Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

While Shinomiya Rin was writing her self-criticism, Hara Masaki pretended to be curious and asked her how she knew that Kuwata Kenkichi was the assassination target.

Of course, Shinomiya Rin couldn't admit that she had eavesdropped outside her father's study; instead, she mysteriously claimed that she had special channels:

"Do you know what an information broker is? How can we investigate special cases without special channels? Those truly well-informed people aren't the kind you can just run into on the street."

Yuan Zhensheng expressed doubt: "You know information brokers?"

Shinomiya Rin nodded proudly: "Of course."

Yuan Zhensheng then asked, "Could you introduce me to him?"

Telephone clubs are no longer safe, and besides, he can't rely on a single source of customers, or he'll starve sooner or later.

Shinomiya Rin flatly refused, as she couldn't introduce a non-existent person to Hara Masaki; Hara Masaki had only asked casually, and since Shinomiya Rin wouldn't agree, he would find a way himself.

"I'm going on patrol."

Yuan Zhensheng greeted everyone, put on his fluorescent vest, picked up his baton and walkie-talkie, and went to patrol his jurisdiction as usual.

The streets of the port area present a completely different scene during the day than at night. Housewives hurry by carrying shopping bags, convenience store clerks organize the shelves at the entrance, and the sounds of children playing can be heard from a kindergarten in the distance.

The patrol route is fixed, and Yuan Zhensheng walks it several times a day. He knows what he will see at the next intersection even with his eyes closed.

As he passed a convenience store, the store manager called out to him, "Patrolman, you're here! Could you please help me?"

"What is it?" Yuan Zhensheng stopped in his tracks.

"It seems like a naughty child stuffed something into the vending machine, it's stuck, and inserting coins isn't working," the store manager said, pointing to the vending machine next to the store entrance. "I've been trying to fix it myself for ages, but I can't. I'm afraid to use too much force, in case I break it..."

Yuan Zhensheng went over to take a look. It was an old-fashioned beverage vending machine, and the dispenser below the coin slot was blocked by an empty soda can.

He crouched down and poked the stuck can a few times with his baton, finally managing to dislodge it.

"Okay." Yuan Zhensheng threw the can into the trash can next to him.

"Thank you so much!" The store manager bowed repeatedly. "I always have to trouble you..."

"It's my duty," Yuan Zhensheng said politely, and continued walking forward.

They hadn't gone far when an elderly woman, carrying heavy shopping bags, tried to cross the street, her steps unsteady. Yuan Zhensheng quickly walked over and took the bags from her hands: "Let me help you with these."

"Ah, thank you, thank you..." The old lady was a little hard of hearing and spoke loudly, "I'm old, I'm no longer useful..."

Yuan Zhensheng helped her slowly cross the pedestrian crossing.

The old lady chattered on about the trivial matters of her family—her grandson had been admitted to university, her daughter had been busy with work lately, and she felt a bit lonely living alone… Yuan Zhensheng nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t really listening.

He escorted the elderly woman to her apartment building and returned the shopping bags to her.

"The former patrolman was such a good man!" The old lady waved from the stairwell.

Yuan Zhensheng smiled and returned the greeting; his daily work consisted of these trivial matters.

As a professional assassin, one must not only maintain good relationships with the surrounding residents, but also subtly integrate into their lives, cultivating a kind and gentle persona.

Those reclusive killers in TV dramas who never speak to their neighbors are fictional. In reality, if a murder occurs nearby, a detective's casual questioning of neighbors will likely elicit comments like, "That family's behavior is suspicious," or "I've never seen him leave the house."

Yuan Zhensheng continued his patrol and turned into a commercial street.

The streets were lined with election placards and colorful flags, one of which featured a portrait of Masakazu Shinomiya with a prominent slogan: "Listen to your voice, fulfill my promises."

The back also has a few lines of smaller print, indicating that Masakazu Shinomiya will be giving a speech at 11:00 AM in Roppongi, Minato Ward, and attendees can receive a free gift.

Yuan Zhensheng rested his chin on his hand, looking him up and down, thinking that this guy looked a bit like Shinomiya Rin... Could it be that Shinomiya Rin's actual age was older than she looked, and that she already had a child in her forties or fifties?

Since I'm just killing time anyway, I might as well go take a look.

Hara Masaki walked along the street to Roppongi and saw a modified white campaign vehicle parked in front of a makeshift small stage. The vehicle was covered with a huge poster of Shinomiya Masakazu and campaign slogans.

About thirty or forty citizens had gathered around, mostly elderly people or housewives carrying shopping bags; several uniformed campaign workers distributed fans and tissue packs with Shinomiya Masakazu's image on them on the periphery of the crowd, chanting, "Please support Representative Shinomiya Masakazu!"

Accompanied by two attendants, Masakazu Shinomiya took to the stage and began his speech into the microphone, his voice amplified through a loudspeaker on the roof of the car:

"Japan is losing its spirit and strength! Where has our once-proud discipline, unity, and loyalty to the nation gone?"

"Look at our young people, look at the state of our community! What we need is to rediscover tradition, restore order, and put this land back in the hands of true citizens who respect the law and love their country!"

……

Hara Masaki stood in the crowd with his arms crossed, listening attentively; when Shinomiya Masakazu got to the exciting parts of his speech, he would clap along with the crowd.

This guy is clearly a right-winger; some of the things he said during his speech probably wouldn't pass censorship in later generations... However, in terms of presentation, it was a remarkably excellent speech.

Forty minutes later, the speech ended, and Shinomiya Masakazu stepped down from the stage to shake hands with the voters. Hara Masao suspected that those people were actors who had been arranged in advance. He had been a patrolman in this area for so long, and he had never seen those people before.

The onlookers who were truly drawn in were actively collecting the free small gifts.

Yuan Zhensheng also received one; it was a bag of daifuku sweets.

After the event, residents greeted Yuan Zhensheng, and several elderly people who had listened to his speech gathered around him.

"Inspector Yuan! You're here for a lecture too?"

"Are you on patrol? You must be tired..."

As everyone chatted, the conversation naturally turned to Representative Shinomiya.

The middle-aged woman carrying a shopping basket said that Representative Shinomiya was not a good person. She had previously worked as a cleaner in the sect, and the leader distributed brochures to the followers with Representative Shinomiya's face printed on them, asking the followers to vote for the designated representative.

Yuan Zhensheng didn't care about this, maintaining only superficial politeness and occasionally flattering his neighbors.

……

At the same time, Shinomiya Masakazu returned to his car and, through the window, his gaze fell on the patrol officers who were chatting familiarly with several old neighbors not far away.

"Go and find out which unit that patrolman belongs to."

"Yes," the secretary replied immediately, noting down Yuan Zhensheng's patrol number and general appearance, then asked, "What specific aspects need attention?"

"In old communities like the port area, neighbors know each other well. In the end, the election still relies on these grassroots patrol officers to win over people's hearts and minds by going door to door."

Shinomiya Masakazu took off his glasses, wiped them, and continued:

"We'll contact the local traffic police stations again and tell them that for the sake of community harmony and stability during the election period, we hope they can assist with some necessary voter communication work... The necessary assistance fees and gifts will not be lacking."

The secretary nodded: "Okay, I've noted it down in the worksheet."

Shinomiya Masakazu pulled down the sunshade on the car window and was about to recline for a short rest when he suddenly remembered something and looked up to ask, "By the way, has what I asked you to do last night been arranged?"

"It's all arranged. Night Owl is lying in wait at the phone club. As soon as the gunshot rings out, Sumiyoshi will send a scapegoat, and the Metropolitan Police Department won't pursue the matter."

"Remember to let me know when you're done."

"Yes."