Page 8 of The Dragon 2
Because this wasn’t just a hostile takeover.
This wasa war between a Fox and a Dragon.
My father—the Fox—had ruled Tokyo with clever cruelty for decades. Foxes were known for deception, illusion, and misdirection. They whispered lies like lullabies and slit throats while you slept.
But me?
I wasn’t built for stealth. I was born with scales. I breathed heat. My instincts weren’t to hide or outthink.
They were to scorch.
Foxes played chess.
Dragons burned the board.
Across from me, Reo leaned over the eastern edge of the map, tracing a sharp neon blue line with his gloved finger. “On the day we officially declare war with your father. . .I think we shouldsecure the perimeter around Ironport before midnight and cut off the distribution channel. That way we guarantee two things: silence in the ports and panic on the Strip.”
Behind him, Kaoru stood with a sleek black tablet, his long pink hair tied back in a low ponytail. Real-time surveillance flickered across the screen—my father’s known locations, convoy patterns, and weapon transfers.
“The Fox is still rotating guards through The Pale Gate every two hours. He’s very nervous, but I don’t think he suspects what will happen.” Kaoru shifted to another screen. “But his usual convoy to Shinjuku Thirteen has been reduced. He’s consolidating. It may mean that he definitely knows we’re coming.”
“Or he’s simply safeguarding his prized possessions.” Yoichi, my Haiku Sniper, sat languidly with his bald head tilted back, silver wolf tooth charm glinting against his open designer jacket.
“We must be careful. Your father has gone to war four times and wonallof them.” Yoichi trailed smoke from his clove cigarette, watching the map like it was a cherry blossom about to fall. “Meanwhile. . .war is new to us.”
Across from him, Rin—my Silent Poison—stood in ghostly white, tall and unreadable. His braided ponytail fell to his waist. “Still, we could take many out without bullets. I have something special I’ve been working on. A gas that could kill a large group of people with just one inhale.”
Reo shook his head. “Gas can’t guarantee innocents are safe.”
Rin shrugged. “We can make sure the building is cleared of innocents and only full of our enemies.”
“And what of the bugs, the rodents, and the cats possibly hiding within the space?”
Rin chuckled. “I think the rodents can take their chances.”
“But that’s the problem,” Reo’s tone became sharper. “You say that as if they aren’t real lives.”
“They’re not,” Rin said simply, glancing down at the map. “Not in the way we are. Not in the way that matters. Pest. Food. Predator. That’s the hierarchy.”
Reo leaned back slightly. “You sound like my father.”
That made Rin pause.
Reo’s voice dropped. “He once let an entire building collapse because he believed everyone inside was beneath him. Including the janitor. The pregnant woman. The girl hiding behind a desk with headphones in. Just background noise to him. Vermin.”
“We’re not talking about innocent people, Reo.” Rin countered. “We’re talking about animals. We’re talking about war. And war is not a clean thing.”
“No, it’s not.” Reo’s voice held no illusions. “But if we become so numb that we no longer care who chokes on our ambition, then we are no better than the men we’re trying to replace.”
Yoichi blew out a plume of smoke that curled into the dim light. “The philosopher awakens.”
But Reo didn’t flinch. He looked right at Rin. “I’m not saying we don’t kill. I’m saying we choose who. Precisely. Surgically. Without casualties that don’t deserve it.”
Rin tilted his head. “So, we must save the animals?”
“Yes,” Reo scowled at him. “Because sometimes it’s the cat hiding under the stairwell that a dying woman meets and now her day is brightened. And sometimes it’s the stray dog who leads a child to safety or protects her even. You don’t get to play God with the entire building just because the target’s inside.”
For a moment, there was silence around the table.
