Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner Chapter 34 The First Unlucky Guy

"How—how did you know his last na is Natsu?"

Yoshimura Yu had beads of sweat on his forehead. As he asked, he couldn’t help but glance nervously at Instructor Shirota, hoping the latter would stop Minamoto Tamako from spouting nonsense.

He had always been the top perforr in the class, with the highest GPA, and this graduation exam should have been his personal showcase... Rather, he firmly believed that being a cop was a man’s profession, and female police officers were just decorative ornants.

Soone as small as Minamoto Tamako should console victims, serve tea to superiors, do so trivial chores, and eventually find a reliable man to marry. Won should act like won; this was a man’s battlefield. What place did a chatterbox have here?

He wasn’t the only one who thought this way. In the police force, imbued with the Showa era’s vibes, ninety percent of officers thought the sa. In 1990s Japan, workplace gender discrimination was extrely severe, and the ’gentlemanly treatnt’ female officers received was disproportionate to their ’salary and benefits.’

Minamoto Tamako turned her head, her pupils refracting a dreamy light under the forest’s shade.

"His full na is Natsu Shiro, and it’s written on his gambling ticket. He’s a restaurant owner and head chef because he has calluses on his hands from using a knife for years, the change slls of cooking oil, and the wallet bears the na of his restaurant, ’Shiro Izakaya.’"

After she finished speaking, the forest fell silent, only for distant ethereal bird calls to be heard.

Yoshimura Yu comforted himself, thinking that anyone could figure out what Minamoto Tamako said; she just acted a little faster. If he were in her place, he could have reached the sa conclusions after inspecting the scene...

"Moreover, this case is very likely a cri committed by a familiar acquaintance," Minamoto Tamako continued.

"Huh?" The other three were taken aback.

"This lighter is a custom-made item. It features a pattern of a plant called the Fushimi Roku tree, whose flower language symbolizes ’prosperous fortune.’ Lighting it left-handed can easily push open the tal lid, ensuring the pattern faces the user in both orientations."

Minamoto Tamako pinched the tal lighter, showing it to everyone: "This ans that the original owner of the lighter was not the deceased but a friend familiar with him. Gamblers are very superstitious about lending their ’lucky charms’ to others, fearing it would lend away their own luck..."

The others’ thoughts began to lag behind, and Yoshimura Yu looked at her with a complex expression, but no one spoke up to refute her.

"...In conclusion, combining this with the cigarette butt next to the deceased’s foot, it’s basically deduced that it was a cri committed by soone acquainted." After Minamoto Tamako finished, she put the lighter in her pocket.

Hideo felt like he was back in high school listening to a math teacher’s lecture; at first, they were reviewing the multiplication table, and upon looking up again, the blackboard was full of English letters.

"Um, how can you tell the lighter wasn’t owned by the deceased?" The girl with braids raised her hand weakly and asked, "And what does it have to do with the cigarette butt at the deceased’s foot? How did you link it to a familiar acquaintance cri?"

Upon hearing the keyword, Minamoto Tamako imdiately snapped back to clarity, thinking that this was how it felt to be asked why. It was exhilarating! No wonder classmates like Fushimi enjoyed being the enigma!

She bead with pride, her smile uncontrollable, feeling like she had just taken a big gulp of icy soda on a hot day, refreshing her from head to toe.

"Oh, hahaha, it’s actually quite simple, let explain..."

Before Minamoto Tamako could finish, Yoshimura Yu interrupted her: "Enough! Since the victim’s identity is clear, we should rush to the sighting location; we don’t have ti to waste explaining... Let’s go, ti to set off."

Minamoto Tamako inwardly thought it was a pity. If soone didn’t understand her reasoning process, she’d be itching to explain it clearly.

She intended to chat with the girl with braids on the way, but never got a chance to speak. Yoshimura Yu took the lead ahead, setting the pace briskly, forcing her to jog to barely keep up.

Within an hour, Minamoto Tamako was already drenched in sweat. Her blue-and-white uniform was soaked, becoming semi-transparent.

She felt as if her heart was about to burst and couldn’t help but ask, "How—how much further?"

"Almost there, about another half hour to go," Yoshimura Yu replied without panting.

"What? There’s still half an hour..." Minamoto Tamako’s head drooped down.

Yoshimura Yu thought to himself, that’s more like it; how could a woman’s stamina compare to a man’s? Even if she was a bit more attentive than a man, she wouldn’t be able to catch criminals at the front line and could only do so logistical analysis work.

He stopped and turned back to examine Minamoto Tamako, smiling as he said, "If you’re too tired, how about I carry you? Holding onto my hand should also save you so energy."

Finally, it’s my ti to shine! Yoshimura Yu already imagined how soft Minamoto Tamako’s body would feel when held. Once she leaned on his strong arm, she’d surely praise him, saying, ’Captain, you’re so manly, so gentlemanly...’

Upon hearing this, Minamoto Tamako looked up, stunned, thinking, are you really that obvious in your intentions? Instructor Shirota is watching right next by! Helping now would only an a deduction in points, wouldn’t it?

She had another thought: this exam was rank-based, and everyone was a potential competitor! Did the captain’s mind really think that intricately, already figuring ways to eliminate rivals? Looks like a formidable opponent!

Before Minamoto Tamako could voice her refusal, Yoshimura Yu suddenly missed a step, his body falling into the bushes below, emitting a scream.

"—Ah!!"

The girl with braids was frightened too, and scread alongside, her voice even higher than Yoshimura Yu’s, truly ear-piercing.

Forest birds flew away, flapping their wings in the distance.

...

Fushimi Roku sat on a protruding rock on the hilltop, shivering as he stuck his hands into his sleeves. The cold wind was as sharp as a knife, numbing his face.

Hearing the panicked shouting from the forest, he finally stood up, stomped his feet, and stretched his body.

"Finally, one unlucky guy," Fushimi Roku sighed.

Last night, Instructor Shirota called him into the office, saying they needed a student to play the role of the perpetrator, and asked Fushimi Roku if he was interested. He decisively said no, but it was of no use; it was an order, not a negotiation.

Initially, he thought it was no big deal. Playing a murderer wasn’t difficult; he didn’t actually have to kill anyone, just run fast.

However, after being sent to the mountaintop, he realized what a massive trap it was. The instructor didn’t give him a map or compass, only three bottles of bottled water and a backpack full of compressed biscuits, letting Fushimi Roku figure it out himself.

—Without a map, how was he supposed to find the rendezvous point in San’in?

Without an accompanying instructor, what if he got lost in the mountains?

Faced with Fushimi Roku’s questions, Instructor Shirota rely patted his shoulder, speaking earnestly, "I never planned to let you graduate... I told you on the first day, if your attendance isn’t enough, you’ll have to defer graduation, even if you fall sick, there’s no room for negotiation."

Fushimi Roku pulled his thoughts away from the mories, stretching his arms and making his spine joints crackle.

"Since that’s the case, let’s all not graduate."