Hanko Demitri let out a slow, irritated sigh as if the mere act of shifting his attention required effort. For a moment longer, he stayed focused on the woman feeding him, lazily chewing as if nothing in the room had changed. Then, finally, his eyes drifted upward. Not toward Kenta but toward Hemlock.
"Well," Hanko said, his tone flat, almost bored. "Would you look at that..."
He leaned back slightly in his seat, one hand resting against his cheek as his narrow eyes settled fully on Hemlock.
"Glad to see you made it back," he continued. "I was starting to hear some rather unpleasant rumors."
Hemlock didn't respond. Hanko's lips curled faintly, though there was no real humor behind it.
"Word going around was that you got the shit beaten out of you last night," he said. "Something about you going to deal with a man who decided it was a good idea to mess with the Syndicate."
The room hadn't gone silent, but something had shifted. Conversations dulled. Movements slowed just a little. People nearby were listening without making it obvious. Hanko leaned forward slightly, tapping a finger against his chin as if something had just occurred to him.
"Now that I think about it," he muttered.
His gaze slid, finally, toward Kenta. He looked him over slowly. Deliberately. From head to toe. Then back up again.
"The description I got," Hanko said, pointing lazily in Kenta's direction, "sounds an awful lot like you."
Kenta didn't react as Hanko continued, voice still light, almost conversational.
"Same tied-back brown hair. Same clothes." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And it looks like he's in his early forties. Spitting image of what was described. Isn't that a coincidence
Kenta's eye twitched faintly.
"I'm twenty-eight," he muttered under his breath. "But whatever."
Hanko either didn't hear him or didn't care. His attention shifted back to Hemlock. The faint amusement on his face disappeared.
"Tell me," Hanko said, his voice dropping just slightly, "none of that is true."
Hemlock held his gaze. Didn't speak. Didn't move. Hanko's expression hardened.
"Go on," he said. "Tell me this is all just some big misunderstanding."
Still nothing. Hanko leaned forward further now, elbows resting on his knees, his stare sharpening into something colder.
"Because if it's not..." he said quietly, "you've got a lot to explain."
Kenta stepped forward. The movement was simple, but it cut cleanly through the tension.
"This is between us," Kenta said.
Hanko's eyes flicked toward him. Kenta didn't hesitate. "Hemlock can step back."
There was no aggression in his tone. No raised voice. Just certainty.
Hemlock let out a quiet sigh behind him. "Finally," he muttered.
He raised both hands slightly, as if surrendering to the situation, and took a few steps back without protest. His eyes stayed locked on Hanko, though, sharp and alert.
Kenta remained where he was, standing at the edge of the platform, looking up at the man seated above him. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Hanko studied him. Really studied him this time. Not just a glance. Not just surface-level interest. His eyes locked onto Kenta's, searching for something beneath that calm expression.
Then, slowly Hanko smiled. It was brief. It was fleeting and it didn't reach his eyes. That smile twisted just slightly as it faded, settling into something closer to a frown. Without looking away from Kenta, Hanko flicked his hand to the side.
"Bitches, leave."
The words came out sharp. Dismissive. Immediate. The two women serving him didn't hesitate. The one kneeling stood quickly, lowering the tray as she backed away. The other stepped back just as fast, her hands leaving Hanko's shoulders. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them looked back.
They disappeared into the haze of the room within seconds. Hanko let out another quiet breath, shifting forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees again as he leaned toward Kenta.
The smoke curled between them. The faint sounds of the brothel continued in the background, but they felt distant now. Muted. After a few seconds of silence, Hanko spoke again.
"You said this was between us," he said. "Right?"
Kenta didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Hanko's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then go on," he said. "Enlighten me."
His tone carried a faint edge now. Interest, mixed with irritation.
"What exactly is it," Hanko continued, "that you think is between us?"
Kenta's lips curved into a small, calm grin. He didn't look rushed or tense. If anything, he looked like he was finally getting to the point.
"It's pretty simple," Kenta said.
Hanko didn't interrupt.
"I'm going to destroy the Haven Syndicate."
The words landed without force. No dramatic pause or emphasis. Just stated plainly. Hanko didn't react right away. So Kenta kept going.
"And to do that," he said, "I've gotta take the head off the beast."
His eyes stayed locked on Hanko's.
"So I came to you."
There was a faint shift in the air. Barely noticeable.
"But you're not the head," Kenta continued. "You're just in the way."
Another second passed.
"I need an audience with your master," he finished. "So here I am."
Silence. Real silence this time. Even the background noise seemed to pull back, like the room itself was holding its breath. Hanko stared at him. No smile. Just stillness.
Then... he chuckled. Soft at first. Then a little louder. Not genuine amusement. Something closer to disbelief at the situation he's in right now.
"Right," Hanko said, exhaling through his nose as he leaned back slightly in his seat again. "Okay."
He ran a hand through one of his braids, shaking his head faintly as if trying to process what he'd just heard.
"Let me get this straight," he said.
His eyes lifted back to Kenta.
"You walk into my place of business and pleasure…" he gestured vaguely around the room, "...drag one of my lieutenants in behind you..."
Hemlock didn't move.
"And then you stand there," Hanko continued, "and tell me you're going to destroy the Syndicate."
He tilted his head slightly.
"And that you want me to help place you in front of my boss."
There was a pause. Then Hanko let out another short laugh.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
Kenta didn't hesitate.
If anything, his grin widened just a fraction.
"Oh," he said, almost like he'd just remembered something. "Right."
He straightened slightly, rolling one shoulder as if loosening it.
"Guess that's on me. I didn't even introduce myself. Where are my manners?"
Hanko's brow twitched faintly. Kenta looked him dead in the eyes.
"My name's Kenta Brooks, and I'm the man who's burning the Haven Syndicate to the ground."