Shinjuku, Okubo.
Morimoto Chiyoda had the task force’s files neatly organized on the small table, already submitted to the forr Police Director. Yet, with the inspection from the new Police Director imminent, she had to reorganize them. The formalities had to be observed; that was the point of inspections from above.
"What troubleso bureaucracy," Morimoto Chiyoda muttered.
"Morimoto, don’t complain. The Police Director is coming; line up quickly," Okayama Buji reminded her.
Morimoto Chiyoda shrugged and returned to the line. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder was ant to project an image of the task force’s unity. Her gaze was fixed on the door.
The hour hand of the clock hanging in the living room ticked steadily, and when the ti ca, it emitted a CUCKOO CUCKOO to announce the hour.
The door handle turned, and a wave of casual conversation flowed in from outside. Morimoto Chiyoda first noticed Emily, and then her attention was drawn to Ponte.
He looked remarkably young, his face unmarred by the hardships of life, appearing to be in his twenties rather than showing any signs of being over forty. He had Beatles-esque, shoulder-length hair, was tall and slim, and possessed a ntal agility not typical of middle-aged individuals. His Police Director’s uniform jacket was casually tied around his waist, over a white undershirt, lightweight sweatpants, and sneakers.
A love for adventure, a sunny disposition, and a disregard for rules—these three traits were clearly displayed to outsiders through his attire and speech. So clear, in fact, that Morimoto Chiyoda concluded these were traits Ponte deliberately projected, much like a persona crafted for a pop idol group.
"Is this the task force? Indeed, a gathering of talent." Ponte, smiling and speaking fluent Japanese without the slightest hint of a foreign accent, waved his hand. "No need for everyone to be so tense. Please sit down. I’m the newcor here, and in this regard, I will still need everyone’s help."
As he spoke, Ponte took a seat on an armchair before anyone else, glanced quickly through the files on the table, then put them back and said with a smile, "Dr. Ditch, sorry for the trouble."
"Hmm." With a grunt of assent, the silent, white-haired old man who had followed Ponte stepped forward. Unlike Ponte, who seed to disregard rules, the old man’s short silver hair was neatly combed, and every wrinkle on his face appeared symtrical. His attire was impeccable, without a single crease, reminiscent of a stern, old-fashioned university professor.
Dr. Ditch took out his cell phone from his pocket and aid it at the docunts.
Emily furrowed her brows and reminded, "The instructions state that these docunts cannot be photographed or recorded."
"Please rest assured," Dr. Ditch responded. "I’m not photographing them for records, just reading the reports on paper to input them into the AI, ’God Detective’."
After this brief explanation, Dr. Ditch said no more.
Ponte, with a smile, said, "Considering the limits of the human brain, we specifically had Dr. Ditch develop an AI, ’God Detective.’ All we need to do is input all collected data into ’God Detective’ and then continuously feed it relevant case-solving information. Then ’God Detective’ can sift through the massive data to find commonalities and assist us in apprehending criminals, with an accuracy rate of 97%. We’ve already tried it in the United States, and it works exceptionally well."
Emily’s heart sank as she realized her predicant was serious, but she still attempted to object, "Is that okay?"
"Of course," Ponte replied with youthful vigor. "We are in the age of AI. If used properly, AI can make life much more convenient. However, to ensure accuracy, we need to feed a vast amount of Japanese cases into ’God Detective’. That is the next task for the task force: you are to input all cases that have occurred in the Tokyo 23 District this year into ’God Detective’."
Morimoto Chiyoda inhaled sharply, astonished. "All of them?"
"Yes, every single case from the archives of the various local police stations, without missing a single one!" he emphasized.
Morimoto Chiyoda was tempted to ask if he even knew how many cases occurred daily in the Tokyo 23 District. Fraud, dine-and-dash incidents, brawls, verbal assaults, theft, cris of passion, robbery-murders—in the densely populated Tokyo 23 District, ho to tens of millions, cris were being committed every day, every hour. The number of cases recorded in each district was overwhelming. Counting from the beginning of the year, many files had likely already accumulated a thick layer of dust. The workload was imnse, comparable to investigating every religious group individually—perhaps even more ntally taxing.
"Only by feeding it a large number of cases can ’God Detective’ more accurately analyze traces left by Dio. Before Dio implents his ’Paradise Plan,’ it’s very likely he has already started experinting on people. Using human brains to deduce those patterns would be incredibly difficult; we must rely on ’God Detective’ to extract suspicious points from the vast database."
Ponte had to take the ti to explain clearly. He wasn’t foolish; he didn’t believe that simply relying on the Morgan Family’s power could make everyone serve him wholeheartedly. Prestige must be built over ti. Until he established sufficient prestige, he had to explain his actions clearly to prevent his subordinates from developing a passive or unmotivated attitude.
"You can start by watching how Dr. Ditch uses his cell phone to scan the text on these docunts and input it into ’God Detective’."
Morimoto Chiyoda and the others stepped forward to observe. The scanning process was quite simple. Dr. Ditch just aid the cara at the paper, and with a quick scan, all the text was read.
Dr. Ditch explained, "Sotis, the scanned text has omissions or errors, requiring a manual check before clicking the upload button."
At this point, he tapped ’Upload,’ and a spinning circle appeared on the screen. After it finished, the contents of that page had been fed into ’God Detective.’ Dr. Ditch then tapped ’scan’ to continue with the next page. He was patient with Morimoto and the others.
But to Emily, who was trying to stand on her toes to see clearly, Dr. Ditch said with a cold expression, "I hate Russians, and this task force does not need Russians."
Emily sighed inwardly; her worst fears had co to pass. Ever since they had t earlier, she had sensed sothing off about the way Dr. Ditch looked at her. Now, this single sentence had essentially shattered any superficial harmony.
"Dr. Ditch," Ponte began, seemingly about to say sothing, but Dr. Ditch remained unfazed.
"I will not work with Russians."
"I’m sorry, Miss Emily, I regret this, but I must ask you and Miss Katerina to leave the task force." Ponte spread his hands. "Rest assured, I will compensate you with double your salary, and I hope you can maintain confidentiality about everything here."
"No problem." Emily’s expression remained calm; she wasn’t fooled by him.
The Morgans Group had always been a major donor to the Democratic Party. His attitude reflected that of the Democratic Party. Without ’God Detective,’ Ponte, driven by practical interests, would have kept Emily as a tool for solving cases. But with ’God Detective’ available, there was no longer a need to keep a Russian on the task force. As a major benefactor of the Democratic Party and a high-ranking mber of the deep state, Ponte could not afford to create the impression of being pro-Russian.
「In the evening, at Ayase Apartnt.」
Aozawa humd a song, stepping out of the elevator with a cheerful stride. His mind replayed the little gas he’d played with Iroha, and he felt a surge of joy, eagerly anticipating their next date.
He reached out, turned the door handle, and called, "Chitose, I’m back!"
"Mhm." Her soft, charming voice was clearly tinged with displeasure.
Aozawa looked at the dishes on the table—stir-fried beef, green peppers with eggplant, scrambled eggs with chives, spicy stir-fried cabbage—and could tell the amount of at had noticeably decreased.
"Chitose, are you in a bad mood?"
"Yes, I am." Morimoto Chiyoda didn’t deny her bad mood. She untied her white apron and grumbled, "The new Police Director isn’t an easy person to get along with. The task force is under his direct command now; we’re in for a lot of suffering ahead."
Aozawa, a hint of surprise on his face as he closed the door behind him, remarked, "To think he’d make you show such a helpless expression."
"Power is a tricky thing," Morimoto Chiyoda shrugged. "A word from those at the top can turn the task force upside down. Emily and Katerina were fired, just because they’re Russian."
Aozawa pictured a petite doll-like girl and a tall, muscular woman in his mind. He sat on a high stool and said, "Don’t be too downhearted. You’ll get used to it. Just revert to your old slacking-off ways."
"Yeah, it would be best if I slacked off so much that guy kicks off the task force. I don’t want to work in such a high-pressure atmosphere."
Morimoto Chiyoda served Aozawa a bowl of rice, then glanced at his expression and asked, "Your date with your little girlfriend seems to have gone well. There’s a certain lightness in your voice."
"Haha, it was okay," Aozawa smiled, not giving it full marks, mindful not to provoke Chitose’s emotions too much.
Morimoto Chiyoda’s eyes narrowed slightly. She didn’t believe a date that could make a person nearly float on air would be described as just ’okay.’ Clearly, it must have been far better than expected to warrant such an expression.
Her love life and career—both had hit a Waterloo. This fact made Morimoto Chiyoda despise the day even more. She picked up a piece of beef. "Ah, for you."
Aozawa opened his mouth.
Morimoto Chiyoda brushed the piece of beef against his teeth, then brought it back to her own mouth and chewed slowly.
"Chitose, weren’t you going to feed ?"
Morimoto Chiyoda swallowed the at and said languidly, "You wish. Going out on a date with soone else and then expecting to feed you when you get back? Do you really think I don’t get jealous at all?"
"Jealous? What about?" Aozawa grinned, placing a piece of eggplant in her bowl. "I’ve always considered you my empress. When are you free? Let’s go on a date then."
"I won’t be free for a long ti. A new boss always makes big changes. His first move was firing Emily and Katerina; his second is to eliminate the task force’s holidays."
Morimoto Chiyoda could imagine the work ahead: constantly feeding cases into ’God Detective.’ If this year’s work yielded nothing, they’d probably have to dig into last year’s cases.
An endless workload, with no hope of a holiday in sight. Morimoto Chiyoda truly wished she could return to Ayase Police Station and continue slacking off.
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