257 Chapter five, 2017, years end: 5 (2/2)

Mitsuo's next target was a businessman. He had two sons, and the younger could be tied tighter to the yakuza, if Mitsuo paid the right kind of people some money. Nothing much. What Mitsuo wanted was for the business to get associated with organised crime. The kid could just lie down and die for all he cared.

'I don't think Natsumi and Tadao would agree, but you both knew I was broken from the beginning.' Mitsuo shook his head. 'And you still called me to fight your war? What am I getting myself into?' Anything bad enough for his two friends to give up their decency had to be disgustingly bad. 'I hope you'll be able to live on when it clings to you. This kind of dirt can never be washed away.

Oh well, I need to know.' He prayed he had guessed right and sent Ulf Hammargren an email. After that it was time to hang enough shit around the throat of an eighteen year old child to make sure he wouldn't be accepted at university. Nothing less would make his father budge.

'And I'm one of the good guys? Sheesh, where did the world go wrong?' Grinning more honestly now Mitsuo rang a contact of his, who didn't know exactly where he was going to be hit by a drunk motorcyclist. After the accident Mitsuo wasn't needed any longer. The former athlete knew how to spin a web of lies well enough without any instructions.

There was a response to his email. 'Yes! Thank all gods!'

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Would the kid be interested in cooperation?

Yes, but what was in it for him?

Money?

No, he made enough of those. Names and places.

'What the hell?' They were hunting the same people. Or almost the same people. Difference being Ulf didn't want anyone killed, and Mitsuo didn't need a naive kid to tell him how to solve a problem.

And then, very suddenly, Mitsuo found out there were two persons in the world who scared him. In less than ten minutes he had no working phone, no assets in the bank, and a paper delivered to where he was walking, by means of a taxi, told him in no uncertain terms what would happen to his ownership of that spa south of Ise if even one more person died.

Sano Mitsuo, almost a hundred years old subjectively and forty objectively, grinned like a retarded teenager when his telephone came alive again. 'Hell yeah! Whenever you want to marry Tina, just say the word and I'll walk her down the aisle.'

Guts and integrity. What was there not to like? Never before had anyone dared to bring down the hammer of doom on his head without a moment of hesitation. Natsumi eventually did, but Mitsuo was certain there had been quite some deliberations before.

'I had forgotten how much more fun it is with new arrivals. Fine Ulf, I'll deliver them by their balls. Alive, but by their balls.'