NOVEL NEXT Chapter 38: Train
Jin dropped heavily into one of the shattered seats, the fight still echoing through his body. His breath was steady, almost unnaturally calm for a man who'd just taken a blade through the heart. He fished out a cigarette and lighter from shikaku, placed it between his lips, and lit it with a casual flick of lighter. The glow of the flame briefly lit his bloodstained face. He drew in a long puff, exhaled smoke toward the ceiling, then let his eyes fall on Oishi.
The old man was slumped in miwa lap, blood spilling freely from the wound Jin had given him. His breaths were ragged, each one a struggle. Jin tapped a finger against his own chest—where the gaping wound had already closed, the skin knitting itself back together, as if the blade had never been there. The message was clear: his injury is healing, and Oishi's isn't.
Oishi lowered his gaze. His failure was absolute, and he knew it. There was no clawing back victory from the grave that was already swallowing him whole.
Jin's voice was cold.
"Here's the deal, old man. I'll ask the questions. You'll answer."
Oishi's lips twisted, defiance flickering even in his dying body.
"And if I don't?"
Jin leaned forward, smoke curling from his mouth.
"Then I kill that girl. And after that, I'll pay your Manji clan a visit. I'll slaughter your fighters, your elders, your fathers, mothers, children. I'll burn your line out of existence."
Miwa lurched forward, fury blazing in her eyes.
"You bastard! I'll kill you before you ever reach them—"
Oishi caught her wrist, dragging her back down beside him despite the blood pouring from his wound. His grip, though weak, carried a lifetime of authority.
"Child, no. Don't be rash. Listen to me, just this once. Promise me."
"But—he's exhausted!" Miwa's voice cracked with desperation. "I might never get another chance like this—"
Jin smirked, smoke leaking from his lips.
"She's right, old man. This is your one shot. Come close, and maybe you kill me. So—" he leaned forward, baring his fangs in a grin, "what's it going to be, girl?"
Oishi coughed blood, his voice strained but sharp.
"Don't be fooled by his words, child. He could still tear you apart where you stand."
"But—"
"Enough!" Oishi's voice thundered, the last strength of a dying patriarch. "You are the hope of the Manji clan now. You cannot throw yourself into a grave out of anger. Do you understand?"
Miwa's lips trembled, but the fire in her eyes dimmed. She bit her tongue, forcing herself to stillness, and lowered her head in silence.
Jin turned his gaze toward Shikaku, who had lingered silently at the back of the carriage.
"Tell him what you told me."
Shikaku's spoke "Zero told me…the Manji clan struck a deal. You were given Kuoh in exchange for killing a woman—making it look like a car accident. Her name was Jun Kazama." He pointed a finger at Jin. "And this…this is her son. Jin Kazama."
Silence hung heavy. Even Miwa froze, her eyes wide.
Oishi's face shifted—not shock, not denial, but something like bitter acceptance. His laugh was soft, broken.
"The world does love its cruel games. The deal we thought would bring us glory instead delivered our death. To think…a ghost of the past would rise to tear us apart. And that a traitor," his eyes flicked toward Shikaku, "would bring it to our gates."
He spat blood onto the floor.
"And why would I tell you, boy? the devils would kill my family if they knew i tell the tail ."
Jin's eyes narrowed, the cigarette burning low between his fingers.
"You just confirmed your clan's hand in it. That's all the reason I need to kill every last one of you."
Oishi closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, resignation weighing in his stare.
"Then…at least let Miwa and the others live. I'll tell you what you want to know."
Jin chuckled.
"Still bargaining, even at the deathbed. I could get this information from someone else. That's the curse of being part of an organization—there's always another tongue to speak."
Oishi gave a thin, bloodied smile.
"Perhaps. But none of them could give you , what you truly need."
That gave Jin pause. He leaned back, smoke curling from his nostrils.
"Fine. I won't kill the girl. And I won't touch your non-fighters. "
Oishi let out a long, rattling breath, closing his eyes. He knew it was the best he could wring from the devil seated before him.
"Then listen well."
He coughed again, blood flecking his lips.
"It was the devils who came to us. They offered a deal: eliminate a woman, and in return, they would open Kuoh to us, pulling strings in the shadows. We were to make it look like an accident. So we did."
Jin's eyes narrowed.
"Why didn't they handle it themselves?"
Oishi shook his head.
"Perhaps you don't know. Your mother…she was of the Shinto faction. Why she left them, I don't know . Perhaps to raise her child. But devils killing a woman of Shinto blood would leave traces, even in Kuoh. That land may bear their name, but in truth, it belongs to the Shinto gods of Japan."
Jin's cigarette glowed as he inhaled, his voice low.
"So the question remains. Why did they want her dead?"
Oishi's voice was almost a whisper now.
"Because she was a friend of Cleria Belial—the former ruler of Kuoh. When Cleria died, they erased all her allies as well. Why? I do not know. We only seized the opportunity laid before us."
Jin's gaze sharpened.
"Yet they didn't silence you. Not even as a loose end."
Oishi let out a hollow laugh, though blood ran down his chin.
"Devils have always underestimated humans. To them, we are gnats. Even with our strength, we could barely muster a handful of true warriors. They believed they could wipe us out at any time."
Jin rose, flicking ash to the floor. His shadow loomed over Oishi, cigarette glowing between his fingers.
"I see. Then I'll give you some time. Spend what's left with your daughter."
He turned, walking down the ruined carriage, exhaling a final stream of smoke as the train roared on through the night.
Outside, the rails screamed as steel devoured distance. The bullet train surged toward its destination—straight to doom of the Manji clan.