"The real culprit not only murdered and dismbered the victim," Xiu Xin said, "but also used the severed head to create panic, manipulate workers into suicide, and indirectly caused the deaths of dozens of people. Then, after the fact, a worker was made to take the fall for him, while he continued to roam free, waiting for things to calm down before committing his next cri."
"That sounds like a terrifying individual," Nakamura Shinichi gasped, then asked, "But how does he manipulate workers into committing such cris, even to the point of taking their own lives?"
"That’s what we need to investigate," Aoyama Xiu Xin replied, with his rich experience shining through. "To control soone is either to brainwash them or to threaten them with leverage over soone they care about. Now let’s conduct a thorough investigation on that worker and his family."
"Roger!" Nakamura Shinichi said, then carefully reminded him, "Senior Police Director, actually, we already have sufficient evidence, and we could close the case."
We could just pin the cri on that worker.
"Keep that as a backup plan," Aoyama Xiu Xin said with narrowed eyes and a cold tone. "I can deal with not catching soone and having to find a scapegoat, but I can’t accept being led around by the nose by the murderer. If he thinks he can play the police, then I must drag him out! I find these individuals who think they’re the smartest in the world and everyone else is a fool particularly repugnant."
"Roger!" Nakamura Shinichi said no more.
"There’s another matter. That journalist nad Hashimoto Chiyoko—I want all her information before the end of work today," Aoyama Xiu Xin instructed indifferently.
Fully aware of his old boss’s tendency for such requests, Nakamura Shinichi smiled and bowed, "Roger!"
...
After work that evening, Aoyama Xiu Xin lied to his sister-in-law about working overti and not coming ho for dinner, but in reality, he brought a bottle of expensive red wine to Hashimoto Chiyoko’s ho.
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"
He pressed the doorbell.
"Who is it?" Once bitten by a snake, one fears a well rope for ten years.
Hashimoto Chiyoko inside asked with great caution.
"Journalist Hashimoto, it’s , Aoyama Xiu Xin."
Aoyama Xiu Xin replied in a gentle tone.
Only then did Hashimoto Chiyoko put aside the baseball bat in her hand and opened the door, bowing to Aoyama Xiu Xin, "Chief of Police Aoyama, what brings you here?"
She must have just co ho from work and had not yet had the chance to shower; she hadn’t even changed her clothes.
Her ear-length hair appeared slightly ssy, a white turtleneck sweater tightly enfolding her ample upper body, its round curves exuding a full sense of happiness.
She wore black wide-leg pants below, the fabric clinging tightly to her skin due to her perky and plump backside, her curves flowing beautifully—the house was pretty nice.
"I was very worried after last night’s events, but I was too busy with work today to co see you, so I ca straight here after work," Aoyama Xiu Xin said with a smile, raising the bottle of wine in his hand, "Won’t you invite in to sit?"
"Oh! That was really rude of ," Hashimoto Chiyoko then realized her lapse, quickly stepped aside, and bowed, "Chief of Police Aoyama, please co in."
Aoyama Xiu Xin took off his shoes at the door and walked into the living room in his socks, but found nowhere to sit.
The sofa, the coffee table, the floor—it was all littered with books, manuscripts, as untidy as a dog’s den.
"The house is a bit ssy; I apologize," Hashimoto Chiyoko said, her face turning red with embarrassnt as she hurriedly cleared a space on the sofa, "Please sit down."
"So many books—you can tell Miss Chiyoko is indeed a person of varied interests," Aoyama Xiu Xin complinted as he sat down. His foot knocked sothing; looking down, he saw it was a pen and went to pick it up.
"Oh! I’m so sorry," Hashimoto Chiyoko said, flustered and embarrassed, hurriedly picking it up before him. As she bent down to pick up the pen, her large, voluptuous backside beca even more tempting, the patterns of her lace underwear barely visible. She stood up with the pen and asked, "Chief, would you like sothing to drink?"
"How about we drink this?" Aoyama Xiu Xin suggested, raising the bottle of premium wine. "I’ve just co to Sapporo and don’t have many friends to confide in. I felt an imdiate connection with Miss Chiyoko and actually wanted to have an in-depth chat."
"This..." Alone with a man, drinking red wine in the sa room, Hashimoto Chiyoko hesitated for a mont but then thought better of it. How could she doubt the character of Chief of Police Aoyama? She promptly replied, "Roger! Please wait a mont while I get so glasses and snacks."
While she went to fetch the glasses.
Aoyama Xiu Xin tidied up the coffee table a bit.
When Hashimoto Chiyoko returned, she saw the neatly stacked books and felt so embarrassed that her face flushed a bright red. She set down two glasses and a small dish of appetizers.
Aoyama Xiu Xin opened the bottle, poured the drinks, and raised his glass, saying, "Miss Chiyoda, I toast to you. In this restless society, I truly admire a journalist like you who upholds professional integrity and dares to speak out for the truth."
"I also have great respect for you, you’re the most upright, bravest policeman I know," Hashimoto Chiyoko clinked glasses with him and drained hers in one gulp.
Before Aoyama Xiu Xin had arrived, he had looked up Hashimoto Chiyoko’s background. Knowing that her parents had died early and that she was too honest, lacking familial warmth and having a tough career, he attacked these two weak spots, evoking her inner desolation, leading her to drown her sorrows in alcohol.
By the ti the bottle was empty, Hashimoto Chiyoko’s face was flushed, her eyes glazed, and she collapsed into Aoyama Xiu Xin’s arms, her lips moist and slightly parted as she muttered dreamily, her breaths uneven.
Aoyama Xiu Xin bent down and kissed her. In her haze, Hashimoto Chiyoko didn’t push him away; instead, she eagerly reciprocated and began to clumsily tear at his shirt.
The two of them rolled from the sofa to the floor, scattered with disordered books, assuming various positions amidst the sea of knowledge.
She carried too much negative energy from her experiences.
Mr. Aoyama was going to infuse so positive energy into her.
While the two of them were lost in the sea of knowledge, Fujimoto Takayoshi was busy collecting this month’s paynts in another location.
In a dimly lit private room.
Five middle-aged n, including Fujimoto Takayoshi, sat around a table. Three policen and four mbers of the Violent Gang were counting money beside them, piles of cash on the ground.
Two counting machines were working frantically.
"Minister Fujimoto, it’s less than last month," a policeman turned off the counting machine, stood up, and reported.
Upon hearing this, Fujimoto Takayoshi’s face darkened, and the atmosphere in the room instantly turned oppressive and heavy.
"Explain," he directed his gaze at the other four.
The four n sitting with him were the chairn of the Beihai Family, the leader of the Tangben Group, the Hokkaido regional head of the Yamaguchi Group, and the chairman of the Matsuboto Association.
After recent adjustnts, these four Violent Gangs were now the most powerful factions in the Hokkaido region, thanks to their cooperation with Fujimoto Takayoshi.
"Minister Fujimoto, please don’t be angry. It’s not that we deliberately withheld your cut. The business was just bad last month. Sapporo, as the core city of Hokkaido, has always been our main market. But last month, a new type of high-purity th rapidly spread and took over our market share, leading to a significant decrease in our profits," the leader of the Tangben Group explained.
The chairman of the Beihai Family added, "If this force is allowed to continue growing, we may completely lose our market, ending up with nothing."
After all, even custors shop around.
Their rchandise wasn’t as good as the competitors’, and the price wasn’t as cheap—how could they compete!
"We’ve tried to investigate, but unfortunately, the enemy is well-hidden," said the head of the Yamaguchi Group in Hokkaido.
They had paid protection money.
Naturally, the police should help them eliminate their rivals.
"I’ll take care of this. For this month’s paynt, make up for the shortfall based on last month’s," Fujimoto Takayoshi said with a frown. The tone was less rebuttal, more a stern statent.
He had to help resolve it—if they couldn’t offer protection after taking the protection money, who would pay them in the future?
The four exchanged glances, and eventually, the chairman of the Matsuboto Association spoke up, "We want their formula."
"That’s fine, but the cut will increase by another five percent," Fujimoto Takayoshi agreed but set his terms.
The four had discussed this before coming and Fujimoto Takayoshi’s condition was within their acceptable range, so they agreed. After all, once they got the new formula, the profits they could make would far exceed the current ones.
Even if they had to give the police an extra five percent, the remaining profits would still be more than what they were making now.
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