Chapter 58: The Outcome for the Island Nation This Time

In this moment, Hideo Hattori was utterly shattered. Within the police circles of the island nation, a legend had long circulated: there was a certain little princess, an untouchable presence, destined one day to descend upon their ranks. This was more than ten years ago. Back then, Hideo Hattori was still a promising young man, full of righteousness, without any vices, blessed with a loving wife and son by his side—a life of contentment. The talk of a police princess he had always dismissed as mere urban legend, nothing more than a tale to laugh off.

But today, that “legend” he had so carelessly brushed aside had become reality before his very eyes.

The Harui clan, a dynasty in the police force, was said to be brimming with talent—though, regrettably, all male. A cadre of high-IQ men: the nine most powerful commissioners and those in even loftier positions all hailed from this family. As for those below the rank of commissioner, they were as numerous as the stars.

It was said that this family had a single, cherished little girl—the only daughter, lauded as the beloved little princess of the police world. This myth, whispered for more than a decade, was now standing before him in the flesh.

He recalled what Sakura Harui had told him: “My dream is to become a detective, but my family disagrees. They say it’s too dangerous, and even changed my career preferences for me.” He had always thought it was just the ordinary love of a family for their child—never imagining there was such depth to it all. Indeed, it wasn’t so simple to change one’s career path to police inspector on a whim. Why hadn’t he considered the power behind such a move?

Tears streamed down Hideo Hattori’s face. When had he abandoned his own dreams and family? Was it the day he first stepped into the world of horse racing at the urging of his colleagues? There was no going back now. Realizing this, he roared in anger, “We can’t surrender! It’s a dead end for all of us!”

His words incited some among the Takeda family, stirring up a spirit of resistance. Instantly, a dozen men stood, drawing the guns hidden in their coats.

But before they could fight back, gunfire erupted all around them. Each man who stood was struck down, bursts of blood blooming from their bodies, spraying into the sunset.

“Hostages! Hostages!” Hideo Hattori was now in a state of mad desperation. In that instant, what flashed through his mind was not the current carnage, but the memory of the first time he had held his wife’s hand, their first kiss—a night when the snowfall was beautiful. He had never liked the cold, but that night, he thought it was wonderful.

Yet as he charged toward Sakura Harui, eyes bloodshot and wide, the air was once again filled with the thundering roar of machinery. This time, massive military helicopters appeared.

Before he could react, four helicopters hovered overhead. Six ropes were thrown down, and along each, figures descended rapidly. Almost simultaneously, snipers aboard the helicopters picked off those guarding Sakura Harui with clinical precision.

“Major Nao Harui, Kanto Marine Corps, cooperating with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police to rescue the hostages,” announced a young man in windproof sunglasses from the helicopter, speaking calmly through a loudspeaker. “All who resist will be executed on the spot for first-degree offenses.”

With the joint force of the military and police, even the nation's Martial Arts Alliance dared not offer open resistance. Hideo Hattori gazed blankly at the circling helicopters and collapsed to the ground.

He knew he was finished—utterly finished. Though it was rare for the death penalty to be handed down in his country, he was certain that his fate this time was sealed. The rest of his life—and perhaps the next—would be spent behind bars. Yet amidst his despair, he felt a faint glimmer of hope, as if a crack had appeared in the shell of his heart.

Would his wife and son visit him, now that they knew what had become of him?

Moments ago, he had wished for Sakura Harui’s death. Now, he felt that her survival might be his only redemption.

Laughing through his tears, he closed his eyes.

As the ship carrying Tetsu Takeda and Kaien Xiao neared the port of Tokyo, the scene that greeted them was of military and police forces sealing off the harbor as tightly as an iron fortress.

Kaien Xiao, having been psychologically prepared by Rin Hagiwara, was not much surprised. But Tetsu Takeda’s eyes grew all the more despondent.

Kaien Xiao was not an opponent he could hope to defeat. As the heir of a distinguished family, lowering his head was a near-impossible thing for Tetsu Takeda.

“Dock somewhere else,” he ordered, putting away the phone pressed to his ear. Shoving it into his pocket, he stared at Kaien Xiao, as if trying to see through him. “Kaien Xiao, do you have feelings for Churan?”

This was the question that mattered most to him.

“She’s my sister,” Kaien Xiao replied, considering for a moment. Tetsu Takeda’s question didn’t make sense to him. “Love or not, it’s all the same to me—she’s my sister.”

“I see,” Tetsu Takeda lowered his head again, as if confessing, or perhaps simply talking to himself. “I’ve liked her for more than six years—ever since she first came to school.”

“But I never said anything—just watched her, hoping she’d know, somehow.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “But I always knew there was someone in her heart.”

He looked up, eyes shining, at Kaien Xiao. “That someone is you, isn’t it?”

“There’s no blood relation between us,” Kaien Xiao replied with a smile, hands in his pockets, standing in the sunset, looking rather cool. “The feelings between us—you wouldn’t understand.”

His relationship with Churan Jiang was a tangle of familial affection and romantic love, impossible to sort out or define.

“But what I do know is this: she’s my sister, and I want her to be happy. But you’re not the man who can give her that happiness.”

Kaien Xiao’s insight was sharp as a blade. Tetsu Takeda fell silent and lowered his head.

In the hush between them, the ship found a new berth and slowly came to shore.

Kaien Xiao glanced back at Tetsu Takeda, who still maintained a meditative pose. He parted his lips as if to speak, but said nothing in the end. Their worlds were simply too different—no reconciliation was possible.

It was only after Kaien Xiao had left that Tetsu Takeda slowly opened his eyes.

But the light of ambition that had once sparkled there was gone.

Clanging down the makeshift gangway, step by step, he felt his mood grow all the heavier.

Night had fallen. Thick fog rose around the shore, swallowing Tetsu Takeda’s figure whole.

“Is this the end?” he muttered with a bitter smile, straightening his suit. Just as he was about to step forward, a short blade plunged straight through the center of his chest!

The strike was silent, as was the hand that clamped over his mouth from behind.

He could only struggle, letting out muffled, unwilling cries, while his assailant slowly drew the blade from his chest.

In that moment, all strength left him. He collapsed onto the ground, and the last thing he saw was the cold water of Tokyo Bay, its surface shimmering with starlight.