# 4 A TRAIL OF BUGS AND SECRETS
738 Words
I drove recklessly, speeding past the limit as I headed straight for Finston Hotel—an international five-star giant and today’s target. Once I passed through the main gate, security directed me toward the underground garage, which honestly made my job way easier. I parked Eleanor’s car in slot 701, its plain appearance sticking out awkwardly among all the expensive vehicles. I didn’t bother checking if it was locked. I wasn’t here for a stay. I wasn’t here for anything legal.
I came to Finston Hotel because I finally had a lead on him.
My obsession with the Yakuza had started the moment Uncle Jesse showed me that tattoo book. Something in me woke up that day—a reckless, dangerous curiosity. Most people would’ve been traumatized by what happened in Ikebukuro. It was frightening, brutal. But for a reason I can’t explain, the memory made my heart race. Their danger didn’t terrify me… it electrified me. Running for my life, the thin line between fear and thrill—it never sounded boring to me.
My life had been painfully empty even as a kid. Nothing excited me. Nothing stirred me. Until I saw those tattoos. Until the thought of him started haunting me. Someone I shouldn’t know. Someone I shouldn’t go near. And yet, I wanted to meet him more than anything. I was obsessed—deeply, terrifyingly obsessed.
Back in high school, my grades were good enough to become a doctor, but that future couldn’t satisfy me. I needed a path that would bring me closer to him. So I chose ITRC instead. With it, I could follow his movements, track his signals, learn everything I needed to know. I’d been studying coding, bugging, and debugging since I was seven. It was the only way to hunt a Yakuza. I didn’t care which one at first—I just wanted to meet one. But when I was twelve, I got my first real lead on him. Dangerous, elusive, almost impossible to capture on camera… but I didn’t care. I was going to find him. No one will ever understand how he saved me from myself without even knowing I existed.
I carried a fake ID in case security made things difficult, but getting in was easier than expected. I didn’t stop at the reception desk. I walked straight to the elevator and hit the button for the twenty-seventh floor. The elevator beeped as it opened, revealing a silent hallway. The entire floor had been booked under his name, and he wasn’t due back for at least an hour. Anyone caught up here would be killed instantly. That wasn’t an exaggeration. But I was willing to take that risk. I had everything under control—at least for now.
I tracked his group; I knew their precise location. One hour and thirty minutes away.
No hesitation—I went straight to his suite. I used my phone’s scanner to bypass the electronic lock since I didn’t have the actual key card. A soft click, and the door opened.
The room was stunning—massive, white walls adorned with expensive art, polished floors so glossy I could see my reflection. It felt larger than my entire apartment. I did a quick sweep of the living area before slipping into the bedroom. Everything was organized. Clean. Minimalistic. Dangerous men always lived like that.
I started bugging immediately—drawers, the chair, the bathroom mirror, even a shirt neatly folded in a case. Every corner that could hide a device, I used it. Time was running out.
I grabbed the pen and paper I brought and scribbled a message. Something simple. Something unmistakably mine.
Then I left the room, walking out as calmly as I had walked in. The elevator took me back to the garage. I debugged the cameras one by one, restoring them to their original state.
Today, luck was on my side. But he’d be back soon, and being anywhere near this place when he arrived was practically begging for death.
I started the engine and drove out of Finston Hotel, satisfaction buzzing in my chest.
Hopefully… he’d see my message.
… LET’S MEET UP SOON
** – Yours truly 🖤**
- Writer
