What happened during the short amount of time he took his eyes off Ranpo? It didn’t matter that the kid was a quick-thinking genius. Even if he had already found out who was behind this and was trying to lure them out, he wouldn’t stand a chance if they attacked him. He was still just a boy, and the darkness of this lawless city was rampant with violence. Some wouldn’t even hesitate to kill a child like Ranpo.
“I’ll go look for them.” Fukuzawa quickly retired from the conference room.
Something had to have happened to Ranpo while he was heading to the station. Fukuzawa racked his brain, briskly walking forward. Did Ranpo have a plan? But he had no idea how corrupt this city was. Ranpo thought he knew everything, but he wasn’t a skill user. There was no way for him to know something unless he saw it with his own eyes.
And the one who made Ranpo believe he was a skill user was none other than Fukuzawa himself. He strode through the lobby until he reached the front entrance. Most of the patrons had left, and the area was now quiet. The moment he walked outside, he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye where Ranpo had gotten into the police car. When he strained his eyes, he saw something white by the building’s wall and decided to check it out. It was a white business card. A rock was lying on top, perhaps to keep it from being blown away by the wind. When Fukuzawa got close enough, he immediately recognized that it was his business card.
It can’t be—
He picked it up, and sure enough, it did have his name and contact information on it. He couldn’t discern who he originally gave it to, though. Fukuzawa flipped the card over. Messily written on the back in pencil was:
Mitamura is the real culprit. Search for the cane.
“No way. Come on.” Mitamura shook his head while smiling as he drove. “I can’t believe such an extraordinary skill user slipped under our radar.”
Ranpo didn’t respond. He simply stared at Mitamura through the rearview mirror with his young, piercing gaze behind the glasses.
“I guess it would be impolite to make excuses or deny it in the face of such a master detective. Now that you’ve found me out, I should probably do the right thing and tell you the truth and my motives,” Mitamura continued with a smile. “Just wait a little bit longer, please. There’s a more fitting place up ahead for me to welcome you, Master Detective.”
“All right, but make it quick,” Ranpo demanded with indifference. “It’s already late, so I’m getting tired.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The police car drove through the city night until it reached a seemingly empty commercial district. Driving down a road with no streetlights, they soon reach a brand-new four-story building and park.
“We’re here. Officially, this building’s an office for a ‘shipbuilding company’ if you know what I mean,” Mitamura joked while looking up at the building. “In reality, we own it. It’s what they call a shell company. Now, come. Please watch your step.”
Ranpo got out of the car as requested, and they walked through the empty building’s front door. At a glance, it looked just like any other building in the city. However, there were no lights on inside, nor were there any guards. As Mitamura and Ranpo continued to walk, all that illuminated the dusk was the greenish hue of the emergency lights.
“This way, please.”
Mitamura opened a glass door. The room was empty, but one of the walls was completely made from glass, giving a clear view of Yokohama’s skyline in the distance. Ranpo started entering the room as requested before speaking up.
“A gun?”
“Hmm?”
“That thing. The gun.”
Ranpo pointed at Mitamura’s waist. Hanging there was a city police–issued black revolver.
“I’ve never wanted to die before, but I don’t want it to hurt when I do. I’ve thought about it, though. The moment the bullet pierces your head probably hurts. But I’ve never talked to a dead guy before, so I can’t say for sure.”
“Ha-ha. I’m not going to shoot you with this.” Mitamura smiled while touching his gun. Then his eyes narrowed. “…As long as you do as I say.”
Fukuzawa quickly passed through the empty theater’s hallway to the auditorium. Everyone had already gone home, and only Fukuzawa’s footsteps eerily echoed. His expression was intense, but there was no hesitation in his gaze. There was only one thing that came to mind when he saw the word cane. He casually climbed up onto the stage, stepped over the faint stain of blood, and headed toward the back.
Fukuzawa immediately found the cane. Underneath the white fabric screen that Ranpo tore down was a T-shaped cane casually lying on the ground. It was somewhat old, but the grip had gold foil decorations embedded in it, suggesting high-end quality. The polished body seemed to be made from a camellia tree. It was the cane that the suited gentleman had been using.
Fukuzawa hadn’t heard where the owner of the cane was currently. Some said he was taken to the hospital, while others said he ran away to avoid any complicated matters that may have followed. If he ran away, then there would be no way of finding him now. The cane was what was important at the moment. Fukuzawa immediately noticed something was off when he held it: The center of gravity was somewhat high. Such a small oddity would be noticed only by someone who had held countless wooden swords and real swords, such as Fukuzawa. He carefully checked the handle and noticed a pronounced gap among the decorative gold. Something about as thick as a sheet of paper could be slid into the crack.
He first thought it was a sword cane, a typical weapon for an assassin. It was deadly, as well as something Fukuzawa used on rare occasions, so he was very familiar with them.
But this was different. There wasn’t enough space to hide a blade. Then what could it have been used for?
He held down the hidden notch while twisting the handle until the decorations indeed came off, revealing the inside.
“…?”