How Things Changed Forever.. PART - II

CH 45: Maybe I Did. Maybe I Still Do...

Kai hadn't been to this side of Japan in a year. The underground market here in Japan wasn't big, but it was well-connected. From petty thieves to big-shot scammers, someone somehow knew the other here.

But it was also a tight-knit community. Too dependent on one another for things to run smoothly. Names didn't leave the circles easily enough, unless they were sure that they could be replaced.

On top of all that, one had to earn the names. And the best way to earn them—aside from threatening lives at knife-point or gambling away riches—happened to be beyblading.

Kai stepped into the off-road ramen shop, and the air shifted. The scent of cheap incense, damp wood, and old smoke clung to the walls, the same as he remembered.

He'd gone back to his apartment and dressed up for the occasion. His signature long black coat, hood pulled low. Black jeans. Black fingerless gloves. Black boots. The only pop of color happened to be his eyes, blood-red. He was reminded of the times when he used to wear a mouth mask, leaving only his eyes to be seen to the world. For two years, no one had known his real identity here.

There was no need for that anymore, but he still liked to keep up his persona. He was still RedEye to the people here, and he liked it that way.

The low lights flickered, casting shadows over familiar faces—people who had not been expecting him there and people who knew better than to meet his eyes.

Nothing seemed to have changed. Not really. The crackling music. The hushed whispers. Drunken laughs. Everything seemed to have stilled in time.

The shopkeeper's gaze snapped to him, recognition flashing behind a scowl. "RedEye." He greeted, with no warmth. Not that he'd been expecting any.

"Didn't think you ran in the same circles anymore. Thought you went soft, playing with your little team." He mocked.

He heard a drunk guy snicker, but one look from him shut him up. Kai didn't follow up, drunk men were hardly worth the fight.

He turned to the shopkeeper instead, acting unimpressed. The smirk that he gave him wasn't all that difficult. Just pulling up another mask.

"Spare me the chit-chat. I want a name. Someone sells a drug that weakens the body and erases the last few hours of memory. I want to know who sells it, where it came from, and I want proof. Tonight."

The shopkeeper crossed his arms, unimpressed. "You think I'm running a damn charity here?" he barked, way too loudly for someone just a few feet away from him, but Kai was used to this. "Information costs, boy, and you don't even belong here anymore."

Kai tilted his head, smirking just enough to be condescending. He didn't want to humiliate the old man. He needed his cooperation, after all. But to hell if he'd just bow to his tactics. "That so? I don't recall ever needing an invitation to take whatever I wanted."

Leaning in closer for better effect, he continued. "Be glad I'm taking the tamer route this time, not upending your close-knit bidding circle and black market every other week like I usually did."

The mannerism was calculated. Words sharp. The heady feeling of power, familiar.

Kai slipped into his place at the underworld bidding system, just like old times. The feeling of manipulating a conversation's result, addicting. A skill he rather liked but hadn't wielded in a while.

The shopkeeper shifted, his fingers twitching. He wasn't stupid. He remembered exactly what Kai had been before. The kind you don't mess with.

Kai rather enjoyed the raw fear he inspired in the man before feeling slightly guilty for it. But unlike all the other masks he wore, Kai didn't hate this one.