Tokyo: Rabbit Police and Her Evil Partner

Chapter 585 Late Night Radio
Fifteen minutes later, Fushimi Shika got the radio as he wished.

Police tampered with the radio, adding a locator, a recorder, and a miniature bomb.

Fushimi Shika carefully inspected the parts, dismantled them one by one, and after confirming that there were no problems, began tuning the frequency:
"Test sound poetry..."

"This is the late-night radio station, 'Your Moon, My Heart,' and I'm the perfect man—I'm Fushimi Shika..."

"Today we have a special program for you. The radio hotline is xxx. You can call us during the Q&A session..."

Fushimi Shika casually grabbed one of the hostages and made him sit down next to him: "Now sitting next to me is Yoshiyuki Kawada, the head of the Foreign Affairs Division 2 of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. He is facing charges of serious crimes such as 'intentional homicide,' 'human trafficking,' 'serious dereliction of duty,' and 'collusion with a cult'... To save time, I will give him five minutes to defend himself."

As he spoke, he flipped the hourglass over: "Now, let's start the timer."

Kawada Yoshiyuki sat next to the small radio, stunned for a full three minutes.

In those three minutes, he realized that begging for mercy in private and publicly announcing his crimes were two different things. Besides, no matter what he said, he was going to die tonight.

Since I'm going to die anyway, I might as well leave behind a clean reputation.

Kawada Yoshiyuki took a deep breath, straightened his back, and looked firmly into the radio microphone.

His voice was steady and powerful, echoing in the conference room:
“Listeners, I am Yoshiyuki Kawada, Chief of the Foreign Affairs Division II of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. I am indeed in danger at this moment, but I want to tell everyone—the truth can never be distorted by coercion!”

He deliberately slowed his speech, each word ringing with conviction: "The police have never stopped pursuing the truth, and my colleagues are fighting for justice right now. Terrorists are trying to smear the judicial system with violence, but I want to say: Japanese law cannot be desecrated, and the dignity of the police badge cannot be tarnished!"

Kawada Yoshiyuki suddenly raised his voice, almost shouting, "Remember this frequency! Remember every word of this moment! No matter how they threaten us, true police officers will always uphold justice—"

"Great!" Fushimi Shika clapped enthusiastically.

Just as Yoshiyuki Kawada was about to continue condemning the terrorists' violent acts, the cell phone in the corner suddenly rang.

"It seems some listeners have called the radio hotline. Let's connect now and hear what they have to say."

Fushimi Shika answered the phone, placed it next to the receiver, and turned on the speakerphone: "Hello, this is Moon Live Radio. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

An angry male voice rang out: "That bastard still has the nerve to argue?! My sister disappeared after getting her visa. It was that guy Kawada who sold her to Aum Shinrikyo! She was only sixteen years old, and you just closed the case as a 'missing person'!"

"What are you pretending to be righteous for? Before the hourglass runs out, I want you to confess your crimes! Die, you scum!"

Another phone rang, interrupting the caller's conversation.

Fushimi Shika, holding the microphone, said, "It seems like tonight is going to be lively. The audience is very enthusiastic, and we've already heard what the previous listener said."

He glanced at Yoshiyuki Kawada: "Mr. Kawada looks terrible right now, his forehead is covered in sweat, he seems very nervous. There's only one minute left in the countdown, let's connect to the next listener."

Fushimi Shika pressed the call button, and the voice of the negotiation expert came through: "This is Sato from the Metropolitan Police Department's Crisis Negotiation Team. I understand your anger, but violence will only make things worse. Section Chief Kawata's crimes will be judged by law, and what you are doing now will only drag more innocent people into tragedy..."

Fushimi Shika hung up the phone impatiently.

He picked up the radio microphone and warned, "If the police keep hogging the hotline, I will immediately execute the hostages—as a warning, you will receive Yoshiyuki Kawada's body."

"Wait--"

Before Kawada Yoshiyuki could beg for mercy, the gun barrel appeared in front of him. A gunshot rang out, and a bloody hole appeared in his forehead. His consciousness sank into darkness, and he fell backward to the ground with a thud.

There was no commotion or screaming in the conference room. Everyone present was a seasoned elite detective, exuding a cold restraint. They sat silently around the long table, watching as their comrade's body was thrown out of the window by Fushimi Shika.

"Okay, next one."

Fushimi Shika rubbed his hands together expectantly and randomly called out a name: "Uesugi Rinya..." He had just given a name when another phone call came in.

Fushimi Shika answered the phone: "Hello?"

Kazama Takusai's voice came from the other end of the phone: "It's me. Do you even know what you're doing...?"

Fushimi Shika immediately hung up the phone, but another call came in right away; it was Moriki Masaaki. She had been asked by the police to intervene and persuade Fushimi Shika to stop, with the reward of reinstatement.

But as soon as she opened her mouth, Fushimi Shika hung up the phone.

After that, some acquaintances called in again, and Fushimi Shika had to warn him again that if they talked about anything unrelated to the trial, he would execute the hostages again, and the number of calls decreased.

Ultimately, the coverage of a small radio station is only about ten kilometers, roughly the size of a school. This is the type of station commonly used on campuses.

He knew that Gentama was listening, but Gentama never called back.

Over the next hour, Fushimi Shika executed twelve people by firing squad at a fixed rate of one person every five minutes.

Inside the meeting room, the hostages were on the verge of a breakdown; the wait for death was far more agonizing than death itself. The police had likely blocked the radio, and afterwards, no matter what Fushimi Shika said on the radio, there was no response, and no hotline calls came in.

Fushimi Shika didn't care. He amused himself by exercising the judicial privilege brought about by violence, executing all those he considered guilty based on the principle of equal punishment.

More than an hour later, it was finally Kujo Yui's turn.

Fushimi Shika sat at the other end of the conference table, facing her. The rest were either dead or maimed; the room was filled with the stench of blood. The highest-ranking officer of the Metropolitan Police Department stared at the criminals who were destined to become the most heinous criminals in Japanese history, remaining silent for a long time.

"I'll give you five minutes to defend yourself."

Fushimi Shika once again uttered that opening line, as if Kujo Yui was no different from anyone else in his eyes.

Kujo Yui remained silent.

She was no longer panicked; there was no sweat on her body, only black ash left from the explosion. She had straightened herself earlier; her clothes were still neatly pressed, her back was straight against the back of the chair, and her hands were resting peacefully on the table, crossed and clenched into fists.

Time ticked by, and she didn't speak until the very last second:
"I refuse to stand trial."

"If you want to kill me, you can just commit the violence directly; there's no need to whitewash the truth."

The hourglass ran out of sand, but Fushimi Shika did not make a move. He knew that Kujo Yui was right; if he punished a sinner in this way, he would become the greatest sinner.

Nothing you say can hide this fact.

Fushimi Shika stared at Kujo Yui, trying to find a flaw in her face. But Kujo Yui's face only showed exhaustion, and the sense of world-weariness left behind after the intense materialism lingered.

"Who do you think is qualified to judge you?" Fushimi Shika asked.

“I accept any fair punishment, at least it shouldn’t be you who judges me,” Kujo Yui said.

“Okay.” Fushimi Shika nodded and put the hourglass away. “You’ve convinced me.”

"Is that all?" Kujo Yui asked, shrugging.

"Of course not, I will find you a suitable judge."

Fushimi Shika stood up, placed his hands on the conference table, leaned forward, and stared into Kujo Yui's eyes: "I don't know why you are so obsessed with the position of Superintendent General of Police, and I don't know if you still remember your original intention—don't be fooled by those people kneeling down and begging for mercy, shouting that they are innocent, and cursing loudly, they all know in their hearts that they are guilty."

“But you’re different. You think I’m not worthy to judge you. Even if I kill you, it will only be a vile murder, a senseless act of violence—I want you to realize your crimes from the bottom of your heart, whether you admit it or not.” “How will you do that?” Kujo asked.

With the hostages nearly all dead, the special assault team had already surrounded all the entrances and exits, waiting only for the order to break down the doors and kill the kidnappers on the spot.

They are Japan's top counter-terrorism force, organized into three squadrons. Members must undergo at least six months of grueling training, including high-altitude rappelling and hostage rescue.

In addition, there is a security detail, with snipers already set up all positions, specifically responsible for protecting dignitaries. They are divided into four departments, with the fourth department handling emergency threats.

The Special Operations Vehicle Team was already on standby downstairs, equipped with armored vehicles, bomb disposal robots, and other specialized equipment, tasked with dealing with explosive threats. Even if Fushimi Shika strapped on a large number of grenades, they had a plan to handle it.

Kujo knew why they hadn't broken down the door.

Ultimately, it's because the Metropolitan Police Department has lost its credibility.

Some actions by the decision-making level alienated the executive level. Those in lower positions always want to rise, while those in higher positions never want to relinquish their power.

Japan's class system is becoming increasingly rigid, with an exceptionally strict hierarchy in the workplace, yet historically there has been a tradition of subordinates overthrowing their superiors.

Since the attack on the Metropolitan Police Department was outside its jurisdiction, and since the credit for the rescue was far from enough to warrant promotion, it would be better to wait until the kidnappers had killed everyone and made room for them before issuing a sorrowful obituary.

"Don't worry, if I dare to come, I can naturally leave."

Fushimi Shika took off her coat and draped it over Kujo Yui's head, tying it in a tight knot to ensure she couldn't see outside.

He then repeated the process, putting coats over all the surviving hostages, covering their faces, and binding their hands with rope to form a line.

Fushimi Shika dialed the negotiation expert's number: "I need a bus with a full tank of gas, and I demand that all police officers withdraw to a safe distance."

Negotiator Sato never expected the kidnappers to try to negotiate. Observing the kidnappers' previous behavior, he thought they were committing a suicide attack, the kind who would kill someone and then commit suicide.

Unexpectedly, this guy didn't finish the job and even tried to run away at the last minute.

Can they escape?

Negotiator Sato sneered inwardly, but outwardly maintained a mild tone, agreeing to all the kidnappers' demands. As soon as Fushimi Shika hung up the phone, he immediately notified his team leader.

The command team leader withdrew the assault troops from the corridor and notified all snipers to take their positions, ready to shoot the kidnappers as soon as they showed themselves.

A few minutes later, the thermal imager showed a human figure.

The first person walked out of the conference room, followed by the second, the third... a total of nine people walked out of the conference room, lined up in a straight line, entered the elevator, and went downstairs.

When they arrived at the lobby on the first floor, the team leader could see through binoculars a row of hostages with their heads covered by coats and their hands tied.

I didn't see any robbers.

The fourth division of the security department should have prioritized the rescue. Since the kidnappers were not present, they had no reason not to act and immediately went forward with their guns to provide support.

The captain in charge commanded, "Keep moving forward! Don't stop!"

The hostage at the very back suddenly shouted, "The kidnapper is hiding among the hostages! He has grenades and explosives on him!!"

The security detail scattered in a flash, while the special forces vehicle team, armed with riot shields, stood in front, but dared not approach within twenty meters.

The sniper asked his superior on the radio: "Should we fire? Which one should we take out?"

If the command leader cannot give the order and the police mistakenly kill the hostage, then that is his responsibility.

If the kidnappers are angered, all eight surviving hostages might be blown up.

After some deliberation, the team leader abandoned the strategy of directly eliminating the driver: "Everyone, spread out! Let them get on the bus first! Sniper number one, go to backup point two and take your position. Once the bus starts moving, take out the driver!"

"Yes!" the team member responded.

Snipers moved to change positions, special forces vehicles cleared the way, and a cordon was imposed everywhere. The parking lot at the main entrance of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department building was cleared out, leaving only one public bus.

The hostages groped their way forward and filed into the bus.

They found seats and sat down blankly, remaining motionless; no one took the initiative to go to the driver's seat.

"Number One is in position! Please give the order!" came the sniper's report over the walkie-talkie.

The team leader was somewhat troubled. It was clear that the hijackers were clever enough to know that they would be sniped if they sat in the driver's seat.

What should we do now?
The command team leader observed through binoculars, not rushing to make a judgment.

After a while, one of the hostages took off his coat. The team leader saw his face through binoculars and recognized him as Takeuchi Fan, the head of the traffic section.

Takeuchi Hon's left sleeve was empty, probably cut off by the kidnappers. He cautiously crossed the bus aisle, pulled himself up to the driver's seat by the rope, and started the car.

what happened?

Were the hostages coerced?

The command leader immediately ordered: "Cancel the sniping plan and deploy road spikes on the town roads!"

"Yes!"

The bus engine roared as it slowly pulled out of the Metropolitan Police Department gates. The Special Operations Vehicle Team followed in a car, and the Raid Unit was also deployed to various intersections to establish a cordon. Only the security detail remained at the Metropolitan Police Department to clean up the mess.

To prevent the kidnappers from having any other accomplices left at the scene, and to prevent any other explosive devices from remaining, the security team and deminers rushed into the conference hall.

The stench of blood was overwhelming, and the sight of corpses was striking. The blood-red words "Heavenly Punishment" on the wall were particularly eye-catching.

They put on thermal imaging cameras and scanned the area, spotting a figure on the building's rooftop.

Before the team members could even check the situation, they saw the figure leap down. The security captain quickly removed the camera and discovered that the person wasn't jumping, but rather using a rope tied around their waist to descend slowly, sliding down the staircase ramp to an advertising sign on the back street of the Metropolitan Police Department.

"The hijackers are still at the scene!" The security team reacted quickly, grabbing their walkie-talkies and shouting, "There are only hostages in the vehicle!"

He recognized the man; it was Fushimi Shika from the wanted poster.

The team members immediately opened fire, but the distance was too far, and the target kept moving rapidly from side to side, causing them to lose their aim.

It doesn't matter if we miss; this is a tactic to slow down the target's movement. The rest of the team members quickly went downstairs through the fire escape and surrounded the target from three sides.

They kept a close eye on the kidnappers, and even after they disappeared from sight, they could lock onto them using thermal imaging.

Unexpectedly, Fushimi Shika ran to the street corner, lifted the manhole cover, and jumped into the sewer with a splash.

(End of this chapter)