Chapter Thirty-six: The Imperial Organization and the End of Cultivation

During Bai Tangjing’s cultivation, a week swiftly passed, and the day for registering as a Kengan fighter finally arrived.

Poison Island Dojo.

“Yagami, if I didn’t know you well, reading your report just now would’ve made me think some third-rate detective was scamming for funds.”

“Well, the truth still floats amidst the mist, but the data I gave you is entirely genuine.”

Bai Tangjing, dressed in loose training attire, sat kneeling in the dim, silent chamber of the dojo, eyes lowered. He was playing Yagami’s call on speakerphone while fiddling with the lighter in his hand. These were the only sources of light in the room.

Scattered around him were dozens of lighters in various shapes and sizes—kerosene, electric, and more. The only thing they shared now was that, as if drained of all power, not one could ignite.

“All right, I’ll leave the scientific debate to the professionals.”

“I thought so too. That’s why I allocated most of the ten million budget to Ninety-Nine and Mr. Brody. By the way, I’ve sent Mrs. Zenaga to stay with an acquaintance in the countryside for the short term. She should be safe. How’s Taijie?”

“Oh? Concerned about your little brother, are you!” Bai Tangjing chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. I’ve now obtained membership in the Kengan Association. Ordinary assassins wouldn’t dare take this job. As for those qualified—the Wu Clan—they’ve already weighed my worth. They don’t do losing business.”

“That’s true,” Yagami sighed on the phone. “And the importance of the Zenaga family is diminishing by the day. They’ll grow safer with time.”

Bai Tangjing fell silent.

Things were just as Yagami said. With Joey Brody, the uninvited guest from the United States, and Ninety-Nine Seiichi, whom Yagami invited, communicating across university networks, the storm of events grew ever larger. The family that had been the spark was now, paradoxically, less endangered.

Yagami continued.

“Actually, I called you today to ask you a question.”

“Oh? I’m neither a detective nor a scholar. What could you want from me?”

“But you’re the closest to high society in my circle when it comes to economics,” Yagami explained jokingly. Then his tone grew serious.

“Have you heard of an organization called the ‘Imperial Group’?”

“No. What is it?” Bai Tangjing replied decisively, certain of his memory thanks to his bio-intelligence.

“Ah! This is troublesome! Even you don’t know!” Yagami sounded frustrated, scratching his head. “By the way, you know Ninety-Nine’s level of electronic expertise, right?”

“Without question, world-class.”

“Well… while using some ‘tricks’ to access the Fukushima facility’s internal network, he found that the nuclear plant’s orders weren’t coming primarily from Tokyo Electric Power Company, but from this ‘Imperial Group’.”

“How is that possible?” Bai Tangjing frowned.

“That’s the reality,” Yagami said, troubled. “Even for the most critical personnel appointments, directives didn’t come from TEPCO headquarters, but from this ‘Imperial Group’.”

As he spoke, an image was sent to Bai Tangjing’s phone. It showed two triangles, set horizontally opposite one another, forming a stylized infinity symbol.

“This is their emblem. To have such control over TEPCO’s core operations—I thought it was some upper-class alliance.”

Bai Tangjing studied the image, finding Yagami’s reasoning sound. After all, reality wasn’t some film or manga; how could a giant organization lurk in the world’s shadows, unseen? Money must flow, personnel must be organized. How could they leave no trace?

This ‘Imperial Group’ seemed, at most, a commercial alliance that managed to carve out a piece of TEPCO through some means. Once he infiltrated high society during the upcoming Kengan Deathmatch, it should not be difficult to trace the origins of this group.

He comforted Yagami in turn.

“Once I enter the Kengan Deathmatch, perhaps this organization will even present itself to me.”

“Let’s hope so,” Yagami sighed heavily. “But the seismic data from Fukushima these past few days is rapidly approaching the intensity seen during the Chernobyl incident. I’m really worried…”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Yagami. The disaster is inevitable. You know this, don’t you?”

Bai Tangjing’s thin lips released icy words.

“A nuclear plant is a colossal project built by the might of an entire nation. Whether running or shutting down, the procedures involved are as vast as a sea of smoke. Even if you had the whole truth and irrefutable evidence in hand, with the way the data is trending, disaster is certain. Reporting to the government is pointless; do you expect the cabinet to order TEPCO? As for the media, public opinion would take at least weeks to ferment.

…We’re too late, Yagami.

What we do now is only for accountability afterward, and to limit the spread of disaster.”

Click.

The lighter in his hand released a warm flame.

But under Bai Tangjing’s gaze, the fire flickered in the windless chamber, growing ever dimmer and weaker…

The thick shadows cast by the firelight grew wild and monstrous, resembling demons.

“It’s so cruel.

The plant’s management knows the data is abnormal, yet they do nothing.

We foresaw the disaster, but it’s already too late.

And the residents—the greatest in number…

Right now, they’re still buying groceries and cooking, thinking tomorrow will be another dull day.”

The cold words caused heavy breathing to come through the phone. Bai Tangjing could almost picture Yagami trembling with anger.

In the end, he let out a defeated sigh, saying nothing more.

The two hung up in silence.

Just then, the chamber door swung open—as if the person outside had waited a long time.

Saeko entered, switching on the lights, carrying a tray of food. Yet, to Bai Tangjing’s surprise, the amount of food on the tray was only enough for an ordinary person.

Her contoured body, even wrapped in casual clothes, remained strikingly alluring. Saeko walked with a swaying gait, placing the tray before Bai Tangjing.

She looked him over, unable to hide her surprise.

“Your weight has fully recovered, even though your appetite dropped so much these past days.”

She said nothing of the conversation that had taken place in the chamber.

Bai Tangjing was content to believe the Poison Island dojo’s chambers had excellent soundproofing.

He did not touch the food on the tray.

Beneath his training clothes, his muscles had regained their fullness and power, surging like waves—stronger even than before.

For the first time in days, Bai Tangjing stood, leaving the chamber.

He stretched, bones cracking like firecrackers.

“Cultivation is over. Let’s go out and eat.

I’ve really worn myself out these days. Until the Deathmatch registration starts, I’ll need some proper rest.”

Saeko’s composed expression brightened with surprise.

She picked up the tray again and followed Bai Tangjing.

Unintentionally, her foot stepped on the spot where Bai Tangjing had been kneeling.

“Indeed, Jing, you’ve grown stronger!”

The beauty looked down at the floor beneath her foot, her gentle, dignified smile slowly fading—replaced by the bloodthirsty, expectant grin unique to ancient sword masters encountering a formidable opponent.

“It’s… truly irresistible!”

The sensation beneath her foot was nothing like soft tatami.

It was as if she had stepped onto a frozen wasteland!