January 20th, 13 days after the first victim's fate.
Roppongi is an amazing area, from the rooftops you could see LED-decorated trees below the magnificence of the Tokyo Tower. At night, the tower would outdazzle the moon with it's purest elegance, Roppongi Hills in the day would give you this professional vibe, as if the time for fireworks and candied apple have come to a close and what remained was busy phone booths and overly-occupied firms having one hand on money and the other on the future.
You see, Roppongi, no matter the weather or time of day attracted addiction; to drugs, money, violence, power and the urge to lose more in hopes of winning. The city was careful, it selected it's prey, divided the poor and oblique minded from the sturdy, it pounced at them like a flytrap and never let go like an arachnid's silky web. Day after day, week after week, the web put you sleep without you noticing the monster behind, and when you realised, your soul was gone and your eyes filled with wretched desperation. The only release being to jump onto a burning noose.
You'd place a coin in, wishing to the Gods you once had not believed in for three symbols to appear in a row, and when you didn't you'd be offended as if your devotion was real. The casino was a dangerous place, a place where goons and yakuza met to bet their filthy cash and turn it brand new. This wasn't exclusive to criminals, it was also a place where the so called 'protectors' came to have a bit of fun they branded as taboo. The corruption slashed away at the core of Japan and we were too jubilant in the present that we took the future for granted, the murder on the 7th proved that.
Today was different, the casino packed with over two dozen bodyguards, and almost as many politicians inside the high-stakes booths as well, but it wasn't different for that reason. Today, the Wraith himself was watching them.
Inside the Casino. Same date, 20:00 PM sharp.
The noise scurried around as soon as the doors opened like rats, you could hear chips clattering, cards and cash folding and counted consecutively at different frequencies. You could smell the bourbon and catch the ice scattering, hitting each side of the glass, you could get a whiff of rose on the lapels of jackets and the exquisite parfum on the wealthy. This place was not for the low class, and especially not for law-enforcement either.
"It's a busy day today, the money will rack in as soon as the night's over, cannot wait for my sum." The businessman said. "What about you, you getting a piece?"
"Nah man, I came today to get blackout drunk and for the sight of these girls." Said the other. "Simply stunning, aren't they?"
"Yeah, I feel you, it's not often you get to see such a sight in one place, not here in Roppongi. Too many girls dressed in gold though, it's as if they're copying each other."
"I get you, it's too basi-" The man couldn't finish his sentence, he didn't even try to formulate the rest. At the door was a stunning woman, black dress with a hint of white, walking as if the velvet red carpet was made for her sole existence. She had smooth long and blonde hair, she had the men's eyes on her as if they were looking at a sports car, and the women looked, half out of unconditional jealousy. She sat at the bar, ordered a classic apple martini and had placed it on her tab. She was sensational, early-twenties, so beautiful maintaining eye contact would turn you to stone. She gulped the martini down fast, left the olive on the toothpick and left it in the glass.
To stand in her grace was luxury, she got up and waltzed to the high-stakes booth, let in unbothered by the muscular bodyguards. She was here for a purpose, she couldn't say but I assure you it was high stakes. All the men in power peered over her with cautious eyes, like vipers hiding in the marshlands. They knew she was entitled, they just didn't know how and why, it was the standard to be sceptical. She sat at a five-card draw game, sitting alongside what we know of as prestigious men, and gave a seducing smile followed by a chuckle.
"Have you played before, mister?" The lady said, "You're Masaru Takashi, the financial adviser, correct? What a surprise seeing you here."
"Yes, hello lady, you seem new around these areas, what brings you to my lovely table?"
"Nothing much, it just felt like an honour to sit and play with a high-ranking official such as yours."
"Would you like to get a drink after?" Spoke the lady, "It would be a shame for our meeting to be left as a coincidence and so short-lived."
"Of course, it would be quite rude to turn down such a generous offer from such a beauty like yourself."
21:27 PM, Inside the Casino.
The commotion about the woman was short lived, the night was young and the moon just lit. What walked through the door next was not some dazzling woman, nor was it a presentable man, what came through was a tall man, around 6 foot 1, wearing a black hoodie, covering his face. His appearance was almost laughable, especially at an event like this open only to the rich. He was quickly stopped by the bodyguard, what the tall man had in his hand was a briefcase, and when he opened it he did not have green paper, nor did he have golds and diamonds, yet he had a single card, proof of identification as the highest-ranking dealer among staff.
The bodyguards dispersed, the man was let through, the men and women in the back practically boasting their 'superiority' in front of what they felt was a man addicted to his gamble. The man had not showed any signs of fright or embarrassment, yet he instantly went to the washroom right after entering the casino, quite peculiar indeed.
As soon as he came out, he dressed pleasantly, his hair was black and long up to his neck, and was wearing a black face mask, covering even his eyes. This was standard uniform for dealers so high up in the hierarchy such as him, he looked almost like a statue, he had no personality, he walked with clarity and did not speak, and he was headed to the VIP's Room at the end of the opulent gambling den.