Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner Chapter 537 - 376: Matsuboto Miyaku’s Secret (Part 2)

Fushimi Roku picked his ear with his pinky, recalling the previous apartnt manager of Sugamo Apartnt. Ever since that guy lost his head on Cat Island, he hadn’t had any contact with the apartnt manager.

"Here we are, it’s this one."

The manager uncle stopped in front of Room 258, took out a set of spare keys from his waist, and searched one by one for the key with the 258 label.

Minamoto Tamako stood at the door, sniffed lightly, then looked disgusted, quickly pinching her nose, and said: "Wow! It really stinks!"

Fushimi Roku slled it too. He crossed his arms and speculated: "Could there be a rotting corpse inside?"

Upon hearing this, the manager uncle’s hand froze while searching for the keys. He turned around suddenly and asked, shivering: "Is that for real..."

"He’s joking," Minamoto Tamako quickly corrected: "The sll of a corpse is different."

Fushimi Roku’s nose wasn’t that sensitive. He occasionally suffered from allergic rhinitis, making him dull to various slls.

In his previous life, he had also been on the scene, slled the stench of a corpse, and felt it wasn’t as mystical as the internet said, unforgettable after slling it; it was just an ordinary rotten sll. Later, he realized that his nose was the problem, unable to distinguish the specific differences in slls.

"Oh co on, as a cop, don’t make jokes like that..."

The manager uncle mumbled as he unlocked the apartnt door with a key.

A stench hit them in the face, making the three of them unable to open their eyes. It was midsumr now, and the sll was intense. Inside the apartnt were big green flies buzzing everywhere.

Seeing this, the manager uncle looked despairing.

Because after tenants move out, it’s his responsibility to clean up.

Minamoto Tamako assud a professional search stance, took gloves, shoe covers, and a hood from her backpack, put them on neatly, and added three layers of masks, but it still couldn’t block the stench inside the room.

She sighed helplessly, stepped back a few steps out of the apartnt, took a few breaths of fresh air on the balcony, and then returned to search.

When Minamoto Tamako returned to the scene, the apartnt manager uncle was already gone. Fushimi Roku, as if nothing happened, stood with one hand on his hip and waved his right hand to drive away the flies, investigating around the room.

"Where is this sll coming from?"

Minamoto Tamako asked as she walked into the entrance: "Is it spoiled at in the fridge?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Minamoto Tamako felt she stepped on sothing soft with a strong feeling of stepping in dog poop... Nowadays, the feeling of stepping in dog poop isn’t yet a slipper advertisent slogan, but rather a very bad foreboding.

Fushimi Roku waited for her to step inside before hinting: "Watch out, there’s dog poop behind the door."

"..."

Minamoto Tamako suspected that Fujimura-kun did it on purpose, but she had no evidence and could only give up. Anyway, she was wearing shoe covers, as long as the covers weren’t torn, her little leather shoes would still be clean.

Fushimi Roku raised his cara and casually snapped photos for evidence.

"What are you photographing?"

Minamoto Tamako leaned over and glanced down, seeing a dog’s corpse lying beside the bed in the bedroom. Based on the degree of decay, it had probably been dead for a while, with white maggots squirming inside and green-headed flies circling the rotten flesh. The floor was littered with dried-up dog excrent. The scene disgusted her.

"Looks like we found the source of the sll," Fushimi Roku said.

There was no need to guess; this was Matsuboto Miyaku’s pet dog. Because the owner hadn’t co ho for a long ti, it starved or died of thirst trapped inside the ho.

Minamoto Tamako pinched her nose across the mask, sounding stuffy as she asked: "Why didn’t the apartnt manager uncle ntion the suspect had a dog..."

"Because dogs are forbidden in this apartnt building."

Fushimi Roku checked the film to ensure it was clear: "The residential rules are posted on the wall in the lobby downstairs, clearly stating that pets aren’t allowed... Single apartnts are like this, with high turnover; having pets would be troubleso."

He paused, glanced at Minamoto Tamako, and sarcastically added: "If soone paid a little more attention, they would have noticed the notice on the wall. By the way, soundproof foam strips were stuck in the bedroom door seam. Even if the dog barked its throat hoarse, people outside wouldn’t hear it."

Minamoto Tamako thought that the observant Fushimi team mber had returned, showing the spirit a detective squad should have!

However, Fujimura-kun’s bad habit recurred; why did he have to ridicule her while reasoning?

Minamoto Tamako felt a bit displeased, raising her little eyebrows. If she wasn’t anxious to investigate the suspect’s residence, how could she have overlooked the clues downstairs? Only soone like Fujimura-kun, taking it easy like a leisurely outing with a grandpa, would idly look at the residents’ notice board!

She snorted coldly, secretly determined to find new clues and turn the tables openly, making Fujimura-kun look up to her as the team captain!

Minamoto Tamako ignored the stench, waving her hands around to drive away disturbing flies. Earlier, her attention was all on the flies and the stink, so she hadn’t had ti to look closely. Now she looked around and finally noticed the bedroom filled with photos.

Leaning closer, Minamoto Tamako saw that the fras were full of photos of Matsuboto Miyaku and his pet. The person and the dog looked very sunny and cheerful, hugging each other and smiling at the cara.

Before she could take a closer look, she noticed Fushimi Roku casually pick up a pen from the scene, squat down, and start poking the dog’s corpse.

Flipping the corpse released an even stronger stench, unbearably pungent. The sll made Minamoto Tamako tear up, blurring her vision so she couldn’t continue investigating the scene.

It is well known that to increase revenue, real estate packs a building with as many single rooms as possible, especially in single apartnts like these. The majority have no windows, only an exhaust vent to not violate building regulations.

This sll fernted in the enclosed room, making one nauseated.

Minamoto Tamako wanted to turn on the exhaust fan but found the apartnt had no electricity. It was probably due to unpaid utility bills, leading the manager to cut the power in the room.

She couldn’t bear the sll, so she couldn’t help but ask: "What are you doing?"

Fushimi Roku pointed at the dog’s genital area with a water-based pen: "It’s a female dog."

"So what?" Minamoto Tamako didn’t follow his train of thought.

"Didn’t Arima Toshio say it before? Hypnosis suggestions cannot break the subject’s own will, indicating Matsuboto Miyaku likely had so impure thoughts about his pet, so his subconscious didn’t resist the ’becoming a male dog’ psychological suggestion..."

"Stop! Don’t pollute my ears with these words!!" Minamoto Tamako scread, covering her ears.

Fushimi Roku thought how girls from the nineties were really inexperienced. In another thirty years, when Japan’s furries erge, Minamoto Tamako would gain firsthand experience of the diversity of human aesthetics.

Not to ntion waiting another thirty years, as back in 1955, Disney already launched a classic animated film titled "Lady and the Tramp," narrating the love and adventure tale of Lady and Tramp. Its classic spaghetti-kissing scene is still a childhood mory for many people... There’s nothing wrong with the plot of this cartoon; the only issue is that the main characters and the heroine are two dogs.

"Anyway, that’s what I think."

Fushimi Roku wiped the water-based pen with the bedsheet and then put the pen back in place. He stood up, looking around carefully to ensure nothing was missed, ready to leave.

Minamoto Tamako was unwilling to give up. She felt there might be other clues to explain why Matsuboto Miyaku was hypnotized... For instance, perhaps Matsuboto Miyaku was an exhibitionist with a peculiar habit of peeing everywhere. Such explanations were more acceptable than Fujimura-kun’s deduction.

However, when she opened the wardrobe door, the clothes in view left her utterly dumbfounded.

On the hanger hung two adult dog costus made of simulated fur, with a bunch of unsightly photos pasted on the inner wall.

Fushimi Roku stood behind her, whistling:

"See, what did I say."