“A double agent?” Captain Kenichi looked up at Blaine in shock. He had been bracing himself to be hauled off in chains, thrown into a League prison, and left to face whatever judgment came after.

“You’ve done a decent job these past few years. I’ve seen enough. I can vouch for you and give you a chance to make this right,” Blaine said.

It was pure bluff.

The League, a chance to redeem himself, official approval—it was all dressing. Blaine was borrowing the League’s name to lean on a Team Rocket infiltrator and get him to handle a private matter for him.

As for guarantees?

That part would be easy enough later. Strip Kenichi of his position, take away his access to weapons and power, and he could still live somewhere under League control, just not with much freedom to move.

That was the beauty of language. Blaine had taken a personal mess and turned it into League business with a few calm sentences. If things worked out, he could even call it a contribution later.

The future could wait.

Amber came first.

Once Agatha arrived, he could mention it to her and that would be the end of it. Amber was Agatha’s student. The League wasn’t going to go digging after that.

“I want to know why,” Kenichi said.

He wasn’t stupid. By now he had figured out this wasn’t some long-planned League sweep landing on his head today of all days. Something had changed.

Blaine had ridden this ship plenty of times before. If the League really wanted him, any of those trips would have done. Why this one?

By Blaine’s own logic, the infiltrators had already been exposed long ago and the League was only waiting to close the net. Acting now would only scare the snakes into hiding.

Whether he was handed to Blaine or to the League, Kenichi knew the ending for men like him was never good.

Still, he wanted the reason.

“I don’t mind telling you,” Blaine said. “The first mate’s son picked a fight with someone he never should have touched.”

That was as far as he could go, and it was another bluff wrapped in truth.

Trying to lay hands on Amber meant going after Agatha’s disciple. By any measure, that really was poking the wrong giant. So no, Blaine wasn’t exactly lying.

Still, truth only mattered when backed by strength. Without enough of it, nobody sat down and listened. In the end, the side with the bigger fist always got heard.

“So it was him…” Kenichi’s face darkened at once. He had warned people about that brat more than once. Spoiled, arrogant, and reckless—sooner or later he was bound to provoke the wrong person.

Usually the boy got away with it by leaning on his status. Throwing his weight around. Bullying whoever he pleased.

And now he’d finally kicked steel.

The bastard should have died sooner.

Why did he have to wait until now? Why did he have to drag Kenichi and Itsuki down with him?

Kenichi was already living on a knife’s edge every day. He had to watch every word and every move. And that idiot still wouldn’t rein himself in, swaggering around the ship, taking what he wanted, acting like the world owed him.

If not for the bond between him and the first mate, Kenichi would have beaten the life out of the boy himself.

Now it was too late.

One fool’s sins had become everyone else’s problem.

His son had almost been dragged under with them.

That bastard deserved to die.

“And him?” Kenichi asked.

“Already handled,” Blaine said. “Now it’s just you and the first mate. Since your son wasn’t involved, what you’ve been doing under the ship can be overlooked. But only if you earn it.”

“Leader Blaine, I have one request.”

Kenichi made up his mind.

For his wife and child, he would betray the man who had been his brother for more than twenty years. Even a friendship forged through blood and shared danger had its limit. In the end, it couldn’t outweigh his own family.

Time wore everything down.

A man. A bond. Twenty years of brotherhood.

Given long enough, even that could go thin as water.

“Go on,” Blaine said. Now that he had the man leaning his way, he could afford to hear him out.

“Please take Itsuki into Cinnabar Gym.”

The moment he said it, Kenichi dropped to his knees.

If he had to spend the rest of his life as an infiltrator, or worse, a double agent, then so be it.

But Itsuki knew nothing.

Kenichi wanted his son to have a different future. He wasn’t asking for greatness anymore. Not wealth. Not power.

A man in Team Rocket had no right to ask for much.

But he could ask for this: that his son not walk the same road he had.

Even an ordinary life would be enough.

Blaine rubbed his chin and thought it over for a moment. “Fine.”

It was a small thing. More importantly, if Kenichi was going to claim he’d come over to the League’s side, then a hostage of sorts had real value.

Blaine hadn’t even considered it until the man offered.

Now that he had, there was no reason to refuse. Taking Itsuki into Cinnabar Gym would serve as both protection and leverage.

Kenichi likely understood that too. Once he stepped away from Team Rocket, he could never expect their trust again. That made him a discarded piece, and discarded pieces drew less attention. It would also make it easier for him to work quietly for the League side of the board.

“Thank you, Leader Blaine.” Kenichi rose from the floor at last.

He had found his son somewhere safe.

At Cinnabar Gym, under Blaine’s protection, Itsuki would be far better off than he ever would have been in Team Rocket, or out on assignment as an infiltrator.

This life was no way to live.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Blaine said. “Handle the first mate first, and keep it quiet if you can. Once he’s gone, the black market shuts down. You stay on as captain, and when the ship reaches Cinnabar, your son gets off there.”

“I understand.”

Kenichi nodded at once. The moment he accepted his new role, his mind started working like it always had—quickly, practically, and with both sides of the board in view.

Selling out his old friend would be his entry fee.

He didn’t hesitate.

“He trusts me. I can bring him into the captain’s cabin and put him down there.”

“Do it your way,” Blaine said. “If anything goes wrong, send a signal at once.”

Then he added, “You understand this already, but the League will never truly trust you. Not unless Team Rocket is wiped out completely.”

“I know.”

Kenichi knew exactly what that meant.

Infiltrators never ended well. Double agents ended worse.

Every step was a tightrope over the abyss. One mistake and you were gone.

He had already stopped thinking about his own future. At this point, a decent death would be enough.

For Itsuki, he only wanted one thing: that when the ship reached Cinnabar, the boy would get off with his mother and leave the sea—and everything tied to it—behind for good.

“I’ll wait for your good news.” Blaine gave his shoulder a light pat, then left the captain’s bedroom.

Not long after, Kenichi stepped out as well. He glanced toward the room where the first mate’s son had been staying. There were no guards outside anymore.

So Blaine hadn’t lied.

This was real.

It had already begun.

Kenichi would have to move before his old friend had time to notice anything was wrong.

Luckily, the man’s son loved sleeping late. At six or seven in the morning, it was nothing unusual for him to still be in bed. No one would suspect a thing.

Kenichi headed down the corridor and up toward the captain’s cabin. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, carried himself the same way as yesterday, and showed none of the nerves a man should have before betraying his closest friend.

Then again, he had been acting for more than ten years.

He’d spent over twenty years undercover. Sometimes he almost forgot he was one.

Back when he was still a nobody, just another sailor, Team Rocket had quietly backed him as he climbed, rung by rung, all the way to captain.

Without Team Rocket behind him, his rise would have made a fine story. A nobody making something of himself. The kind people loved to praise.

And then one day the truth comes out.

He’s Team Rocket.

At that point the League would look ridiculous. Then again, if one of the Elite Four ever turned out to be Team Rocket, that would slap the League even harder.

Kenichi went through his usual routine in the captain’s cabin, checking on the crew, walking the floor, then settling into his chair. He picked up the intercom and called his old friend below deck in the same casual tone he always used, telling him to come up.

It didn’t take long.

The first mate came up by elevator, and by the time he entered the cabin, Kenichi was already pouring drinks.

As soon as his old friend stepped inside, Kenichi sent everyone else out. The ship could stay on autopilot for a while. He wanted to talk alone.

“Brother, what happened? You called me up in a hurry.” The first mate wasn’t suspicious. Only puzzled. They did talk in the mornings sometimes, but usually when the ship was nearing port. This was much too early for that.

“We got word from above.”

Kenichi didn’t say what kind of word. He only handed the man a glass.

“Above?” The first mate knew exactly who that meant. Team Rocket. Who else?

He took the glass and drank half in one go, wetting his throat. Kenichi always kept better liquor than anyone else.

“How’d things go below?” Kenichi asked. He drank too, but not from the glass with poison in it.

“Same as always. You know that better than I do, big brother. This route only has so much profit in it. The people above take most of it, and we still have to pay off the League on top of that. There’s barely anything left for us.”

“Yeah,” Kenichi said with a sigh. “Year after year. Paying tribute. Paying taxes. They get fat, and we get what’s left.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The money above deck. The money below deck. Everyone took their share. After all these years at sea, he still hadn’t truly managed to save much.

“But why bring this up all of a sudden?” the first mate asked. If this was just going to be a morning for complaints, then it was a waste of time. He could’ve stayed below and played with women instead.

“Nothing. Sit first.” Kenichi smiled and poured him another drink once the first was empty. Then he let out a long breath. “Brother, I still remember that knife I took for you. Almost killed me.”

“If you hadn’t stepped in that day, the pirates would’ve gutted me instead. I’ve never forgotten it. That life has always been yours. I just never got the chance to pay it back. I’m sorry, brother.”

Whenever the old story came up, the first mate spoke with real respect.

They had grown up in the same fishing village. They’d struggled together, climbed together, and held each other up all the way here.

Kenichi laughed and raised his glass. “Drink.”

For a moment he looked genuinely happy that the man still remembered.

Then the feeling went cold.

Because now he had to kill him.

He watched his old friend finish another glass and thought, I’m sorry. I have no choice. I have a wife. I have a son. Don’t blame me.

The truth was, this ending had been waiting for them ever since the day they were forced into Team Rocket as young sailors trying to claw their way upward.

That was how this life ended.

He didn’t want to kill his brother.

But if he didn’t, others would kill him.

They’d kill his wife.

They’d kill his son.

And even after he killed him, death would still be coming.

That was the fate of men like them.

There was never going to be a good ending.

Still, Kenichi wanted to save his family.

That was why he would finish this, no matter what it cost him.

“You still remember it that clearly…” he said.

The first mate laughed. “Big brother, how could I forget something like that?”

He had already been drinking below deck earlier, and now, two glasses later, he was drifting into that warm half-drunken state again. He was happy. He hadn’t had a real heart-to-heart with Kenichi in a long time.

“If you had a chance to repay that life now,” Kenichi asked quietly, “would you?”

“Big brother, what kind of cha—”

The rest died in his throat.

Black blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. He stared at Kenichi, then at the empty glass in his hand, and understood everything.

The glass slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a hard clatter.

It didn’t break.

Slowly, the first mate pushed himself to his feet. Blood still bubbled from his lips as he forced out the question.

“Big brother… why?”

“You still call me big brother, so I’ll tell you,” Kenichi said, turning his face aside. He couldn’t bear to meet the man’s eyes. “I’m doing this for Itsuki.”

The first mate laughed once under his breath.

Then again.

Then harder.

“I see. I get it now, big brother.”

One hand pressed against his stomach as he dropped back into the chair. With the other, he drew the knife at his waist.

He understood it all now.

His big brother had decided to make him carry the blame so his son could live.

And yet he didn’t hate him.

This life had belonged to Kenichi from the day of that old knife wound anyway. He’d lived long enough. Giving it back now was nothing.

“What are you doing?” Kenichi asked. The moment he saw the knife, he finally looked straight at the man. Even now, he didn’t dare step too close. He was afraid his brother might lunge with his last breath.

“Big brother, I owe you this life. But dying from poison’s too pathetic. You know me better than anyone. Let me do it myself.”

The first mate showed his teeth in a savage grin. Then the grin vanished, and he said, almost pleading, “Big brother… take care of my son for me.”

The blade went in.

With the last of his strength, he drove the knife into his own stomach.

Then he stopped breathing.

Even in death, his eyes stayed open.

Kenichi let out a long breath. “I promise.”

He reached out and closed them with one hand.

He didn’t want the man to leave with that look still on his face.

The truth was, his old friend could still look after his son from the other side.

After all, the boy had gone ahead of him already.

This whole mess had started because of that kid, but the first mate never knew that.

Maybe that was for the best.

At least he hadn’t died with regrets.

[End of chapter]

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