Oroshi was pacing in front of the mirror. Kaori had not made it back to the hotel. That was good, but contrary to his expectations, his men could not find any trace of her, and that was… not good. In fact, it had already been over an hour since his “discussion” with his father and he had not found anything new.

  It would have been too much to ask of his men to find and dispose of Kaori already, but still, some results had been expected. Instead, he had nothing. No hint of the mysterious stranger who saved Kaori, not a single clue was left on the ground, no fingerprints, nothing at all. The fall had crushed a flower bed and shaken a few bushes, and that was it.

  A blurry picture from the camera at the gate showed the shape of a husky man from behind. He did look like a foreigner, but he moved under the shadows of the trees and a large backpack mangled his silhouette. He was essentially unrecognizable and left virtually no traces, besides the imprint of a backpack on the ground and a partial footprint.

  A ten-yard fall on the stones should have been fatal, or at least crippling, not just for Kaori, but also for the man catching her. And yet, some random man walking under the window in the middle of the night caught Kaori, carried her to her car and drove off with it. Just like that, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  And it had to be natural. It was impossible to time this rescue more perfectly. No one could have expected Kaori would jump out of that window when she did, let alone catching her and running away. Oroshi was an expert in manipulating situations and he knew this could not have been arranged in advance. But if it was natural, what were the odds a stranger capable of such a feat of strength would be there in the middle of the night at the exact moment… He was deep into lottery odds, as in, winning-three-times-in-a-row type of odds.

  Was it fate? Karma? Oroshi didn’t believe in that nonsense, but what else could it be?

  Focus, Oroshi thought. He slapped himself in the face a few times, sharp strikes that stung and drew blood to his skin, now suffused with redness, and pulled on his collar, ripping a couple buttons from his shirt, leaving part of his chest bare, glistening with sweat. His fine white shirt had small traces of blood. Nothing beat a white shirt when it came to showing off blood. He inspected the effect in the mirror with a critical eye. Not bad, but something was missing. He punched himself in the eye, hard, then in the mouth. It would swell up a bit within the next few minutes. Unpleasant, but it had to be done. The best way to look like you have taken hits was to take hits. The police would arrive any minute now, and he still didn’t know enough to feel confident about his “eye witness” story, but at least he had to look the part.

  Convincing his father to let him spin that narrative had not been easy, and his neck had been on the line, but at least, their interests were aligned. The story he had to tell now would be scrutinized by the police, the whole nation, and most importantly, Kaori’s father. It had to be perfect; everything hinged on the next few minutes, and he couldn’t delay his reporting any longer. He sent a hotel bellboy to fetch Daisuke. With any luck, he would only have to tell his story once: a single briefing with everyone present. Later on, he could play the distraught fiancé and decline all comments. Now however…

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  Oroshi watched as the conference room filled up with police and security personnel, as well as a few men in dark suits. A sleep-tousled Daisuke stepped into the room, his eyes still adjusting to the light. His apartments were soundproof and he hadn’t been told anything yet. Needless to say, he wasn’t in the greatest of moods.

  Oroshi stepped out in front of them. His face was the very picture of rage and righteous indignation, but he controlled himself and bowed deeply. He stood up and addressed the audience.

  “Mina-sama” he said with a solemn voice, “thank you for answering my call in the middle of the night. I will be short. You are here because Mashiro Kaori was kidnapped less than an hour ago.” Oroshi paused to allow his statement to sink in. The audience let out a collective gasp, and he resumed, not giving anyone time to ask questions: “Kaori was exiting my chambers when a large man lurched forward and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her through the corridor. I jumped on him and tried to grapple him to the ground, but he shook me off and punched me in the face. I ran back in my room to grab my gun and raced after him, firing it in the hope he would let go and escape alone, but he probably realized I couldn’t risk hitting Kaori and he managed to escape through the window. I raced downstairs and searched the ground. There was no sign of the man or of Kaori. Seeing that I had almost no chance to find them, I came back here and called you all. Please help me find my wife.” Oroshi bowed low and remained bowed.

  “Where is the footage of the hotel’s CCTV?” Daisuke asked.

  A portly man dressed in an hotel uniform answered: “The security guard in the control room was found dead, stabbed in the neck with a knife. The whole CCTV equipment has been destroyed. I checked for the online back up, but there was nothing there. We have nothing, sir. I’ve sent the night staff to patrol the surroundings and see if there are any other CCTV cameras that might get us footage, and I have called ALSOK—he nodded to a dozen men from the famous security company. This is all we know so far.”

  Daisuke opened his mouth to ask another question, but the police chief interrupted with a booming voice: “Men! There is no time to waste and we are losing precious minutes. I want all of your squads to start patrolling the entire town. This will not stand!”

  The room exploded into a flurry of motion. Most of the men were either screaming on the phone or rushing out. In the middle of the room sat an exhausted Oroshi. He was holding his head in his hands, the very picture of the distressed fiancé. He looked pitiful with his torn, bloody shirt. Daisuke, alone in the storm of activity, scanned the room and spotted the young man. A kindred spirit, the young man looked precisely like he felt. He stepped toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “We will find her.” he said, his voice smoldering with rage and determination. “You have my word!”