Kawashima Fukuichiro stood in the center of the lab, the black case pressed tight against his chest. In his other hand he gripped a grenade, his thumb resting lightly on the pin. His gaze was cold and hard, a mocking smile curled at the corner of his mouth — as if the people before him were nothing more than insects, incapable of derailing his plan.
"You think this ends just like that?" Kawashima's voice was low and icy, carrying an authority that brooked no contradiction. "Inside this case are the EASV virus and the vaccine. With a single pull they'll be gone. Tell me — how long do you think the millions of people of Jiangcheng will hold on?"
Fang Zhiguo stood in the doorway, his gun still steady on Kawashima, but a flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. He knew Kawashima was not bluffing. If the virus and the vaccine were destroyed, the outbreak in Jiangcheng would spin out of control — the consequences unimaginable.
"Kawashima Fukuichiro," Fang said, voice calm but firm, "you have nowhere left to go. Put the case down. We can talk terms."
"Talk terms?" Kawashima retorted with a cold laugh, contempt clear in his gaze. "What right do you have to bargain with me? The rules of this game have always been mine to write."
Qin Xiao, standing behind Fang, said softly, "Fang, he's stalling. We have to move now or he might detonate the grenade."
Fang nodded but kept his eyes locked on Kawashima. "Kawashima, even if you destroy the virus and vaccine, you won't get away. Put the case down and we'll ensure you're treated properly."
"Properly?" Kawashima's mouth twisted with scorn. "Do you think I care about being treated 'properly'? My mission is complete — the Empire's future will be written by me. As for you…" His glance swept the assembled team, disdainful, "you're just pieces on a board."
Kawashima Sakurako stood beside Fang, watching her father with a look of tangled emotion. Her fingers were white-knuckled on the hem of her clothes. She could see he had slipped beyond reason; arguments were futile.
"Father," Sakurako's voice trembled, "are you really going to do this? Those innocent people — they have families, children…"
Kawashima's gaze landed on his daughter. For a heartbeat there was something more than fury in it, then coldness hardened again. "Sakurako, you disappoint me. Have you forgotten your duty? You are the heir of the Kawashima house. Your obligation is to the Empire, not to pity these ants."
Pain flickered across Sakurako's face, but she did not back down. "Father, the Empire is gone. What you do now only spreads suffering. Put the case down. End this."
Kawashima's expression darkened. His fingers tightened; the grenade's pin clicked faintly — a small mechanical sound that warned everyone his patience had nearly run out.
Seeing the situation deteriorate, Fang whispered to Qin Xiao, "Prepare to seize him. I'll draw his attention; you take the case."
Qin's eyes flashed with resolve. "Understood."
Fang inhaled and took a measured step forward, his gun still leveled at Kawashima. "Kawashima Fukuichiro, you know you have no escape. Put the case down and we'll give you a dignified end."
"A dignified end?" Kawashima sneered. "Do you think I care?"
Before he finished, Qin lunged from the flank. His movement was a blur — a knife aimed at Kawashima's wrist. He closed the distance in an instant.
Kawashima reacted just as quickly. His body twisted aside, evading Qin's blade, and he raised the grenade high; his thumb pressed the pin.
"Don't move!" Kawashima's voice was a low command that filled the room. "One more step and I detonate."
Qin froze, the knife hanging frozen in the air. His eyes betrayed frustration; he had lost his opening.
Fang's face tightened. He realized Kawashima had fallen into an irretrievable state of madness — any rash move could end in catastrophe.
Then Sakurako stepped forward. She looked straight at her father, voice steady and resolute. "If you insist on doing this, do it with me. Kill us both."
Kawashima's eyes found hers. His hand trembled slightly, as if an inner struggle had begun to tear at him.
"Sakurako," he rasped, "would you betray your family for these people?"
Sakurako didn't answer with words. She closed the distance and laid her hand gently over his wrist, pressing against the grenade. "Father, end it. Empire or no empire, its glory shouldn't be built on the suffering of the innocent."
For a long moment Kawashima's body shook. The cruel hardness in his eyes softened into something that could not be easily named. His fingers loosened; the pin clicked audibly as it released — a small, decisive sound that signaled the standoff's end.
"Sakurako…" his voice drifted, hoarse, distant. "You… after all…"
He did not finish. Suddenly a sharp alarm wailed outside the lab. Armed helicopters appeared in the sky, searchlights slashing through the darkness and bathing the laboratory in harsh brightness.
"Everyone inside, this is a perimeter breach — you are surrounded! Drop your weapons and surrender!" a loudspeaker barked down from one of the helicopters, cold and uncompromising.
Kawashima's face drained of color. His fingers trembled anew. For a fleeting second he seemed to regain the old fanatic glare — then, clearly unhinged, he muttered in a voice that cut through the roar: "Tenno banzai."