A fake case to solve—in other words, a ruse.
Someone would create a fake problem, and the rookie, who happened to be there, would be asked to solve this problem to test his capabilities. The mood in the room made it clear that was the only option; everyone was getting sick of thinking about it. However, there was one person brave enough to object.
“Wait.” Kunikida spoke up. “A ruse is all well and good, but there’s a fundamental problem with this idea: Dazai.”
He looked at Dazai, who cheerfully pointed at himself. “Me?”
“Yes, you. With this plan, we probably wouldn’t be bothering anyone outside the company. Someone could simply cause a commotion and create the problem. This part of the plan is fine. However…”
“‘However’…?”
“I want everyone to think back to what got us here in the first place.” Kunikida stood from his chair, put both hands on the desk, and leaned forward. “The person who got us into this mess and invited the newcomer to join our agency was none other than Dazai. Even though said newcomer was a designated threat, Dazai didn’t think to capture him or take him into custody. Rocks-for-Brains here only came up with the terrifying idea of letting him join the agency of all things because the idea just randomly popped into his head.”
“Oh, stop. You’re embarrassing me.” Dazai smiled and scratched his head.
“That’s not a compliment. At any rate, I am not advising anyone to reconsider. The president’s already given it the green light. However, I know Dazai’s nature more than I ever wanted to, and it is painfully obvious to me what he’s doing.”
Kunikida paused, then looked around the room before continuing.
“‘I’m determined to see this through, and I’ll push all the hard work onto someone else.’ Surely this is what you thought to yourself. Right, Dazai?”
Dazai gleefully smirked and nodded. “Looks like the cat’s out of the bag now. I’m impressed, Kunikida.”
“Your praise means nothing to me. In any event, I have been burned far too often because of how he does things. Forcing responsibility onto others, shifting it onto others, avoiding it—he flatters people just to kick the ladder out from under them. Whenever I vow to never be tricked by him again, I find myself somehow walking down the path he laid out for me. Thanks to that, I’ve been through so much over the past two years we’ve been partners: I’ve cleaned out drains in the freezing cold, fallen into the women’s fitting room at a department store, and even been forced to drink so much that I woke up in someone else’s bedroom without any memories of the night before.”
“You two have really done some interesting things together,” said Yosano in shock.
“You’re a strong person, Kunikida!” Kenji praised Kunikida, completely missing the point.
“Therefore, I’m convinced Dazai has come up with some sort of scheme so that he’s the only one who doesn’t have to do any of the hard work. He’s shrewd—I’ll give him that. What I’m trying to say is…Dazai, you’re planning on getting someone else to do the entrance exam while you’re doing nothing! Admit it!”
“Wow, Kunikida. You really like playing the victim, huh?”
“Whose fault do you think that is?!”
Dazai nodded a few times before responding. “But I understand why you’re worried. Over the years, I have been avoiding boring, tedious work whenever I could. But it would be difficult this time to force the responsibility onto someone else under these conditions. This is a meeting, after all. It would be quite surprising if everyone’s opinion somehow suited my needs.”
“Really? I think it’s quite the opposite,” Kunikida said while crossing his arms. “For example, the meeting has pretty much settled on creating a problem that doesn’t exist. In other words, we only need one unlucky individual to handle the ruse, and then you’re free. Also, you’re the one who chose the time and place for the meeting along with who would be coming, so I can’t help but wonder if you predicted we would end
up going with such a proposal. You waited until everyone decided on it because you calculated your scheme so that someone other than you would have to do all the work. Am I wrong?”
“You’re really buttering me up today, Kunikida.” Dazai audaciously smirked. “I see now. So you were on your guard this entire time, huh? All right, Kunikida, let’s hear your proposal, then.”
“I won’t force you to do all the work, but at the very least, I want this to be fair,” Kunikida stated. “I don’t want any dishonesty. Whether the roles are easy or difficult, they have to be fairly decided upon in a way that everyone will agree with.”
“Understood. That’s a very convincing argument,” Dazai said before looking at each and every person in the room. Then, out of nowhere, he added, “What do you think, Tanizaki?”
“Wh-what? Me? Um… I…”
Tanizaki panicked after suddenly being called on. He glanced at Kunikida, who stared back at him as if he wanted to say something. Tanizaki had been a timid person ever since the day he was born, and he tried to think through his confusion. There shouldn’t be a problem if he simply agreed.
“I… I think that’s a great idea.” Tanizaki managed to string some words together. “The entrance exam has always been difficult, so I think forcing roles on one another isn’t going to make anything better.”
“Then how about we do this?” Dazai clapped his hands together before continuing. “How about we let Tanizaki decide on how we’re going to allocate the roles? You could go with ghost legs, or cards, or— Well, just choose something that’s fair and square. That’s how we’ll determine who gets the grunt work. How’s that sound, Kunikida?”
Kunikida silently shot Tanizaki a look. Tanizaki started to quietly panic once again; everything was going a lot more smoothly than he had imagined.
“Okay…”