"It's more details about the bullet wounds. The report says Camlin was shot at point blank range with a variant of 9mm Parabellum rounds,” Atreus furrows his brow and leans back. “Parabellum rounds...” he utters to himself, obviously racking his brain.

“Isn't that one of the most widely-used types of ammo in the whole damn world?” Devin asks, nearly as perplexed as his friend. “Doesn't sound all that substantial.”

Atreus nods, “It is, which is why it'd be difficult to really narrow this down, but I've rarely fired guns before. One thing is weird though: the report says the bullet fragmented a lot and did a ton of damage to surrounding organs with tiny shards. I don't think that sounds like a normal cartridge, but I'm a bit out of my element on this.”

“Same here. I only know the most basic shit, really. What do you want to do?”

“I guess the first thing we should do is figure out what type of guns the clan itself has. I know the Sanada-gumi does its own fair share of gun trafficking, which is putting it lightly, but I don't know the specifics of what we ship out.”

Devin leans back with a small sigh, “Well, the Oyamada family is the one in charge of gunrunning here. Do you want to go pay them a visit?”

“Yeah,” Atreus answers with a nod. “Let's head to the harbor,” he shuts his phone's screen off, folds it, and stuffs the remainder of his last donut into his mouth, using the last of his water to wash it down.

“What, right now?”

“Of course right now. We're still trying to solve this before the police do. We're ahead of them by a bit because we have the autopsy report before Dr. Hess even sent it to them, but that doesn't mean we should sit around and waste the day–” Atticus stops talking as something catches his eye. He turns to the television mounted on the wall behind Devin, next to the short hallway leading to the restrooms.

The image that draws his attention is that of a body covered in a white sheet being taken away by medical services, and a crime scene perimeter having been established in what appears to be a forest; a massive redwood tree is seen within the frame. The ticker at the bottom of the screen reads 'MISSING ZEPHIR EMPLOYEE FOUND DEAD'.

“Hey, oji-san,” Atreus calls out.

“Yeah?” the stocky donut craftsman turns around from behind the counter.

“Can you toss me the TV remote?”

“Sure,” Takahashi reaches into a shelf below the countertop and retrieves the thin, touchscreen remote control television remote, and gives it to Atreus with an underhand toss. The gangster catches it with ease, and immediately rewinds the report on TV to where it first begins, and increases the volume to hear the report. A dark-haired anchorwoman in a blue dress steels her expression as she leads into the story.

“Mere hours ago, the San Francisco Police Department received a call about a body being found within the forest just north of the San Francisco Bay Area, mostly buried in the dirt. When officers arrived, they discovered that the identity of the deceased is 28-year-old Isaac Noah, a San Francisco native and Zephir Industries employee who had been reported as missing nearly two weeks ago. The cause of death seems to be multiple gunshot wounds, but an autopsy is yet to be performed. Other circumstances leading to his death are unknown, but we will report on them as more details are uncovered.”

“Tough break,” Devin remarks as watches the report end. “Why'd you wanna see that? Did it remind you of something?”

“I'm not sure,” Atreus replies with clear ambivalence, his eyes narrowed in deep reflection of the murder he just saw on the television. “Just strikes me as odd, is all – the timing of it, and the fact that guy is a Zephir employee.”

Zephir Industries is a massive pharmaceuticals corporation that develops many widely-used medications, both prescribed and over-the-counter. However, their largest source of income is Aperibrum, the immunosuppressive drug that allows for an augmented patient's nervous system to accept their synthetic body parts. Because of this, Zephir maintains a professional connection to Atmos Dynamics due to the latter's presence in the cybernetics industry.

“My brain's probably just looking for connections that might not be there,” Atreus concedes. “Anyway, let's get outta here. We need to head down to the harbor and see the Oyamada family.”

The two men stand and begin to clean off their table of their napkins, bags, and crumbs courteously, just as they've been taught to by the owner back when they were young, and make their way towards the exit.

“See you around, oji-san,” Atreus gives a hasty goodbye as they make their way out.

“Later, boys!” Takahashi responds before the door closes behind them.

Out in Kyoba's bustling afternoon streets, the gangsters take another Automa taxi out west towards the ocean, where the Port of Long Beach awaits them – the location of the Oyamada family's gunrunning business, where they ship firearms of all shapes, sizes, and caliber to overseas recipients. The massive port had seen a number of expansions in recent years, reaching a gargantuan size of over five thousand acres made up of over one hundred and twenty berths and thirteen piers.

After a lengthy drive, they finally reach the port, taking the path towards the southern-most pier that's farthest from the coastline, away from the prying eyes of tourists and civilians, and cluelessness of curious port employees. Forklifts carrying crates of varying shapes and sizes buzz around from warehouse to warehouse, and uniformed dock workers carry on without paying any mind to the visiting cab, until they reach a closed iron gate of thick, parallel iron bars coming from both sides, guarded by tall, broad-shouldered port security guard who steps in front of the vehicle to stop it. Atreus rolls his window down to talk to the man.

“Are you expected?” the intimidating, brawny man asks with a low, overpowering voice and stare sharp enough to cut glass.

“No,” Atreus answers honestly, but with an accompanying strong glare of his own. “But it's somewhat urgent.”

The guard glances down at Atreus's chest, where he notices the Sanada-gumi pin on his vest lapel, and down further to see his man-made limbs.

“Alright,” the wide-bodied man utters as he straightens his posture and walks to the concrete wall to the left of the gate, where a keypad is mounted. He hits several numbers, and suddenly the horizontal bars of the gate retract to the left and right, clearing to path to the rest of the pier.

The two Asano men continue their taxi ride, and it drives up to a specific warehouse with a giant blue door at the very end of the pier. They exit the vehicle, which stays parked in order to wait for their return, and look around at the collection of port workers moving heavy, densely-filled crates presumably filled with a variety of weapons into shipping containers, ready to be hauled overseas to the highest bidders. They walk into the warehouse proper to see more employees taking weapons from delivery trucks that brought them to the pier, and placing them into said crates and covering them with a multitude of different common export items to make the crates look inconspicuous.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

All of the employees are so engrossed with their work, that they pay no attention to the two visitors. Atreus soon spots a single man in a black vest over a dark crimson dress shirt standing attentively with a tablet cradled in his arm. His name is Daisuke Young, and he's a lieutenant of the Abe family, which is the largest subsidiary of the gigantic Oyamada family. He has long hair tied back in a ponytail, and a neatly trimmed goatee. His upright and stiff posture exudes a sense of strong professionalism and punctuality. The man turns around in time to see Atreus and Devin approach him.

“Well, if it isn't Ryuji's boys,” Daisuke speaks in a voice as smooth as silk. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I assume you've heard of the murder that happened last night near the Hoshino family's place, right?” Atreus asks in a slightly hushed voice to ensure none of the nearby workers overhear the conversation.

Daisuke nods, “I have. But what exactly does that have to do with two Asano family members being here?”

“It's a bit of a long story, honestly. Do you mind if I ask you some questions about your cargo? Preferably in a quieter place?” he looks around, distracted by the constant noise of running machinery, talking employees, and wooden crates being both pried open and sealed shut.

“Sure. I have some time. Follow me up to my office,” Daisuke cordially beckons them to follow him, leading them up a staircase along the interior wall of the warehouse towards the offices that overlook the ground floor below. They enter the first room they see, which houses a single desk with a computer, two tall filing cabinets, and two extra chairs. There's little in the way of decorations.

“Take a seat,” Daisuke says as he sits at his desk, offering them the two other chairs on the opposite side. “So, what brings you by? I assume it's not a social visit.”

“It's not, unfortunately,” Atreus responds as he and Devin comply with the invitation to take a load off. “I'll be honest with you; Advisor Okada has given me the job of finding out who committed the murder near the Hoshino family office.”

Daisuke heaves a sigh, “I'm not surprised. Considering the location of the murder and who the victim was, I can't imagine it was a clan-sanctioned hit. So you're telling me your investigation has led you to my warehouse somehow?”

“Not necessarily. What we've discovered so far doesn't really point any fingers towards you or any of your men, but we do have some questions about your business that might help us narrow our search down.”

“Okay,” Daisuke acknowledges with a confident nod. “Ask whatever you need to.”

“Do you sell any merchandise that fires 9mm Parabellum rounds?”

“Parabellum? Well, yeah, that's been one of the most commonly used cartridges for decades now. That's like asking if a grocery store sells apples. Do you think you can be more specific? What type of variant are we talking about here?”

“The autopsy report we got our hands on doesn't say what kind of variant it is, unfortunately,” Atreus admits with a subtle wince at the fact he might've hit a dead end.

“You have an autopsy report?” Daisuke suddenly perks up. “Do you have it with you? I think I can parse something from it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Atreus pulls out his phone to bring up the scanned copy of the report and hands it to Daisuke.

“All I need to do is find out what the bullet did to the victim's body and I could determine what type of variant of the cartridge was used. With the 9mm Parabellum being such a popular caliber, you can imagine how many offshoots of it have spawned over the years,” the gunrunner leans over the phone and carves into the pages of the report with a seemingly insatiable sense of curiosity.

Atreus and Devin wait for Daisuke to find and comment on any outstanding details, quietly hopeful that he will be struck by a realization that can help them with the investigation. The silent, pronounced moment of the arms trafficker's search draws out longer and longer, until suddenly he sits up again while making a content nod.

“Alright,” Daisuke speaks up after about a solid two to three minutes of pensive reading. “According to the details of this autopsy, Will Camlin was struck by a rather light bullet traveling at higher than normal velocity. It mentions a large amount of tiny shards being found immediately after each entry wound, some being stopped by bone, but others significantly damaging surrounding organs in the shots to his chest.”

“So does this all sound like the damage caused by a variant you know about?” Atreus asks.

“It does,” Daisuke matter-of-factly declares as he pushes Atreus's phone back to him. “I strongly believe this murder was done by the German VF+ variant. It's designed with very high pressure loadings to launch a lighter-than-average bullet at just over two thousand feet per second. The bullet itself is also made to fragment as soon as possible across a very wide arc upon piercing something, which means massive damage to as many surrounding organs as it can reach.”

“Do you have any comments on the nature of the murder if it was really was a VF+ cartridge that was used?”

“Well, frankly, I think shooting a civilian with such a round twice in the chest and one in the head is pretty overkill in and of itself. The entry wound could be up to four inches away from Camlin's heart, but the fragmentation spread is so immediate and wide, it'd likely still catch it and kill him. So, basically, whoever killed him must've really, really wanted him dead.”

“Sounds like our boy must've been into some shit,” Devin thinks aloud.

“Do you have any of these VF+ rounds?” Atreus asks, adamant on gaining more info.

Daisuke narrows his eyes slightly and puts on a slight scowl, “Not at the moment, but it's a bit complicated. That stuff only comes through here in very little quantity, and very rarely. Non-standard ammunition like that is extremely illegal in California, so in order to us to get our hands on it, we have to smuggle it in first before we can traffic it out. We keep our hands off stuff like that when we can help it because it could actually get us into much more trouble than our usual merchandise.”

“Could any of your stock of it have been sold locally recently?”

“Not a chance,” the gunrunner gives a strong, absolute answer. “Last time VF+ rounds were in this warehouse was about four months ago. Plus, those rounds go for an arm and leg, so only me and a few of my most loyal men handle them, and I always give them one last recount just before we ship them off. Not to mention the fact that we don't even sell locally; we only export overseas. And if any of my boys were to try and take any of our contraband for themselves, then I'd be inclined to take more than just a pinky when I catch them.”

“Sounds like you run a tight ship around here,” Atreus comments honestly.

“Well, we have to. The Oyamada family's arms trafficking brings in up to fifty million dollars of revenue to the Sanada-gumi per year, both here and in Japan. We don't get those kinds of numbers by being sloppy and disorganized.”

“Do you know how a person could get their hands on VF+ rounds in this city?”

Daisuke leans backs and heaves a small sigh, “I have an idea.” He pauses momentarily, hesitant to continue and engaging in short, internal argument with himself, “But before I tell you, I just want you to know that I'm not suggesting that this party was involved with the murder, and I'm saying this because it would be bad if you pursued this route assuming that they were.”

“Who is it?” Atreus leans forward slightly with clear interest.

Daisuke pauses again, clenching his jaw briefly to brace himself for a potentially sour response, “Blue Star. They have several, very low-key vendors around Jeonju that specialize in hard-to-find ammo like this.”

“You've gotta be be fucking kidding,” Atreus complains, immediately becoming annoyed and weary.

“Like I said, I'm not suggesting they had any direct hand in this murder,” Daisuke repeats his earlier words, lifting his hands to calm Atreus down. “As you know, a seller isn't responsible for how a customer uses his merchandise after a purchase. Once money changes hands, the bullets belong to the buyer now."