Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

Hideaki Shiraishi had heard that man's voice before; the man said at the bathroom door, "I want to go to the office to take a shower"... He heard those words while his head was still foggy.

He was quite resilient; he had been beaten many times before. At that moment, he was still somewhat conscious and tried to leave the toilet, but unfortunately, his clothes had been taken away, so he could only lie there in the stall.

Currently, he is filtering out residences without registered owners' occupations and making phone calls one by one, trying to find the owners by their voices.

Ring ring—

"Hello, I'm a staff member at Kiyaki Izakaya. The sake you ordered is out of stock..."

"You must have dialed the wrong number? I didn't make a reservation."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Hideaki Shiraishi tirelessly dialed the same number, using the same script.

……

Ring ring—

The landline rang.

Yuan Zhensheng turned off the gas stove; he was making breakfast. As a professional assassin, he had to prepare his own meals to ensure both nutritional balance and food safety.

Is it another telemarketing call?

He equipped himself with the "Stand's Throat," altering his voice, and then picked up the microphone: "Who is this?"

A slightly familiar voice came through the receiver: "Hello, this is a staff member from XiYao Izakaya. The shochu you ordered is out of stock..."

"Sorry, you dialed the wrong number." Yuan Zhensheng hung up the phone.

He frowned, vaguely sensing something was wrong. This was a sixth sense he had developed over many years in the industry—his conscious mind didn't remember Hideaki Shiraishi's voice, but his subconscious could recognize and perceive the danger within it.

Humans receive more than 1100 million bits of environmental information per second through their five senses, but less than 40 bits enter conscious awareness. The remaining 99% or more of the information is stored in the subconscious area of ​​the brain, forming implicit memories.

Therefore, he has great faith in his intuition.

Yuan Zhensheng carried his tray to the window and peered through the crack at the street. No one was watching him, and no suspicious people were loitering around.

No, something's not right.

He's had this feeling since yesterday, and it's even stronger today; there's a high probability that something bad is about to happen.

Yuan Zhensheng finished his breakfast by the window, washed up, left the police station dormitory, and clocked in for work as usual—he would withdraw the money later that evening.

Director Jiaofan, holding a thermos, stood beside his workstation and praised him:

"Yuan-kun, well done!"

He patted Yuan Zhensheng on the shoulder, a hint of pride on his face: "Yesterday, Detective Yamamoto from the police station called specifically to praise you for your hard work on the field, saying you didn't disgrace our unit!"

The director took a sip of tea with a satisfied smile: "Think about it, to receive praise from the head of the investigation division personally—what does that mean? It means that the talent we train is no less capable than that of the professional team!"

He clearly had no idea what had happened yesterday.

Yuan Zhensheng thought to himself that Section Chief Yamamoto was indeed shrewd, knowing how to take care of his juniors who were slacking off together. As the saying goes, it's better to slack off together than to slack off alone. If everyone slacks off together, then no one will report it, right?

What a harmonious workplace atmosphere!

He humbly said, "Thanks to the director's guidance, I am grateful to the director for giving me the opportunity to perform and gain experience!"

The director was very pleased and had even higher hopes for Yuan Zhensheng, encouraging him, "Yes, keep it up! Do a good job!"

"Yes!" Yuan Zhensheng almost stood up to salute.

Just then, the door to the foreign affairs office was pushed open with a bang, and the bell on the door jingled loudly.

Shinomiya Rin, sporting heavy dark circles under her eyes and a slightly messy bun, rushed to work on time.

The director's expression instantly shifted from sunny to cloudy, his brows furrowing into a deep frown: "Shinomiya! What kind of behavior is this?!"

Rin Shinomiya was startled by the reprimand and instinctively stood at attention. She lowered her head and stammered softly, "Chief...Chief..."

"You still know I'm the director?"

The director slammed his thermos on Yuan Zhensheng's desk, hands on his hips, and launched into a tirade: "Two days in a row! Absent without leave! Not even a single note! We couldn't reach you by phone! What's wrong with you? Do you think this is a place you can come and go as you please?!"

Yuan Zhensheng kept his eyes down, pretending to organize documents.

"I...I..."

Rin Shinomiya opened her mouth, unsure of what to say.

How did she answer? She said she went undercover in a construction group in the mountains but got caught, then experienced a highway shootout, severed ties with her father, and barely escaped with her life to return to work?

Hmm, it doesn't seem like a bad idea.

Shinomiya Rin immediately perked up and began to vividly recount her glorious deeds:

After a thorough investigation, she discovered a major criminal lead. In order to obtain evidence—not to be arrested—she resolutely decided to infiltrate the Shanjian Group office alone to conduct an undercover investigation.

Inside the agency, she used her extraordinary courage and wisdom to outmaneuver the gangsters and gather crucial intelligence.

"At the time, more than a dozen team members were chasing me, unaware that I was hiding in the ventilation shaft, like a secret agent lurking in the shadows, observing their every move through the exhaust vent..."

"I almost got the evidence, but unfortunately, someone messed things up and set fire to the office, ruining my plans."

"The fire was huge, there was smoke everywhere, the wind was howling, and there were constant explosions. I grabbed my innocent kitten, jumped out of the window, stole a car, and tried to break through the fire—"

"Just then! Kenkichi Kuwata appeared!"

"He and his team chased me, more than a dozen cars speeding down the highway, and they shot and shattered my rearview mirror!"

"I was driving and firing my rifle at them, bang bang bang, three shots killed four gunmen, one of which killed two of them because they were sitting in the front and back rows..."

Rin Shinomiya got more and more carried away as she talked, puffing out her chest and gesturing with her hands, sometimes pretending to drive and sometimes pretending to shoot, speaking with great detail and completely immersed in her own art.

Yuan Zhensheng looked serious, thinking that it was time to train his patience. As a professional assassin, the most important thing was to keep up the details of his disguise in life. No matter how funny it was, he absolutely could not laugh.

This is a matter of life and death.

Even letting your teeth cool down doesn't work.

The police chief, holding a thermos, wore an expression reminiscent of a Tibetan fox. He remained motionless, quietly waiting for Shinomiya Rin to finish speaking. He took a final sip of tea and asked, "Did the police station take your statement?"

"Uh, no." Shinomiya Rin scratched her thigh.

Her father suppressed everything related to her; there was absolutely no record of her in the case file of the assassination of Kuwata Kenkichi.

"Sigh, it's one thing to fool me, but don't fool yourself too," the director said. "Go write a 1,000-word self-criticism."

Shinomiya Rin was furious. She sullenly said "Oh" and went back to her workstation to write a self-criticism. Hara Masaki took the opportunity to kick him while he was down and submitted his own self-criticism to the director.

"Look, this is what a proper work attitude looks like."

The director patiently advised Shinomiya Rin to learn from Hara Masaki; after Shinomiya Rin bowed her head and admitted her mistake, he returned to his office with a gratified look, feeling that he had helped Congressman Shinomiya raise her daughter well.

Shinomiya Rin gritted her teeth as she wrote her self-criticism, secretly resenting the manipulation by the financial world and feeling that the higher-ups were suppressing her. She believed that her father was afraid of her promotion, which was why he had concealed her glorious feat of bravely storming the firm...

hateful!

Sooner or later, she will prove her abilities!