Ryoma doesn't let go of the phone. His hand stays there, firm enough to stop it, careful enough not to escalate things further.
In his head, the outcome is already clear, once the police get involved, this stops being something he can control. Questions will come, and answers will lead to places he has no intention of exposing.
So he steadies himself, choosing his words more carefully, knowing he'll have to guide this conversation somewhere safer, somewhere Nakahara will listen first, react later.
"How do you think I got out of there?"
Nakahara blinks, caught off guard, his expression tightening as he actually considers it.
"They just wanted to talk to me," Ryoma continues. "Their boss… he was looking to make a deal. And the gun… that was just their way of making sure I didn't walk off."
"A deal?" Nakahara frowns. "What kind of deal?"
"They offered me money to lose," Ryoma says evenly. "If I ever fight Aleksandr Volkov."
