Chapter 216: Born Actor! (Patreon)

The Warehouse Fire.

As Fujiwara Kazuma's investigation went on and the story kept unfolding…

The truth that had stayed hidden behind the scenes, that his adoptive father was still alive, was finally uncovered by Fujiwara Kazuma.

The truth was so simple. And so cruel.

After years of friction with the Tohiko Gang, the Saijo Society's manpower and resources had been steadily worn down. So his adoptive father had set his sights on the enormous profits of illegal drugs.

But the loudest opponent of those drugs… was none other than his adopted son, Fujiwara Kazuma, whose standing kept rising through the very clashes between the Saijo Society and the Tohiko Gang.

His methods were ruthless, yet never once abandoned honor, and they had earned him a certain reputation even among the Tohiko Gang, the rival gang.

As a result, Kazuma's adoptive father, the boss of the syndicate, had no way to push the drug trade on a large scale.

Many people feared Fujiwara Kazuma, the Dragon Among Men.

So Kazuma's adoptive father came up with a plan… faking his own death.

First, he faked his death in front of the world, claiming that Fujiwara Kazuma had killed his adoptive father and then tried to burn the body.

But in secret, he had long since joined forces with the Tohiko Gang to push the drugs together and rake in enormous profits.

At the same time, he wanted to use the hands of both the Tohiko Gang and the Saijo Society to wipe out Fujiwara Kazuma, that disobedient pawn.

And so, the warehouse would be burned to the ground.

It was Fujiwara Kazuma's revenge against his father, and it was also the code of the underworld, the code that would stop the drugs his adoptive father was selling from spreading through Tokyo!

It could be said that this scene was the dividing line that carried the whole film into its climax.

It was also the groundwork for the next scene, where Fujiwara Kazuma shoots his father dead and turns the entire truth on its head.

As for why it was dangerous, the reason was just as mentioned before: in this scene, Minami Yuji really did have to set fire to the entire warehouse.

And the warehouse was a proper one, built at real cost.

Even if it was only a plain warehouse shell, it had still eaten up a good chunk of the production budget.

That was exactly why Nakashima Tetsuya had asked Minami Yuji once more whether he was confident.

Because…

"Just shooting this scene is already burning money," Nakashima Tetsuya said, shaking his head.

If something went wrong halfway and they couldn't get it in one take, they'd have to burn the money all over again.

Who in their right mind enjoys burning money?

So this scene was extremely important. It was the kind of scene that would decide the rest of the shooting schedule.

Nakashima Tetsuya glanced at the props crew arranging the warehouse furnishings and the other teams setting up the combustibles, then turned his gaze to the other side.

Over there, Kakiya Kenji was going over the upcoming action choreography again and again with the stunt performers, while Minami Yuji, already in makeup, repeatedly confirmed his blocking and the spot where he would exit the warehouse.

"Hoo…"

Letting out a long, heavy breath, Nakashima Tetsuya checked the sky.

The sky that had still held a trace of sunset color was now completely stained black as ink.

That color… elegant as ink…

There was nothing left to hesitate over, Nakashima Tetsuya thought.

He picked up the megaphone.

"Get ready to roll!"

…

Clap!

The clapperboard snapped.

First, the feet of the outermost sentry entered the frame.

Then a pair of hands reaching out from the shadows came into view.

And then.

Accompanied by twisted, agonized, struggling groans,

the sentry in Saijo Society clothing kicked his legs in the air, his face contorted, his eyes full of terror.

His hands clawed again and again at the arms locked around his throat in a rear naked choke, trying to break free.

But it was already too late.

The thrashing legs slowly lost their strength, turning to spasms and twitches.

Drool spilled from his mouth.

As the hands behind him let go,

the body dropped.

Through those dim, lifeless eyes, one could clearly see the expressionless face of the black-haired young man, and the flames churning in his eyes.

Was Fujiwara Kazuma angry?

Of course he was.

It wasn't only because the adoptive father he had always respected wanted him dead. More than that, the man actually intended to bring that drug into Tokyo to sell it!

If it ever came to that,

it wouldn't just be adults who suffered from the addictive contraband. Even some underage children would likely be dragged into it.

Fujiwara Kazuma was an orphan.

Precisely because he had once stood out in the rain himself, he wanted to hold up an umbrella for others.

But now…

the umbrella was broken.

White lightning flashed across the edge of the sky.

A downpour came crashing down without warning.

Expressionless, he dragged the body into a corner, changed into the man's clothes, and tucked a pistol into his waistband.

Then he raised his face.

The camera seemed to follow his line of sight, slowly rising at that moment,

bringing the outline of the distant warehouse, where cargo was still being carried back and forth, into frame.

White arcs of light kept leaping.

They didn't just light up the faraway warehouse.

They also lit up the dagger in his hand… paler by far than the moonlight.

"Mm. Very good."

Watching Minami Yuji on the monitor, both Kakiya Kenji and Nakashima Tetsuya nodded.

The way Minami Yuji had struck from the shadows just now was crisp, to say the least.

That chokehold, locked on tight,

made even Kakiya Kenji, the action director, feel a chill run down his own neck.

It was as if Minami Yuji had truly become the Dragon Among Men from the story, arriving at the warehouse wrapped in rage.

Bang!!!

Orange-red muzzle flashes exploded in the next instant!

Gunfire and gun smoke.

Blood and corpses.

The yakuza of the Saijo Society and the Tohiko Gang all stepped back at once. Seeing the black-haired young man stop of his own accord before them, the men who had been so full of menace fell silent in an instant.

They simply stared at him.

Terrified, and awed.

No one was unafraid of Fujiwara Kazuma.

Even though they outnumbered him now.

Even though he'd had his arm cut in the chase just before…

he was still the Dragon Among Men of Tokyo.

Still the legendary gangster who was held in endless esteem by both the Saijo Society and the Tohiko Gang.

But just then, mocking applause and a whistle rang out.

"Asada?"

The one who had made the sound was someone Fujiwara Kazuma knew. No, calling him an old acquaintance wasn't an exaggeration.

Back then, Kazuma's adoptive father had taken in not only Fujiwara Kazuma but a great many orphans.

In the end, though, only Fujiwara Kazuma and the Asada standing before him were left.

But unlike the steadier Fujiwara Kazuma,

Asada was younger, and wilder.

Rumor had it that during a territorial dispute between gangs, Asada had deliberately put down his pistol and, with nothing but his bare hands, bitten out one of the enemy gang leader's eyes.

Because of that, he'd earned a nickname too: the Mad Tiger of the Saijo Society.

The dragon and the tiger. That was the very reason the Saijo Society could hold the lion's share in a Tokyo carved up by gangs.

And now, looking at this familiar face in a white suit,

Fujiwara Kazuma spoke a single line, and only that one.

"Why?"

Yes.

Why?

Why had his adoptive father taken things this far?

Even without the profits from illegal drugs, the Saijo Society should have been more than strong enough to hold its ground in Tokyo.

But faced with Fujiwara Kazuma's question, Asada only gave a cold laugh.

"You've known the reason all along, haven't you?"

"…" Fujiwara Kazuma.

Fujiwara Kazuma closed his eyes.

He said nothing more.

Ah…

Right.

He had known the answer all along.

He had only asked to confirm the answer in his heart.

That was all.

Rrrip!!!

With a crisp sound, a strip of cloth was torn away and wrapped around his wounded arm.

The long-empty pistol was tossed aside.

Gripping the short dagger tight,

he held the blade in a forward grip, body bent slightly, eyes fixed on Asada.

His breathing quickened.

A mad grin forced its way onto Asada's face.

With a flick of his wrist, a dagger nearly identical to Kazuma's dropped into his hand.

He twirled it with careless ease, shoved aside the gangsters around him, and twisted his face.

"I got sick of it a long time ago!"

His voice was savage.

"Sick of those old bastards always comparing you and me!"

His finger shot up and pointed at Fujiwara Kazuma.

But compared with how worked up he was,

Fujiwara Kazuma merely shook his head.

"Asada, did you forget? You've never beaten me."

"I won't lose! I never lose! Let's have one last game, you and me!"

Thud! Thud! Thud!

His legs launched him forward.

The short dagger in his hand struck like a viper at Fujiwara Kazuma's head.

The speed was terrifying, the motion so clean that it seemed impossible to follow.

Yet in the face of such a vicious assault, Fujiwara Kazuma advanced instead of retreating.

He merely tilted his head slightly, dodging the lethal thrust by a hair's breadth, and in the same instant flipped the dagger in his hand and drove it straight at the other man's chest.

The keen blade stabbed forward with a whistle through the air.

But then—

Bang!!!

Holding a sideways kick, Asada planted one hand on the ground like a circus acrobat and drove a foot into Fujiwara Kazuma's flank.

Thrown off balance by the unexpected side kick,

Fujiwara Kazuma, whose arm was already wounded, staggered back two steps.

Then his pupils contracted slightly.

Because an orange-red flash had already flared!

The man had drawn the pistol at his waist without a moment's hesitation!

Bang bang bang!!!

The bullets flew out wrapped in muzzle fire.

But the instant Asada began to raise the gun, Fujiwara Kazuma went into a breakfall roll and took cover behind a metal shelf.

Hurried footsteps rang out in the next moment.

Firing in bursts, Asada charged forward without hesitation.

What he hadn't expected was that Fujiwara Kazuma wouldn't run at all, and instead closed in right in front of him.

He tried to pull the trigger.

But the distance between them was far too short.

The moment he fired, Fujiwara Kazuma had already swung the dagger in his hand!

Squelch!!!

A cold flash of steel!

Fingers fell away, all at once!

What followed was Asada's shrill scream, and his pistol spinning through the air.

His face twisted, reckless with pain, he swung his dagger and lunged at Fujiwara Kazuma.

But it was all too late.

Fujiwara Kazuma had already planted a foot in his chest.

Using the force of that kick, he not only sent Asada stumbling backward,

but also did a backflip in midair.

Mid-flip, he caught the pistol.

Raised his hand.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Orange-red fire bloomed once more.

In that instant, Asada, still swinging his dagger, could even see the orange-yellow flame belching from the muzzle, and the tragically beautiful flower of blood blossoming across his chest.

Blood spattered across Fujiwara Kazuma's face and stained his chin red.

Staggering back several steps against the metal shelf, Asada bled in rivulets from his body, bloody bubbles frothing at the corner of his mouth with each breath.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Calm footsteps sounded.

Asada raised his head in disbelief and looked at Fujiwara Kazuma before him.

Fujiwara Kazuma's expression hadn't changed.

Even faced with this bloody scene, even though the man who had fought him to the death was his own childhood friend, he stayed calm, because his heart had already gone cold during that talk with Asada.

He took a handkerchief from Asada's pocket

and wiped the sticky blood from his face and hands.

The footsteps carried on.

But only halfway,

the footsteps stopped.

"I told you, Asada."

His voice paused, and he tossed the handkerchief aside.

"You've never beaten me."

But Asada could no longer hear any of it.

His strength, and the terrified clamor of the henchmen around him, slowly peeled away from his senses.

Only one thought filled his entire body

—so cold.

…

"Good work today, Yuji-kun!"

"Thank you, Director Nakashima. You've worked hard too."

Taking the bottle of mineral water Nakashima Tetsuya held out, Minami Yuji, who was still wiping away sweat, smiled and thanked him.

"No, no, no. Without a doubt, you're the one who worked hardest this time, Yuji-kun."

Nakashima Tetsuya waved a hand, acknowledging Minami Yuji's contribution.

Because it was true: the young man had worked brutally hard.

From his opening appearance in frame, to getting chased and beaten through the warehouse district, to facing off with the main villain Asada and killing him, Minami Yuji's shots had run back to back like a string of beads. Calling it tightly packed was no exaggeration.

And after killing Asada, Minami Yuji still had a standoff scene with the remaining henchmen, and then he had to set the entire warehouse ablaze…

After that whole run of long takes… never mind Minami Yuji, even an onlooker like Nakashima Tetsuya felt exhausted just watching.

On top of that, a few extras had been badly positioned and blocked the camera, forcing Minami Yuji to run it all again, which added to his physical toll, and some of the moves had strict requirements besides.

Take the front kick to Asada, then the backflip where he had to catch the pistol and fire.

It might sound slow, but from flip to landing it was really only a second or two.

If Minami Yuji hadn't had a solid foundation himself, that backflip alone would have stumped plenty of actors.

And the warehouse fire that followed was an even bigger set piece.

To sell the ferocity of the blaze,

the props crew had also rigged explosions and flash-fire effects. Of course, all of that was done only after confirming Minami Yuji had dived clear of the warehouse.

Beyond all that,

Minami Yuji had also shot the final scene,

the one where the police surround the scene and he aims his pistol straight at his adoptive father.

Since the weather had been good today and it wasn't raining,

Nakashima Tetsuya had even brought in a rain truck specially, and it drenched him without mercy.

Yet even so.

Beaten up, pulling off one high-difficulty move after another, burning down a warehouse, and finally getting soaked in the rain…

Minami Yuji hadn't voiced a single complaint.

So even Nakashima Tetsuya couldn't help marveling.

Minami Yuji was simply a born actor.

And… all that effort had been worth it.

Nakashima Tetsuya turned his eyes to the monitor, where a few takes kept replaying.

The veteran director's usually calm mood grew excited.

The reason was simple.

Those shots were simply too perfect.

He had assumed that an action film shot with a young actor who had no training, like Minami Yuji, would come out as neither fish nor fowl, or that every other moment would show wires and rigging and make the picture look fake.

But the result was completely beyond his and Kakiya Kenji's expectations.

Minami Yuji's movements, crisper than those of real stunt performers, and his acting, far above that of ordinary action actors, convinced him of one thing:

once Dragon Among Men was officially released, riding on Minami Yuji, this natural-born actor, it was inevitable that it would draw the buzz it deserved.

He believed that firmly.

But Minami Yuji didn't share Nakashima Tetsuya's thoughts.

He was drying the water from his hair with one hand and scanning his phone with the other.

Night shooting took far more time than he'd imagined.

Now that filming was done, it was already eleven at night.

By the time he got home, it would probably be around twelve.

All Minami Yuji could do was shake his head.

How should he put it…

Could they let him go home a little faster?

He still had to clear out guest rooms for Sakurajima Mai and Kana Arima.