Chapter Forty: Only One Kind of Person Dies—The Foolish

"You accepted a five-million-yen contract and took a three-million-yen deposit, yet you don't even know who it is you’re supposed to kill?"

Nara Hikaru’s voice carried a rare note of surprise. It was the first time he had encountered someone who, facing death, had no idea whose hands they were dying by.

"Do I need to know? All I need to know is that by killing you, I’ll have five million yen—that’s enough!" Wakaguchi Ren asked again, "Tell me, who are you?"

"Considering I’m about to net two million yen, I’m in a fairly good mood. After you’re dead, I’ll place a plaque on your corpse so you won’t have to wonder what name to carve on your tombstone!"

He gripped his pistol tightly, his finger resting on the trigger. He could pull it at any moment, letting a bullet roar from the chamber to snatch the life from the man in black before him. As for the speed the man had displayed earlier? Hah, he was fast, certainly. But no human speed could outmatch a gun, could outpace a bullet! Because of this, Wakaguchi was certain he held the upper hand, allowing him to mock his opponent with the arrogance of a victor.

Then, his heart sank. He heard an answer he had not expected.

"If you must have a name for me, then I can tell you... others call me the Half-Man, Half-Ghost."

What? Half-Man, Half-Ghost? Wakaguchi’s pupils dilated, his hand trembling as it held the gun. He had heard of this title; it was an urban legend in the Beika Ward area. *Half-Man, Half-Ghost, the Deadliest Shot.* The yakuza organizations in Beika had either been wiped out by this legend or had fled to other parts of Tokyo out of fear, preferring to fight other gangs for territory rather than face the legend head-on. It was said that this urban legend was always dressed in black—black sunglasses, black coat, black hair... just like the man standing before him!

"You are the 'Half-Man, Half-Ghost, the Deadliest Shot'?!" the leader of the Wakaguchi-gumi exclaimed, shocked that he had run into such a heavyweight. How had this guy wandered out of Beika to plague the yakuza in other parts of Tokyo? So much for the legend being exclusive to Beika Ward! But he quickly regained his composure, feeling not fear, but a surge of excitement. "Even so... the advantage is still mine... I’m the one with the gun!"

"Once I pull this trigger, you, the famous urban legend, will die at the hands of a nobody like me. I will become legendary because of this!"

The man in black replied, "Then feel free to try pulling your trigger. See if the gun fires."

"However, I have a habit: I kill anyone who pulls a trigger on me, regardless of whether their gun goes off."

...Whether the gun goes off? I maintain this weapon every day; surely I would know? Wakaguchi scoffed internally, yet a strange, gnawing hesitation took root. He felt... the pistol seemed a bit off. The weight was different, the tactile feel not quite right—or perhaps it was just his imagination.

He watched the man in black pull a coin from his pocket. "Come now, let’s make a wager. Let’s bet on whether there are bullets in your gun and whether it will fire. I’m betting there aren’t any bullets. The stake is this coin. And you... you’re wagering your life!"

Nara Hikaru tossed the coin onto the table. It spun for a long moment before coming to a stop. It was a five-yen coin, the kind typically used for offerings at shrines or donation boxes. And now, Nara Hikaru was using it to bet for Wakaguchi Ren’s life.

"...Do you think I’ll be intimidated by your parlor tricks? Die!"

Wakaguchi’s face shifted through several expressions before he finally shouted as if to vent his frustration and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times. But no bullet erupted from the barrel. The gun did not fire. Overcome by a sudden, uncontrollable terror, he hurriedly ejected the magazine. It was empty. Completely void of ammunition. Just as Nara Hikaru had said—there were no bullets in his gun!

"How is this possible? How could there be no bullets? I loaded it this morning..." he stammered in disbelief. Then, he heard the sound of bullets hitting the tabletop. Clack, clack, clack. Wakaguchi looked up, catching the sight of the final few cartridges spilling from Nara Hikaru’s palm. There were exactly fifteen bullets on the table—the full capacity of the pistol’s magazine.

"Your stupidity is laughable."

"A smart man would not take out a hidden weapon and fire it without checking it first after seeing an enemy near his stash. Similarly, a smart man would not leave his ledger out on the table without hiding it."

"I gave you a chance, but unfortunately, you didn’t cherish it."

"In this world, neither the good nor the wicked die; only one type of person does—"

Nara Hikaru’s voice was icy. For some reason, an immense dread filled Wakaguchi. He felt his strength drain away, his limbs trembling uncontrollably. He looked up, crying out in terror, "Wait! I have money! I have plenty of money! I’ll give it all to you if you let me go! Spare me, I... I have a family to support..."

Nara Hikaru hooked his toe under the katana that had fallen to the floor. *Swish.* The blade flew upward. With a swift strike of his hand against the hilt, the sword became a silver streak. It pierced Wakaguchi Ren’s chest, pinning him backward against the large mural in the office.

The mural was not a traditional ukiyo-e, but a Western-style oil painting—a giant devil with its mouth agape like a gate, and Wakaguchi’s body was pinned directly to it. A trickle of blood slid sideways, landing on the sharp fangs of the devil’s maw, adding a touch of macabre horror.

"—A stupid person."

Nara Hikaru delivered the final verdict. The action, completed in the blink of an eye, was so fast that it was only after Nara Hikaru had finished speaking that the pain finally registered. Wakaguchi wailed and cursed in agony, but there was no response. Nara Hikaru had already left. He left him there, heart pierced and body pinned to the wall, to die in torment.

Nara Hikaru had seen clearly in the ledger: the Wakaguchi-gumi had repeatedly sold heroin and engaged in loan sharking. These things destroyed countless families. Perhaps Wakaguchi Ren did have a family to support, but did the innocent victims he poisoned not have families of their own? People can be sent to prison, but animals belong in hell.