Tokyo: Rabbit Police and Her Evil Partner

Chapter 558: Turn around and find the shore
The streetlights cast two long shadows.

Fushimi Shika walked at the front of the alley. He knew someone was following him and that the alley was the best ambush point, so he deliberately slowed down.

The pursuers behind them seemed unwilling to miss this opportunity and gradually quickened their pace, seemingly unconcerned about being exposed.

Hooked.

Fushimi Shika wasn't nervous at all; on the contrary, he was secretly pleased.

It's highly likely that his sting operation succeeded. As long as the culprit is caught, the negative impact of the variety show can be reversed—people will only remember the successful person, not how they became successful.

Then he could turn around and mock Watanabe Shun and the others for their stupidity, while also boasting about how clever and wise he was...

Fushimi Shika walked slower and slower, almost standing still.

He walked against the streetlights, pretending to be too scared to walk, but in reality, he was revealing his triumphant expression.

As expected, the stalker suddenly reached out and patted Fushimi Shika on the shoulder.

Fushimi Shika unleashed the Lightning Five-Strike Whip, a move he created himself. It involved slapping his opponent several times with his backhand, using speed and power to stun them and achieve a surprise effect.

However, his hand froze mid-air.

The stalker wasn't wearing a mask, a hat, or even a tracksuit; he was just wearing a plain, cheap suit.

Upon seeing Fushimi Shika's face, he neither pulled out a knife nor any weapon, but instead revealed a surprised smile: "Mr. Fushimi, it really is you... I saw you just now, and for a moment I didn't dare to recognize you."

Fushimi Shika looked him up and down; a familiar-looking young man stood before him. Unfortunately, the streetlights were too dim, and they were almost at the end of the alley, so he couldn't see clearly. Fushimi Shika had excellent eyesight, but that didn't mean he could see black things in the dark.

He thought for a moment and quickly remembered that this was his former 'fellow prisoner'—the young man who went to Aum Shinrikyo to rescue his sister.

What was his name again...?

Just as Fushimi Shika was about to continue recalling, the young man scratched his head sheepishly, looking somewhat embarrassed: "It's me, Horie Kei... Never mind if you don't remember, sorry to bother you."

Fushimi Shika suddenly remembered, and was immediately disappointed. It turned out he had just run into an acquaintance and wanted to say hello, which made him happy for nothing.

"No, I remember you," Fushimi Shika said politely, then he remembered something: "Weren't you eating a bento?"

Horie Kei looked puzzled. "Eating a bento" is slang within the police force, meaning "going to jail," because prisons usually provide bento meals, just like the common saying "eating jail food."

Fushimi Shika could only offer an explanation: "I heard you were sentenced before."

"Oh, I'm ashamed to say, I was too impulsive at the time," Horie Kei said somewhat awkwardly. "I behaved well in prison and was granted probation."

"Eh...is that so?" Fushimi Shika asked curiously. As a lawyer, he was very interested in criminal cases, and his professional instincts kicked in, so he asked a few more questions: "Can you apply for probation in less than a year? Was it intentional assault or intentional homicide?"

Horie Kei seemed reluctant to talk about it, and he stood there looking somewhat uncomfortable: "It was intentional homicide... It's probably because the prisons are full these past two years, and more and more yakuza groups are going to jail, so housing is too tight, and they've released some people with minor crimes."

"Is intentional homicide a minor offense?" Fushimi Shika waved his hand: "I don't mean anything by it, I just want to know the private attitude of the prosecutor and the court."

“Oh, I see. But I’m not quite sure what they’re thinking either.” Horie Kei clasped his hands together. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

"No need to be so polite." Fushimi Shika shrugged, then asked Horie Kei if there was anything else, the subtext being that he was planning to make a run for it.

Watanabe Shun is still at home waiting for his beer. If he gets back late, the beer won't be cold and won't taste good.

Horie Kei understood the implication, bowed again in apology, and then hesitated before saying, "I just didn't expect... that Mr. Fushimi has become a celebrity."

Fushimi Shika's face fell immediately: "You mean that lousy TV show? It's completely made up."

"Huh? Is that so?" Horie Kei was surprised: "Then Mr. Fushimi's acting is very good. I didn't see any trace of acting at all."

"This is called method acting. I enjoy learning acting in my spare time, but I just do some part-time work at Fuji Television..." Fushimi Shika rambled on, trying to clear his name: "Anyway, what you see is all scripted."

“I see,” Horie Kei said with a sudden realization, then added regretfully, “That’s such a pity. I was just thinking of asking Mr. Fushimi for some advice…”

"What scriptures are you going to seek?" Fushimi Shika asked, puzzled.

“It’s really hard for a criminal like me to find a job. I’ve come to terms with it now and I don’t want to try anymore…” Horie Kei said, his tone becoming increasingly awkward: “Never mind, just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Fushimi Shika understood his unspoken meaning. It turned out that this kid wanted to learn the skills of being a kept man—the program team had created a kept man persona for him, which would naturally make the audience think that he was very good at manipulating the psychology of rich and beautiful women.

“It’s okay, just say it. Young people should be brave,” Fushimi Shika encouraged.

"It's... how do I get a rich girl to like me?" Horie Kei humbly asked for advice.

Fushimi Shika waited for Horie Kei to ask the question. He rested his chin on his hand and pretended to think for a while before answering, "Probably... because he's handsome."

"Hmm, anything else?" Horie Kei took out his notebook to write it down.

"Anything else?" Fushimi Shika was taken aback, then glanced at Horie Kei. This kid wasn't bad-looking either, with fair skin. He could definitely make a living off his looks, unlike Watanabe Shun, who would drool with envy whenever he heard the words "handsome."

It's a human flaw to like to teach, and Fushimi Shika is no exception. He pretended to think for a while and continued, "And then there's character. You have to have good character for love to last."

Horie Kei made an "Oh~" sound, his tone revealing admiration.

Fushimi Shika felt good; it had been a long time since anyone believed his nonsense. Whenever he uttered the words "good character," Kazama Takusai and the others would spit in disapproval.

"And then you need money, understand? Love without material support is like a pile of loose sand; no matter how hard you try, you can't hold onto it." Fushimi Shika uttered a classic quote from his previous life.

Horie Kei stopped writing: "But it's precisely because I don't have money that..."

Fushimi Shika shook his head and said, "Then I can't teach you. Sometimes you just need to be down-to-earth." He patted Horie Kei on the shoulder: "To be honest, I'm actually a multi-millionaire, which is why I can date rich heiresses."

"Oh, is it really that profitable to resell bonds?" Horie Kei asked in surprise. "You've been watching the financial news?" Fushimi Shika withdrew his hand, his smile fading.

"Yes, I did see it, but I didn't pay attention to it. Those things were too far away for me. Dating was more practical," Horie Kei said.

"The newspapers are full of slander and subjective opinions; the editors are clearly biased! All my business dealings are legal! The Financial Services Agency hasn't said anything, but the financial news outlets are interfering first?" Fushimi Shika was very unhappy.

"Well, actually I don't care about this..." Horie Kei took a step back, clearly regretting his attempt to strike up a conversation.

Fushimi Shika, not wanting to chat with him any longer, waved his hand, casually said goodbye, and turned to leave.

Everything was peaceful after that; no one was following him, and Fushimi Shika arrived home safely without incident. While drinking with Watanabe Shun, he was still pondering whether he should go out for a few more walks to have some time alone, giving the murderer a chance to strike.

If he stays cooped up at home all the time, the murderer might not even have a chance to kill him.

Watanabe Shun drank until 1 a.m. before finally falling asleep, tipsy. Fushimi Shika took a shower, and because he had been drinking, he smelled strongly of alcohol. Minamoto Tamako didn't want to sleep with him, so they all slept in separate rooms tonight.

The mansion is large enough with enough rooms; one room per person is more than enough.

The next morning, Fushimi Shika was woken up by his phone ringing. He didn't even glance at it and hung up immediately. But two or three seconds later, the phone rang again, as if it would keep ringing until he answered.

Fushimi Shika hadn't slept for eight hours and was still in a bad mood. Still grumpy from being woken up, he groggily answered the phone, putting it to his ear and saying irritably, "Hello? Who is this?"

"This is Anzu Murata," the voice on the other end of the phone said.

Fushimi Shika suddenly woke up. Murata Anzu was the head of the Special Investigations Division, in charge of the entire serial murder case. He rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat, and tried to make his voice sound very alert: "Good morning, sir. I was just taking turns with Minamoto Tamako to keep watch on a suspect. It was supposed to be my turn to sleep..."

"How's the investigation into Rika Mizutani's social circle going?" Anne Murata interrupted.

Fushimi Shika hadn't done any investigation, but he believed that Minamoto no Tamako had already done it all, so he answered without hesitation, "I've investigated everything and can report back at any time."

"Okay, in half an hour, we'll have a meeting in the conference room to review our work and discuss the direction of the investigation... Remember to notify Officer Yuan."

After saying that, Murata Anzu hung up the phone.

Fushimi Shika didn't get up. He closed his eyes again and called Minamoto no Tamako while lying in bed.

Gentama's biological clock is very accurate; she's already up and brushing her teeth at this hour. Hearing the ringtone of her pink flip phone, she answered with a garbled "Moshi moshi?" while still holding her toothbrush in her mouth.

"Commander Murata said there will be a meeting in the police station conference room in half an hour. Remember to attend and also ask for a sick leave for me."

Fushimi Shika finished speaking in one breath, and without waiting for Minamoto no Tamako's response, she hung up the phone decisively and buried her head in the pillow like a dead pig.

"What? Half an hour?!"

Gen Tamako exclaimed in surprise, hurriedly rinsed her mouth, and frantically changed her clothes. At the same time, she banged on Fushimi Shika's door, urging him to get up and go to work.

At first, Fushimi Shika wanted to stay in bed, until Minamoto Tamako shouted, "If you don't go to work, aren't you just proving that the content of the program is true?"

Now Fushimi Shika had no choice but to get up.

Half an hour was a tight schedule, and since Fushimi Shika lingered in bed for a while, there wasn't time to brush his teeth or wash his face. He could only resort to the same old trick: putting on a trench coat over his pajamas, slipping on his socks, and heading out.

Before leaving, Fushimi Shika poured a cup of water onto Watanabe Shun's crotch and said to the sleeping Watanabe Shun, "I'm up. It turns out the production team was spreading rumors!"

Unfortunately, Watanabe Toshiaki was still in a drunken stupor. He wouldn't react even if you poured water on his face, let alone poured it on his crotch.

On his drive to the police station, Fushimi Shika muttered to himself, feeling proud of himself for getting up early for work:
"People who get up at this time are the stars of the future, the pillars of the nation, the beacons of light in urban novels, the exceptional talents in common parlance, the self-disciplined individuals who examine themselves three times a day, the kings of the jungle in nature, the despisers of all ugliness and evil in the world, and the creators of all beauty and goodness in the world... Just thinking that I breathe the same air as these outstanding people makes me feel proud and honored."

Yuan Yuzi sat in the passenger seat, taking small bites of her sandwich, which she had bought on her way downstairs from a convenience store for breakfast.

She mumbled a complaint, "But you were clearly going to ask for leave this morning..."

"Shh!" Fushimi Shika reached out and raised a finger to interrupt, "Did I invite him? The process isn't important, the result is. Aren't I on my way to work right now? It proves that I am a diligent detective."

“But this is only your first day of getting up early for work.” Minamoto no Tamako’s definition of ‘diligence’ is different from Fushimi Shika’s.

“That’s not important. What’s important is that a prodigal son who returns is more precious than gold, and a bad person can become a Buddha on the spot after laying down his butcher’s knife,” Fushimi Shika casually gave an example: “For example, the guy I met last night, even if he killed someone, as long as he sincerely repents, society is still willing to give him a second chance.”

"Who is it?" Yuan Yuzi was taken aback. "The person who had dinner with us last night?"

"No, it was an old acquaintance I ran into on my way back from buying beer. You don't recognize him," Fushimi Shika said casually.

"You have old acquaintances I don't know?" Yuan Yuzi became increasingly suspicious, stopped chewing her sandwich, and started using the lie detector ahoge on her head.

Fushimi Shika briefly explained how he met Horie Kei, and reiterated, "As I said before, that's not important. What's important is that I got up early for work today."

Yuan Yuzi paused for a moment, her gaze unfocused, as if she were thinking about something.

Fushimi Shika was still rambling on, praising those who get up early and belittling those who get up late, saying things like, "People who aren't up by this time are a bunch of lazy dogs, good-for-nothings, maggots, monsters, cockroaches, sewer rats..."

In Minamoto no Tamako's eyes, Fushimi Shika's voice disappeared. She could only see Fushimi Shika's mouth opening and closing, but she could not hear Fushimi Shika's voice.

It wasn't until she heard a sudden stop that Yuan Yuzi's body jolted, and she came to her senses, realizing that blood was dripping from her nose.

She had another nosebleed.

Fushimi Shika noticed Minamoto Tamako's unusual behavior and quickly slammed on the brakes, asking, "What's wrong?"

Gen Tamako wiped the tip of her nose with her small hand and said seriously, "It's not important! Quickly turn around and go find that guy named Horie Kei!"

Fushimi Shika was taken aback. It only took him two seconds to guess what had happened—to be precise, he only realized at this moment that he hadn't been able to see Horie Kei's criminal index last night.

(End of this chapter)