"What happened?"
Hayashi Shuichi and Yusaku Kudo exchanged a sharp look before sprinting back toward the gallery they had just left.
Chikage Tomizawa moved to follow, her curiosity piqued, but Shuichi quickly blocked her path.
"Stay here and look after Reiko and the boys!"
Chikage bit her lip, reluctantly halting her steps. She turned back, positioning herself protectively in front of the three children.
When Shuichi and Yusaku burst into the gallery, the sight before them made their pupils contract.
The once-orderly hall was in utter shambles. Tourists were huddled on the floor in terror, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, barely daring to breathe. The two security guards who had been stationed by the Mount Fuji painting were sprawled on the ground, motionless.
Three thugs wearing hideous, leering masks were in control of the scene. Two of them brandished handguns, their eyes scanning the crowd with predatory malice, while the third was fumbling with the wall mount, desperately trying to detach the priceless Mount Fuji.
With the rest of the crowd pinned to the floor, Shuichi and Yusaku, who had just rushed in, became immediate targets.
"Freeze! One more step and I'll blow your brains out!"
The taller of the gunmen immediately leveled his weapon at the two men.
Shuichi and Yusaku had no choice but to stop. They slowly raised their hands and lowered themselves into a crouch alongside the other tourists.
"Hurry it up, you idiot!" the shorter gunman barked at his accomplice.
"I'm trying!" the yellow-haired thug yelled back, sweat drenching his mask as he struggled with the frame. "The painting is locked into some kind of security mechanism. It won't budge!"
"Dammit!"
The shorter thug, clearly the most volatile of the bunch, cursed loudly. He suddenly lashed out, kicking a shivering female tourist beside him. The woman let out a piercing shriek, curling into a ball as she clutched her abdomen.
"Please! Do not harm the visitors!"
Director Ochiai, whom they had spoken to earlier, stood up from the crowd.
"Are you looking for a grave?! Did I tell you to move?"
The short robber raised his gun and fired a shot into the ceiling. BANG!
The thunderous roar of the gunshot sent the tourists into a fresh wave of hysterics. Screams filled the air, and the gallery descended into a state of pure, unadulterated panic.
"Shut up! Every last one of you! If I hear another peep, the first person to make a sound gets a bullet!" the tall thug shrieked, waving his gun erratically across the crowd.
"I... I am the director of this museum!" Director Ochiai's face was deathly pale, and his lips trembled, but he forced the words out. "Please, spare the guests."
"I don't give a damn who you are!"
The short thug lunged forward, grabbing Ochiai by his collar and dragging him roughly out of the crowd. He pressed the cold muzzle of his gun against the Director's thigh. "If I don't give you people a lesson, you'll keep thinking we're just playing around, won't you?"
"Wait! Don't shoot!" the yellow-haired thug at the wall shouted, his eyes lighting up. "He's the director—he must know how to release the lock! Make him do it!"
The short thug realized the logic in that. He shoved the gun into Ochiai's back, forcing him toward the display. "Did you hear him? Get the painting down! Now!"
"This..."
Hesitation clouded Ochiai's face. The Mount Fuji was worth over two hundred million yen, and the Beika Art Museum had only managed to secure it through extensive personal connections. If it were stolen, the museum would face not only a financial catastrophe but total reputational ruin.
"Move it! Stop stalling!"
The short robber snarled. Seeing Ochiai's lingering doubt, he pivoted and aimed his gun directly at a nearby tourist. "I'm counting to three. If that painting isn't down, don't blame me for what happens next!"
The tourist at the end of the barrel slumped, their legs turning to jelly, looking at Ochiai with eyes full of desperate, silent pleading.
"I'll do it! I'll do it!"
Ochiai nodded frantically, his voice cracking.
Under the watchful eyes of the three criminals, he stepped forward and pressed a hidden button concealed on the side of the display stand. With a sharp click, the security clamps released.
The yellow-haired robber let out a cheer of triumph and reached out to grab the masterpiece.
As the other two robbers saw success within their reach, greedy smiles spread across their faces. For a split second, their attention shifted entirely toward the painting in their comrade's hands.
In that fleeting moment of distraction, Hayashi Shuichi and Yusaku Kudo—who had been subtly inching closer to the front of the crowd—exchanged a silent signal. With perfect synchronization, they lunged.
Shuichi delivered a lightning-fast, precise kick that sent the tall thug's handgun flying across the room. Before the man could even register the loss, Shuichi seized his arm, executed a fluid shoulder throw that slammed the man into the floor, and pinned him down with a knee buried deep into his back.
Simultaneously, Yusaku Kudo moved with the grace of a professional, disarming the shorter thug in a blur of motion and neutralizing him with a textbook grappling hold.
The two criminals let out groans of agony, completely blindsided by the sudden reversal.
The yellow-haired thug on the platform, who had just pulled the Mount Fuji into his arms, froze as he saw his partners neutralized. In a panic, he dropped the painting and fumbled for the pistol tucked into his waistband.
In that split second, Director Ochiai, who was closest to him, lunged forward. He grabbed the thug's legs and yanked with all his might, pulling him off the platform.
Thud!
The yellow-haired thug hit the floor hard. Ochiai moved to pin him, but at that exact moment, a figure suddenly bolted from the crowd of tourists.
"My painting! My painting!"
It was Master Hosui Kisaragi. He dove toward the painting the thug had dropped, his face a mask of frantic worry, but he collided head-on with Director Ochiai.
Ochiai was knocked aside with a pained grunt, while Master Kisaragi tumbled directly into the yellow-haired thug.
The criminal seized the opportunity. He wrapped a thick arm around Kisaragi's neck, pulling the elderly man up as a human shield while jamming his handgun hard against the Master's temple.
"Let my friends go right now, or I'll kill him!" the thug screamed, his voice reaching a hysterical pitch.
His finger was white-knuckled against the trigger, looking as if the slightest flinch would cause the weapon to discharge.
Shuichi immediately held up a hand, his voice calm and steady. "Easy now. Let's talk this through. You only have one hostage, while we have two of your—"
BANG!
Another deafening shot cut Shuichi off. The thug had fired into the ceiling again, sending shards of plaster raining down like snow.
"Let them go! Don't you think for a second I won't pull this trigger!" the robber shrieked, his eyes wide and manic. "If we're going down, we're taking someone with us!"
"Since this old geezer is the one who painted this thing, he must be worth a fortune! If we kill him, even spending decades in prison will be worth it!"
Shuichi glanced at Yusaku Kudo, who slowly shook his head.
Yusaku had the short thug's gun, but he was currently occupied holding his own captive. More importantly, the yellow-haired thug was positioned perfectly behind Master Kisaragi, the muzzle of the gun pressed firmly against the old man's head. Even for someone as skilled as Yusaku, there was no clear angle to take the shot without risking the hostage's life...
Note:
Happy Lunar New Year 2026!
First of all, I want to express my sincere gratitude to all of you for always being by my side and supporting me throughout this journey.
To ensure the quality of upcoming stories, I've decided to take a week off during the Lunar New Year (February 15th to 22nd) to rest and spend time with my family.
I will return on February 23rd, 2026. During this break, I will prepare many new chapters to post regularly upon my return. So please look forward to it!
Wishing you a warm, joyful, and wonderful holiday season!