“I heard they use a few buildings to do business. You should probably start checking the ones closest first.”
Fukuzawa was at a loss for words until the boy looked up at him.
“This place gives me a bed, and it’s got air-conditioning, but the food’s awful,” said the boy. “I heard you had some influence over the higher-ups in the police force. Could you hook me up? That’s all I need.”
Fukuzawa slightly narrowed his eyes, then asked, “Any requests?”
The boy gave the faintest of smirks. He then replied:
“Curry.”
“Listen, Master Detective Ranpo. This is the best deal you are going to get. It’s either you take the deal, or they squeeze the information out of you. Which is it going to be? I don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate.”
Mitamura took a step forward. Sitting in a chair and swinging his legs about, Ranpo absentmindedly replied, “‘Negotiate’? I have no intention of negotiating, and when the conversation doesn’t interest me, it just goes in one ear and out the other. Just sounds like a cow mooing to me. Moooo.”
Mitamura’s eyebrow suddenly twitched. Still, he rubbed his forehead in an attempt to hold back his emotions.
“Listen, Ranpo. You’re extremely lucky that I’m the one here negotiating with you. The others probably would have sawed off your toes by now. But I saw your marvelous skill, which is why I’m being sincere when I—”
“Oh, hey. There it is again. Moooo.”
“…Rrgh!” Mitamura reflexively reached for the gun at his waist. His hand trembled in rage as he tried to control himself. As the tension in his muscles shook his arm, he said, “I am trying…to treat you like an adult. My job at the theater was to make sure the plan went smoothly and to deal with the aftermath. If you’re out of the picture, then nobody will ever know what really happened. And yet, here I am opening up to you, telling you the truth, and trying to negotiate with you like a grown man. I am doing all of this in good faith.”
“That would sound a lot more convincing without the vein bulging out of your forehead. What you’re saying is I better work for you or you’ll kill me. Where’s the good faith in that? Besides, people at the top like me do what they want.” Ranpo shrugged. “In any case, we’re talking about me, a genius detective and skill user. Did you really think I’d let you take me all the way outside of town to be threatened without a plan?”
“…!”
Mitamura reflexively pulled his gun on Ranpo, but Ranpo simply looked down the barrel. “…You’re lying,” said Mitamura. “I searched you. You didn’t have a transmitter.”
“That’s because I don’t need one.” Ranpo’s lips slightly curled, and the muscles around Mitamura’s jaw tensed.
“Fine. Then let me be honest with you. It pisses me off that a brat like you ruined our plan, and your arrogance gets on my nerves. So your skill lets you see the truth? So what? A pathetic skill like that wouldn’t even be able to stop a single bullet.”
He pulled back the hammer with his thumb. There was a click.
“But even then, I tried to be nice to you for the sake of our supreme purpose—to rid this country of the scum that plagues it—those who bring chaos—the parasites that eat away at the framework of the nation—in other words, the skill users.”
“I see. So ‘V’ is an organization of skill users that banded together to get rid of other skill users, huh?” Ranpo faintly smiled.
“We use anything we can for our purpose, whether it be a skill user or a man hiding behind the witness protection program. That’s our—”
/>
Mitamura’s hand holding the pistol trembled. His finger tightened around the trigger.
“Get on with it already. If you’re gonna shoot me, then do it,” taunted Ranpo as he gazed into the barrel. “Oh, but wait another five seconds first, okay? Because if my predictions are correct, then in three…two…”
A blinding flash of light flooded the room.
The glass windows shattered. A black shadow then leaped into the room and landed before spinning around.
“…?!”
Mitamura stood paralyzed. He couldn’t even hold his gun up anymore; the silhouette that had jumped in through the window was expelling enough bloodlust to kill a lion. Immediately, Mitamura was knocked into the corner of the room.
“Gwah…!”
After slamming him against the wall, the shadow grabbed Mitamura’s collar and swiftly threw him before he could even fall to the ground. The speed of the throw created the afterimage of an arc in the air. This throwing technique would usually be referred to as seoi nage—a shoulder throw—in jujutsu. However, a move where the opponent was launched into the ceiling before slamming into the ground with no loss of speed was beyond the scope of a shoulder throw. It was as if Mitamura had been hit by a train before losing consciousness.