Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

After completing his patrol, Yuan Zhensheng returned to the police station to process his report of surrender.

Generally, those who come to the police station to report crimes are either victims of theft or neighbors having disputes. Major cases like robbery and murder are usually reported to the police station and are not handled by the police station staff.

He and Shinomiya Rin worked together to calm down a quarreling couple—the wife had been having an affair for a long time, and the husband gambled outside. Neither of them were good people, so their arguments were particularly intense, at one point even resulting in a physical altercation, which eventually escalated to the point of sexual intercourse.

Shinomiya Rin felt that dealing with this matter was pointless and was simply wasting her limited lifespan; listening for even a second longer would be a waste of her lifespan.

With the director watching from the side, she could only force a smile and try to persuade the couple to calm down in a low voice, feeling like a waitress in a restaurant.

Yuan Zhensheng was also offering the same advice, repeating the same old platitudes: "Harmony in the family brings prosperity in all things, so try to be understanding of each other, and talk things out at home," and "I suggest you register your home address and phone number so we can visit you regularly"...

After finally persuading the couple to leave, it was just time for them to get off work.

Hara Masaki clocks out on time, while Shinomiya Rin has to work overtime to write a self-criticism, just like a primary school student being kept after school.

Before it got dark, he went to the market to buy ingredients and went home to cook.

Dinner was his own recipe: simply put chicken breast, broccoli, carrots, tomatoes, and avocado into a juicer, and it was ready to serve with just one touch – convenient, quick, healthy, and nutritious.

After having a good drink, Yuan Zhensheng did some bodyweight exercises in his bedroom. He didn't work out too hard; he just warmed up and maintained his physical condition because he had important things to do that night.

"Hopefully, the payment will be received smoothly..."

Yuan Zhensheng opened the stall under the sink, took out 200,000 yen, changed into a tracksuit, and hurriedly left with his head down.

He first went to an izakaya and booked a private room, instructing the waiter not to come in, pretending to be drinking alone in the room; when no one was paying attention, he changed his face to Suzuki Shinya's and left discreetly from the front.

As night falls, neon lights illuminate Tokyo, a city that never sleeps.

Instead of rushing to the telephone club, Yuan Zhensheng found a roadside phone booth downstairs in a specific apartment building and dialed the residential number of the couple who had argued during the day.

"...Is it the Sato family?" He deliberately made his voice sound hoarse and fierce.

The call connected, and it was the wife of the man who owed gambling debts during the day who answered: "Oh yes, who is this?"

"I work for a loan shark company... Your husband borrowed five million yen from us, including principal and interest, and was supposed to pay it back today. Why haven't we heard anything about it yet?"

Yuan Zhensheng spoke quickly, her tone laced with impatient threat, "If you don't return it, we'll come knocking on your door. Your husband said he's mortgaged you to us, you know what that means, right?"

The woman on the other end of the phone panicked instantly: "That bastard! It has nothing to do with me!"

"He also said the money was at home and told us to come and collect it." Yuan Zhensheng guessed that her husband was not at home.

"I have no idea what money is! He's lying! I didn't..."

"I don't care which of you two is lying," Yuan Zhensheng interrupted her, his tone cold and hard. "He said the money and the collateral are at home, and our people are almost on your street... Are you asking us to pay them a visit, or are you just being sensible?"

"No, please! I beg you! I really don't know! I don't have a single penny on me..." The woman's voice began to tremble, choked with sobs.

Hara Masaki snorted coldly and continued to play the role of debt collector, threatening him in every way from his social circle to his personal safety, and pointing out that the other party's name was Sato Kanon.

Soon, only the woman's suppressed sobs and pleas remained on the other end of the phone:

"No, don't come any closer... Please... I'll do anything... just don't come looking for me..."

Sure enough, lonely married women are easy to fool.

"Don't cry, I'm a soft-hearted person and can't stand hearing a woman cry." Yuan Zhensheng said with feigned sympathy, then revealed his true intentions: "How about this, if you do me a small favor, I can forgive your debt."

"W-What busy?" Sato Kanon seemed to have expected this, her voice pitiful.

"It's very simple. Go to Adachi Ward and find a phone club called 'Momo Love Dating Communication Project.' When you enter, go directly to the front desk, give them the last four digits of the number 4123, and pick up a package."

Yuan Zhensheng paused for a moment to make sure the other person was listening.

"Then, take it to the trash can at the west entrance of Ueno Park and throw it in. Once you've done that, you and our company are even, and no one will bother you again... Understand?"

"That's...that's it?" Sato Kanon asked, still somewhat doubtful.

"Yes, that's it. Remember, don't tell anyone, especially your husband. If word gets out, or if you fail to do it..." Yuan Zhensheng's voice turned cold again, "You know the consequences."

Without waiting for the other party to ask any further questions, he simply hung up the phone.

A dozen minutes later, the motion-sensor lights in the apartment building's hallway turned on, and Sato Kanon, carrying a bag and looking flustered, hurried towards the tram stop.

Yuan Zhensheng sat by the roadside, confirmed that she had already set off, hailed a taxi, and took a taxi to the telephone club, arriving at the telephone club entrance before her.

Now all we need to do is wait patiently.

As a professional assassin, he needs to be more vigilant than usual when collecting payment after a mission. In his previous life, most of his colleagues died due to disputes over the division of spoils or conflicts with clients.

In Yuan Zhensheng's view, withdrawing money is also a skill.

……

Sato Kanon found the signboard of the "Moe Moe Dating Communication Project" telephone club.

She hesitated at the door for a few seconds, her heart pounding like a drum, before finally gritting her teeth and pushing the door open.

The front desk was dimly lit, and the air was thick with the mingled scents of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. A middle-aged man wearing glasses looked up from behind a magazine and asked expressionlessly, "Is there something you need?"

"I...I'm here to pick up something. The last four digits of my ID number are...4123." Sato Kanon's voice trembled slightly.

The receptionist glanced at her, put down the magazine, and gestured for Sato Kanon to follow.

Sato Kanon grew increasingly uneasy. The package the yakuza were trying to transport was definitely contraband, but she clung to a sliver of hope: as long as she knew nothing about it, it wouldn't count as drug trafficking or transporting guns...

She followed the receptionist through a narrow corridor, who pushed open a heavy, soundproof door. Inside was a small, windowless room of only a few square meters, containing only a table and a chair, with a dim light bulb hanging overhead.

"Wait here for a moment," the receptionist said, then left and closed the door.

Sato Kanon sat down uneasily, waiting for a moment, when a deep voice suddenly came from behind her asking:

"You're the Swamp Man?"

She was startled and turned around to find a man hiding in the shadows in the corner of the room.

He was about forty years old, of medium build, wearing an ordinary dark short-sleeved shirt, and had an unremarkable appearance, the kind of person you would easily lose in a crowd; his face was expressionless, but his eyes held a kind of indifference as if he were assessing the value of an item.

"No... I'm not..."

Sato Kanon's voice trembled, every cell in her body sending out danger signals. She immediately explained, "I... I was just helping someone pick something up... My husband is in debt, I... I..."

"It doesn't matter."

The middle-aged man bent down, picked up a bento box, and said, "I'm hungry. Could you please stand up? I'd like to have sashimi of leg meat today."