It was past midnight when they arrived in Sapporo.

Miyashita Naoyuki, preoccupied with the arrival of the cargo that evening, had not joined them and had taken off ahead of Aoyama Xiu Xin.

"Shall I take you to the hospital?" Aoyama Xiu Xin asked Miyashita Ryouko, who had been silent throughout the journey.

He thought that given Miyashita Ryouko's character, she would go to the hospital to confront her father, but Ryouko simply shook her head and replied, "No need, after all, I can only pretend he never did such a thing, right?"

Aoyama Xiu Xin was a bit surprised as Miyashita Ryouko seemed more mature and more accepting of reality than he had anticipated.

Her confronting Miyashita Hidekatsu would only make their father-daughter relationship awkward in the future and wouldn't change what had already happened. Moreover, Miyashita Hidekatsu was injured, and it was not suitable for him to undergo much emotional strain at this time.

As long as she pretended not to know, Miyashita Hidekatsu would naturally pretend not to know that she knew.

Everything would remain the same in the future,

A loving father, a dutiful daughter, a harmonious family.

"Come on, I'm not a child anymore," she said, rolling her eyes in response to Aoyama Xiu Xin's astonished look. "Do I really seem like an impulsive and immature person to you?"

"No, not really, but at least you seem quite mature physically," Aoyama Xiu Xin replied solemnly.

Miyashita Ryouko, not in the mood for jokes, closed her eyes and said, "Just take me home."

Most people favor their kin over the principle, even if it festers within, very few actually turn in their own family for justice.

For Miyashita Ryouko, she wouldn't commit such an act of righteousness that ruptures family ties, not emotionally or for personal gain.

After dropping Miyashita Ryouko home, Aoyama Xiu Xin asked Jin Yucheng to take him to Ueda Hanon's house since his sister-in-law had already gone to bed, and he didn't want to wake her.

It seemed better not to disturb anyone and to wake Ueda Hanon instead.

One should cherish his own woman and not bother about other's women — standing up firmly against them is the highest form of respect.

Meanwhile, Miyashita Naoyuki, having learned that the shipment had successfully arrived, hurried to the warehouse.

Yuan Guzhu, who was directing the workers to unload the goods from the truck, approached him proactively when he saw him arrive.

"Mr. Miyashita, you came after all. There was no need for you to rush over so late; you need your rest."

Miyashita Naoyuki's commitment to the business pleased yet troubled Yuan Guzhu; pleased because it showed he really wanted to manage the business well, but troubled because it had been agreed that Naoyuki would only share in the profits without involving himself in daily operations. This was not favorable for his management.

Yet, Yuan dared not voice any objections, for Miyashita Naoyuki was not only the main financier but also a major support.

"It's fine, my rest has already been interrupted by other matters tonight," said Miyashita Naoyuki grimly before asking, "Have you checked the count?"

"Come over here," Yuan Guzhu gestured to a young man with a bowl haircut to come over and told Miyashita Naoyuki, "He pulled tonight's goods from the dock."

"Boss!" The bowl-cut greeted respectfully with a bow.

Miyashita Naoyuki, sizing up the not-so-bright looking bowl-cut, frowned slightly and lifted his chin, "Have you counted them? No issues with the numbers, right?"

"Hey! Boss, don't worry at all, there's no problem, fifty boxes, all intact and brought back," the bowl-cut replied obsequiously, with a pleasing smile and nodding eagerly.

Miyashita Naoyuki, annoyed by his fawning manner, waved him away and walked over to a few boxes that had already been unloaded, pointing casually at one and commanding, "Someone come here, open this up and check."

He wasn't doubting the goods; he just wanted a closer, more personal interaction with his money-making venture.

"Hey!" Immediately, a worker came running with a crowbar to pry open the box, and as the box was opened, what lay neatly inside were mangoes.

Miyashita Naoyuki was taken aback and turned to Yuan Guzhu, exclaiming, "Has the supplier started using fruit as a cover? This better not come out of our costs, right?"

Fruits in Japan are quite expensive.

"Fruit?" Yuan Guzhu, arranging tasks for his subordinates, paused and then suddenly had an ominous premonition. He hurried over, his heart sinking as he looked at the box of mangoes, and quickly began rummaging through it, unveiling layers of oiled paper wrapping under the mangoes.

Relieved momentarily at the sight, his expression changed as he grabbed one of the wrapped items hurriedly, tore open the paper, and then promptly shrieked in horror, dropping what was in his hands.

"Ah!"

It was a sleek, gleaming submachine gun.

The other workers, witnessing this, were stunned.

"Guns! Why are there guns in our boxes?"

"Weren't we supposed to be carrying cigarettes? No one mentioned gun trafficking! I'll need a raise to handle this!"

"Open all the boxes right now!" Miyashita Naoyuki's face dramatically changed as he shouted at the bewildered workers.

All the workers sprang into action, prying open one wooden box after another. While more than twenty boxes contained plastic bags and cigarettes, the others all held mangoes with guns and bullets.

The warehouse suddenly became eerily quiet, everyone looking at each other, eventually all eyes turned to Miyashita Naoyuki.

Waiting for his boss to come up with an idea.

"idiot! Where's my cigarette?" Miyashita Naoyuki roared as he swiftly lunged forward and grabbed the pot-lid-haired man by the collar, "Scum! Where's my cigarette? Didn't you say it was no problem? Is this your idea of 'no problem'? A useless fool who only succeeds in failure!"

"I... I don't know!" The pot-lid-haired man was also confused, fumbling his words, "I... I just followed the workers' instructions after finding the container with the delivery slip! I even opened one box to make sure they were cigarettes before I started moving them. It has nothing to do with me, really, it doesn't, boss, please see the truth!"

"You want me to look into it? I'm no cop..." Miyashita Naoyuki cursed in irritation upon hearing that.

"Mr. Miyashita, please calm down, there must have been some mix-up during transportation; our goods got swapped with somebody else's by the loaders," suggested Mr. Enokida, who was the first to recover and swiftly stepped forward to calm him.

"Damn it!" Miyashita Naoyuki, with a face full of anger, finally let go of the pot-lid-haired man and vented his frustration by kicking a wooden box. "Nearly thirty boxes of cigarettes gone; there's no profit in this deal."

There was still some profit to be made, actually.

But to him, small profit was equivalent to a loss.

Especially since the business had just started; buying the goods and bribing customs and Maritime Security Bureau officials had cost a lot. Finally, when a batch of goods arrived safely at the shore without any issues, half of it was lost.

It made him want to kill someone.

He had nearly lost his life first, and now the goods.

All the damn troubles had accumulated till tonight!

"Everyone, leave for now." Mr. Enokida dismissed the workers, and once everyone had left, he softly and gently spoke to Miyashita Naoyuki like pacifying a child, "Mr. Miyashita, the situation is what it is, there's no alternative now. We can always make the money back later; let's deal with the immediate trouble. This batch of guns is like a hot potato; we should get rid of it quickly. I suggest we sink it into the sea."

"Get rid of it?" Miyashita Naoyuki looked uncertainly at the boxes of firearms, and after a long pause, he finally spoke slowly, "Mr. Enokida, if I sold this batch of guns, wouldn't my loss be recovered? It seems too wasteful to dump them. Each gun is money! My money!"

"Mr. Miyashita!" Mr. Enokida was startled by his words, his voice raised several notches, and he earnestly and seriously advised, "Selling guns is a different concept from smuggling cigarettes. We have our stable income sources; why take such a risk for a momentary gain or loss? Haven't you heard the news about the new Minister cracking down on gun trafficking? Our connections are all at sea; we have no one inside the police!"

It's safer and more profitable just to smuggle luxury cigarettes and alcohol. Why choose a crooked path?

"Mr. Enokida, do you think there's a difference between smuggling guns and smuggling cigarettes and alcohol to me? Don't forget who I am! Who dares to investigate me? Who dares to arrest me?" Miyashita Naoyuki's stubbornness flared up, displaying his domineering attitude.

Mr. Enokida was left speechless; Miyashita Naoyuki's status indeed acted as a strong shield for him, but he remained worried and shifted his persuasion tactic.

"Mr. Miyashita, even if we decided to sell such a large batch of firearms, we wouldn't even find any buyers. We don't have the contacts in that area; perhaps let's just forget it?"

Miyashita Naoyuki was overly confident, unconcerned, "Finding channels is easy. There's nothing in Sapporo that Miyashita Naoyuki can't handle. Besides, the tougher the police crackdown on gun trafficking, the better a seller our stock will be."

Seeing the opponent resolutely set on making money from this, Mr. Enokida could only sigh in resignation, "Just be careful!"

"Don't worry, Mr. Enokida, my father was a hero murdered by Mitsuo Mutou for being too upright and clean! Who dares to stop a hero's son from making a little extra on the side?" Miyashita Naoyuki laughed heartily.

In the media, Mitsuo Mutou's motives for assassinating Miyashita Hidekatsu were portrayed as stemming from envy and spite due to Hidekatsu's strong governance and integrity, supposedly killing him as a form of revenge against society.

Naturally, this was orchestrated by Miyashita Hidekatsu; having been shot, he had to at least cash in on some reputation.

.........

Meanwhile, at the Japanese warehouse of the Titan Gang.

"Shit! What is this crap!" Jack kicked over a box of cigarettes in front of him, grabbed a subordinate by the collar and pulled him down, pointing at the cigarettes on the ground, "Tell me, what is this?"

"BOSS, cigarettes, these are cigarettes, BOSS," the subordinate responded, sweat pouring down his back, his dark face turning pale.

Jack Pi, burning with rage yet his demeanor eerily calm, asked word by word, "So buddy, where the fuck are my guns? Where are my beloved guns? Don't tell me they're under your eczema; I'll rip it open to check."

"It has nothing to do with me, BOSS! I checked everything and it was fine; they must have been swapped or messed up by someone," the subordinate stammered, sensing the hidden fury beneath his boss's calm.

"Bang!" Jack shot the subordinate dead on the spot, under the fearful eyes of everyone around, and said, "I don't want to hear excuses; good work gets rewarded, failure has a price!"

"Motherfucking hell! Dodged the customs only to lose the goods here! Note it down, from now on, send full containers from headquarters, no more consolidation! The saved costs aren't worth today's loss!"

Container shipping is divided into full container load and consolidation.

Full container load is when the goods alone fill up a container, and the owner is responsible for loading and shipping.

Consolidation is when the cargo from several owners adds up to fill a container for shipment, typically managed by the shipping company's workers.

Besides some large companies, most owners opt for consolidated shipping during transport.

The primary goals are cost savings and preventing damage from goods moving inside the containers.

Titan Gang used consolidation primarily to evade maritime police checks, as a mix of various goods makes it impossible for the police to inspect each box.

After venting, Jack calmed down slightly and said lightly, "This container's goods should all be from the United States to Japan. Our missing guns must still be in Japan, perhaps just taken by the owner of these cigarettes. Find them!"

The missing goods must be recovered; headquarters wouldn't care much otherwise, and the loss would have to come out of his own pocket, not to mention that it would give his rivals a reason to trouble him.

"Yes, BOSS!" everyone responded in unison.

Jack, feeling somewhat weary, kicked the wooden box in front of him, "Take these cigarettes down and share them with the brothers."

"Yes! Thank you BOSS!"

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