At 6 PM sharp, the club's doors finally open, and early patrons who had spent some minutes eagerly waiting outside finally begin to bustle in. The booths in the first floor fill up with a rapid pace, as many men – and even some women – scramble inside to relieve their Monday evening stresses. Along with the beginning of a new week, a different band – one of several contracted with Crown to perform in a cycle – has taken the stage for the night, playing loud, energetic jazz fusion tunes, along with danceable progressive rock.
Thankfully, for the sake of his mental health, Atreus's shift was no longer set for the VIP section tonight. Instead, his post was near the dance floor, where he could catch an eyeful of patrons and hostesses on the first floor swing their bodies to the band's music and gleefully interact with one another in the many booths facing the stage. It was a much more relaxed and welcoming atmosphere compared to the palpable sleaze wafting through the second floor by narcissistic VIPs.
For the first few hours of his night at Crown, Atreus stayed stone still in his post, silently watching the many faces of different customers come and go, with the wide roster of hostesses being traded between them. Every once in a while, his eyes would be drawn to Max, who, as usual, would be giving her company to either men old enough to be her father or men who seem like they had just turned old enough to even be allowed inside the establishment. There wasn't much middle ground to be seen. However, her effortless charisma and beauty made her a popular choice for visitors in those demographics. Despite having her impressive college degree in robotic engineering and being between jobs related to it, one could almost swear that she had been hostessing for years now.
Atreus feels a sudden sensation against his thigh. Nothing is touching it, but he feels a strong itching sensation through the fabric. He realizes that it's the feeling of a ringing phone's vibration. He keeps his ringtone off during work hours, but even if it were on, it wouldn't have been very noticeable at the moment due to his closeness to the stage. He then recalls a second crucial detail: his own phone is kept in his right pocket, but Takiyama's is kept in his left, which is the source of the vibrating. It dawns on him that the so-called 'witness' is finally calling, and he shoves his hand into his pocket with such force and immediacy, one would think it held the meaning of life.
He pulls out the phone with a lackluster attempt at being subtle, clearly showing little care about the fact he's on the clock. With the device clutched in his hand, he makes his way past the stage and into the employees-only area behind it. The noise of the band and inebriated patrons and hostesses drown away behind him, and he slides his thumb across the screen to accept the call.
“Hello?” Atreus greets with a hint of thinly-disguised desperation.
“It's me,” the familiar, nameless voice on the other end responds. “I have a time and place ready for you.”
“This is still happening tonight, right?” the gangster asks, making his way to the empty break room, where he'll be out of view and ear shot from any staff member who may need to pass by.
“Yes,” the caller sternly answers. “We'll meet in front of Kawada Tower at 1 AM. I'll allow you a grace period of ten minutes after that in case traffic is bad, but if you don't show up by then, I'm gone and you won't ever hear from me again.”
Kawada Tower is the tallest skyscraper in Kyoba, standing at thirty floors, placed near the exact center of the district, surrounded by the busiest business and entertainment establishments – gambling halls, game centers, clubs, twenty-four-hour convenience stores and fast food joints, and more. The streets around the building are always seeing constant foot and vehicle traffic, regardless of the time of day or year. The fact that they're meeting at 1 AM has little impact on how many people will be around. In fact, it's arguable that there are more people surrounding Kawada Tower at 1 AM than at 1 PM.
“Kawada Tower at 1 AM. Got it,” Atreus echoes the location to commit it to memory. “Anything else I should know?”
“I'll be sitting on one of the benches surrounding the fountain. I'll be in a red and white striped hoodie. Got that?”
“Benches surrounding the fountain, red and white hoodie. Yeah.”
“Good. I'll see you then,” the unknown person ends the call before Atreus can consider anything else to ask.
With the short conversation complete and a time and place set for their meeting, Atreus begins to ruminate on the meaning and possible risks of it. He feels confident that the witness isn't the killer himself, or else the location wouldn't be one the busiest public spots in late-night Kyoba, not just from the perspective of human presence, but because of how many security cameras might be aiming at the entrance of the tower. However, that still doesn't guarantee he won't be fed false information that may lead to a different sort of trap or setup. While he feels that this investigation is finally making steps towards some sort of resolution, the would-be detective can't help but dwell on how many things can still go wrong.
Before he wastes anymore time meditating on the upcoming meetup, he returns to his post near the stage. He continues to stand watch over his section of the first floor, listening to the band's enthralling music or, when they're taking a break, to the overeager yet endearing conversations held between hostess and patron. Unlike the rich, vapid VIPs who gloat about their accomplishments to whoever is willing to listen, the everyman customers instead spend their time discussing their days or venting about their jobs. They're white collar voices who often go unheard within their own professional environments, and coming here to be treated like a normal human being with thoughts and feelings is an experience that they look forward to.
At 10:30 PM, Atreus escapes to the security staff locker room to begin preparing for his meeting with Okada. He switches back to his normal, everyday attire as a member of the Sanada-gumi, and leaves the club through the building's rear exit. He summons a ride as he approaches the nearby sidewalk, which arrives with punctuality to take him to clan headquarters.
[I'm on my way to HQ,] Atreus announces his approach via text to his superior.
[Alright, I'm in my office now, so come straight up when you arrive. I'll have some tea prepared,] Okada gives an immediate response, once again making tea in what is probably an expectation of a lengthy discussion regarding new information about the investigation.
During the contemplative ride, as the driverless taxi weaves through traffic or idles at the occasional complete stop, Atreus considers all of the information he'll have to relay to his superior, including the fact that despite a successful meeting with Kyang-chul Song, the lead that was found thanks to it was closed off before any follow-up was even made possible.
Just as the clock hits 11 PM, Atreus arrives at Sanada-gumi headquarters, and takes the usual, straight route up to Okada's office by crossing through the lobby – where several members of different families are either engaging in casual chatter or dutifully guarding the premises – and past Justin and his usual rigid greetings, and into the elevator. He emerges at the fourth floor and navigates through the wide, high-roofed halls to his destination, guarded by another beefy, thick-necked member of the clan, who moves out of the way after knocking on the double doors to announce the visitor's arrival. The slate-colored entrance opens and reveals Rachel, standing stiffly and giving her usual friendly, but still eerily imperfect smile.
“Welcome, Atreus,” she greets him while standing aside to allow him passage. “We've been expecting you.”
Atreus walks in and quickly notices Okada, already sitting in the leather chair near the center of the room, clearly prepared for conversation. A pot of hot tea and an empty mug are sitting on the coffee table before him, beckoning the augmented man to sit and indulge.
“Have a seat, Watanabe-kun,” Okada waves his subordinate over while preemptively filling his mug with the steamy beverage and sliding it towards him, already resting on a coaster.
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“Thank you, oyaji,” Atreus says as he sits in the adjoining sofa and leans forward to grasp the mug, showing less-than-expected eagerness, as he already had some earlier at Crown, but he can't bring himself to deny any courteous gestures from the senior advisor of the clan.
“So, you must've learned quite a lot since we last met; at least, I hope you were able to,” the elder man opens with a question that shows high prospects right off the bat. “I at least received notification from Lee that your meeting with Song went smoother than anticipated.”
“...It did,” Atreus answers reluctantly, delaying the inevitable bad news he'll have to deliver soon anyway. He punctuates his hesitance with a meager sip of his tea.
“What's wrong?” Okada narrows his eyes. The telltale light in his right iris illuminates and swirls around the pupil. “Your heart rate went up. Did it not go that well, after all?”
“The meeting itself went fine, yes, but...” the younger man begins his explanation, but stops short of trailing off into an incomprehensible tangent. He takes a deep breath to collect himself and rewind the discussion. “I was able to find out that the man whom we think is the killer obtained his VF+ cartridges from a vendor named Man-sik Han. It turns out that they find new customers by using a referral system, and first-time customers must be escorted in by a previous customer or a member of Blue Star.”
“So, the killer had to have been introduced by someone?” Okada deduces the importance of these details himself.
Atreus nods. “Yes. It was a young man named Marvin Choi.”
“Were you or any of the men you spoke to at the meeting able to contact him?”
“No, we weren't, until this morning,” the reluctant detective takes another deep breath, feeling his superior's gaze searing a hole into his face. “Mr. Lee and Mr. Han found him dead in his apartment this morning.”
“What?” the advisor gives a subdued exclamation. “He's been killed already? When?”
“From the condition of his body, he had probably been dead a few days by then.”
“You saw the body yourself? You went to Jeonju to identify a corpse?” Okada gives a wide-eyed, gobsmacked expression.
“Yes,” Atreus meekly nods. “Lee and Han were also there.”
“Jesus, Atreus.” Okada leans back in his chair with an exasperated sigh and rub of his forehead. He even drops formalities and refers to the younger man by his first name. “You, a Sanada-gumi member, went to Jeonju, which is Blue Star territory, to confirm the death of a Blue Star member at the scene of the crime? Did you not realize how sketchy such a thing would look? Did you not think ahead?”
“...No, oyaji,” Atreus guiltily accepts his reprimanding, as he truly didn't consider how bad the situation may look from the perspective of the wrong person. The news of Choi's death caused him to act rashly.
“It would have been so easy to put you into a bad predicament. If Lee was there, then, granted, it was likely safe, but please don't rush into something like that again. Show some restraint and consider your surroundings before heading into Jeonju for such a reason – any reason, in fact.”
“Yes, oyaji,” the shamed subordinate hangs his head apologetically. It's true that it would've been extremely easy for a person with a chip on their shoulder to paint any picture they wanted if Atreus were caught there.
“So, back to the matter at hand; with this Marvin Choi person dead, that means the one lead you got from the meeting with Song is effectively gone?”
“It is.”
“And if he's been dead for a few days, then he was killed before we even set the meeting up in the first place. This bastard knows how to tie up his loose ends.” Okada clicks his tongue, becoming annoyed at how much more of a nuisance the killer is turning out to be. “Is there any other trail that could possibly stem from the Blue Star angle? Was Choi truly the only person you could talk to? Did Han even describe the man?”
“Han tried to, but apparently the guy is so plain looking, he could very well be any reasonably fit Asian man between twenty-five and forty – slim, short black hair, brown eyes, square jaw, no scars, tattoos, or any other identifying marks. He was wearing black clothes from head to toe, too.”
“A man so visually ordinary, it's hard to even describe him. What a pain in the ass,” the elder man shakes his head. “We're surrounded by technology more than ever, and we can't even pin down one man. I sincerely hope this is the only bad news you've come to me with.”
“Well, I wouldn't say all the other information I've gathered is 'good news' so much as it is just... new,” Atreus tries to reassure his superior but also temper his expectations. “But yes, that was the worst of it.”
“So, you were able to get something potentially useful from Stephanie?”
“I'm not sure yet if 'useful' is the right word, but she enlightened me on a possible motive for Camlin's killing.”
“How so?” Okada leans forward with interest.
“Camlin's position as the head of network security was a very important one. He was such a skilled programmer, that he was practically the sole reason why Atmos's network is so tightly protected. He apparently had an unparalleled ability to sniff out holes and stitch them up at neck-breaking speeds.”
“So his murder might be a means to access whatever Atmos has on their servers. But, what do they have on them other than customers' health information?”
Atreus shrugs. “That's what I've been wondering too. If Atmos isn't hiding anything, then whoever ordered Camlin's hit might simply want the health data on millions of prosthetic owners. And I have no idea what sort of person – or people – might go through so much trouble for such a thing. Everyone I've asked feels the same way, including Mr. Lee.”
“That is puzzling,” the senior advisor remarks as he leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin with narrowed eyes. “Maybe...” he utters softly, but shakes his head to dismiss whatever sentence he was going to say. “Did Stephanie tell you anything else? About Camlin himself? His personality? Lifestyle?”
“The only thing that stood out to me was that apparently he began spacing out and looking preoccupied at work starting a couple weeks before he was killed, which was extremely out-of-character at the time, because he always had good work ethic. Then, he stopped coming to work entirely three days before he was killed, which was also strange, because he had never taken a sick day or vacation at all until then.”
“So, he knew something was wrong, then. Perhaps he suspected his demise was coming, which means his hit wasn't a surprise to him when it happened. Sounds like he was involved in something he shouldn't have gotten involved in.”
“Yeah. If he was aware someone was after him, then he would've likely known who ordered his hit and why. He was definitely caught up in something, whether it be purposeful or on accident.”
“If I had to wager a guess, he might've been aware of who wanted Atmos's data and what they wanted to do with it.” Okada rubs his own cheek as he stares thoughtfully ahead at nothing in particular. “Unfortunately, we obviously can't ask him about it, and it's the one thing that's stumping us. It's starting to seem as if the only way to find out the 'who' and 'why' is to find the killer himself and ask him.”
“Actually, I think I may have another way,” Atreus announces with a hopeful expression. “The phone I told you about – Takiyama's – we cracked it open.”
“What was in it?” Okada sits forward, expecting something substantial.
“There was just one phone number, which I called. It belongs to someone who claimed to be a witness to the murder.”
“A witness?” the advisor echoes, surprised to even hear the word. “Seriously? This person saw the murder? Can you trust them?”
Atreus shakes his head. “I'm not sure yet, that's why I asked to meet them in person.”
“When? Where?”
“Tonight at 1 AM, in front of Kawada Tower. I had a hunch it may be some sort of trap, because for all I know, this person could be the killer himself, trying to tie up another loose end, but Kawada Tower is one of the busiest spots in Kyoba, even this late at night, so I figure it may be alright.”
“Even so, make sure you be careful. I'm as eager to solve this as you are, but with a second body only just now being found, the killer clearly knows how to cover his back. Remember to not give any details – specifically about the Sanada-gumi – you don't need to give until you can say, beyond a shadow of doubt, that this person is trustworthy. If they make any sort of claim, make sure it's quickly verifiable. Remember, you're not there to do them any favors, so don't let them jerk your chain. If they're stubborn, find a way to take the information from them.”
Okada puts emphasis on the final sentence, firmly suggesting that violence isn't – nor shouldn't – be out of the question, but only as a last resort. While the Sanada-gumi needs this mystery solved, they aren't the police, and thus, Atreus is, from Okada's point of view, allowed to rough people up to get what he needs.
“Yes, oyaji.” Atreus nods firmly, fully accepting his superior's advice. Though he furrows his brow in hesitance at the thought of engaging in a physical confrontation, he realizes the possible necessity of it.