"A yakuza hideout? This is practically Gabriel’s wet dream."

Julius stepped out of the car with the same energy one would have with a mildly inconvenient dentist appointment.

The building in front of him was exactly what every stereotypical crime drama would portray, with men in suits walking around with tattoos peeking under their collars.

If Gabriel were here, he would have been ovulating with excitement.

Julius merely gave the entrance a bored look.

The driver shoved him forward, as if expecting resistance, but Julius didn’t even stumble.

He was guided deeper into the building and finally pushed into a spacious tatami room. Sitting at the far end was a man with slicked-back hair, an expensive suit, and a dragon tattoo down his neck. Several lieutenants stood behind him. The setup practically screamed "boss meeting."

Julius stifled a yawn.

"This might be the most traditional kidnapping I’ve experienced. Points for atmosphere."

The boss’s eyebrow twitched. "You are Julius Schneider, yes?"

Julius nodded. "Unfortunately for you, yes. And points for your German accent, by the way. Impressive attempt. But don’t worry, I’ve studied Japanese. You can drop it."

Whispers ran through the men in the room. The boss’s jaw tightened, clearly not expecting to be critiqued on his linguistic performance.

"So," Julius continued, "shall we switch to Japanese? German? English? I can even do Latin if you want this to feel more dramatic."

"You’re bold," the boss said in Japanese this time.

"I’m on vacation," Julius replied. "I refuse to exert more energy than necessary."

The boss leaned back, trying to assess him. "Do you know why we brought you here?"

"Not yet. Though I’m assuming it’s either money, leverage, or someone in your group was dumb enough to think kidnapping me was a good idea."

A vein bulged at the corner of the boss’s forehead.

"What? You kidnapped me during my break," Julius said flatly. "Be grateful I’m not charging you for wasting my time."

The room grew silent.

The lieutenants exchanged glances. The man they brought in wasn’t behaving like a hostage.

Finally, the boss cleared his throat. "...We brought you here because we want to make a deal."

Julius’s eyes narrowed. "A deal. That’s new. Usually the kidnapping comes after the failed negotiation, not before."

He leaned back in the chair as though he were in a boardroom instead of a smoky tatami-lined hideout.

"Well then. Let’s hear it. I could go for another meeting today."

The boss cleared his throat. "You see... we’ve been commissioned. By someone you know very well. Someone very intent on taking you out. They reached out to us the moment they heard you were coming to Japan."

"Go on?"

"Now, we want to offer you a choice, Mister Schneider. Truthfully, we don’t want disputes with your family. So... if you can pay more than what we’ve been offered, we’ll let you go. And perhaps even do unto the client what we were paid to do to you."

A few of the men exchanged looks, as if they felt quite proud of the mercenary pragmatism behind the offer.

"Interesting," Julius murmured. "But who’s the client?"

"This is as much as I can tell you. The name comes after the transaction."

Julius tapped his fingers on the table. Truthfully, it wasn’t a bad offer at all. He had been considering it from the moment the boss started talking. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded.

"All right. How much?"

"Ninety-million yen."

"Huh?"

Julius blinked once, then twice. "Ninety-million?"

"Yes."

"For my head?"

"Yes."

Julius stared at him with a pointed look. "...That’s cheap."

The boss choked. "C-cheap?!"

"Yes," Julius nodded, his expression saying he was offended. "My brother’s head goes for eight million euros. My father’s is... well, priceless. And mine is merely ninety million yen? I’m insulted. That’s barely over five hundred thousand euros."

The boss’s face twitched. His men exchanged looks, unsure whether they should feel apologetic or threatened.

"M-Mister Schneider," the boss began, "we priced it based on what the client—"

"Based on what?" Julius cut in. "My age? My weight? Did the client lowball you? You should’ve negotiated. This is humiliating. Imagine being a Schneider and finding out your life is worth less than a mid-range Tokyo apartment."

"Th-that is still quite a sum—"

"No, it is not," Julius said. "It’s loose change by kidnapping standards. You should at least aim for a hundred fifty million, maybe two hundred. Kidnapping is a business, isn’t it? Price yourselves better."

The boss sputtered helplessly. "M-Mister Schneider, we are not accustomed to negotiating ransom values with the hostage—"

"Clearly. Because you’re underselling me," Julius replied. "Tell the client to raise it. Or better yet, I’ll raise it myself. Set it to one hundred fifty million. I refuse to be worth less than a mid-range Tokyo apartment."

"A mid-range Tokyo apartment is one hundred fifty million—"

"Exactly," Julius snapped. "Do I look like I should go for anything less than prime real estate?!"

The boss opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. But ultimately, nothing came out.

After a long moment, he managed to say, "...If you find the amount unsatisfactory, Mister Schneider, we can... renegotiate."

"Good," Julius said. "Because if I’m going to be kidnapped, I’d like my self-worth to remain intact."

"Then... perhaps one hundred fifty million yen, as you said?"

In any case, the negotiations came through. These yakuza men were far more terrified of him than he had initially expected. There were certainly advantages to being the son of a militaristically advanced nation’s future prime minister.

"Jewel Electricals, huh?" Julius murmured once the name was disclosed. "Those guys are still kicking. Well, that’s good news. I was wondering when they’d show up again. Be sure to say hi for me."

Quite honestly, it turned out to be an interesting vacation. And truth be told, Julius had always been a little curious about meeting the yakuza at least once in his life. Now that he had, he felt oddly satisfied, like he had just crossed something off a bucket list he didn’t know he had.

Just as he was about to leave the compound, he paused by the exit and turned to the boss.

"By the way, do you guys take commissions outside of organized crime?"

"Ah?"

"You see, I have this friend who practically bathes in Japanese culture. Meeting yakuzas would probably make his entire year. Can I... book that experience?"

"...."

The next day, Gabriel was almost levitating with joy inside a small ramen shop Julius had "coincidentally" chosen. His eyes sparkled with religious fervor the moment he realized the place was packed wall-to-wall with yakuza members on lunch break.

"They’re everywhere," Gabriel whispered, gripping Julius’s sleeve like a child at Disneyland. "Everywhere, Young Master. We’re surrounded..."

"Sit down. You’re embarrassing."