CHAPTER 14:
"The Voice From The Grave"

Dressed to suit, Light Yagami was flipped over on his back onto a rubber exercise mat by Demetre. They were both engaged in self-defensive martial arts exercises, for which Demetre was an expert through many years of practise. After a tiresome workout session, Light had had enough, and lay flat on the floor.

He breathed hard, and his heart beat quickly. His hair was drenched and his body glistened with sweat.

Demetre panted, looking similar, but stood tall, his karate Gi dishevelled. His chain and crucifix dangling between his chiseled pecs. In fact, Light had once mentioned that his friend had a body like ancient greek statue.

"You're getting better, Light," Demetre said. He extended a hand to Light. Light took it and was hauled to his feet. "Your police foundations courses taught you a lot, but you need more work. They taught you how to overcome an assailant and tackle him. But martial arts teaches you so much more and harmonies your mind, body, and soul. You can use it to subdue your enemy, but it is best to use your opponent's greatest strength against him."

Light straightened his black karate Gi and belt. "How did you get so good at this stuff, Demmy?"

"Self-taught and I stay in shape, exercising an hour a day. I also use the Bruce Lee method, no weights required. I glide my muscles to tone them. Being a vegetation also helps. Fatty meats have a way of making the body sluggish. You've toned down since we've begun these sessions, but as for your defensive tactics, you continue to fall back on your police training. It's bad form. Forget it all, and let me teach you properly."

Light nodded. "Yes, ol' wise and powerful sage," he said humorously. Light slicked back his wet hair. "I'm glad I took your advise and built this private gym on the penthouse floor of Tsuku-Yoki Tower. It makes things a lot easier. I have everything I need in this building. The house that L built, but that I re-built." Light laughed.

Demetre smirked. "When you first thought of purchasing this building, I thought you were crazy. It was L's de facto headquarters, and it was a lot of money. I knew how symbolic it meant to you, but to have the Tsuku-Yoki corporate main headquarters here in Japan, of all places, was taking a risk, especially with Near. Luckily, everything went off without a hitch, and you paid cash: Seven hundred and fifty-million, in fact, and quite a lot of money."

Light waved off the cost as it was mere pocket change.

The gym was housed in a room adjacent to Light's private office, which encompassed two-thirds of the penthouse floor. When he bought the building, he immediately began redesigning it, and included his own floor, with amenities that suited his needs. Most recently, he had built up a reputation as being the leading business tycoon Shinto Izanagi, CEO of the Tsuku-Yoki Corporation, with its main headquarters in Japan, and he wanted things his way.

He had purchased everything, and built up his business with earnings from stocks Morph helped him accumulate over the past fives years in secret, using information taken from the future.

Morph, able to travel back in time, made additional contact with him after the Yukaza Incident, and explained to him that he needed to invest in bonds and other diversification portfolios, and form associations with powerful people.

So, in the five years Kira was most active, he did exactly that, secretly, as his alias, for which he now used. Although Shinto Izanagi was rarely seen and only wore a red face mask when in public.

Demetre was his right hand man and he did most of the business associative stuff. Rumour had it on line that Mr. Shinto Izanagi was an older man who preferred to remain hidden and was afraid to show his face, self-conscious of his face scarring. It was a reasonable excuse and Light let it play out. Besides, it went well with his new persona.

If Near or any former Kira task force members saw Light, then that would create problems.

But Light didn't need to go anywhere. He had everything he needed in Tsuku-Yoki Tower, including a luxurious apartment adjacent his private office that had a beautiful birds-eye view of the Kanto cityscape, with its tinted and bullet proof windows, and adorn with some of the most expensive furnishings someone in his position would want.

The Tsuku-Yoki Corporation employed very few workers, but was a prideful business conglomerate with a reputation for excellence. And, being a man of such worth and power, he employed a few special people as protectors. Over the past year, his weaponized Death Note had come in very hardly in quite a few unique situations. And he had built a coalition of powerful people who served him under the new influence of his new Death Note—the Alpha Guard.

Light grabbed a towel from a hook on the wall and began to dry his hair. He tossed another to Demetre. He then asked how his business was going, and Demetre responded it was going very well.

The Tsuku-Yoki Corporation was a main distributor of high-tech goods. The genius of the business Light built was, his business made zero product but used itself as an arbitrator to become the top-marketer for everything that dealt with software and hardware systems. Being a go-between made him a lot of money without the expense.

Some would say his was shell corporation that used other businesses under an umbrella stamp, making them to do all the hard work, while generating substantial profits at a high rate of return for him with every transaction. But money was money, and even a little accumulated capital turned into a lot when it continuously flowed.

The more those businesses succeeded, the more revenue his company generated.

Light had options in every one of the businesses he arbitrated.

So, when their stocks went up, he made money. If they did poorly, at any given time, and the markets did fluctuate, and they did from time to time, especially if a leader of a country engaged in trade wars with another and evoked tariffs on imports, he made sure his stocks remained neutral, using stabilizing bids, until the markets corrected.

The Tsuku-Yoki Corporation had countless locations around the world: Europe, the United Kingdom, Russia, and even China, with multi-billion dollar dealings. Less so in America, and he had yet to branch out in Canada.

Demetre picked up a computer tablet that he had placed on the floor near the door before they began their session and tapped on the screen. He checked his itinerary. And as he dried the back of his hair, with a thumb, he scrolled.

"This month is full for me," he said. "And I have to meet with a representative from Huawei next week, so we can start distribution talks. They'll be a huge client for us. I'm still amazed that you managed to build up this business in such a short time, while also acting as Kira. You were busy, Light. And I never knew you were so business savvy."

"Self-taught," Light smiled. "As soon as Morph told me what stocks to invest in five years ago—suggesting that I do so and to hide any money in secret offshore accounts—I began to dwell deep into self-help and tutorials. But I do my best trading online and from the safety of this building. It's funny, when I first found the Death Note and began using it, I frowned at people like myself. Rich people were living easy lives while so many struggled. Now, I have a different perspective. I can do a lot more good with my new found wealth and knowledge, than a police detective."

Demetre smirked. "You were reborn a little over a year ago, and you've done so much since then. You should be commended. I find it curious, however, that you haven't done much with the Death Note, other than collected a few human trophies with your new found abilities to do your bidding."

Light smirked. "I have to admit, the mouth guards were a bit of a gamble, and I wasn't sure how they were going to be utilized, but once I learned, with minimal difficulty, they've served my purpose well."

Just then, a computer screen embedded into the wall beeped with a message of an incoming call. It was part of a private internal system. Only a few had access to the channel. He tapped the screen, and suddenly a young face with black hair wrapped in a pigtail was plastered in full view.

"Mr. Izanagi, Hiro here," the young man said, "for your massage. You asked for one at one o'clock."

Hiro had been Prime Assistant to the Mistress of a Torture Den at the heart of the Dragon Sect of the Yukaza that Light took down during the Yukaza Incident.

With a slight altercation to events, thanks to Morph, Hiro had survived his brush with death against Terrance Claw's enforcer Nazareth. With a mere addition to the Death Note entry he wrote to kill Nazareth—by adding the word "now!"— Hiro was spared a broken neck and an immediate death. Nazareth was the one who was subjected to an immediate death instead. Back then, Light knew him solely as Riki. But Hiro Yamamoto was his real name.

Unfortunately, after he was freed from the Yukaza, Hiro's only known relatives, his grandparents, disowned him, after they learned what he had been doing over the years. It had not been his fault. He had been kidnapped at seven years old and forced into the sex trade. Being abandoned left him with nothing.

After Light learned of this, he brought Hiro under his wing, and into his fold.

Kira killed criminals, but Hiro had suffered so much in his life that the young man deserved a second chance at life. He was now Light's private masseuse. Normally a woman would provide such a function, but Hiro was verse in all forms of its practise due to his time in the Yukaza. He had also taught Light a few alternative things, as well.

"Very good, I'll be right out." Light ended the communication with the press of a button.

Hiro would be waiting for him in the outer offices, the call originating from his secretary's desk.

Demetre smiled at him, and Light asked him the reason behind it. "Ol' saviour of the meek, how very generous of the Mighty Kira," he said with a chuckle. "When you told me what Hiro did to you, I was surprised at your decision to resurrect him. I was equally bewildered when you wished for him to join our close knit Tsuku-Yoki family."

"Everyone deserves a second chance," was all Light said. "Besides, the boy knows how to keep a secret, and I hold no ill-will towards him for his actions." Hiro was now in his early twenties, but he still looked more or less like he had on the first day Light encountered him. "And he's happy to serve me."

"Oh, I bet he is," Demetre winked.

They left the gym through a sliding door and walked into Light's grandiose office. It took up two-thirds of the penthouse floor and had a cyclopic view of the Kanto Region cityscape, with its large, circular windows. Like his apartment, they were tinted—he could see out, but no one could see in—and bulletproof.

He walked to his oak top desk which was a situated at the far end of the room near the windows. All the walls were window, except for the wall to the outer offices, and a door to his personal apartment next door, that was only accessible by a computerized wall keypad—it filled the last one-third of the penthouse floor.

On his desk, apart from a laptop computer, a phone, and a few nicknacks, the two most prominent things on Light's desk were a scales of justice model cast in gold, that at the moment was leading a little more to the left with a small weight on a scale, and the red face mask that he used as part of his Shinto Izanagi persona.

The mask was a solid fit to the contours of his face. It was made of an industrial hard plastic, similarly used in paint-ball competition, constructed of a polycarbonate material for strength and was shatter resistant. It filled the whole of his face and was dark red with a black strip over the eyes slots. It looked similar to a theatrical Kabuki mask.

He pressed a button on a computer keypad on his desk for the door to his office to open remotely.

Hiro walked in, then immediately shut the door. He carried a folding massage table and a shoulder bag of items he always brought with him. They consisted of oils, lotions, and other medicinal items, he used in his work.

The weekly massage normally lasted an hour. It was, of course, only part and parcel of his job working for Light. He was also a Runner. If Light needed anything done of a personal nature, Hiro would do it without question. He said he owned Light a huge vow of gratitude for saving his life from the Yukaza, and he would do anything for him. And promised to keep Light's new persona a secret to the grave.

Light lied, and said the reason why he changed his name was because it was a form of witness protection. The Yukaza wanted him dead, believing he had killed Terrance Claw—a very powerful man within the Yukaza who had connections worldwide. He also explained that he was a financial wiz, and decided to join the business world when he could no longer be a detective. Hiro had no reason to doubt him.

Hiro unfolded the massage bed, it was black and leather padded. Light began to remove his upper Gi. He looked himself over momentarily and knew he was in the best shape of his entire life. He never felt more alive and so strong than at this moment. And he knew nothing would spoil his new found happiness.

"Would you prefer the regular treatment?" Hiro inquired.

Light gave a thin smile. "I'm feeling a little tense, so I would like the special treatment today."

"Very well, allow me to set things up. It will only take a few moments." Hiro took out what appeared to be a small tackle box from his shoulder bag which rattled as he put it down next to it. Then he brought out soothing lotions and oils in small glass bottles that were inserted into foam padding to prevent breakage.

Demetre gave Light a sideways glance. There was a distinct difference between the Regular and Special Treatment, or massage, and he knew what each entailed. Recently, he had become aware of certain quirks Light possessed.

'Special' here meant deep tissue massage instead of the basic rub, but it did involve a more thorough treatment than one would normally get, with what many referred to as a 'happy ending'.

Demetre was offered one of Hiro's famous massages, but he declined, feeling it would be appropriate, and against his basic religious beliefs. In this day and age, such things were commonplace—just not with him. Some would call his perspective ignorant on the issue, but Demetre didn't care.

He was a Christian with staunch values. Displayed proudly over his chest, on a golden chain that his parents gave him for his first communion, was a crucifix that he wore proudly.

"On that note, I believe I'll make myself scarce," Demetre stepped away. He still wore his Gi. "I have a few things that need my attention anyway. I'll change, then show myself out."

"No, Demmy, please stay," Light insisted. "Besides, I have some business I would like to discuss with you, and it involves our telecommunication network. We are expanding, as you know, and you are my greatest asset in our marketing strategy. You've help me overcome certain hurtles with some companies, and it has been instrumental."

"Why not just use the 'Y' Approach?"

Light gave him a look. "Not feasible, and I don't wish to repeat the mistakes of others." They both knew what that meant. It was Light who found out that the Yotsaba Group-a business not unlike his own-was eliminating their competition back when he was working with L, when he had lost his memory of the Death Note, and he didn't want to follow the same path they had. "Even someone with rudimentary computer skills could learn the truth if we did so."

Just then, the phone on Light's desk beeped.

Demetre went over and answered it, pressing a button, putting his tablet down on the desk. He saw Hiro begin his massage on Light, as Light laid down on the bed, his upper body exposed.

He turned away, and said, "Oui? Tréy Cottré here?" He said in a French accent.

On the other end was Light's secretary in the outer office.

Tréy Cottré was Demetre's new name. He had chosen a new name like Light. He decided a new one was warranted, since he became Light's right hand man in his new business enterprise. Hiro was one of only a handful who knew their real names. It wasn't criminal to change a person's name, but it was prudent if they wished to begin a new life.

Demetre was fluent in several different languages including Russian, English, Japanese and others, but Français was one of his better foreign tongues, and he could speak it with a perfect accent.

The female secretary said there was a representative calling on behalf of Lucky Dragon Industries. It was a subsidiary of a large telecommunications company. He wished to speak with Mr. Izanagi about a business affiliation.

Demetre muted the call. "Speak of the devil?" he said, then told him about the message.

Light's eyebrows rose at the coincidence. "Take the call, but don't tell this person I am here, or listening in," he said. Hiro continued with the massage across Light's back, but Light told him to revert back to the regular treatment.

Demetre nodded, then told the secretary to put the call through. Demetre then pressed Conference Mode.

There was a slight pause on the line, then suddenly, an unusual sound was heard. "Greetings! To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" came a weird synthesized voice.

Both Demetre and Light gave each other a sudden, wide-eyed stare.

The moment he heard it, Light gasped, and instantly every muscle in his body became tense, locked up as if every one were being trapped in a vice of steel.

The voice, or rather synthesized one, was the very same L had used. Light used a similar voice box when he pretended to be L, but even with it, a person's frequency was always different because no voice was alike.

This voice, however, had L's exact voice electronic frequency.

To be continued...