Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

Ten minutes later, Yamamoto Koji pushed open the iron gate of the detention center and gestured with his chin toward the corner: "Yoshioka, give him the record board."

Akio Yoshio handed the notebook and pen to Masaki Hara, lowering his voice to remind him, "Don't interrupt later. The boss hates it when people interrupt during interrogations."

"Please rest assured, Section Chief Yamamoto, I am purely learning," Hara Masaki said respectfully.

His gaze swept across the one-way glass—behind which stood Hideaki Shiraishi, head bowed and huddled, his wrists marked with deep purple bruises from the handcuffs, the interrogation light casting his hunched shadow onto the mottled wall.

With an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, Yamamoto Koji mumbled, "That old man Nishio always praises you for being clever... Alright, I'll make an exception for today."

He kicked open the iron gate and gestured for Yuan Zhensheng to go in. "Keep an eye on the kid. Interrogation is a skill."

The rusted door hinges groaned shrilly, and the door slammed heavily against the wall before bouncing back slightly.

Yamamoto Koji didn't sit down immediately. He walked to the table and looked down at Shiraishi Hideaki.

Akio Yoshioka had already skillfully walked around to the other side of the table and pulled out the recorder's chair.

Hara Masaki stood quietly a step behind Yamamoto Koji, within sight of Shiraishi Hideaki.

"Raise your head." Yamamoto Koji's voice wasn't loud, and it didn't even sound angry, but it carried an undeniable sense of command. "Has the lawyer been here?"

Hideaki Shiraishi's shoulders twitched again, and he made an unintelligible gurgling sound in his throat before raising his head with great difficulty.

His gaze was initially unfocused, but then it inevitably drifted past Yamamoto Koji's shoulder and landed on the person standing behind him.

Original true life.

Hideaki Shiraishi could see that face clearly under the pinkish-purple light of the brothel.

It's a swamp man!

At that moment, he stood there in his patrolman uniform, expressionless, like a lifeless sculpture, only his eyes, unfathomable, calmly watching him.

A chilling sensation instantly shot from Shiraishi Hideaki's tailbone to the top of his head.

He saw the meaning in Yuan Zhensheng's eyes—not a threat, not a warning, but a pure, cold indifference towards inanimate objects.

It was as if the other party was saying: If you speak out, it will be your death, and you will die in vain.

"I'm asking you a question!" Akio Yoshioka impatiently tapped his pen on the whiteboard, making a loud tapping sound. "Are you mute? What did the lawyer tell you?"

Hideaki Shiraishi shuddered, his gaze snapping away from Hara Masaki's face as if burned, and refocusing on Yamamoto Koji.

"The lawyer... he said... he said he would help me... help me apply for bail... saying the evidence... the evidence is insufficient..."

"Insufficient evidence?"

Yamamoto Koji chuckled, pulled over a chair from the interrogation table, and sat down with an air of authority, leaning slightly forward.

"Do you think I'm new to this line of work? Do you think a lawyer would talk nonsense like this? Did he ask you anything? Did he ask you what the case was all about? Did he ask you what else you knew?"

He didn't care whether Hideaki Shiraishi was the real culprit or not; the case report had already been written, and he was just making empty threats.

"No...no! He didn't ask anything else!"

Hideaki Shiraishi vehemently denied it, his voice shrill and distorted as he shook his head frantically, sweat streaming down his temples. "He...he said he would help me...really...I'm telling the truth! I don't know anything...I'm innocent..."

His plea was choked with sobs, but his eyes kept glancing at the shadows behind Yamamoto Koji.

Yamamoto Koji's insight was incredibly shrewd.

Following Hideaki Shiraishi's almost imperceptible gaze, he subtly glanced behind him out of the corner of his eye.

Only Yuan Zhen lives.

The young patrolman named Yuan Zhensheng remained standing there quietly, his head slightly bowed, seemingly focused on the bulletin board in his hand, his posture respectful and obedient, with no unusual expression on his face.

Why are you looking at him?

Is Yuan Jun really that scary-looking?

A hint of doubt flashed through Yamamoto Koji's mind, but he didn't dwell on it. Perhaps Shiraishi Hideaki was just glancing randomly.

"Innocent? You were at the scene, your fingerprints were on the murder weapon, you admitted it yourself, and now you're crying innocence? Isn't it a bit too late?"

He paused deliberately, his gaze sharp as a knife. "Did the lawyer ask you about the swamp man?"

Hideaki Shiraishi was terrified and frantically shook his head in denial, fearing that uttering a single word would bring about his death.

This time, his gaze lingered for a slightly longer moment, filled with desperate pleading.

Yuan Zhensheng remained expressionless.

He didn't even look up to meet Hideaki Shiraishi's gaze.

"I...I don't know...what swamp man...I don't know him..."

Hideaki Shiraishi broke down in tears, clutching his head and curling into a ball. "Don't ask me anymore... please... kill me... kill me..."

He was incoherent, and his mental state was clearly on the verge of collapse.

He dared not look at Yamamoto Koji, much less at Hara Masaki.

On one side is the police's interrogation and the impending imprisonment or even death penalty; on the other side is the silent but even more terrifying death threat from the Swamp Man.

No matter what he says, it seems there's only one way out: death.

"Alright, enough with the wailing and howling." Yamamoto Koji waved his hand impatiently. "Think about how to get leniency in court. If you keep spouting this useless nonsense, no one can save you."

After saying that, he turned around and gestured for Hara Masaki and Yoshioka Akio to leave.

Hara Masaki followed behind Yamamoto Koji, and just as they were about to step out of the iron gate, he seemed to turn back unintentionally.

His gaze fell on the interrogation room one last time.

Hideaki Shiraishi seemed to sense something, raising his tear-streaked eyes and mouthing, "Save me!"

Yuan Zhensheng ignored him and followed Yamamoto Koji out of the interrogation room without stopping.

The iron gate slammed shut behind him, shutting out Hideaki Shiraishi's desperate sobs.

The corridor lights were blindingly white. Yamamoto Koji took a deep drag of his cigarette and said, "See that?"

He nudged Yuan Zhensheng with his elbow and gestured with his chin toward the interrogation room. "That's what you call skill. A few words, a glance, and you can scare him out of his wits."

Akio Yoshioka immediately stepped forward, his eyes shining: "Boss! That was amazing! Your aura just now was like that of a kendo master! You didn't even need to lift a finger; just your presence alone could make the enemy kneel and beg for mercy!"

Yamamoto Koji was pleased and smugly dusted off the front of his suit jacket.

"Learn from this, kids."

He pointed at Hara Masaki and Yoshioka Akio, saying, "The essence of interrogation isn't how loudly you shout or how hard you swing the stick. It's about control!" He held up two fingers, making a pinching gesture.

After speaking, he glanced at the silent Hara Masaki beside him, and recalling Director Nishio's praise, casually asked, "So, Hara-kun? Did you understand the trick?"

Hara Masaki bowed slightly: "Yes, Section Chief Yamamoto, I have benefited greatly. Your grasp of the suspect's psychology is truly admirable."

"Hmm, this child is teachable!"

Yamamoto Koji nodded in satisfaction, stubbed out his cigarette on the trash can in the corridor, and said, "Alright, that's a wrap! Staying in this kind of unlucky place for too long will affect your luck. Akio, report back to you for your hard work. Write it as usual: 'The suspect is emotionally agitated and talking nonsense. His statements about the swamp man are unsubstantiated and are not accepted.'... Hara-kun, you should go back and rest early too."

Although nothing was found out, at least they managed to get it, and that's enough.

Anyway, he's not here to work.