Chapter 38: Brother Xiu Xin Begins the Investigation (Please vote! Please keep reading!)

"Bakayaro!" Aoyama Munemasa, struck right at his sore spot, shot to his feet in a fury, slamming the table and pointing at Aoyama Shunobu's nose as he cursed loudly, "You dare mock me? You, a useless parasite who only brings shame to the family—what right do you have to ridicule me? I endure humiliation outside for the sake of our family's future! If you had even a shred of ambition, would I need to work so hard?"

Humiliated by outsiders and misunderstood by his own family, Aoyama Munemasa felt acutely wronged, burdened alone with the weight of his clan.

"Oh, look who's getting flustered now," Aoyama Shunobu retorted, the sneer on his face growing ever sharper as he mercilessly tore away his brother's last shred of dignity. "For the family's future? More like your own future! I'm a parasite? Ha, that's rich—who emptied out father's inheritance to secure a county council seat? At least I passed the police entrance exam on my own merits."

"And I hand over part of my salary to the family every month. But our illustrious head of the Aoyama clan, who talks about restoring our family’s glory—how much money have you contributed these years? I’d wager our sister-in-law’s dowry is long spent, isn’t it, dear brother?"

Words that kill the heart—the most biting insults are those that expose one's failings.

If Aoyama Munemasa had any real abilities, it might be forgivable. But he had none; he squandered the family’s assets for a council seat and got stuck there, meek outside and belligerent at home—a laughable spectacle.

Some people are like that: gentle and courteous to strangers, yet leaving all their negative emotions at the doorstep for their kin.

In short—domestic tyrants.

"You damned bastard! How dare you speak to me this way, so insolent?" Aoyama Munemasa was livid, his face ashen, his limbs trembling. His little brother had always been disobedient, but never so confrontational. "Get out! Get out of this house!"

"Ha, I'm an Aoyama too. This house belongs to me as much as you. If you can't stand me, you’re free to leave." Aoyama Shunobu shrugged, then turned to Aoyama Haruko. "Sister-in-law, I’m off to rest."

With that, he grabbed his coat and headed upstairs.

Aoyama Haruko breathed a sigh of relief, stepping forward to steady Munemasa, her voice gentle and soothing. "Husband, please calm down. Tomorrow I'll talk to Shunobu—"

Smack! Munemasa grew angrier the more he thought, and suddenly slapped her hard across the cheek, roaring, "I told you to watch him, and this is how you watch? Letting him grow ever more insolent?"

Haruko, petite and caught off guard, was knocked to the floor. She clutched her face in silent distress, biting her lip as tears welled in her eyes but did not fall. She did not defend herself against his accusations.

"Sister-in-law, are you alright?" Shunobu, about to go upstairs, saw the scene and his anger flared. He rushed down to help Haruko to her feet.

Haruko shook her head, forcing a smile. "I’m fine. Shunobu, go to bed. He’s just drunk—when he sobers up—"

"I doubt he'll sober up anytime soon. Let me help him wake up." Shunobu interrupted, his gaze cold and hostile as he stared at Munemasa, reeking of alcohol, and slowly drew the belt from his waist.

This brother needed a proper lesson.

Haruko cried out in alarm, grabbing Shunobu’s wrist. "Shunobu, what are you doing?"

"Let him go!" Munemasa staggered to his feet, burping loudly, a dismissive sneer on his lips. "What, Shunobu, are you going to hit me? Go on, I dare you—"

Before he could finish, Shunobu's belt whipped through the air and landed with a resounding crack.

Smack!

"Aaaah!" Munemasa howled like a slaughtered pig, collapsing onto the sofa, shocked and enraged. "Shunobu, are you insane?"

"Shunobu, you can't do this—he’s your brother!" Haruko was nearly in tears, trying to restrain Shunobu, but he easily pushed her aside.

Shunobu, expressionless, swung the belt like a spinning top, beating and berating his brother.

Smack!

"How dare you throw your weight around at home!"

"Aaah! Bakayaro! Shunobu!"

Smack!

"For hitting your wife, for your temper!"

"Haruko, stop him! Quick—aaah!"

"Shunobu, please, I beg you, stop!"

Munemasa's drunkenness vanished in an instant. He started with curses, but soon couldn't withstand the beating, rolling and crawling around the living room, desperately trying to escape. He hid under the dining table, only to be dragged out by his ankle for more punishment.

Haruko threw herself over Munemasa, trying to shield him from her brother-in-law’s blows, but Shunobu lifted her easily with one hand.

"Shunobu! Put me down! Shunobu!" Haruko, already diminutive, was suspended midair, her small, delicate feet flailing helplessly—a comical sight.

With one hand holding his sister-in-law aloft and the other wielding the belt, Shunobu chased his brother around, reducing him to a cowering mess.

"Shunobu, respect your elder—aaaah!"

"Shunobu! Stop, I was wrong, Shunobu—please, I was really wrong, I’ll never dare again! If you keep beating me, I’ll die!"

After countless blows, Munemasa’s skin was raw and bleeding; he finally broke down, sobbing and begging for mercy, terrified he’d be beaten to death.

Only then did Shunobu stop and set Haruko down.

"Husband, are you alright?" Haruko rushed to her husband, her face taut with concern.

Munemasa wanted to curse her—Bakayaro! Can’t you see how I’m doing? But he was truly terrified of his brother now and didn’t dare act out again.

Shunobu sat on the sofa, tossed the belt aside, and looked at his battered, trembling brother, speaking coolly, "The glory of the Aoyama family will be restored by me. You stay in Saitama and mind your council duties. Stop making a fool of yourself and inviting humiliation. Your actions truly disgrace the family. Understood?"

"Yes!" Japanese people, so shameless: just moments ago Munemasa was strutting, now he was as meek as a grandson, nodding and bowing repeatedly.

He didn’t believe Shunobu’s words, but dared not show it.

Because his brother really did beat him mercilessly!

And he even held his wife up in one hand while beating him—how is that humanly possible?

Shunobu casually picked up the belt.

Munemasa flinched in terror, falling backwards onto the floor. Only when he saw Shunobu merely fastening it around his waist did he relax, but he still eyed him nervously, fearful of another sudden attack.

Watching his brother’s pathetic state, Shunobu felt a surge of irritation—how did a man like this ever marry Haruko? He’d have to ask her someday.

"Sister-in-law, take him to the bedroom and apply some ointment. It's only superficial wounds; he’ll recover in time," Shunobu said to Haruko.

Haruko, after so many years, had never seen Shunobu lose his temper like this; she was as intimidated as her husband and replied instinctively, "Yes."

"No—no need!" Munemasa shoved Haruko away and scrambled to his feet, fleeing for the door. "I just remembered an important bill at the council that needs my signature. I’ll be off. Shunobu, Haruko, you two rest early."

He even forgot his shoes in his haste, bolting out the door.

He couldn’t bear to face Shunobu, and even less so in front of his wife—being beaten by his younger brother in her presence was utterly humiliating.

"Husband! Husband!" Haruko hurried after him, calling out as Munemasa climbed into his car, "When will you be back?"

Munemasa didn’t answer—he floored the accelerator and sped away. Return? He wanted to live a few more years yet.

After all, from his perspective, Shunobu had clearly snapped, and if his brother learned what he was up to in Saitama, he’d probably beat him to death, so he had no intention of coming back.

Unless he became a national legislator—then he’d make sure to settle tonight’s score!

"But dinner hasn’t even been eaten," Haruko murmured, watching the taillights disappear.

"Right now, he just feels humiliated in front of you. He doesn’t know how to face you, or me. But he’ll come around eventually," Shunobu said.

Haruko turned to Shunobu, her gaze tinged with reproach. "Shunobu, why did you—"

"Sister-in-law, you’re not angry with me, are you?" Shunobu cut her off, looking uneasy as he bit his lip. "I just couldn’t stand him bullying you every time he came home, and especially not him hitting you."

He knew Haruko would surely harbor resentment—after all, as a traditional Japanese woman, her husband would always outweigh him in her heart, and it was because of him that she’d been denied even a moment alone with her long-absent husband.

So he spoke first, knowing her kindness would prevent her from scolding him.

A true schemer.

"Of course not." Haruko, seeing her brother-in-law’s expression, swallowed her reproach and forced a wry smile. "I don’t blame you; you’ve endured enough all these years. It’s just… Sigh. Shunobu, are you hungry? I’ll reheat the dishes."

"If you don’t mind, sister-in-law, I really am a bit hungry," Shunobu replied, rubbing his stomach.

After all, beating someone takes energy too.

Haruko nodded and went off toward the dining room.

Watching her graceful figure, Shunobu’s lips curled into a faint smile.

Sister-in-law is truly kind.

Too kind, so she’s easily bullied. That’s why he must protect her, and never let her be mistreated.

…………………………

The next day, Saturday.

Though it was a holiday, the task force investigating Takeda’s case couldn’t take time off; everyone was working overtime.

That evening, around seven, Asai Aya led Shunobu and Nakamura Shinichi to a nightclub.

As soon as they entered, a wave of heat mixed with cheap perfume hit them. Under dim lights, men and women twisted their bodies wildly, venting the day’s frustrations.

They struggled through the crowd in the main hall.

Stopping at the door to a private room.

"My informant said Yamamoto Ken is inside," Nakamura Shinichi turned to confirm with Aoyama and Asai.

Yamamoto Ken appeared to be a slaughterhouse owner, but secretly traded in firearms.

Since morning, Shunobu and his colleagues had already questioned several gun dealers, but all claimed no one had recently tried to buy large quantities of guns.

By "large," they meant not African truckloads—Japan, a country with strict gun laws, considered the sale of even three or five guns and a hundred rounds as a large transaction.

Still, they weren’t empty-handed. One dealer mentioned Yamamoto Ken had recently landed a sizable deal.

Informing the police would both curry favor and undermine a competitor—a double benefit.

Nakamura opened the door. Shunobu entered first, followed by Asai Aya, then Nakamura, who closed the door behind them.

Inside, a dozen men and women lounged around.

As the trio entered, every eye in the room turned toward them.

"Bakayaro! Who let you in? Get out!" A trendy, bald young man spat out a cigarette, rising and cursing as he marched toward Shunobu. "Get out, now!"

Asai Aya frowned, instinctively reaching for her badge. "We’re—"

Smack! Before she could finish, Shunobu slapped the bald youth across the face, then, without pause, grabbed his head and slammed it down onto the coffee table. The youth lost his balance, his skull crashing hard, blood spilling as he let out a shrill cry.

"Ah!"

Several women in the room recoiled, their faces drained by the brutality.

"How rude," Shunobu commented, releasing his grip and distastefully wiping the blood from his hand with tissue, not once raising his eyes. "Which one of you is Yamamoto Ken? Stand up."