki Kamaguchi was already seated, back straight, legs folded in perfect seiza. Dressed in a deep indigo kimono with gold trimming, his glasses caught the candlelight in a sharp gleam. His gaze was unreadable as he calmly sipped green tea.

The door slid open. A mountain stepped into the room.

Genzou Araragi, head of the Araragi-kai, walked in with the slow weight of thunder. Towering and broad-shouldered, his presence was like a war drum. His body was covered in full traditional irezumi—dragons, oni, and sacred lotus flowers in dark, vivid ink. His rugged, commanding face was marked by years of battle, and he moved with the certainty of a man who'd never lost a fight. His black kimono was simple, but his exposed forearms told the story—each scar and faded tattoo a badge of war. He said nothing as he sat, arms crossed, like a statue carved from violence itself.

Next arrived Shigure Tsujihara of the Tsujihara-gumi. Pale, composed, and ethereal, with his jet-black hair tied in a low knot. His sharply defined features and cold, calculating demeanor gave off a sense of quiet danger. He moved like fog—silent, measured, ghostly. He nodded once to Masaki and sat without a word, sliding a black folder from his sleeve onto the table.

Reika Minazuki entered soon after. Grace followed her like perfume. She was stunning—long black hair, eyes calm as still water, lips painted a deep crimson. Her beauty was unmistakable, yet there was something cold and unsettling behind her gaze. In her silver-trimmed kimono, her presence was both regal and intimidating. The matriarch of the Minazuki-kai bowed with elegance, her crimson lips offering the room a faint, knowing smile.

And finally, the storm.

Daigo Kagutsuchi kicked the door open with zero regard for ceremony. His white hair was wild and untamed, contrasting his deep tan and athletic frame. His sharp features and arrogant smirk radiated chaos and pride. He wore a vibrant patterned shirt open to reveal coiling tattoos of dragon and flames wrapped around his torso and shoulders. He smirked, barefoot, untamed, and dropped down on the mat with a loud yawn.

"This better be good," he said, cracking his neck. "I skipped a turf beating for this."

Masaki's fingers tapped once against his teacup. "We're not here to entertain you, Daigo."

"You're never here to entertain. Just bore."

"Enough," Reika said gently, though the steel in her voice silenced the room.

Genzou's gravel-like tone followed. "Get to the point, Kamaguchi. We all know why we're here."

Masaki adjusted his glasses, his voice calm but chilling. "My son, Sora, has suffered a critical defeat. One that threatens the image of the Kamaguchi-gumi."

Shigure opened the folder in front of him. Inside were surveillance photos, a few reports, whispers compiled by his network.

"The boy—Ryuji Tatsugami," Shigure said softly. "He's far more dangerous than we assumed. His background remains shielded, but the whispers grow louder."

Reika's smile faded. "There are rumors. Students speaking against Sora, mocking the Kamaguchi name. Even questioning the power of the Five."

Daigo snorted. "About time. Kid's got teeth. Broke your little prince like a twig, didn't he?"

Masaki's eyes narrowed. "This is no laughing matter. If he continues to gain influence, especially at Sakuragi High, it may unravel our order from within."

Genzou grunted. "So what do you propose?"

Masaki looked at each of them. "For now, we wait. Let's see what the oyabun decides about this matter."

Silence followed.

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