If anyone was panicking the most right now, it had to be the Japanese government. After all, following the United States' crackdown on their painstakingly embedded intelligence operatives, Japan was already fuming. And to add insult to injury, the Americans had leveraged the excuse of espionage to hike up the prices on military procurement contracts. In response, Japan had covertly aligned itself with Amir Barkawi, a man who harbored a deep hatred for the U.S., funneling secret funds, equipment, and intelligence in an audacious plan to create a massive incident in the American capital.
The plan's groundwork was already laid. All they had to do was wait for South Korea's prime minister to depart for Washington next month, with Kang Yeonsak secretly embedded in the delegation as an aide. Once Kang executed the plan, all hell would break loose. To make matters worse, the Japanese intelligence agency had even gained the clandestine support of a shadowy U.S. organization that was disgruntled with President Benjamin Arthur. This group had promised to help by discreetly creating a breach in Washington's no-fly zone, enabling an AC-130 gunship—conveniently provided by Japan—to carry out a deadly attack.
Everything was set. But then, old man Watanabe had to go rogue.
This reckless vendetta, which he orchestrated without consulting Tokyo, had now escalated into a global spectacle. Worse, the live broadcasts from Castle's estate had provided incontrovertible evidence tying Japanese individuals to the attempted attacks. The potential fallout was terrifying. If the ever-opportunistic U.S. government decided to exploit this incident, they could demand an explanation from Tokyo—or worse, uncover Japan's larger conspiracy with Barkawi.
Japanese Prime Minister and Chief Cabinet Secretary were both losing their minds. They cursed Watanabe's recklessness, fully aware of the catastrophic consequences if their covert operation were exposed. Given the United States' propensity for crushing adversaries with overwhelming force, Japan's leadership knew their country would be obliterated diplomatically if this blew up.
And now, Watanabe was missing.
No one could reach him, not since last night.
This uncertainty sent waves of panic through the Japanese government. What if the Americans had already captured him? What if he spilled the beans, unraveling not only the gun-smuggling operation involving the Yakuza but also the top-secret plot with Amir Barkawi? The mere possibility was enough to make Tokyo's leaders break into cold sweats.
Meanwhile, the fallout from Watanabe's actions had already sent shockwaves across the Pacific. Back in the U.S., federal agencies had turned their attention to the Yakuza's operations along the West Coast. Orders from FBI headquarters at the J. Edgar Hoover Building had gone out, instructing field offices in cities like San Francisco and Los Angeles to prepare for a full-scale crackdown on the group, especially since they had dared to use rocket-propelled grenades and anti-tank missiles on U.S. soil.
Over in Tokyo, Japan's Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office scrambled to establish contact with their Yakuza counterparts. The goal was simple: to clean up this mess before it spiraled further out of control. Meanwhile, in San Francisco, the Yakuza's U.S. operations chief was metaphorically banging his head against the wall. How could he have known that merely assisting an old family friend, Watanabe, would drag his organization into this colossal mess? The deaths of Goto Taro and Goto Jiro—the two brothers tasked with carrying out the attack—had turned into a public relations nightmare for the Yakuza.
Back at Castle's estate, however, the man at the center of all this chaos had washed up and gone to bed without a care in the world. While the rest of the world burned with sleepless anxiety—whether in New York, San Francisco, or Tokyo—Castle was enjoying a well-earned rest, blissfully unconcerned about the repercussions of the morning's events.
Why should he be worried?
He'd already decided to let others handle the fallout. If Northrop Grumman, Lockheed Martin, and the military wanted his groundbreaking technology, they'd have to help shield him from international attention. Meanwhile, Castle's relationship with the FBI remained amicable, at least compared to the strained ties he had with the CIA. This meant he wasn't overly concerned about foreign intelligence agencies like MI5 or Mossad trying to target him.
As for the FBI? After interrogating the four captured Yakuza operatives brought back to NYPD headquarters by Beckett, they had already extracted critical information about the group's smuggling operations. Among the revelations were details about three major smuggling routes connecting Canada to New York, used to ferry weapons and personnel. This intel had been promptly escalated to FBI leadership, sparking coordinated raids across multiple field offices, including those on the West Coast.
Even Canada wasn't spared. The FBI's field office in Canada began working with local authorities to track down the remaining individuals associated with the smuggling ring. Intelligence suggested that some members were still stationed on the Canadian side, awaiting the arrival of the now-deceased mercenaries from New York.
Castle knew all this but didn't care. Why should he? He'd already set the wheels in motion. If the FBI decided to take down the Yakuza or use the incident as a pretext to pressure Japan further, that wasn't his concern. In fact, he found it amusing to imagine how this unexpected development might throw a wrench into Japan's secret plan with Barkawi.
Besides, the FBI had their hands full. In addition to the four operatives captured at sea, Castle's AI assistant Jarvis had helped identify another group of six suspects in New York—two of whom had already been arrested. This meant that, aside from the Goto brothers who had been killed during the attack, all ten Yakuza operatives involved in the New York operation were accounted for.
By the time Castle woke up from his afternoon nap, the world had already turned upside down.
When he wandered into the underground supercomputer lab beneath his estate, he found Little Fatty and Ramsey glued to their screens, their faces lit with excitement. The duo was engrossed in online coverage of the past day's events, including the morning's failed attack. They were particularly delighted by the heated online debates sparked by Castle's fiery rant against the so-called Fist of Justice organizations.
These groups, which had been critical of Castle's actions, were now engaged in vicious online arguments with Castle's supporters. Taking advantage of the chaos, Little Fatty and Ramsey—along with Jarvis's assistance—were quietly hacking into the personal computers of the Fist of Justice leaders, hoping to dig up dirt they could weaponize.
By the time Castle arrived, the lab was abuzz with energy.
The underground lab, rarely visited by Castle himself, had become Little Fatty and Ramsey's sanctuary. Since its inception, Castle had ensured that the lab was equipped not only with cutting-edge technology but also with an on-site chef to keep the duo well-fed. As a result, the pair had practically moved in, spending all their time immersed in the digital world.
For them, this was paradise. Access to a supercomputer, an advanced AI, and the freedom to hack into almost any database on the planet? It didn't get any better than this.
Of course, Castle had imposed a few rules—most notably, a strict ban on targeting high-security military or intelligence databases without his explicit permission. But aside from that, the duo had free rein to pursue whatever they wanted.
And now, after the events of the past 24 hours, Castle was beginning to see just how valuable their skills were. With Little Fatty, Ramsey, and Jarvis working together, Castle had a potent team capable of not only defending his reputation online but also launching devastating counterattacks against anyone foolish enough to challenge him.
Smiling at the scene, Castle thought to himself: Maybe being hands-off isn't such a bad thing after all.