BAAM! Tanashi slammed one of the men who was still conscious against the cold wall of a container. He seized him by the throat, lifting him a few inches off the ground. The poor wretch was going to have to spit it all out if he didn't want to end up in ashes.

  "Who is your boss?" Tanashi growled.

  "I... I don't know!"

  The leather glove tightening around his neck began to smoke. The smell of burning flesh rose instantly. The man's eyes bulged in pure panic.

  "What? What is...?! What are you?!"

  "Speak, before I consume you."

  "A... a Hero?!" the bandit stammered, terrified by this power.

  Tanashi squeezed harder, his hand becoming a muffled furnace.

  "You are wasting my time. And my time is precious."

  "I swear! I'm just the delivery guy! I don't know the client, I just drop off the goods! I'm telling the truth!"

  Tanashi fell silent for a moment, then, with his other hand, he pulled a weathered photo from his pocket. He shoved it in front of the delivery man's eyes. It was Kenta. Even in this old snapshot, his arrogance was blinding: his hair, shaved on the sides and excessively gelled, shone under the harsh light. His square face, with its heavy, unshaven jaw, displayed that same contemptuous look small gray eyes that seemed to judge everyone like pieces of meat. He wore his school uniform carelessly, shirt open, a thick black leather bracelet on his wrist.

  "You don't recognize him?"

  The man's eyes widened. Recognition flashed there, mixed with a new kind of terror.

  "I... I think I've seen him before."

  "Tell me where he is!"

  "I heard... I heard he goes to the 'Golden Phoenix' Casino next week. Every Friday, 2:00 PM sharp. He comes with his women for business... That's all I know, I swear!"

  "Good."

  Tanashi let him go. The man collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. But before he could crawl any further, Tanashi seized his head and delivered an incredibly violent knee strike straight to his face. The sound of exploding cartilage was sickening. The man fell back, disfigured, unconscious. I wasn't even sure if he was still breathing.

  "Was that really necessary?" I asked, my throat tight.

  He turned his smoldering gaze toward me.

  "He earned it. People who poison innocents with their drugs deserve the worst."

  I didn't dare say another word. The fear of provoking him was stronger than my moral compass as a cop. He calmly dusted off his clothes, as if he had just finished a mundane household chore.

  "Fine. Let's leave before your colleagues arrive."

  "Oh... okay."

  I followed him, struggling to hide my excitement. Inside, I was jubilant: help was on the way, and my phone was going to talk. The countdown to my freedom had just begun.

  We left the port, leaving behind the bandits lying in their blood and the damning evidence in the container. The sirens wouldn't be long now. Tanashi’s car was parked on the other side of the avenue.

  As we crossed the road, a massive truck lumbered past us in a roar of grinding metal. In a fluid, almost imperceptible gesture, Tanashi reached out and brushed the body of the moving vehicle.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, frowning. "Why are you touching speeding cars like that?"

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  He stopped in the middle of the road and turned toward me. He was holding my phone, but I saw immediately that something was missing.

  "What? I just attached your SIM card to that truck," he replied in a tone of chilling normality.

  The world seemed to stop turning. An atrocious sensation washed over me a violent mixture of despair and pure misery. That tiny piece of plastic, my only lighthouse in the night, my only chance of being localized by my colleagues, was now speeding away at 80 km/h toward an unknown destination. I felt as if my heart had just been ripped out of my chest. I was on the verge of collapsing and sobbing right there on the asphalt.

  Tanashi placed his hand on my shoulder. A firm, almost comforting warmth if it hadn't belonged to my captor.

  "Don’t make that face, Kenji. You’ll get another SIM card later. Let’s go; we need to get back before my daughter returns from school."

  He made what seemed like a movement of satisfaction beneath his bandages.

  "Besides, I’m rather pleased. I got exactly what I wanted today."

  I remained silent. As I climbed into the car, I felt as though I had become his accomplice, to the point where I didn't even feel forced to follow him anymore. The engine roared, and Tanashi pulled onto the road. I stared into the void, disappointed and exhausted. He noticed my silence. Even with his face masked, I felt a sort of irony floating in the cabin, as if he were internally mocking my failed escape attempt.

  "Shouldn't you be happy? You helped catch those criminals, after all," he remarked.

  "No. Anyway, I barely did anything. I just want to go home."

  "I’m sorry, Kenji. Even if you were useful to me, I can't let you alert the whole world. I want to keep all of this a secret until my death... or at least until Hina is happy."

  "It’s just a lack of trust," I grunted. "And besides, why not tell her? Her?"

  "Impossible. I don't want her to know."

  "She already knows you’re... 'on fire' under those bandages, right?"

  "No. Even that, I want her to ignore."

  His voice broke, becoming hollower, more fragile.

  "You know that one day, she’ll find out," I insisted gently. "You can’t hide forever."

  "I don't know how she’ll react... when she sees my true face. I’m afraid of losing her. I’m afraid she’ll realize that all these years, I wasn't her father, but a monster."

  Listening to him, a sting of empathy pricked my heart. This man loved his daughter more than anything in the world. Despite his appearance as a human torch and his extreme violence, he was just a father terrified of his child's gaze. At that moment, he touched me more than he frightened me.

  "I think you’ll always be her father, after what I’ve seen," I finally said. "Even if you look like a monster, you’re far more human than most people I cross paths with."

  Tanashi let out a short, sharp sound somewhere between a muffled laugh and annoyance.

  "Tch... I didn't expect a cop to tell me something like that."

  "What? I’m being honest, that’s all," I replied with a shrug. "But there’s something that’s been bugging me."

  "What now?"

  "Tanashi, how did you know all of it? The container, the delivery, the exact time? Do you have informants or something?"

  He turned his head briefly toward me, and even through the bandages, I felt his piercing gaze.

  "You don't need to know. Let’s just say I’ve tracked them for years them and their group."

  I thought out loud, suddenly struck by the obvious.

  "And what do we do now if they talk to the police? If they say we’re looking for their boss at the casino, they’ll drop on us before we can do anything."

  Tanashi remained silent for a moment, then shrugged with almost disconcerting nonchalance.

  "You shouldn't worry about that. But you’re right about one thing: they will be discovered by the police, and they will be exposed. Though they’ll likely be dead before then. Their organization doesn't leave witnesses who fail."

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  "You mean..."

  "Exactly. They failed their mission. In their world, you pay in cash. Literally."

  I digested the information, my brain in overdrive. Then an idea hit me.

  "But maybe some help from the police could... help us? If we tipped them off discreetly, we could have backup at the casino."

  Tanashi slowly shook his head.

  "I’m sure that’s exactly what they wanted. For someone to go after their boss. But not with the cops’ help. They probably hope we’ll get ourselves killed arriving there like amateurs. A thorn removed from their side without them having to lift a finger."

  I sighed, realizing the machination.

  "And I think, above all, they won't confess. That’s why your interrogation method, with all due respect, is never as effective as you think. Fear closes mouths; it rarely opens hearts."

  He didn't answer, but his fingers tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel. I had hit a nerve.

  "Seriously, Tanashi," I continued, subtly shifting the subject, "what’s your job? How do you pay for a house like that way better than mine, by the way when you don't exactly have the profile to pass a job interview?"

  He kept his eyes fixed on the road. I lowered my voice, sensing I was touching on an even more sensitive point:

  "And there’s something else. I ran into your... 'clone' at the hospital. He looked like you, but it clearly wasn't you. Is he the Shapeshifter? Is that what everyone is afraid of?"

  Tanashi let out a long sigh, a heavy sound that seemed to vibrate the bandages around his mouth.

  "Kenji... Save your questions for when we arrive. I need to think about what I can tell you without putting Hina in danger. Give me some silence."

  "Oh... I see. Okay, got it."

  Tanashi refocused on the road, his gloved hands gripping the wheel firmly. For my part, I fell back into a heavy silence, but my mind was racing more than ever. If I stayed with him, it wasn't just out of fear of dying anymore. It was for the answers. Every partial revelation only sharpened my thirst to understand.