Tokyo: From Lawless Madpolice to Minister-Chapter 588 - 484: The Smooth Killer, the Cunning Winner in a Narrow Encounter

Chapter 588: Chapter 484: The Smooth Killer, the Cunning Winner in a Narrow Encounter

Tokyo, Shinjuku 1-chome.

Nanfeng Hotel was just a small inn situated beside a major road. It looked somewhat aged, its signboard no longer illuminated, rendering it unremarkable.

The room 308 on the third floor was filled with smoke, and to an outsider, it might seem like the Heavenly Court. The ashtray on the table was overflowing with cigarette butts as two men continued to smoke, sitting on the sofa.

One man was slightly older, seemingly over forty.

The other was younger, probably in his twenties.

"Uncle, what do you say?" The younger man, speaking fluent Chinese, addressed the older man as he extinguished his cigarette and lit another.

The older man, with his dark, weather-beaten skin and face covered in the marks of hardship, looked like an old farmer, but his eyes were sharp. He spoke slowly in a low, husky voice, "Nephew, we still have to do the job. The employer said no final payment if the target isn’t dead. We’ve finally got a big job. If we pull this off, we can go back and live comfortably."

"But, Uncle, that little Japanese guy must be on his guard now after such a scare, it won’t be easy to make a move!" the young man frowned, exhaling a cloud of smoke with worry.

"I don’t see it that way," the older man replied, moistening his chapped lips and sitting up a bit straighter. He spoke seriously, "Listen to my analysis, that Japanese guy, Aoyama Xiu Xin, would never expect us to dare to strike a second time against the odds; hence, a surprise attack might actually stand a higher chance of success."

War is also deception, mainly striking when least expected.

"Uncle, I’ll listen to you, just tell me how we should do it; you surely won’t harm me." The young man flicked off his ash, resigned himself, and smacked his lips, "We’ve killed so many of those guys but none were worth as much as this one. I really don’t want to miss out."

"Alright, then let’s figure out how to finish him off. This guy’s rank would be around a major if it were wartime, right? Who knows, maybe his ancestors caused trouble in our hometown, killing him would be like partaking in the resistance against the Japanese," the older man, looking like an old farmer, spat fiercely.

The young man, being more informed, corrected him, "Uncle, I read in the Japanese papers that this guy is considered a good official."

"To the Japanese, he’s a good official, but we’re not Japanese," the older man responded dismissively, waving his hand and added thoughtfully, "There’s a saying, ’He may be a hero to them, but to me, he’s an enemy.’"

In the early nineties, as the only developed country in Asia, Japan stood out, attracting numerous foreign workers from surrounding countries.

Most were undocumented, and lacking skills, qualifications, or identity, could only take on tough, low-level jobs; even then, they faced oppression from both local and foreign gangs.

This motivated some who refused to settle for an ordinary life to embark on a life of crime, and local powers would often hire killers from among the Koreans or Chinese, who looked similar to the Japanese.

As these workers were just here to make money and had no roots, they would take on any job for the right price. With no identity, they could flee back to their country after the deed, leaving the police with no leads to trace.

This uncle-nephew pair was such a professional killer duo. Before this, they had faced losses in two business ventures back home, felt frustrated with everything, heard that in Japan, one could get rich just by washing dishes, and that everything was better, the moon rounder, and even tap water drinkable. Thus, they idolized it as their unvisited second homeland and entered through a smuggler. Only upon arrival did they realize things were not as expected.

Exploited ruthlessly by their Japanese boss, who knew they were undocumented, they could barely take it when they switched to a Chinese restaurant, only to find their compatriots even more exploitative than the Japanese.

Planning to endure until they received their wages to move elsewhere, they snapped when the boss delayed their payment, ended up slitting his throat in the middle of the night, and then simply switched to being assassins.

After such brutal beatings, they had transformed these two anti-nationalists into staunch patriots, who now loathed Japan, the country they once idealized as their spiritual homeland. They took jobs specifically to kill locals and even occasionally beheaded fellow countrymen, gaining some notoriety in the industry.

Assassinating Aoyama Xiu Xin was the biggest job they had ever taken. The intermediary said the employer promised to pay one million US dollars as a reward, with fifty thousand paid upfront and the rest to be settled in full after the job was done.

That was one million US dollars!

Even if the Heavenly Court’s chief himself appeared, they would have carried out the assassination for the employer.

"Gurgle gurgle~" The young man’s stomach inappropriately growled twice, he touched it and said, "Uncle, how about we eat first, and then discuss further after filling up?"

"All you know is eating. We finally save some money, and all you do is spend it on eating and drinking. If your mother wasn’t my real sister, I wouldn’t bother taking care of you at all," the middle-aged man grumbled as he extinguished his cigarette and stood up.

The young man weakly retorted, "You told my mom you’d take me abroad to pick up money. First, you made me sweep floors for the Japanese, then wash dishes, and now killing people; I’ve never complained about you. Each time I call home, I still have to boast about how well I’m doing over here."

People who moved abroad, no matter how bad their situation, always boast to their relatives and friends about how wonderful life is overseas, and they never return home, because admitting otherwise would make them look foolish, wouldn’t it?

Returning home had to be in glory. Like these two, if they truly killed Aoyama Xiu Xin and returned home with a million in cash, they wouldn’t mention the hardships they endured here, but would boast endlessly about how great it is here, even though they now deeply despised Japan.

Pretending to be a duck that is alive and well, saving their own face.

It’s hard for people to admit they’ve been fools.

"Shut your damn mouth, do you still want to eat or not?"

The young man shrank his head, not daring to retaliate, and seeing his uncle heading outside, he quickly stood up and followed.

.........

Meanwhile, at the same time, Nakamura Shinichi walked into the lobby of the Nanfeng Hotel, he raised his hand and knocked on the counter. As the receptionist looked up, he casually took out his ID, "Police. I need to ask you something." frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

This hotel was originally not large, and Datang couldn’t be much bigger. The reception desk was right by the entrance.

"Hi! Please ask, I will definitely cooperate!" The receptionist, who was the owner herself, bowed repeatedly in an ingratiating manner.

Nakamura Shinichi put away his ID, glanced around, and then asked, "Did two men wearing trench coats check in last night? Which room are they in, are they still staying here?"

"Hi! Yes, it was very late, these two guests left a strong impression on me, they stayed... oh, they just arrived," the owner had barely finished speaking when she pointed to the staircase behind Nakamura Shinichi and smiled at the two men coming down the stairs, "Guests, this police officer is looking for you, he might have something important."

The two men instantly froze on the steps.

As the owner pointed backward, Nakamura Shinichi had already turned his head; hearing her identify him, he couldn’t help but curse inwardly.

Their six eyes met, the air was terrifyingly silent.

Confirming the gaze, there were two bad guys.

The uncle and nephew had their eyes fixed on Nakamura Shinichi, but their hands were subtly moving toward their waists.

In a narrow alley, the brave prevail!

But in the next second, Nakamura Shinichi took to his heels. The reception desk was close to the exit, and he darted out in an instant.

The uncle and nephew on the stairs hesitated for a moment; as Nakamura Shinichi moved, they subconsciously started to draw their guns but then relaxed their hands. The uncle said, "We’ve been exposed. Let’s go."

As soon as he finished speaking, they hurridly ran outside. They didn’t know which case had been exposed, but the policeman’s reaction was off. He hadn’t fired, indicating fear of death and the absence of other police outside, making it the best time for the uncle and nephew to flee.

The fleeing police officer would surely call for backup to rush to this location. With police stations and patrol officers scattered all over Tokyo, it would be too late if they didn’t run now.

The nephew followed his uncle out of the hotel.

The landlady was completely baffled.

"Bang bang bang bang bang!"

No sooner had the two men stepped out than the gunfire started.

Nakamura Shinichi ran because he saw their hands preparing to reach for their guns. In a simultaneous draw, he wouldn’t have the upper hand being outnumbered two to one. Since the reception desk was close to the exit, he chose to save his life first.

After running out, he took cover behind a telegraph pole on the side of the street, ambushing the uncle and nephew who would surely hurry to escape after being startled.

Caught off guard, the uncle, who was leading the way out, was shot multiple times and fell to the ground with a thud; his pistol flung away.

The nephew behind him was shot in the leg, fell down, and seeing his uncle bloodied and on the ground, he was both shocked and enraged. He reached to draw his pistol but was precisely shot in the wrist by Nakamura Shinichi from only three or four meters away, causing the gun to fly from his hand.

In just a few seconds, the gunfire ended—though it could hardly be called an exchange since the two criminals didn’t get a chance to fire.

Amidst the screams of passersby, Nakamura Shinichi cautiously approached with his gun and kicked their firearms away, then turned to the stunned landlady inside the hotel and shouted, "Quick, call the police for me, and an ambulance!"

"Ah! Ohhhhhh!" The landlady was momentarily stunned before shakingly dialing the number.

The nearby police arrived quickly, followed by an ambulance, but the uncle had already bled to death. Only the nephew was taken to the hospital for treatment.

To prevent his escape, Nakamura Shinichi showed his credentials and arranged for two officers to monitor him at the hospital.

He then searched the room of the two men.

They found only a briefcase in the room, containing bullets, cigarettes, and over 40,000 US dollars, along with photos of the vehicle Aoyama Xiu Xin had used after returning to Tokyo.

"Phew—"

Nakamura Shinichi sighed in relief. He had found the right ones.

Indeed, the gunmen were these two.

He had taken a risk by ambushing and firing.

Though his experience had led him to deduce they were up to no good and armed, mistakenly killing innocent people could have been disastrous.

However, driven by the urgency to capture the assassin targeting Aoyama Xiu Xin, he decided to take the risk.

Luckily, he had gambled correctly and won big.

Nakamura Shinichi phoned Aoyama Xiu Xin. Once connected, he said, "Senior Police Director, I’ve found the two gunmen who shot at you. One is dead, and the other has been taken to the hospital for treatment."

"What?" Aoyama Xiu Xin, on the other end, who had been connecting with the head of the Korean Civil Group, Tangong Huizi, was utterly surprised and sat upright in disbelief, "Are you sure you’re not mistaken?"

"Absolutely not! I found a photo of you and the vehicle you’ve been using these days in their bag," Nakamura Shinichi declared firmly.

"Good! Good! Good job, Mr. Nakamura!" Aoyama Xiu Xin, overjoyed, began dressing without further concern for Tangong Huizi, "Which hospital? I’m coming now."

He had not anticipated such rapid progress on the matter. Luckily, Nakamura Shinichi hadn’t been too dejected by emotional setbacks; otherwise, he would have lost a valuable asset.

Nakamura Shinichi gave the name of a hospital.

Aoyama Xiu Xin hung up the phone and began putting on his trousers.

During his days back in Tokyo, he mainly focused on maintaining relationships; men were given money for their benefits, and women... his wallet and his brother had both suffered.

"Mr. Aoyama is leaving just like that?" Tangong Huizi, half-dressed, lay sideways on the bed, her eyes filled with resentment.

Aoyama Xiu Xin turned and said, "Ms. Tangong, you’re a chairman now. You can’t expect everything from others; some core techniques need to be mastered personally to avoid being choked. Don’t you agree?"

Tangong Huizi gave him the middle finger.

"Not enough. You probably need three," Aoyama Xiu Xin said with a smile, shaking his head as he turned to leave.

Tangong Huizi threw a pillow at him.

"Shit! Annoying guy. Before, two fingers were enough; it’s all your fault for broadening my horizons!"

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