Chapter Text
Coffee, bread and labor. The smell of detergent. A whistle of the wind playing in one's ears at the top of this skyscraper of a building. Anything that was missing from that initial trifecta on Yafya's desk wouldn't be a proper start to the morning. There was nothing like an honest day of work. Progress and productivity was the objective of pushing oneself forward, despite the obstacles or challenges ahead on that path towards improvement. Without progress there would be nothing that could improve. Change would be turned into something superfluous and meaningless. Inertia is decline. Yafya had to deal with the ugly, the vile and the downright deplorable at the cost of his happiness, yet he carried on out of a sense of duty for his people.
Even when that included sifting through all these pages filled with the most despicable of monsters and creatures imaginable. Within that bundle of stomach-churning horrors on his office desk, there were dozens of cases that showcased exactly how depraved these so-called 'civilized' beasts could be. Each new one more horrifying than the last. The hesitance to flip to the next page growing by every line read. "A Javan rhinoceros stepping on smaller beasts out of sadistic fun and hatred for carnivores, an Iceland gull poisoning their coworkers over an office dispute, a red fox found devouring a goose schoolgirl classmate in her bedroom while her parents were asleep. Alas for the goose that trusts a fox… It never fucking ends", Yafya admonished with disgust, his eyes turning to pinpricks when he saw their unapologetic, self-absorbed mugshots glistening with unabashed wickedness. "Scourges to this world are still roaming my clean streets with impunity. Impeding our efforts at every turn. Those repulsive maggots should rot."
Both sides of their respective orders were still rife with defects, derelicts and the deranged. Megafauna who think they can act with indemnity out of superiority and small carnivores with their self-internalized inferiority act giving into their repugnant vices… The two trying to drown another in a vicious sea of rage and revenge. Captained by their own malevolence and unquenched thirst for spilling blood—gripping and clawing at the poisoned chalice, despite knowing that its contents will eat them from the inside. "Many young carnivores hide their carnivorous traits as they grow up. Those repressed urges eventually coming to the forefront in monstrous ways we cannot even fathom", Yafya recalled from his conversation with a youth psychologist, analysing and helping both sides, long ago. "Many have given into apathy and nihilism. Reportedly, a small group of likeminded youngsters no longer cares anymore for carnivores eating meat, and that number has been on a steady increase for the past thirty years. Giving no more thought for one another's pain and hardship; accepting it as is."
A true victim didn't exist. Neither party is completely blameless in their pursuit of dominance. Whether they want to admit it or not: Carnivores and Herbivores were two sides of the same coin. Fighting for what they want without any consideration for the ripples in the water. Some of them might cause a tidal wave, and others might incur the wrath of a tsunami neither of them can escape. These weren't the first instances and they definitely wouldn't be the last. A vicious circle will always proceed to drag them back down like a whirlpool. One which hadn't allowed them even the slightest bit of leeway in finding an escape for thousands of years. Their society was trapped—but whom was stuck in a cage with whom? Those that had the claws to rend others to shreds, or those possessing the blunt force to ground others to dust? Unfortunately, a great amount of the incidents detailed in this binder were just from this month alone. In more than a hundred years of being at odds with one another—none of them have learned a thing about respect for life.
Coexistence was only possible through mutual esteem and collaboration. If only things were so easy. Black and white morality is a shallow and uneducated way of thinking only reserved for the slobbering savages under the poverty line. In a world as intrinsically complicated and divided as theirs—such a luxury doesn't exist. From the moment their society became a civilization, things would never return to being so simple. Complications would always arise even if they fixed their most glaring problems. Radicals, extremists, speciesists, terrorists… It never ends. All the map binders filled with cases on the shelves of this office paint the clearest picture of this world. "After all, we're still monsters in the clothes that we wear", Yafya mused aloud, knowing the Cornered Rats weren't anywhere near him at that time, shoving that particular file into the second lowest drawer inside his wooden desk and taking out a new one. "Whoever figures otherwise should probably become an environmentalist to have something different to worry about. Becoming better through mutual understanding… Perish the thought."
One will always figure themselves above the other as long as concepts including free thought exists and many left in their wake will follow their example. The Black Market is the antithesis of everything their society openly stood for, but it was also a compromise that must be respected—lest those who are the most ferocious and untamed amongst them set their sights on what's outside those rundown neighborhoods. Demons to some, and angels to others. It was a curse as much as it was a blessing. A strong anchor in a raging storm on sea that never yielded, preventing the ship from sinking altogether at the cost of stagnation. Even though it came at the expense of carnivores and herbivores both profiting off of one another's suffering without so much as a single fleeting regret.
It was miles better than the alternative, many would figure. Carnivores massacring in the streets, herbivores using any and all means to defend themselves and the innocents caught in-between. A war would be waged the likes of which can only be compared to the mythological battles of legend—such as the one between Vanaheim and Asgard. Yafya has yet to see the end of what they're all capable of, and if he beseeches himself dictator to quell this society's worst, then so be it. "Whoever said that only carnivores were blights on society was dead wrong", Yafya mused, allowing himself a glance backwards through the window and onto the bustling city below. "Herbivores such as I can be our own worst enemy." Every single time, their vices had held them back from becoming something more than beasts who've just met each other halfway out of necessity.
Envy, pride, fear and jealousy… Those were all the preliminary signs which led to nothing but anarchy, violence and suffering. Both sides of the spectrum craved what they couldn't have. It had taken barely a month within this position to realize that integral truth; something that kept their society together with what almost appeared to be dental floss. It's much better to face these kind of things with a sense of poise and rationality. Friendship and animosity are ordained to be lines razor thin. As a retrospective, it couldn't be described more spot-on or succinct an assessment. The best of intentions can be overshadowed by the worst of consequences. Cherryton Academy's Trinity Killings are an example of how frail and fragile this balance is. If they had at all allowed them earlier access within the student files instead of being bombarded by whataboutism and idealistic drabble…
They might've been able to arrest the wrongdoers involved before everything went awry. In this decrepit universe, some things just aren't meant to be. They were being held at gunpoint by the laws nature had governed since the very beginning. Rood wasn't lying when he said those lawyers were holding them back, but none of that held any real weight now. What they had currently was nowhere near enough to make an impactful arrest, and a concrete follow-up to further their investigation even less so. Distracting the media with a scapegoat to blame was a ramification of their initial investigation's incompetence. It would have to serve its purpose. No bar was too low, and no cost was too great. They knelt in front of his throne—unaware that it was built from nothing but lies.
Nevertheless, Yafya still had other, more important irons in the fire. Namely a grizzly bear named Shuichi barging through the door without cadence and a playfulness that made Yafya want to hurl. "Yeah, yeah! I'm here already. Don't use that intercom thing again. Just text me like a normal beast would. Anyways, you wanted to see me, Yafya?" A greeting without so much as a frivolity or formality in sight. If it was anyone else, the equid would've had half a mind to kick them through the huge window behind him. A decade passed and they are still as impertinent and blasé as ever. Completely without shame. Their police department's newest Chief Commander of the main precinct had finally managed to drag his heavy ass through the elevator doors and into his office. Even though a tank top and ripped jeans weren't all that proper for a Sublime Beastar like himself to wear in public—it wasn't like this was a formal meeting anyway, let alone an official one.
Unlike the bear, who was fitted with a proper police uniform tailored exactly to his size, but black instead of blue to make it easier to differentiate between rank. That armadillo who made it to size certainly outdid herself. Two months it had been and Shuichi was already raking in better numbers regarding arrests than that dog had managed within a year. Although, that wasn't exactly saying much considering how badly everything was managed by his predecessor before their untimely departure. "Good afternoon, Shuichi", Yafya says. "Please, have a seat. We have some important matters to discuss and I want you to brief me on a few things." None involving any pleasures or niceties, of that they could be both assured. Policing was a dirty undignified job that exposed you to all manner of creatures and crazies.
Meetings such as this always pertained to the rot eating away at this world like rust to metal. Every breath was dedicated to making this world a better place for the next generation. Days blended together into months, and months into years. There was no telling for how much longer his plight could continue unperturbed, so they might as well go back to the drawing board and pray this world was not going to engage them in coitus more than it already has. Shuichi walked in further making it no secret he was admiring the artefacts littered about as he neared. "I suppose so. You really did raise hell and high water to have me come all the way here from my previous station to fill in your new role of… whatever the fuck this is." Whomever taught that brute speech should be liberated from their limbs. Even nowadays, after decades, Shuichi had no respect for seniority. Carefree and confident in ways that others both admired and loathed. Oftentimes flying off the handle and doing something his way, despite how many people his lack of regard might piss off.
What's worse is that it appeared to work out in his favor most instances. Shuichi would get a slap on wrist at most, due to whatever argument one could crop up being rendered null by the bear's success. It's difficult to argue against a job well done; even if the means towards attaining the end result were unconventional. After all, change only affects those who can be bothered to roll with its effects. Furthermore, it must have a reason to occur to begin with—if it's not beneficial to who it applies to there's realistically no point. Thus remaining crass as ever, even despite all the opportunities to make a difference, was really the only conclusion they'd end up with. As much as Yafya doesn't always liken himself too much to carnivores with their comings and goings, there is no denying that within settings such as these they serve as an excellent symbiosis.
Carnivores are capable of filling in the blank spaces where his mind cannot reach by itself and vice versa. The enemy of your enemy is your friend. At least it meant transparency instead of social hopscotch with a kiss ass dog. "Time sure flies when one is busy. How have you been adjusting?", Yafya inquired without an inflection hinting at formality. What's oftentimes underestimated is gauging whether or not someone is suitable for a position they work in. You can look at data, logistics and other factors during their reign to make an informed assessment, but that won't tell you anything about their state of mind or whether or not they'll crash and burn midway through the first half-year.
Such things were better to come from Shuichi than anyone else. One might be deceived by how much cunning that cheerful, loafing smile of his hides. The grizzly's disposition and posture remained unchanged in its looseness, unlike the rigidity you would expect from an soldier—almost as if he wasn't ex-military at all. "Eh, fine, I guess", Shuichi replied offhandedly, leaning on his left leg for support. Not looking him straight in the eye. "Former MPs rarely become police officers, you know? Let alone get themselves promoted so quickly to big boy positions. I think I've gained an insight as to why, but I'll spare you that boring lecture." That wouldn't serve neither of them any purpose. Yafya had read up on the bear's track record and references—to not acknowledge the accolades he received from his former employers would be selling him short.
It's also ironic how he only committed to the military police for a few years before joyfully skipping towards the privatised sector and earning the majority of his money there judging from his tax returns. Not that it was a bad decision. Financially speaking, it was more of the logically sound ones to make. Many agencies would be lucky to have someone of Shuichi's caliber within their ranks. Henceforth why Yafya felt it prudent to pull him back within his wheelhouse. "Come on, Shuichi. You couldn't turn that payment plan and benefits package down. I needed someone dedicated to fill in this role. Waiting for a suitable candidate to replace Rood ought to have been a bureaucratic nightmare otherwise", Yafya told, closing a drawer while barely glancing upwards. "I didn't want an herbivore afraid of their own shadow or a dog who only aims to please. I want someone willing to take risks and clean up ship through their vision—not mine."
Even if it came at the cost of throwing Yafya for a whirl, blindsiding and upsetting him initially; it could be argued that it was unparalleled in its usefulness compared to what that mutt could offer him. The horse would rather have a large carnivore who opposed him and brought new ideas to the forefront, than a loyal dog who'd only dance to his tune and follow his word like gospel. "Now let's pray this one won't disappoint me", Yafya presumed internally. A mischievous dog must be tied short, a good one should obey and a useless one should be culled. It's a good thing they cut their losses with that one. Doing this for the better part of thirty years has taught Yafya some valuable insights. Ideas need to bounce off one another before coming to terms and garnering a resolution. Concessions are how the world kept spinning, even at the top of the ladder.
One beast holding absolute power without challenge is a recipe for disaster. The grizzly bear sat down in the opposite chair that oddly enough appeared to fit him down to his body shape. Something that told him this was more than a courtesy call. Shuichi continued the conversation henceforth, completely neutral despite his own discomfort of being placated towards. "Our ideologies couldn't be any more different, Yafya. I know you're not the type to let bygones be bygones. Part of you probably still hates my guts for all the shit I pulled back in the barracks during my cadet days, but I reckon that's why you reached out in the first place." Twenty years of not having seen one another and Shuichi was still a naysaying, contrarian brat deep down. Just in slightly older skin, engaged and blessed with a daughter.
Age hasn't seemed to dull the bear one bit. Nearing forty-three and still having that youthful vitality was something to be admired—but also admonished by those who have already spend most of their life force on pursuing the exact same thing. Yafya might just be a year over fifty, but he wished he could've remained as laid back and tenacious as Shuichi. What good another decade of vitality could mean for him and the world at large. Yafya lamented a little at the loss of his own dexterity, "Only training can keep me relatively close to my prime now." So many wrongs had yet to be righted in this inherently broken system and he couldn't do it all from this chair. Neither could he trust this meager institution to do their diligence against this world thrust into chaos without an end in sight. An eternal ordeal stemming from the most pure-hearted sense of idealism taken shape as a goal to beat them all.
Society has yet to achieve its perfect form, and can improve little by little through sacrifice and dedication. Only an unshakable balance could maintain an equilibrium strong enough to hold. One from the outside, especially other parts of Japan, would have no clue how hideous this city could be. Yafya was the counterweight to hold it all together. Even if that meant allying himself with the demons that haunt this world so. In his thirty years of plight to protect the city—its bulwarks have buckled but once. The assault staved off, yet not without cost. The horse's veneer remained unchanged under Shuichi's scrutiny. "Personal opinions were forfeit during the vetting process", Yafya clarified tersely, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. "Candidates were picked, appraised and tested based on competence, intelligence, precision, image projection and ruthlessness. You scored highest during that assessment. Nothing more, nothing less."
Perhaps he was being a tad deceitful about the broader scope of his intentions with the bear. Infuriatingly enough, Shuichi held himself and those he cared for in higher regard due to having something which many of their officers lacked: Standards. Yafya nearly snorted at the thought, "One in a million and you haven't even won the lottery." Competence was hard to come by with how lazy these newer generations have been getting. All they do is find increasingly asinine ways to waste their own time—no shade towards any donkeys, of course. Some even find the prospect of working for longer than ten hours ludicrous. Life was only worth living if you gave everything you have towards doing what you love. If Shuichi smelled even a sniff of nepotism on their end—he'd probably resign on the spot.
A prospect Yafya would consider an utter travesty. This department has been starving for someone who isn't afraid of getting their hands dirty. Especially now that the balance of power was being disturbed by those that threatened to uproot it. Combat and tactical intelligence were something they needed to counteract the enemy willing to pull this city under. Many a bear Yafya had faced within his lifetime, but none were anywhere near the same level of finesse and precision combat-wise compared to the current Chief Commander. Decades ago, Shuichi was forced to stand his ground for ten minutes of sparring against him as punishment for insubordination and recklessness. Yafya figured he would beat that stubbornness out of him. Yet, he kept absorbing a barrage of kicks and punches as if it was play. Most begrudging of all is that the bear seemed to be having fun and Yafya doesn't want to admit that he hasn't found such a thrill since…
Nobody else has ever neared as close in being considered a rival, except for he who shall not be thought of or otherwise named. Shuichi guffawed exuberantly. "Not buying that shit if it was sprinkled with gold. If find it poetic you go to such lengths to assure me. You're still a controlling delegator, aren't you, Yafya? Types like you never change", the bear told with little regard of his position in the social hierarchy, without so much as a flinch when he realized who he was talking to. "Let's not get sidetracked. I have a meeting in half an hour." Looks like he got rid of that habit at least. Tardiness and being intentionally late was one of his most memorable albeit maddening qualities. Now his concerns evolved to being on time for the organized crimes briefing, of course. Shuichi was uncharacteristically punctual for someone that makes it a habit to be tardy, even when he arrived he was five minutes early.
It was a relief to know he was taking this entire debacle somewhat seriously. Unlike the incidents he was responsible for or involved in during previous deployments. Crisis management was nowhere near reaching its conclusion and the crooks scheming in the shadows of the darkened alleyways were not gonna wait for them to catch up. Never a better time than now to get started. Yafya nodded in agreement. "Yes, indeed. I am and I always will be. Divide and conquer is a creed I live by. You were there seven years ago with your men, and everyone—including you—saw it worked excellently", the horse grinned with self-satisfaction, omitting the rest of the story and switching it up. "Enough reminiscing about old times. Onto the first order of business… I heard there was little in the way of progress regarding the Gyoen Garden Incident. Any details I should be aware of?"
Minus the obvious facts, of course. A Sichuan Takin named Guo, an herbivore that has become increasingly rare in Japan over the last few decades, up and disappeared from the park somewhere around midnight about one and a half months ago. Without so much as trace as to where he went—leaving his son of four months to the mercy of the elements for about an hour before it was called in by a concerned passerby. Who thankfully, even though he was an ocelot, took care of the poor child by placing his jacket over them. Yafya couldn't help but smile back when he initially read that. "This world hasn't gone entirely rotten just yet. Empathy and compassion are still alive. It's worth saving if good out there exists." However, his father was still nowhere to be seen. Much to the concern of his wife and extended family who are already fearing the worst and not without precedent. Guo was a deeply caring and humble fellow. Someone who wouldn't and couldn't just disappear.
From the moment they first approached the scene, investigators, who judged things by the evidence left behind, figured it an attempted devouring turned possible kidnapping. A case that has gripped the police department in a stranglehold for a while now. Mainly due to its oddity and lack of evidence left behind at the scene. The ministry of culture especially wanted the perpetrator who committed such sacrilegious crimes on historical grounds to be apprehended immediately with prejudice. "Gyoen Gardens—oh, you're talking about Silver Lake. My bad for the confusion", Shuichi apologized halfheartedly, scratching the back of his head while in thought. "We figured it was a random attack. Whoever was responsible didn't gain access to the property through the conventional methods and knew their way around their own fangs and claws."
Carnivores and their naming conventions have eluded Yafya since the beginning of his reign as Beastar. Whatever they see, smell or hear in a place of minor significance shall be burdened with a nickname only their populace knows. Harmless colloquially and an eyesore when it ever reaches more public scrutiny. From what Yafya gathered conversing with carnivore psychologists—this cultural phenomenon is the same all around the world and divided only by language barriers. In Gyoen Garden's case: the equid found out that it's when the moon reflects on one of its many puddles and gives it a silver, luminescent glow through refraction. Yafya ignores the misnomer and inquires further, "You think it's related to the Madaragumi and Shishigumi alliance? Guo was reportedly overweight, so whoever took him was in a group or was otherwise exceptionally strong." Kidnappings have been on the rise since those two joined forces, often out in the open with absolutely zero consequence and they've been getting more brazen as a result.
A leopard cannot change its spots, after all. Neither can a lion choose its markings, it seems. None of the rats had offered them assurance on that front. They found the hub of all the carnage, but they hadn't dared go in… A sense of impending doom restrained them like marionettes on strings. As if whatever was inside knew what was coming… A rescue mission that deep in the market would be perilous, so they had retreated—for now. Opting instead to keep watch and surveil the premises instead. A safer option until Yafya decided it was the perfect time to strike. Whoever was running this scheme wasn't their ordinary criminal. Puppeteering the Shishigumi and Madaragumi into working alongside one another was a form of insanity that rubbed the Sublime Beastar the wrong way.
Their collaboration has been nothing but a complete pain in the neck. Yafya hadn't been able to pin them down once. Almost like someone else was coordinating their moves for them, a customer perhaps… It's always at dusk or nighttime, meaning not many eyewitnesses except for an odd fox or lizard—whose reliability could be debated not even through their own malice. One witness is no witness. This goes for all species. However, whenever a carnivore is to be a witness in whichever case: it becomes a complicated puzzle to gloss meaning from whichever locations they reference. This issue is extenuated when the police try to get a grip on carnivore terrorist groups who want to blow up a preschool, religious sects prone to devouring in the name of their faith or criminal organizations committing Rex knows how many felonies. Hilariously, carnivores being unaware of proper naming conventions is not even by any fault of their own.
It gets passed down from parent to child, from lowlife to orphan and from cultist to protege with zero consideration of what something is actually named and what historical significance it might have. Circling exactly back and around like a Möbius Strip to the previously ascertained problem. Cultural divides still haunted this world like a spectre on fear. Shuichi shook his head, flipping the page to ascertain more certainty. "In a public park? More than fifteen kilometers away from the market? Nah, I doubt it. There were hairs found. None of them feline, but those are circumstantial at best. Other than the blood trail leading towards the exit: There was no trace of a body, but we're still searching for any possible remains, witnesses or CCTV that could identify our suspect." If they hadn't found any video evidence or an eyewitness in more than a month—it was very doubtful that they would now. No suspicious vehicles were identified or otherwise reported, which led to many figuring the suspect got away on foot. Something which by all accounts should be nigh impossible.
This entire country was jam packed with cameras of high and low quality on every corner of every street. Attempting to get away on foot might as well should provide one a noose to hang themselves with, because it was bound to get you caught by some form of witness or government surveillance. So, essentially, that meant they must've used a vehicle or they can tap into the fourth dimension. There wasn't an in-between. One hadn't the need to tell the equid which one was more likely. "Alright, keep doing that and look into every avenue you can find. Any details regarding progress towards the suspect or a possible arrest shall immediately be forwarded to me", Yafya ordered, his tone shifting to a rather open octave of annoyance involving gritting of teeth and an eye roll. "Every four months there's like a new thing those fat-cats want me to worry about—even if this department has better things to do. Devourings have been on the rise according to the crime database statistics. Any explanation as to why?"
Fifteen percent might not sound like much, yet it means about a dozen more deaths weekly and thirty-five to forty-two more deaths monthly. Sure, that might not look like a problem if you're a statistician arguing mathematical formulas with your fellow compatriots, but it's innocent lives that are being counted up instead of down. From there, it mounts up like a fjord filled with waste and before you know it: you'll have both extremes of the spectrum, carnivore and herbivore, rioting in the streets while looting and killing. So, Yafya wasn't exactly charmed or thrilled by the egregious amount of corpses piling up outside of Black Market grounds. Not even daring to rest on his laurels, because the implications of what'll happen if they let this run its course will send the city back to the dark ages. This epidemic is worsened by the fact that most new suspects are below the age of twenty-five years old—meaning most of them were dumb kids overestimating their abilities, and who once again showcased that they're unable to control themselves.
Yafya wasn't very keen on letting them continue corroding society from the inside out with their death-dealing of illicit substances and would gladly, with fervent glee, shove their vile agenda down their throats. Or, the better more educated alternative, catapult those cockroaches in a dark cage where they can't hear, can't think and can't speak to make an example out of them for every sewer dweller out there in the Marketplace of Misery to see. Exhibiting clearly that mercy is a kindness the Black Devil offers but can also take away; snuff out like a candle during a cold winter night. Show them exactly in this very roundabout way of saying that they were the plague, and he was their antithesis providing a cure for their sickness. If anything, Shuichi and everyone in organized crime need to stop this problem from spreading out into the more affluential districts, while mister Sublime Beastar of course does the heavy lifting and disposes of those leeches—body bags included.
Preferably before the media picked it up and ran with it like a child holding scissors the wrong way during arts and crafts, and stabbing the entity that's facilitating their existence to begin with. Shuichi leaned forward more intently. "I checked the crime report yesterday. Around sixty-two percent of the new perps appear to be substance abusers, which is an unprecedented increase in the last seven months. An unknown cocktail of narcotics, blood and bone marrow have been discovered in their circulation right after their apprehension. Our data is implying a new drug, sir." It's even worse than Yafya could have imagined. Some science experiment gone rogue has rendered all his efforts null in the blink of an eye. Years of hard work, dedicated law changes, levying heavier punishments for predatory offences and policy adjustments went down the metaphorical drain by the bump in statistics alone.
In whichever case, this wasn't an amusing prospect in the slightest. What’s worse is that this was the first thing he heard about any of this. Tilting his head, Yafya inquired for further information. "A drug, you say? Those numbers are quite concerning. If what you're alleging is true—we have quite the problem on our hands. Have any of those crooks been interviewed yet?" Of course. Truthfully, a new drug ravaging through the lower echelons of their civilization wasn't completely unprecedented. The worst it could actually do was make them hopelessly addicted to it. An issue their society could deal with by virtue of interventions and support groups without the entire structure of their system collapsing in on itself. Those dredges to society would eventually resolve themselves, or not. That depends entirely on their support network or the lack thereof.
Yafya's mind was a whirlwind of considerations and contemplation these days. Taking factors, feelings and collateral damage into account. Caring about community woes like an old sentimental fool. Meanwhile, contrary to his disposition on the matter, he hasn't made a public appearance in years. Perhaps he was still a force of goodwill and concern after all. Nevertheless, such superfluous issues simply aren't meant to be, otherwise beasts of burden like him or the bear wouldn't be relevant. Whose ears flicked as he decided on a proper, by the books reply. "Yes, we have done extensive research into what caused their behavior. It appears to lull those that consume it into a trance, but its full range of effects elude us still", Shuichi briefed concisely. "An especially compliant suspect has told us the name and shared us the location of his dealer in pursuit of a plea deal. It's called Clarity. Our operatives are trying to gain direct access to the supply chain to get a full toxicology report, but without much luck as of yet."
Quintessentially, this was likely in the top five of things the equid didn't want to happen before the next year. A mad chemist, scientist or what have you cackling above their round cauldron creating a witch's brew that made beasts of the carnivorous caste lose their senses. A clear attempt at tantalizing those with frailer minds into self-destruction. Contrary to popular belief, Yafya thought that was not a nice change of pace for the city at large. If they put half as much effort into doing something actually beneficial to the world or society in general—they could by all probability live lavishly and without ever having to worry about money again. Alas, for the world, they decided instead to try to break all their conventions apart and try to usurp the Golden Throne for themselves… Another hill for those mongrels to die on. "I want that drug and the vermin who produce it off the street posthaste. I'll leave that up to your discretion and keep me in the loop as you see fit", Yafya said, flipping the page of yet another document binder and towards the next point of contention.
Those monsters pushed whoever didn't fit their narrative into the margins and made them reliant on their evil concoction to function. These wouldn't be the first instances of a cocky teenage carnivore going on a rampage under the influence of drugs, and they definitely wouldn't be the last if the manufacturer of said drug had anything to say about it. Forget that rigmarole, they could have it all for now. Let them think they were above it all. Another problem for another time. Shuichi was already spreading himself thin as is. The horse's gaze flicked back up towards the hardworking bear. "What of the Harbor Massacre? Seven closed caskets for our fallen officers, I heard. Their relatives are appealing to the courts and asking questions I cannot answer without jeopardizing the case. Made any ground on the anonymous caller who reported the whole smuggling operation to organized crime?"
"Negative. The call was made from a phone booth near the old industrial terrain—vacant buildings with no security to speak of. We don't have much to go on. No Gumi has come out and claimed responsibility yet. Likely opted to keep a low profile. Must've figured someone spilled the beans on their plans at the port", Shuichi ascertained dutifully, trying to gauge the equid's wavelength of thought. Jabbing his finger crudely at a detail inside the file that caught his eye. "There. You see that? Ballistics! It's what I wanted to show you. Just by the weapons and caliber rounds alone… we know this isn't some small time smuggler's dispute. According to the reports: There were multiple explosives used and various scents found that didn't align with just one carnivore species alone. I suspect we're not dealing with a Gumi here due to lack of specialized methods of killing." Such redundancy. Most gumi folk make it an effort to trademark their murders, and that wasn't found here. Of course they weren't dealing with the traditional big cats, slimy foxes or otherwise venomous lizards.
This rancid stench of death and sadistic spunk didn't reek of their particular theatrical proclivities. Who cared about the how or which means were utilized to dispatch of their officers? They're dead! Whether someone got their head split open or their stomach area got turned into a kebab was utter flavor text in Yafya's eyes. Good, honest beasts with loving families and friends were removed from the mortal coil because their entire department dropped the ball. This is an unacceptable loss on their end. One that frankly shouldn't even have happened regardless of what they were going through. Grenades, heavy weaponry and Rex knows what else was used to turn their highly specialized canine squadron into a some cheap slasher movie aftermath—and they were at fault for it.
Danuja the elk was an highly respected, venerated officer of the law and trained in covert operations and crisis management, albeit a bit temperamental when put under extended pressure or time constraints. Case in point, he never did anything half-assed. Marriage being the only thing he fucked up… Four times. Danuja losing to a bunch of common crooks was equally unfathomable as it was ironic. You lead missions against sects and hardened mobsters but you die in the section children's toys are being shipped. Losing like that must've been utterly humiliating as well as devastating. Unless, of course, he underestimated them or was otherwise caught off-guard by something unexpected—then he deserved to be quartered. Neither of those outcomes will ever be known, except if they apprehend those who are responsible and forced them to explain.
It was a big mess, alright. And the stallion Beastar would once again have to serve as the janitor to clean house. "How intriguing of an insinuation. A mixed species enterprise encroaching on our turf with their filthy mitts…? Doesn't sound like any known gang that's on our radar", Yafya snorted humorlessly almost sarcastically, musing about the further implications by tapping his finger on the next line. "It says here that a fence east of the perimeter was found carefully snipped apart and a container from questionable origins with as of yet unknown cargo was found breached. They found trace spray paint on the door that was marred with claw marks in an effort to obscure something. This entire report is all conjecture. Nothing concrete. A complete and utter fiasco, Shuichi." Whoever or whatever entity was responsible for such an unforgivable atrocity was in all likelihood pissing themselves laughing at the fact that they got away with it. They hadn't even covered their tracks all that well. It was almost like they knew that whatever their department found would serve them no purpose whatsoever.
That this veil of anonymity they were hiding behind would protect them from being bombarded by the brunt of their investigative unit. Unfortunately, even then, Yafya would still be deflecting from the main issue. Whatever was in that container was important enough for those lowlifes to risk their necks for. Obviously, it wasn't anything close to being anywhere near good for the world or otherwise philanthropically inclined. It was migraine-inducing to imagine what kind of horrors must've been in there. However much this organization and their many precursors had tried to rid themselves of creatures like this, they always have a way of… festering. Riding on the coattails of their depravity which such speed—nobody had any hope in catching up. One couldn't just yell 'avaunt, rotten miscreant' while holding a rapier and be done with it. Nowadays, many of the police departments around the world have stooped so low as to hire those previously working against them. Actually consulting criminals. Fighting fire with fire, they valiantly argued. This city would never accept help from the likes of those lowlifes.
Neither side of that particular spectrum, carnivore or herbivore, would ever be acceptable in the equid's eyes. Once a grifter; always a grifter. Scum remained scum. Beasts don't change their nature. You can learn from them, but you must never work with them. Individuals like the bear were thus an invaluable resource to their organization. "No kidding. Communications throwing their own little civil war was clearly to our detriment. One of our commanding officers has been mauled and dismembered beyond recognition. We found a lot of trace DNA that led nowhere in our databases and to no one's fucking surprise. ‘Cause when do things ever go our way?", Shuichi grouched standing up, his teeth baring slightly paired with a grimace. An expression Yafya would take as a sign of disrespect in any other scenario. However, not this one. "It's a big ol' crock of shit. It's all that dog's fault for mismanaging this bureau into a funnel for higher resources to cherrypick statistics to make themselves look good. I swear, it pisses me the fuck off!"
"Why do you think he got fired? Once I found out about his misappropriation of funds and cronyism—I figured it prudent to kick him and the rest of his lackeys off the force in favor of you and other suitable candidates", Yafya pacified with a hand motion, communicating for the bear to sit back down. "Subpar communications between departments were an expected side-effect of reverting them back to their intended purpose." How badly Rood had screwed with their systems to prevent undesirable whispers from reaching Yafya's ears. After that Cherryton triple devouring catastrophe, it was highly appropriate to attain and revise a fresh knowledge of on how Rood exactly made their department tick. To his apparent dismay and disbelief—it was a bureaucratic clusterfuck of an operation meant to please rather than garner results.
Something that fuelled the hellish fires of anger equivalent to ninth circle within. Firing him without pay and a criminal record indicated a sense of unfailing courtesy and forbearance Yafya hadn't figured he possessed. If anyone found out, they would figure he'd gone soft and ought the be put in an elderly home. "That's all fine and well, but we cannot continue like this with threats such as the Shishi-Madara alliance acting with impunity. We're running out of time here!", Shuichi pointed out, adding a bit of resentment to that statement. "If we don't do anything soon, they'll think they have the green light to do anything they want. We've seen an unprecedented influx of young carnivores and herbivores alike entering the Black Market en masse!" Somehow, that's still not even their biggest problem to date. Curious beasts cannot be prevented from going there. Nobody entering, on the teenage to adult herbivore side of things, had died and were always permitted to leave the back-alley grounds as they saw fit. Violence has been on an all-time low inside Madaragumi and Shishigumi territory, and if there was it wasn't because of notable circumstances.
While, admittedly, it does sound very bad: There haven't been too many casualties statistically speaking with the sudden spike in traffic, which only appeared to be gaining momentum on the east side of the market's territory. However, that doesn't mean they can let their guard down. There is some validity to the bear's worries. Whatever those disgusting, loathsome cats are planning—it'll certainly lead to a lot of unnecessary loss of life. Just because they're playing nice and amicable now doesn't mean they'll keep that charade up forever. Illegal activity such as gambling, drugs and meat will keep them content until it doesn't. "Striking while the iron is hot has always been one of your most admirable traits, Chief Commander. Sorry about this, but I'll have to refuse that proposal. They're hiding out and playing the waiting game—they'll see us coming from a mile away if we mobilize this instant", Yafya retorted, his frown directed at both Shuichi and the situation at hand. "Additionally, if we close in on those lions and leopards now: we'll lose whatever advantage we have over the unknown party dancing in the middle. My sources have confirmed it. They go by Fangs of Envy—which sounds more like a boy band than a gang—and they're stringing them together like a very… sloppy, uncomfortable puppet show."
Whose malice was only outpaced by their stupidity. It was the equivalent of them throwing out their line with a bill attached in broad daylight, yelling pejoratives and profanities while sticking out their tongues. All aimed at goading them into participating in this glorified pissing contest. Hoping dearly and on a prayer that Beastar Sublime and police force would take the bait on a rage-induced crusade, so those fuckheads could lure them into an ambush on their turf with home court advantage. This game of cat and mouse they're playing will only end up with one winner. By barricading themselves in their iron fortresses, Miso and Tayama were anticipating a response from all sides. By all likelihood, they figured not many were exactly pleased by their rather unexpected and unusual coalition, and thus they were preparing for the worst case scenario: All-out war.
Playing into their hands this instant was the worst mistake they could possibly make. Of course they were taunting whoever was opposed to or against them into flying off the handle and onto uncharted territory, because that meant a guaranteed victory against those that thought they were easy pickings. Shuichi, however, seemed less than enthusiastic about this decision by the way his arms were folded and claws were in open view regardless of his closed-off posture. "Come on, Yafya. Even I know this too passive of an approach—" the grizzly said, gesturing with his left hand and tapping his right hand's claw on the table afterwards. "—What do we have to fear of a small-time gang threading the needle and escaping? This isn't the first time we've seen something like this. Most of them will turn on each other the moment their cover is blown, and we'll swoop in like angels to arrest the stragglers." Sure, let's just barge in and get their collective asses willingly handed to them. What was he thinking? This wasn't a covert operation from some spy novel.
The world does not function in such ways. Furthermore, the police have and always will be the biggest obstacle those lowlifes have to deal with. The enemy of their enemy wasn't their friend this time around. So, when they have to choose whichever entity to rid themselves of first: who does Shuichi think they'll target straight off the bat logistically? If it means a stronger foothold or the prospect of expanding their presence over the city, it wouldn't exactly take a psychic to extrapolate their next steps. This horse will now have to put his foot down. "That's very… optimistic, Shuichi. I for one am not buying the story of the Shishigumi and the Madaragumi working together just because there's a middleman gang involved. It all sounds too convenient. Too neat. I don't like it at all", Yafya enumerates with apparent disgust. "You have any idea how unprecedented their alliance even is? Miso and Tayama are mortal arch-enemies from the moment they could digest solid food. Whomever is in the middle has been tethering them together without so much as a gang war, and I think I have the vaguest inkling as to who that might be."
Enough time has been wasted on trying to hide his hand or subtly reveal glimpses of it to accrue slight, often negligible advantages. It was about prudent he'd slam them all down on the table, in lieu of staying in the river forever contemplating whether he should call or fold. Shuichi scoffed rather rudely at the dismissal of their previous suggestion. Much to Yafya's chagrin. Politeness or cordiality was obviously not a thing he would grow into anytime soon. The bear occupied some space on the wooden surface with his arms, a pathetic attempt at challenging his authority. "Really now? Indulge my curiosity. Who is this mysterious benefactor?" The sheer amount of condescension in that tone would be astounding if it weren't for Shuichi’s flat voice, which unsurprisingly didn't hide much of his intend behind it. This entire spectacle was just comparable to his personal chief commander calling him pusillanimous or the more popular, commonly known and offensive variant: a pussy.
Still a false cognate… Anyone else would've gotten their behind politely kicked out of the window. If Yafya ever fell for such an elementary, intentionally silent provocation then he'd have his resignation letter sealed and rubber stamped before daybreak. Either way, it was more efficient to just let that remark slide and continue on with more interesting matters. The equid mentally prepared himself on how he was going to word this, adding gravity by clasping his hands together on the desk. "Fine then, since you are so adamant and professional about this", Yafya spat sarcastically. "This has been an urban legend within the Black Market and its fringes for as long as I can remember. It's almost too ridiculous to even consider... Shuichi, have you ever heard of somebody named the Cannibal of the West Quarter?" Admittedly, the horse had initially planned he'd broach this subject a week from now as a department-wide announcement. Yafya made it his business to be efficient and to not spend unnecessary time repeating himself.
Alas, it couldn't really be helped. It's better to have his overseers in command prepared and in the know than run the risk of them being outwitted due to something unexpected. "Tsk! Are you pulling my leg? You referring to that fairytale about an herbivore who lives in the Black Market and eats meat?", Shuichi nearly laughed, yet somehow managed to keep a modicum of his composure. "Come on, Yafya. We are way too old to buy into myths like that! That story is almost as old as you are and has not gotten any more believable since. No herbivore out there survives that place. It had to have been a fable made up by some overly creative, poetically talented, mostly intoxicated deviant!" If only that was true. Japan could sleep easier knowing this was nothing but an addicted homeless carnivore's tall tale for the ages. Unfortunately, this world really had no threshold on the amount of insanity it could leverage. There wasn't an end in sight, and they'd be old and grey before any change would glimmer above the new horizon.
As Beastar, he just had to convince himself and others of that until the day they all died, and the next generation would have to pass the torch towards their salvation. Dragging his lackeys on board wasn't any different. Yafya answered lackadaisically, rolling his eyes with sarcastic irreverence. "We both know I haven't gone senile just yet. I tested my little theory weeks ago. Sly as those vixens of the Inarigumi are with their prostitution rings, pyramid schemes and embezzling fronts—we cannot deny they have their fingers in a lot of pies. Anything goes with those women as long as there's money involved." There's not a single being alive that doesn't fall prey to something. In this case, someone else's boundless greed is serving to do them in. Even if it involves accepting the cash of someone that wants nothing more than to see them dead; they would still accept it due to hubris, pride or both. Perhaps those foxes consider themselves that out of his reach, or maybe they complied out of fear. With criminals and yakuza like them—you can never tell happiness from anger. Neither their face or composure will ever break, unless you're standing above them ready to bring the hatchet of justice down.
Shuichi leaned back comfortably in his chair, trying to keep his facial features straight and deciding at last to hear his boss out. "And? Learned anything useful from those wicked witches?" Plenty. Enough for him to actively make preparations to wipe the proverbial slate clean of their existence. Yafya was not particularly inclined to tell him about the thralls he has send into the belly of the beast. The Cornered Rats were as fringe and legally unethical as one could get, so he'd rather omit them from the narrative outright and keep them snugly in his back pocket. An ace in the hole nobody would expect. A third party outside of conventional policing working for you is far more useful than doing it by the books sometimes. "Within myths and legends, there is always a grain of truth to be found. Many elderly back-alley residents have sworn on their lives, even though that's not worth a whole lot, that they've seen something unlike any carnivore consume a slab of beef in a single mouthful and then disappear cloaked by the masses", Yafya explained thoroughly, leaning back in his office chair while staring at the ceiling indecisively before continuing. "What I am getting at is that the story of the Cannibal never dies. It returns with a vengeance when things go bump deep in the dark of the night. Every tale slips into some kind of obscurity or folklore in a place like that, but theirs just refuses to go and has persisted through multiple generations with little to no variation."
What many didn't understand about continuity is that the overall plot stays the same, but the little details shift ever so slightly. Stories change. It's an inevitable phenomenon purported by fate itself. Words and sentences are malleable like hot clay used to make an entirely new ceramic. If they want to remain within this world's current zeitgeist—they have to throw the old rabble out and bring the new shiny coating in. Nevertheless, the horse's words seem to fall on deaf ears. Shuichi's face was blank as he told him, "That's literally how stories are supposed to work. People reenacting the same song 'n dance through prose over and over again, until eventually it's permanently cemented into history."
For the love of Rex almighty… Things are never as innocent of benign as they seem at first glance. Admittedly, yes, those anecdotes about an herbivore escaping from the old livestock trade and nourishing themselves on the flesh of their peers sounds utterly ridiculous, but what plagues the mind is that it's not unprecedented within their history. That hellhole has been the breeding ground of the deluded since its inception and has spawned monsters that nobody can even imagine in a physical form. So, penultimately, Yafya resisted the temptation to tell Shuichi in less than kind terms to fuck off and marched onwards ignoring that most brazen insult to his intelligence. "Not this one", he clarified bitterly. "Those vixens told my friends that once a month at the very least—there is someone new within the market who swears up and down that they saw some sort of cow with sharp crooked teeth grin at them as they passed one another in an alleyway or busy street." When a story returns more popular and appears in places it usually shouldn't like the southern back-alley territories: It is likely to someone's benefit that the Cannibal doesn't fade into insignificance and prospers in the trenches of the collective consciousness.
Whoever is pulling the strings certainly understands that power is exemplified and benefits from everyone's fear of the unknown. An inability to put a face to the name can be an excellent thoroughfare for that. "Wait", Shuichi says, motioning his hands vying for a break. "So, you're playing into this mass psychosis that has no logical foundation whatsoever and rolling with whatever those untrustworthy bitches are spouting? I doubt someone like that actually exists. It sounds more like a scary monster story parents tell their kids before bed. 'Go to sleep or the cannibal will get you.'" Nothing like that. It was this ominous gut feeling that something wasn't adding up. The mere insinuation that he was acting on feebleminded herd sentiment made Yafya's face turn into a deadly frown. This department was barely raking in one-sixteenth of the arrests before the horse took the reigns and dragged them to absolution.
Thirty years of acting on those instincts will leave you with little hesitation to act on them accordingly. Those gut feelings have been nothing but reliable for decades and rarely if at all were ever proved to be inconsistent or wrong. Some new challenger engaging in a battle of wits with him wasn't going to change that. "Don't be daft, Shuichi. I'm not some tinfoil hat conspiracy theorist. I merely acted on a hunch that proved to provide me no further evidence as of yet except for lousy rumors. Understand that these gangs don't pop up out of nowhere. My educated guess is that they've been around for longer than we're aware of", Yafya reasoned logically, plopping his legs on the desk out of nothing but professional discourtesy and contempt. "To tame two Gumis into collaborative compliance reeks of something older. None of my associates have gathered much of anything about the interloper, and that's incredibly concerning. It's like they only exist in a vacuum and are sucking what doesn't belong out. Whatever is going on will come to fuck us full-force if nothing's done about it."
Control isn't about presence or influence. True authority is exercised by how far your shadow looms in the dark crevices of your subject's subconscious. A ruler isn't feared due to them being there at the top of some ivory throne, but because one is frightened at the terror of them being around every single corner listening and looking for an opportunity to put their subject through unimaginable anguish if they speak or act in ill will. What those spreading the story of the Cannibal are doing is almost textbook. Though the grizzly still didn't appear convinced. "Yafya, listen, I read the reports too. There's no coherency to their actions as of yet. If you wanna collar the group running those fighting rings first, be my guest", Shuichi shrugged wistfully. "Yet, know that the Shishigumi and Madaragumi will run for the hills the second they see you coming, which is going to lead them to chasing us out with everything in their respective arsenals. A turf war that has a very high probability of blowing up in our faces."
Every classic has its modern spin-off to bring in a breath of fresh air for the spool to be spun once more. Instead of gathering dust on the shelf somewhere; it'll attain new life by virtue of that voguish retelling. Captivating the masses by just its vanity and grace of storytelling alone. Popular novels dating back hundreds of years go through contemporary revisions to stay with the times, otherwise they can kiss their relevancy within this era goodnight and farewell. People work much the same. Thusly, a good old fashioned revenge story will work wonders for them. Yafya gave a close-lipped smile, tapping his fingers together with a steady rhythm. "Then let's not make that happen, shall we? I acquiesce with your earlier proposition. I want you to sent scouts into the back-alleys. Discreet experienced officers. Make your pick from all those detectives you've reassigned." Those charlatans are all going to face their wrath for their actions the moment their backs are turned. Lashing out when their enemy is assured of victory is Yafya's personal modus operandi.
Nothing beats the feeling of snagging someone else's sense of accomplishment by watching that final bit of life in their eyes die a slow death on the chopping block. Then, after they realized their heads were essentially lobbed off, it is followed by that well-deserved fall on the cutting room floor… This was going somewhere and it was going to be a dead end, but they just didn't know it yet. "Can you imagine the fun? The carnage? The residuals?", Yafya gloated internally at the prospect of delivering their just comeuppance after years of fighting and letting them get away with their crimes. If they want their fixture in this world—they can have it. Just not in the way they want. The equid knows what many of the higher ups may be wondering: How are they gonna do this without tarnishing and dishonouring this city's cultural heritage? It's a difficult task which has to be approached with the utmost seriousness and sensitivity it rightfully demands. One can imagine that simply getting their dander up would not do them any favors, so the horse has to gallop in front as the spearhead and deliver justice by utilizing the proper channels as is expected.
Matter of fact, the Sublime Beastar will tell those deserving exactly how this department is going to manage this delicate affair and the answer is very simple: They are not. Look, it's no grand, confidential government secret that their beloved, occasional political opportunity does not give a flying fiddle about all this big picture, moral of the story nonsense. Shuichi shared his smile with that predatory fang-filled salience that not many can equal in this station. "Now we're getting somewhere. Will certainly do. Am I required to brief anyone else?" On the contrary. There's no point in anyone else knowing what they're plotting. What Yafya cares about above all else is the end result. Much less the ramifications that led up to it. So, if they want a peaceful way to deal with all this without making this a mainstream thing—they can officially, and Yafya will put this to paper, shove it up their ass. One of the hallmarks of the dangerously stupid is the consistent belief that they've found an alternative solution to a problem that experts somehow missed.
Even though, it has been proven through rigorous trial and error of getting their teeth knocked out that it doesn't work. "No, you will not", Yafya ordered sternly. "This will be exclusively hush-hush. You are allowed to use whatever means you see fit. If you even hear a whisper about anyone from the Black Market catching wind of this naughty intrusion through their borders: All operations will be suspended effective immediately, and your operatives are to cease their activities and be expected to return back to base." Any breach of confidentiality will result in an immediate wipe-out within an hour, perpetrated by every Gumi or smalltime gang inside that cesspit. It would also undoubtedly lead to a lot of collateral damage and loss of life amongst their own residents in an effort to sniff the cops out. If there was a beast on this planet they hated and wanted to kill more than each other: It was indisputably Yafya, the Black Devil. Seeing him dead on an obituary would be a day they celebrated like Rexmas or New Year's Eve.
After having neutered so many of their respective operations and losing them money that neared the seven digits—the price on Yafya's head was a staggering amount even to their standards. Any undercover agent they could hold for ransom was another 'victory' in their eyes. A consequence this department couldn’t allow at all costs, lest those bastards get more cocky than they already are. "Understood", Shuichi nodded resolutely, standing up with a halfhearted salute. "I'll rally those who I find most useful and appropriate pronto. They'll be mobilised within two days at the very least. You'll get the files of the officers I picked at the end of the afternoon. Give a holler when you need me." Immediately afterwards, without allowing so much as an agreement on his boss' end, he bounded for the exit like a cub coming home from school who gets to play with his favorite action figures. The equid supposed it was long overdue to allow the grizzly a project after such a long dry spell of nothing particularly significant.
A little excursion to scout enemy territory with some adorable spies couldn't do them much harm, unless they did something unfathomably moronic, of course. Nevertheless, Shuichi was gonna take proper precautions to make sure such things didn't happen. In that the Sublime could have the smallest amount of faith. Yafya waved him off dismissively. "Go take care of that. I'll sign away on whomever you choose as long as they aren't a safety hazard. Make yourself useful and brief me as soon as you got something about Gyoen Gardens." Then after everything was said and done—they would remind those measly critters who the actual monsters were. In a few weeks, they can start to think about the gravity of their actions for a very long time while imprisoned inside Darktrench Correctional Institution's maximum security unit. Or, preferably for the equid, if they weren't as willing; then they could just as easily choose for the afterlife to find penance.
Not that any God would offer them any. It'd be as easy as crushing their windpipe, or ripping their corroded hearts from their chest. For all those that were victimized by their selfish, egotistical and greedy ways… Yafya would do anything to offer those souls the rest they rightfully deserved. Even if it meant working with the likes of that overconfident bear. As for that earlier impertinence involving the grizzly's discourtesy, there's no way he can let him leave without setting the record straight. Shuichi is testing how much he can push his boss' boundaries without getting lectured. However, he severely underestimates what lengths Yafya will go through to keep that leash on his neck tight. Another disobedient mutt, in this case bear, is not a commodity he'll allow this department to house ever again. There's no easier way to catch someone with their guard down, than when they think they're getting away with something they really shouldn't. It makes them complacent and confident, and that's when you knock them down a peg.
The coop cannot be flown so easily. A gentle aide-memoire of why he's here and that won't hurt in the slightest unless he struggles. "Shuichi. Before you go, as a token of appreciation, I want to impart a friendly reminder of what I expect of you moving forward", Yafya called out, returning his eyes to the documents the moment he saw the bear halted at the door. A particular malice seeping deep in his tone. "Don't forget your place here. The only reason you have had any future in these particular fields this past decade is because I graciously allowed it. You know, I would hate for your wife and daughter to find out about your little secret. Your paltry dalliance of a time long since passed with your old paramour cannot simply be erased. Disrespect me again, and I'll treat you not much differently and with less equity from the rest of the pieces on my board."
Implying that it would be with contempt and pushback rather than respect was par for the course, especially when it involved making one of Shuichi’s mistakes common knowledge to every riffraff down the street. If the warm welcome and immediate inauguration he received wasn't any sign of cordiality and good faith, the horse would be starved for words. It was an unprecedented event on any department's calendar to put it lightly. This wasn't a pity hire. Yafya wanted skill and now he's demanding it straight up. Although, Shuichi looked a little lost when all that information landed in his lap and then saluted him properly with the dignity which was expected. Understanding perfectly that he could very well lose his livelihood if Yafya so chose. "Okay. Alright. I get it. You want a professional. Not a foul-mouthed fool. I was out of line. It won't happen again, sir. I'll see myself out."
That door which was previously entered with lightheartedness was now closed with temperance. Yafya turned his office chair towards the window and his gaze traveled over the waking city. Who's to say how many times the Beastar Sublime must drag this cub posturing as a grown man back in line. It truly depends on Shuichi's disposition towards all of this. It's safe to assume that it'll be done as many times as necessary given the importance of having a solid second in command.
For what's to come… Yafya's gonna be needing one. More than he might realize, even now.