Dazai X Chuuya || Dark Reflections

A New Player

Part 12: A New Player

The rain continued its relentless drumming as Dazai and Chuuya disappeared into the shadows, leaving the now-abandoned warehouse behind them. The sniper's sudden attack had turned a routine mission into something much more complicated—and dangerous. Whoever their enemy was, they were playing on an entirely different level.

"We need to figure out who that sniper was," Chuuya muttered as they moved through the dimly lit streets, his sharp eyes scanning the rooftops. "They were fast, precise. That was no amateur."

Dazai nodded absentmindedly, his gaze distant. "I expected Mori to send us into a trap, but this... This is something else. I wonder how deep this goes."

Chuuya shot him a sidelong glance. "You think Mori knew about this?"

Dazai smirked. "He always knows more than he lets on. The question is, how much of this is part of his plan, and how much is someone else's?"

The sound of distant footsteps interrupted their conversation. Instinctively, both men fell silent, slipping into the shadows of an alleyway. A group of figures emerged from the fog, moving quickly through the narrow streets. They were dressed in black, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Chuuya tensed, ready for a fight, but Dazai placed a hand on his shoulder, signaling him to wait.

"Let's see where they're going," Dazai whispered, his eyes narrowing.

The two followed the group from a distance, their movements quiet and deliberate. The figures led them deeper into the heart of the city, where the streets were darker and more dangerous. It wasn’t long before they arrived at an old, run-down building, its windows boarded up and its entrance barely visible beneath layers of graffiti.

Chuuya frowned. “This place looks abandoned.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Dazai said, his voice low.

As they watched, the figures disappeared inside the building. Dazai motioned for Chuuya to follow him, and they crept closer, sticking to the shadows. When they reached the entrance, Dazai pressed his ear to the door, listening intently.

“They’re meeting someone,” he whispered after a moment. “Sounds like it’s a negotiation of some kind.”

Chuuya scowled. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s crash the party.”

Before Dazai could respond, the door creaked open, and a figure stepped out. Instantly, Chuuya moved, his reflexes sharp, pinning the man against the wall in a single, fluid motion. “Who are you working for?” Chuuya growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The man, wide-eyed with fear, stammered. “I—I don’t know! I swear, I’m just a runner! Please, don’t kill me!”

Dazai stepped forward, leaning close to the man, his expression deceptively calm. “Then tell us who sent you.”

The runner’s eyes flicked nervously between Dazai and Chuuya before he finally spoke. “We’re working for someone new. I don’t know their name, but they’ve been pulling the strings in the shadows. They’ve got a network—spies, assassins, you name it. The Port Mafia isn’t the only game in town anymore.”

Dazai exchanged a glance with Chuuya. A new player, just as Mori had hinted. This was no ordinary rival. Whoever they were, they were well-organized, well-funded, and dangerous enough to challenge even the Port Mafia.

Chuuya tightened his grip on the man’s collar. “Where are they operating from? Who’s your contact?”

The runner hesitated, fear flashing in his eyes. “I—I can’t say! If they find out I talked—”

“You’ll wish you had,” Dazai finished for him, his tone light but with an underlying edge that made the runner pale.

“There’s a club,” the runner blurted out, panic taking over. “In the western district. It’s a front for their operations. If you want answers, that’s where you’ll find them.”

Chuuya glanced at Dazai, his expression grim. “We’ll get the answers, all right.”

Dazai smiled, releasing the runner with a casual wave of his hand. “Run along now, before we change our minds.”

The man didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted down the alley, disappearing into the night.

As soon as he was gone, Chuuya turned to Dazai. “So, a club, huh? You think this is legit?”

Dazai shrugged. “It’s the only lead we’ve got. And if it’s a front, it’ll be crawling with informants. Perfect place for us to gather some information.”

Chuuya grinned, the adrenaline of the hunt already pumping through his veins. “Good. It’s about time we got to the bottom of this.”

---

The club in the western district was as nondescript as the rest of the city’s underground establishments. From the outside, it looked like any other bar frequented by those looking to lose themselves in the haze of alcohol and dim lighting. But Dazai and Chuuya knew better. The moment they stepped inside, they felt the tension in the air—the quiet murmur of conversations that stopped when strangers entered, the way the patrons watched them with wary eyes.

“They’re expecting trouble,” Chuuya muttered under his breath as they made their way to the bar.

Dazai smiled, leaning casually against the counter. “Good. It means we’re in the right place.”

They ordered drinks, their eyes scanning the room for anyone who looked like they might know more than the average patron. It wasn’t long before a man approached them, his expression cold and calculating.

“You two don’t belong here,” he said, his voice low.

Chuuya smirked. “Oh, we belong here just fine. The question is, do you?”

The man’s eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Dazai stepped in, his voice smooth as silk. “We’re just looking for someone. Maybe you can help us out.”

The man crossed his arms. “And who might that be?”

Dazai leaned in, his tone dropping to a whisper. “Your boss. The one who’s been causing all this chaos.”

For a split second, the man’s composure cracked. He quickly recovered, but it was too late—Dazai had seen the flicker of recognition in his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about,” Dazai said softly. “Why don’t you make this easy and tell us what we need to know?”

The man took a step back, but Chuuya was already behind him, blocking his escape. “We don’t have all night.”

Realizing he was cornered, the man sighed. “There’s a meeting tonight. It’s happening in the back room. But if you go in there uninvited—”

“We’ll take our chances,” Chuuya interrupted, pushing the man aside.

Dazai smiled as they made their way toward the back of the club, the tension in the air thickening with every step. “Looks like we’re about to meet our new player.”

Chuuya’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Let’s hope they’re ready for us.”