Page 115 of Divine Obsession

I wasn’t sure how much I trusted him anymore, but I knew one thing for sure: Whoever was behind this attack was playing a dangerous game.

And I didn’t intend to let them win.

The air inside the mahjong parlor smelled of cigarette smoke, oolong tea, and old ghosts. Hidden behind a shabby herbal medicine shop, this place had been here for decades. The neon glow from the street barely made it through the dust-flecked windows, casting faded red streaks across the green-tiled tables.

I found him exactly where I expected.

Ojiisan sat at the farthest table, slowly shuffling mahjong tiles. The overhead light flickered, highlighting the deep lines on his face, carved by time and blood. His gray hair, slicked back, gave him the air of a man who had once ruled an empire and had no regrets about losing it.

I slid into the seat across from the old Yakuza Boss, resting my elbows on the jade-green table. “Thought you quit smoking,” I said, eyeing the lit cigarette between his fingers.

“I quit being the boss too, but old habits, hm?” His voice was a slow drag of gravel and whiskey.

I tapped the table, signaling to start the game. He nodded, moving with the ease of a man who had shuffled these tiles a million times before.

We played in silence for a while, the soft clinking of tiles filling the air. Outside, car horns blared. A woman laughed. Somewhere, in one of the back rooms, a dealer whispered to a client about tonight’s high-stakes game. The city breathed around us, oblivious to the power that once sat at this very table.

“Tell me why you’re really here,Kaito-san.” He flicked a tile onto the table –East Wind. “Not for my company, I assume.”

I leaned back, studying him. “Someone’s been hitting my family’s networks. It’s bad.”

His calm expression didn’t change. “And you think it’s my people?”

It wasn’t just the betrayal that stung. It was personal.

Four years ago, I’d left New York and gone to Tokyo because of the Yakuza. My uncle had been killed, his control over our family’s operations in Japan slipping into chaos. I’d spent four goddamn years clawing back respect for my family’s name, reasserting power in a world where strength was the only currency that mattered, only to come back to New York and deal with the same shit again.

“You were the only one disciplined enough to pull something like this off.” I let the weight of the words settle before I pushed a tile forward –Red Dragon. “But you’re not in the game anymore.”

Ojiisan nodded slowly. “You always were the sharp one. It’s not me. But I know who it probably is.” He reached for his tea and took a careful sip. “The new boss, Kazuo. He’s young. And young men make poor kings.” He set down another tile. “They burn their own houses down just to prove they own the fire.”

I exhaled slowly. “Why him?”

“I never had children, and the clan would not follow a ghost.” His lips pressed together. “Kazuo has blood, but no discipline. I did what I could before stepping away, but a man cannot lead wolves if he does not understand hunger.”

The weight in his voice told me everything. He knew what Kazuo was, but it was no longer his war to fight.

I picked up a tile –West Wind.

“You’re telling me to handle this myself.”

He gave a small shrug. “I’m telling you what is.”

Silence again. The game continued.

After a few more rounds, he placed his final tile down, and a soft smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Mahjong.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I let you win.”

“Lying to an old man?” He crushed his cigarette into a jade ashtray. “Careful,Kaito-san. That’s how you lose your soul.”

I pushed back my chair, slipping my coat over my shoulders, before bowing my head in respect. “Haisha moushiagemasu, Ojiisan-sama. Deha mata.”Thank you. See you soon.

He didn’t answer, just nodded as I disappeared into the neon-lit night, heading toward the storm I knew was coming.

Chapter 31

Present

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