Blood dripped from the table, pooling on the floor. The teahouse owner gasped for air, clutching the bleeding stump of his right wrist. Shinjiro wiped his blade with a napkin, squinting at the steel before tossing the cloth onto the broken porcelain. "Bring the box. Move it."An operative stepped forward, placing a red wooden box on the table. Shinjiro picked up the severed hand, dropped it inside, and slapped the brass latch shut. The lock clicked."Listen to me, you old bastard," Shinjiro crouched, grabbing the bleeding owner by his hair. "You’re carrying this package straight to Dominic."The owner nodded frantically, sweat soaking his face."Tell him Ichiro wants him on his knees," Shinjiro sneered, shoving the red box into the man's good arm."And tell him if he refuses," Shinjiro stood up, pointing at the shattered door, "our top hitters are coming for his neck next. We got the heavy guns, and I'll turn his estate into an absolute cemetery. Now get out of here and deliver the m
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