Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

Yuan Zhensheng had anticipated this.

He didn't intend to lose his temper or threaten the other party; there was no point in doing such a thing. This was their job, and the fact that they even informed him was already a sign of good professionalism.

Furthermore, the other party also gave him 250 million!

That favor alone is enough for him to say thank you.

He hung up the phone, walked out of the phone booth, and still had that slightly tired expression on his face.

Next to the vending machine on the street corner, Chief Nishio was still sipping his beer.

"It's over, Chief," Hara Masaki said to Nishio Yusuke. "Inspector Yoshioka has confirmed everything; there's nothing new."

"Okay, sure." Yusuke Nishio nodded, tossing away his empty beer can. "It's about time. Let's go set up a checkpoint at the intersection to the east. I don't know how long we'll be busy today."

The two returned to the patrol car and continued their large-scale search operation. Yuan Zhensheng performed the same duties as the other patrol officers, diligently carrying out instructions such as setting up checkpoints, conducting door-to-door checks, registering visitors, and maintaining perimeter security.

But he kept thinking about how to deal with that money.

Everyone else is working overtime. If he leaves work alone, he might at least be criticized or reprimanded, or at worst, he might arouse suspicion and be investigated.

Going directly to retrieve it would be too risky; he needed a natural reason to leave.

Yuan Zhensheng thought long and hard, devising many ingenious plans, but always felt they were prone to errors. In the end, he decided to use the oldest, simplest, and most effective way to escape.

"Chief," he said, clutching his stomach, looking weak, "I think... something's not right."

Yusuke Nishio was inspecting the trunk of a car when he heard this and turned around: "What's wrong? Uh, you look terrible."

"It's probably because of that cold beer, plus I haven't eaten much," Yuan Zhensheng gasped, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. "My stomach is cramping, and I feel... nauseous."

He acted very convincingly, his body slightly hunched over and his breathing deliberately rapid.

Yusuke Nishio said helplessly, "You... why didn't you say so earlier! Now, at this crucial moment..."

He glanced at his watch, then at the long line of cars waiting for inspection, and at his equally exhausted colleagues around him. After a moment's hesitation, he asked, "Can we hold on?"

At this moment, the two of them were standing on the side of the road checking each passing vehicle. They were short-handed and couldn't afford to lose even one person.

"I...I'll try my best..."

Yuan Zhen gathered his energy in his dantian, preparing to continue the performance.

"Why don't you go to the bathroom first? I'll hold out for about ten minutes, and you can come back as soon as possible." Yusuke Nishio's tone softened.

Making a subordinate who is clearly unwell push himself to the limit could lead to even more trouble if he makes a mistake while on duty.

"No, Chief, if I get diarrhea, I'll be in bed for at least an hour or two..."

Yuan Zhensheng immediately let out a thunderous fart, intimidating everyone around him. His face ashen, he said, "It's alright, I... I can still hold on."

For 250 million, a little reputation is nothing.

"Stop holding it in!" Yusuke Nishio exclaimed in alarm, fearing he might have soiled his pants. He quickly waved his hand, his tone urging and concerned, "Hurry up! Go to the public restroom over there! Quickly! Don't...make a scene here!"

Hara Masaki immediately clutched his stomach and bowed slightly to Nishio Yusuke: "I'm so sorry, Director! I'll be back soon... as soon as possible!"

His voice was weak, but his movements were swift. He staggered away from the checkpoint and headed toward the public restroom that Yusuke Nishio had pointed out.

Yusuke Nishio watched his retreating figure, shook his head helplessly, then took a deep breath and shouted to the convoy, "Next! Roll down your windows!"

……

As soon as he was out of Yusuke Nishio's sight, Hara Masaki straightened his back, the pained expression on his face disappeared, and his steps became steady and quick.

He actually went into the toilet and took a dump. Then he put on the "face of a fickle person," changed his face, took off his police uniform, left the toilet with his head down, and took a taxi to Adachi Ward.

……

Meanwhile, outside the Sumiyoshi apartment building in Adachi Ward.

Koji Aiba was sitting in the driver's seat of a slightly worn Toyota Crown sedan, parked on the edge of a free parking lot about fifty meters diagonally opposite the Sumiyoshi apartment building.

He looked to be in his early forties, with a well-proportioned figure and an ordinary, almost indistinct face—the kind of face that you could look at ten times in a crowd and still not remember.

That's right, he's also an industry killer, codenamed "Yaksha".

His name ranks fourth on a widely circulated list within the industry.

This ranking is not based on how many people he has killed. The top-ranked killers often have similar numbers of lives on their hands. Instead, it is based on the quality of his missions, his perfect record of never missing a shot, and the difficulty of the targets he takes on.

Politicians' bodyguards, reclusive tycoon advisors, veteran gang leaders who survived the civil war in the underworld... these targets died swiftly and decisively, all killed with a single shot.

Koji Aiba is skilled in close combat and gun handling. He used to work as a mercenary abroad, but after returning to Japan, he couldn't find a suitable job and had to return to his old profession of killing.

He carefully chose his parking spot: it offers a clear view of the apartment's main entrance, the side fire lane, and the ramp leading to the underground storage, while also being on the edge of the streetlights' illumination range, making the interior dimly lit and difficult to see from the outside.

On the passenger seat was an ordinary briefcase. Inside, there were no documents, only a neatly folded dark blue work uniform, a hat with the logo of a water and electricity company, a few commonly used electrician tools, and a pistol case containing a silencer.

On the back seat was a rectangular instrument case containing a disassembled high-precision sniper rifle, but he didn't plan to use it tonight.

In the context of low-rise and mid-rise buildings in urban residential areas, especially where targets are likely to enter enclosed underground spaces, close-quarters combat is more probable, making sniper rifles a hindrance.

He has been here for more than six hours.

Waiting itself is part of the hunt, and perhaps the most challenging part.

Koji Aiba's breathing was long and steady, his heart rate was strictly controlled to below sixty beats per minute, and his body muscles were in a relaxed but ready-to-explode state.

He was stationed here because his ear bag had provided intelligence.

The information broker offered an astonishingly high price, but Koji Aiba paid it readily.

He was determined to get the billion-dollar bounty.

The information provided by the ear bag is concise: "Numa will soon personally or send someone to the A8 warehouse on the second basement floor of the Sumiyoshi apartment building in Adachi Ward to retrieve a sum of money. The key is under the floor mat."

There was no specific time, nor any description of the swamp man's appearance, but that was enough.

Koji Aiba didn't need to know what the swamp man looked like; all he needed to know was that the person who would touch the lock on the A8 warehouse door was his target.

As for whether "soon" means tonight, tomorrow night, or three days from now, it doesn't matter.

He has enough patience and supplies to stay here in shifts for several days.

A sum of money that could tempt a swamp man wouldn't stay in the warehouse for long, especially now that the National Essence Society has offered a 1 billion reward and the whole city is on edge.

Time passed second by second.

The rumble of a tram could be heard in the distance, then it gradually faded away, its headlights illuminating a figure.

Koji Aiba sat up straight, squinted to observe, and reached his right hand into his waistband to grip the gun handle.

"Finally here..."