"Yo, George."
"Wilson? A rare guest."
Inside a villa in Tokyo's Shinagawa district, George sat in the living room watching TV while leisurely sipping an aged brandy he had just opened.
The one visiting him today wasn't the usual Japanese politician or zaibatsu magnate, but Wilson, someone from the same organization.
Without any polite words between them, Wilson picked up the brandy on the coffee table, poured himself a glass, and sat beside George.
An elderly man in his sixties and a middle-aged man in his forties—they seemed ordinary, but were once the backbone of the organization.
Although the IW Senate had fifteen members, the organization had originally been founded by Rinji's father together with these two. The true elders numbered only three.
After finishing a glass, Wilson sighed.
"It failed."
"What failed?"
"Convincing the young master to take over the organization. From the way he looks, he has no intention of becoming its leader," Wilson said, lowering his head. "Looks like my next step is to kneel and beg him."
"If little Rinji doesn't want to inherit the organization, then he doesn't. He has his own life he wants to live."
"If he doesn't, IW will rot. George, you don't seriously think that brat Sagara can handle things, do you?"
"What else can we do? The boss designated him as the heir," George replied. "And you should know, even if Sagara annoys me, he's still more capable than any of us. How many in the Senate are qualified to even touch that position?"
"You could try, George. You followed the boss the longest."
"A man about to go into his grave taking over? This isn't electing the President of the United States, it's choosing a leader for the organization," George laughed. "Has anyone else been considered?"
"I looked briefly at the people around the young master."
Wilson lit a cigarette and handed the pack to George, who took one and lit it.
Exhaling smoke, Wilson continued. "I glanced at the Shuchiin student council he's part of. There's a former prime minister's great-granddaughter, the daughter of a Supreme Court judge, the son of a toy company president… all people with obvious affiliations. They can't be used."
"And the other two?"
"The Shinomiya Zaibatsu head's daughter, Shinomiya Kaguya? Out of the question. Forget that her family crossing the young master and still having survivors is already a miracle. Putting that old dog's direct bloodline in charge of the organization? George, have you lost it?"
"I was only asking. Of course I know the Shinomiya family's long been blacklisted."
"The last one…"
Wilson hesitated slightly.
"Shirogane Miyuki."
"That kid's pretty close to little Rinji. He even served as acting bank president once," George chuckled.
"I investigated him. Very capable across the board."
Wilson shook his head.
"But no. He'd do well working in my department, but as the successor to the organization? He's still lacking."
"Lacking what?"
"Too kind."
"…"
"That kid is even kinder than Sagara. Maybe that's why the young master is close to him. But because of that kindness, he can never lead the organization," Wilson said with a bitter smile. "Honestly, I'm starting to think choosing someone from around the young master was a dumb plan. A bunch of kids raised in peace can't even step into our world, let alone lead it."
"Kindness isn't such a bad thing."
"Then let's just keep Sagara in the boss's seat. His decisions are overly cautious, but never wrong," Wilson said, narrowing his eyes. "George, you know well. Does the organization thrive on kindness? Don't forget what we did in Yerkastem."
"I know. The massacre."
Back then, to establish their factories and seize power in a chaotic nation, IW took a bloody path—wiping out ninety percent of a city's population and pinning the blame on its leader.
"That city was filled with crime, but the boss's decision terrified even me. Still, because of it, the organization became what it is today. After all, we were the kind who could 'live on as heroes'," Wilson said. "Tell me, of those high schoolers I just mentioned, who among them could discard their humanity to make such a decision?"
"I doubt even we know anyone who could do what the boss did back then…"
"The young master could."
"…"
"You know it too. He inherited the boss's ruthlessness," Wilson said, smiling unconsciously. "At first, I wanted to see him as just a normal child. But the moment he struck at the Shinomiya family four years ago, I finally woke up. The heir we've always awaited is right beside us."
"You…"
"Do you have any idea how thrilled I was when the young master purged the Shinomiyas? He even warned us ahead of time to short their industries and shift our assets away. That mix of madness and calculation—it's exactly like the boss!" Wilson said excitedly. "I thought I was witnessing the awakening of a demon. But… he stopped. Why did he stop? Why are Shinomiyas still alive? I don't understand…"
"Shit!"
George suddenly grabbed Wilson by the collar.
"You bastard, are you drunk? What do you take little Rinji for? A tool?"
"Watch your mouth, George. I can treat you and Sagara as tools, but never the young master."
Wilson clamped down on George's hand, his eyes cold as ice.
"But you, George—have you gone soft from living in Japan too long? When the young master decided to wipe out the Shinomiyas, you only supported it."
"…"
"You know it deep down. What the organization needs is a demon. After the boss stepped down, no one was satisfied because we all had the courage to walk with demons, but not the courage to become one."
"Hah… maybe you're right."
George released Wilson, sat back on the sofa, rubbing his forehead.
Wilson loosened his collar and said, "If the young master truly becomes a peaceful man, we'll figure something else out. But I think there's still a chance."
"Hm?"
"After seeing you today, I'll head to Kyoto. It's what the young master instructed me before he returned home."
"Huh? I didn't hear about that."
"Shuchiin is going to Kyoto, and that Shinomiya girl seems to be going too," Wilson said with a grin. "The young master clearly has no intention of letting the Shinomiyas go."