The grand hall buzzed with quiet conversations and the rustling of silk as Yokohama's elite gathered under a sky of paper lanterns. The banquet, hosted by a high-ranking Shogunate official, was a spectacle of elegance, intended to mask the growing tensions brewing between the powers of old Japan and the foreign emissaries pressing for treaties. For Léopold, it was a battlefield as dangerous as any alleyway—a delicate web of political intrigue, betrayal, and deceit.
Léopold slipped through the estate gates like a shadow among wolves. He wore his Assassin's attire: a dark blue overcoat with silver trim, the hood drawn low over his face, concealing his features in shadow. To the casual observer, he appeared like an exotic foreign guest—another European figure absorbed into the swirl of new influences in Japan—but beneath the fabric of diplomacy, danger simmered.
Beneath his coat, hidden but always close at hand, his concealed blade rested along his forearm, and a pair of throwing knives were tucked into the folds of his belt. He would not use them unless necessary, but in a place like this, it was better to be prepared.
The banquet hall was alive with muted conversations. Léopold moved quietly through the sea of silk and steel, weaving between guests without drawing attention. A predator among the oblivious. Bowls of miso and trays of sake passed from hand to hand, but Léopold had no interest in the refreshments.
Then, through the haze of conversations and drifting sake, she appeared. Léopold recognized her immediately, despite the disguise.
As Léopold surveyed the room, the air shifted. A figure entered the hall, catching his attention with an aura both familiar and wild. It was Kagerou Imaizumi, but she was far from her usual self.
Her hip-length dark auburn hair swayed gently as she moved, and the sharp gleam in her red eyes was carefully softened, though no less dangerous. Her wolf ears were hidden beneath her hair, and the slightest trace of black fur peeked from under the long sleeves of her dress.
Her clothing was mesmerizing: a long-sleeved dress inspired by the Hanafuda card for Pampas Grass and the Full Moon. The crimson fabric symbolized the sky at dusk, the white sections mirrored the pale glow of the moon, and the black, hash-patterned trim evoked a hill covered in wild pampas grass. At her neck, a brooch—red as blood—fastened a loose black cloth that draped gracefully over her shoulders.
She moved with practiced elegance, her every step a delicate performance that masked the primal force beneath.
Léopold shifted slightly, angling himself toward her. She spotted him immediately and approached with a small, composed smile, the guise of a refined guest slipping easily into place.
"Enjoying yourself?" she murmured, her tone light but edged with sarcasm as she brushed past him.
"Hardly," Léopold muttered back. "These people drown themselves in pleasantries while the city burns around them."
Kagerou's lips twitched, amused. "Sounds like a typical night."
The two stood close, speaking quietly enough to avoid attracting attention, their eyes scanning the hall. It was only under cover of this casual conversation that Kagerou's gaze sharpened, her voice taking on a more serious tone.
"Anything yet?"
"Fragments," Léopold replied, glancing toward the center of the room, where Ii Naosuke presided like a monarch. "The treaty is moving forward faster than we anticipated. And foreign diplomats have Naosuke's ear."
Kagerou's eyes narrowed slightly, and her claws tapped idly against the side of her dress, hidden from view. "Templars?"
Léopold gave a slight nod. "Most likely. If they succeed, they'll have Japan in their pocket before anyone realizes what's happening."
Her gaze drifted briefly over the foreign emissaries gathered around Naosuke. "The daimyo won't like it."
"They don't have to like it," Léopold murmured. "They just have to fall in line."
Kagerou adjusted the loose fabric draped around her neck, eyes never leaving the room's key players. "So what's the plan?"
"Find anything concrete. If we can't, we'll follow their key agents after this banquet ends." Léopold's voice lowered, a flicker of tension creeping in. "The Templars know we're here. If we wait too long, we might not get another chance."
Kagerou nodded, her wolfish instincts stirring beneath the veneer of sophistication. "We don't leave empty-handed."
Her words carried a subtle threat—whether against the Templars or the night's uncertainties, Léopold couldn't quite tell.
As the crowd shifted, Léopold leaned closer, their postures remaining relaxed to avoid suspicion. "There's a corridor leading toward Naosuke's private chambers. I saw a few interesting faces heading that way earlier. I'm going to check it out."
Kagerou's brow arched slightly. "And leave me with this circus?"
"You blend in better," Léopold replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Besides, someone has to keep an eye on the diplomats."
Kagerou rolled her eyes but didn't argue. "Fine. Just don't take too long. If things go sideways, I'm not bailing you out."
"I'd expect nothing less," Léopold said, turning toward the side corridor. "If anything happens, signal me."
"Of course," she muttered, adjusting her brooch absently. "You'll know."
With that, she melted seamlessly back into the crowd, her eyes sharp and alert beneath her carefully constructed guise.
Léopold's footsteps were soft against the polished wooden floor as he moved deeper into the corridor, the flickering lanterns casting shadows that danced along the walls. The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and incense, a reminder of the opulence surrounding him. He paused at a small window, peering through the delicate shoji screens into a quiet garden, where moonlight spilled across neatly pruned bonsai trees and gravel paths. But there was no time for reverie. He pressed onward.
The corridor branched into two directions—one leading to a private meeting room, the other to a storeroom. The muffled sounds of the banquet faded completely, replaced by an eerie silence that buzzed in his ears. He could feel the tension coiling within him, like a tightly wound spring ready to snap.
Choosing the meeting room, Léopold crept closer, straining to listen. The soft murmur of voices reached his ears, punctuated by the occasional rustle of paper. He pressed his ear to the door, carefully hiding his presence. The voices were low, conspiratorial.
"—the negotiations with the foreigners are critical," one voice murmured, edged with tension. "If we allow them to gain a foothold, the shogunate's power will wane."
"Precisely," another voice replied, deeper and more authoritative. "We must ensure that the foreign influence is kept at bay. Our resources are too precious to squander."
Léopold's heart quickened. The stakes were higher than he'd anticipated. He leaned in closer, heart pounding as he caught snippets of their plans.
"They intend to disrupt the trade routes, weaken our economy," the first voice continued. "If we don't act swiftly, we'll lose everything."
"The foreigners may be a necessary evil," the deeper voice conceded, "but we will not let them sideline us. The shogunate has already opened the gates too wide—if we allow these foreigners too much influence, we'll become little more than their puppets."
Léopold pressed closer to the door, catching every word. This was more complex than simple sabotage; they were walking a tightrope, trying to leverage the foreign presence while maintaining control. The plot was delicate—and dangerous.
"The key," Yoshikawa added, "is to extract what we need from them: weapons, knowledge, connections. But we must control the terms of the exchange. If we let them dominate the trade networks, they will choke us into submission."
A moment of silence fell over the room, the weight of his words sinking in. The stout man shifted in his seat, his brow furrowing. "But we cannot be too hasty with our approach, Yoshikawa. If we come off as too aggressive, these foreigners will retaliate. They have their own interests, and they won't hesitate to defend them."
Yoshikawa nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I'm aware. But we cannot show any weakness, either. We need to project strength while remaining cautious. It's a delicate balance—one that requires finesse."
"And what of our allies?" the third man asked, his tone skeptical. "They won't sit idly by while we negotiate with the foreign powers. The Assassins will interfere, and their influence could sway public sentiment against us."
Yoshikawa waved a dismissive hand. "The Assassins are scattered and distracted. Their ideals will blind them to our machinations. We simply need to keep them occupied long enough to solidify our position."
The stout man leaned forward, a glint of concern in his eyes. "We're already walking a tightrope. One misstep, and we could provoke a crisis that would escalate beyond our control. We need to tread carefully—very carefully."
Yoshikawa's voice grew more intense, the conviction clear. "We must stage a protest, a show of force that will demonstrate our resolve to the foreigners. If we can orchestrate dissent against their presence, we can sway public opinion to our side. It must appear spontaneous, but it needs to be carefully timed."
"And how do we do that without arousing their suspicion?" the stout man asked, skepticism threading through his voice. "We can't let them know we're pulling the strings."
"Simple," Yoshikawa replied, a smirk creeping across his face. "We plant seeds of discontent among the local merchants and citizens. We'll spread rumors of exploitation, highlight incidents where the foreigners overstep their bounds, and stoke the fires of resentment. If we can frame the narrative correctly, it will look like the people are rising up against their oppressors."
The third man nodded slowly, his expression shifting from doubt to understanding. "And in the chaos, we can negotiate from a position of strength. We'll have the locals rallying behind us, giving us leverage in talks with the foreigners."
Léopold could almost feel the danger radiating from their words. They were playing with fire, and the consequences could be catastrophic. This was more than a plan; it was a calculated manipulation of the very fabric of society.
"We will meet again before the protest," Yoshikawa declared, his tone resolute. "We need to finalize our approach and ensure our allies are in line with the plan. We can't afford any slip-ups."
As the conspirators continued to hash out their strategy, Léopold's mind raced, considering the implications of their words. He needed to gather more information to understand the true scope of the threat. Just then, he heard the distinct sound of approaching footsteps, and his pulse quickened.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door creaked open, and Léopold instinctively pressed himself into the shadows, heart pounding. The tall figure of a foreign advisor emerged, dressed in a finely tailored suit. He looked around, his piercing blue eyes scanning the hallway with an unsettling intensity.
Léopold held his breath, every instinct screaming for him to flee. But before he could retreat, the advisor's gaze snapped toward him, recognition dawning in an instant. "You!" he shouted, voice laced with contempt.
Léopold's pulse quickened, realizing he was cornered. The Templar had seen through his disguise, his identity laid bare in the advisor's knowing glare. This was no ordinary diplomat; this man was dangerous, someone who had spent years maneuvering through the treacherous world of politics.
"You've overstayed your welcome, Assassin," the advisor taunted, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. "How delightful it is to see one of your kind floundering in our territory."
Léopold forced a smile, masking the urgency brewing within him. "Just here for a bit of sightseeing, nothing more."
The advisor stepped closer, an air of superiority radiating from him. "Sightseeing? In a place reserved for dignitaries and influential figures? You must have quite the nerve."
With a sudden rush, Léopold's instincts kicked in. He had to warn Kagerou before it was too late. He couldn't risk the Templar alerting the others to his presence.
"Then I suppose it's time I left," Léopold said, feigning nonchalance as he turned, heart racing as he bolted down the corridor.
Léopold didn't look back, feet pounding against the wooden floor. He could hear the commotion behind him as the advisor called for guards, but he pressed on, fueled by a sense of urgency that burned in his chest. He had to find Kagerou.