The next day, Uzuki awoke, straightened her attire, and arrived at the Tsukiyuki Group Center, only to find a crowd in mourning dress blocking her path.
Their eyes were bloodshot, the veins on their foreheads bulging. That hysterical, unhinged glare made Uzuki instinctively recoil in fear. She remembered her own mother once possessing a similarly savage look.
“Clan Leader!” A young man in his twenties at the front, barely containing his hatred, stepped forward upon seeing Uzuki. “Last night, my father, Tsukiyuki Kensuke, was attending the banquet when an uninvited guest arrived and turned him into a sieve with a submachine gun!”
Uzuki met the young man’s gaze.
Those dry, parched eyes looked as if they had long since shed all their tears.
Yet now, as he tried once more to calmly recount the events of the previous night, tears began to flow uncontrollably again.
Rage born from hatred…
A little girl who looked barely ten years old was also pale-faced. Her parents had been gunned down at the banquet last night, too.
A happy family of three was shattered in a single night. Afterwards, an aunt from the clan adopted the girl, but in this world, some people are simply irreplaceable.
The girl sobbed, on the verge of a complete emotional breakdown.
Many had lost loved ones because of last night’s incident—siblings, parents, or children. Sighs flowed together into a river of grief.
Then came yet another funeral.
Ever since Grandfather Kyoichi’s death, Uzuki had stumbled from one funeral straight into another.
The people in the black-and-white photos had all believed in Tsukiyuki Kyoichi, believed Uzuki could bring supreme glory to the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu. It was a pity they would now never see the future.
Uzuki recalled the faces and voices of these individuals in life. Some of them had been genuinely good people.
“We must have revenge!”
After offering flowers and leaving the funeral site, a young man suddenly clenched his fist and shouted.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you even know who the killer is?”
“Do you even need to ask?” Faced with his childhood friend’s provocative question, the young man bellowed at the top of his lungs. “The people the assassin killed this time were all on the Clan Leader’s side! Who else but Tsukiyuki Rio—stripped of her position as Clan Heir—would do such a thing? Besides, this isn’t the first time Tsukiyuki Rio has killed her own kin. She’s an old hand at it. I heard from my father in the past that to secure absolute authority within the zaibatsu, Tsukiyuki Rio established extremely draconian rules. A clansman who once embezzled public funds was ordered by her to be encased in concrete and sunk into Tokyo Bay!”
“Little Liang, we all know who the culprit is, but what good does that do? We have no proof. Tsukiyuki Rio wouldn’t possibly leave any behind.” A genial middle-aged man walked over and patted the young man on the shoulder. “I know your father’s death is hard on you, but we absolutely must not act rashly.”
“She’s already killed so many of our clansmen—and we still can’t fight back?” The young man trembled all over, eyes splitting with fury. “In the past, when that crazy woman killed clansmen who broke the rules, I thought it was justified. To protect the family’s interests, parasites must be rooted out. But now she’s killing indiscriminately! Uncle Kensuke, who died, made outstanding contributions to the family. And Uncle Naoki had rendered merit to the family’s bank. Even Patriarch Kyoichi acknowledged them!”
“I can’t accept this…”
The mourning clansfolk walked along the temple path, looking up to see crows cawing above, as if mocking the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu for being led like lambs to the slaughter.
Among the funeral attendees were quite a few of Tsukiyuki Rio’s eyes and ears. Uzuki knew this all too well. Her every move was being watched. Therefore, Uzuki’s only option was silence. She walked slowly, her body trembling involuntarily.
Just yesterday, Rio had invited her to Yu Qingxue’s funeral, all while secretly ordering her subordinates to kill their clansmen.
At this point, Tsukiyuki Rio had to give her an explanation.
“Everyone, our priority is to find evidence. Until we have it, we must not make any rash moves, nor can we lose our reason.”
Upon hearing Uzuki’s words, most of the clansmen showed disappointed expressions.
The pain of losing kin is not something others can fully empathize with.
“However, rest assured, everyone. I will definitely give you an answer. If I fail to satisfy you in this matter, I will resign from the position of Family Head!”
The war had already begun.
If she continued to cling to the illusion of a peaceful resolution, she would surely fail again.
Returning to her office, Uzuki lowered her eyelids, her heart pounding as if it were about to burst from her chest.
She didn’t want Cousin Rio to get hurt or die. But if she didn’t retaliate, she would undoubtedly be the one who ended up dead.
If she failed, Sijin would never escape Cousin Rio’s cage.
“Are you fully prepared?”
Gu Shuhan wore a detached smile, as if none of this concerned him.
“Yes. I must secure Sijin’s happiness.”
A shadow fell across Uzuki’s refined features.
“What do you plan to do?”
“First, I’m going to expel Cousin Rio from the family and seize all her family assets. Then, I’ll use media and public opinion to expose Cousin Rio’s crimes, forcing her to hand over Sijin!”
The Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu had intricate connections with government councilors and even the Prime Minister.
If Cousin Rio refused to hand over Sijin, she would have to resort to force.
“The first step is to make the perpetrator tell the truth…”
Uzuki murmured.
That night, the perpetrator detained in prison maintained his silence. Even when the police used excessive force, he stubbornly refused to reveal a single word.
His face was beaten and swollen, nose bleeding, yet he cackled like a mental patient, feigning madness.
Those deemed mentally ill are typically considered incapable of recognizing or controlling their own actions and thus bear no criminal responsibility.
“Talk! Why did you storm into Hotel Tsubaki Sanso to kill people?”
A clenched fist slammed into the perpetrator’s face with brutal force.
Yet all it earned was another round of loud, derisive laughter. Saliva dripped from his mouth, his pants were wet with a foul-smelling liquid—no matter how you looked at him, he appeared mentally deranged.
“I dunno… when I came to—hehehe… when I came to, they were all dead already, yahahaha~”
He stuck out his tongue at the interrogating officer, laughing with utter contempt.
The result was predictable: an even heavier fist came his way.
Just then, a young police officer brought a large bowl of glistening, fragrant fried pork cutlet rice and placed it on the interrogation table.
The perpetrator lowered his head, staring at the bowl of pork cutlet rice in prolonged silence.
Then, tears fell like rain. One hot tear after another streamed down his face.
“I’ll talk… I’ll confess everything!”
The officer stood up, agitated and excited.
“Oh, you little punk! Finally come to your senses, have you?!”
“You really thought… I’d say something like that, didn’t you? Mister, been watching too many Japanese dramas or what? Gahahaha.”
The perpetrator burst out laughing again. The officer was so enraged that he shoved the perpetrator’s head straight into the bowl of pork cutlet rice, as if trying to drown him.
The interrogation concluded.
No valuable clues were extracted. Beyond designating the perpetrator as mentally ill, there was nothing else.
At 2 a.m., a black cat with golden cat-like pupils appeared beside the iron bars, glaring fixedly at the perpetrator.
Moments later, the prison cell erupted with terrified, wailing cries:
“I’ll tell you everything—I really will this time! Please, no, no, nooooo!!!”
