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The Crafty Journalist and the Spiritual Mafia – Part 03

Fields surrounded the expressway shooting out from the mountain’s base, cutting straight across the plains in a straight line. The massive soundwall designed for noise reduction did not stop the hum of speeding vehicles from traveling beyond the immediate vicinity.

Just off the highway, concealed behind a curtain of trees, three minivans were discreetly parked. Ten men from the Fujinota Future Society, sporting flashy jackets, had gathered there. Another five individuals joined, bringing the total to fifteen.

“Only five more people?”

Within the group, they naturally spoke using their native language. The Mafia man with a scar on his cheek seemed to be the leader.

“HQ insists it’s more than enough,” said one of the new arrivals. “And they don’t want us to use firearms ‘cause it tends to complicate matters.”

“Hmph.”

“You rounded up a lot of men. Is this job really that big? From what we’ve heard, it’s all about snagging some land.”

“The