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A gesture of good faith (Bitsevsky Park)
#11
Some time later, the yakuza was sitting on the ground, forehead laid across arms which were themselves folded weakly over his knees. He was silent but for the rattled wheezing of a ragged breath. Ryker knew what a man with broken ribs looked like, and unless a lung was punctured, there was nothing much to do except suffer through the healing.

He squat near in front of him, which of course drew Kiyohito’s face upward. There was decent bruising, but the color would only darken the next few days. Blood cut his lip. More trickled out of his nose. A line dripped down from the eyebrow.

“Your first time?” he asked.

Kiyohito grabbed the tank top nearby and pressed it to his temple, and Ryker had his answer.

He snorted and stood. “It’ll only get worse. You’re going to feel like you were hit by a truck tomorrow. Come on,” he offered a hand to help him to his feet. The Japanese of course refused it and stubbornly made the journey on his own. His face was twisted with pain as he slid on his shirt, fingers shaking as he fumbled through the buttons.

Asshole didn’t want help, so Ryker stood back and let him struggle into his jacket alone. He joined him as he began to walk away.
“You look like a hunchback old woman. Stand up,” he pat him on the back, but Kiyohito’s arm flew out to push him off.

“Oh so you do have some fight in you!” he mused. Kiyohito shot him the darkest stare yet. One he didn’t even know the man possessed. Good for him. He was going to need that fight soon enough.

Ryker’s pace matched the more slowly moving Yakuza. About the time they passed the open field with the infamous red dick, dark now that the umbrella of night fell, he added something.

“There’s someone you should meet. Three days from now, I’ll make the introduction. You know Zixin fucking owns your brother now. He might as well own you, as you can see. You want an ally? You should meet Yuta Hayashi.”

Kiyohito’s voice was tight when he finally responded. “Hayashi is Edenokōji-gumi.”

“Exactly.”

Kiyohito was doubtful.

“Unless you want to work for the Syndicate the rest of your life?” Ryker shrugged either way.

At the edge of the park, they parted ways, but not before Ryker shared the information about their eventual meeting.

A few blocks to the train station and he made one last call. It was the middle of the night, but this call was special. Expected.

The voice on the other end answered after two rings.
“Did they make the alliance?”

Ryker smiled to himself in the dark.
“Yes. Yes, they did.”

There was always a bigger fish.
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#12
[Image: Myshelov12.jpg]
Myshelov Arkadiy Tarasovich
Patron of Moscow and Dominance I





“Stay on top of it,” he ordered Petrović and ended the call.

After Myshelov disconnected the audio, he left the wallet on the bedside table. When he returned to the plush pillows of his bed, an arm snaked its way across his chest. He nodded to himself, musing on the outcome for a few moments, before removing the woman's arm so he could roll over and go back to sleep.

Nothing happened in Moscow without his knowing it.
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#13
Suravye ninto manshima taishite
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Kiyohito +
Beowulf + Arjuna +
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