Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner Chapter 67: The Genius’s Final Masterpiece

Once the Criminal Police Division files a case, it’s no longer just a private investigation.

Yamaguchi Takashi applied for a search warrant from the judge on the grounds of searching for missing persons. That night, the apartnt building was cordoned off, and Yasukawa Seiji was taken to the police station for questioning while the officers took statents from each household. At the strong request of Yazaki Momo, Fushimi Roku and Minamoto Tamako were temporarily assigned to cooperate with Yamaguchi Takashi in handling the case.

As the Identification Officer was picking the lock, Yamaguchi Takashi extended an arm, placed his hands on his hips, and reprimanded, "Listen, you two rookies stay out of the way, don’t hold back, and keep quiet once inside, got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Minamoto Tamako stood at attention and saluted.

Fushimi Roku just regarded Yamaguchi Takashi’s words as a fart. He wasn’t in the sa departnt as Yamaguchi Takashi and had no desire for promotion, so he didn’t need to mind his attitude.

He gave Yazaki Momo a look, and she imdiately understood. The two walked one after the other to the corner of the hallway. Once sure no one was around, Yazaki Momo pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and expertly tapped out a filtered one: "Want one? Mild Seven, hope you don’t mind?"

"No, I don’t smoke." Fushimi Roku had never picked up the bad habit of smoking in this life, and he didn’t plan on becoming a chain smoker again.

Yazaki Momo didn’t mind, holding the slim cigarette between her lips. She lit it with a tal lighter, took a deep puff, then blew smoke rings in Fushimi Roku’s direction: "So, what’s up? Why did you call ?"

"I wanted to ask you for so information." Fushimi Roku didn’t blink.

Yazaki Momo leaned her shoulder against the wall and said, "Ask away, if I can tell, I will. If not, I can set a price."

"Are there any police boxes in Japan with high cri rates but idle patrol police?" Fushimi Roku knew it was a silly question, but he still wanted to ask.

"You might as well ask if there are any good wives and mothers in Kabukicho," Yazaki Momo replied.

"Okay, let’s pretend I didn’t ask..."

"Wait," Yazaki Momo pulled out a bent business card from her chest: "Are you interested in being my informant? If you co across any interesting cases, you can call anyti. If it gets published, I’ll pay you a handso reward."

Fushimi Roku took the card, which still retained so warmth. He glanced down at it and pocketed it, neither accepting nor rejecting the offer.

The two understood each other without words and ended the conversation.

When they returned to their spots, the Identification Officer had just unlocked the door. Yamaguchi Takashi was the first to step forward, putting on a headcover, gloves, and shoe covers as he entered the room.

Minamoto Tamako’s petite nose twitched slightly; she didn’t sll any decay or blood, but rather a strange scent resembling oleander, causing her to frown.

Why would soone place oleander in a room? What a peculiar habit...

The scent wasn’t strong, so others didn’t notice. Yamaguchi Takashi flicked the light switch but got no response, so he had to use a flashlight to scan the room.

The room wasn’t big, about ten square ters, and was in disarray. A table lamp was shattered, a small wooden table missing a leg was tilted on the floor, and a few books were scattered on the tatami, with so broken, curved tiles in the corner.

The furniture inside was pathetically sparse, with only a faded futon and a cabinet with photos. Minamoto Tamako approached, turned on her flashlight, and examined the strange photograph.

It was particularly narrow, presumably a family portrait, but the mother’s face had been cut out, leaving only her body holding a baby in swaddling clothes; the father’s entire body was cut out, leaving only an arm resting on his wife’s shoulder.

How had a whole family beco so fragnted... The thought made Minamoto Tamako feel sowhat heartbroken, increasingly worried about the missing child.

Yamaguchi Takashi noticed a wooden stick in the corner, suspecting it might be the murder weapon, and asked the Identification Officer to take it back for examination.

"It’s not the murder weapon." Minamoto Tamako suddenly said.

She had deduced a lot of useful information after seeing the scene, but with the current clues, it was still impossible to locate the madwoman and the child.

Yamaguchi Takashi was embarrassed in public and beca more displeased: "Didn’t I tell you to shut up? You—"

"A thousand apologies!" Minamoto Tamako interrupted quickly.

She had re-entered the state of Heart Flow for the case. With a child’s life at stake, she couldn’t afford to worry about honor or rank: "A child’s life is at stake right now, and there’s no ti for a slow investigation. Would you all please step back and let try reconstructing the scene using profiling?"

"Huh?! What nonsense? Who is your superior? Have them speak to !"

Yamaguchi Takashi didn’t really think Minamoto Tamako was causing trouble. He had noticed at the airport that this little one genuinely had so skills. He was afraid that Minamoto Tamako might actually deduce so clues, stealing credit from the Investigation Division and embarrassing the entire Toyota Police Station.

Fushimi Roku inserted himself at the right ti, falsely claiming that Yazaki Momo wanted to do a small interview with Yamaguchi Takashi, and also interview other officers about their investigation insights. Yazaki Momo heard this, understood imdiately, and cooperatively took out pen and paper, posing for an interview.

"Count on you, future famous detective."

He sent all the officers outside, gave Minamoto Tamako a bit of encouragent, and urged, "Finish quickly so we can clock off."

"Leave it to ." Minamoto Tamako strained her small face.

She stood her flashlight on the cabinet, illuminating most of the room.

After taking several deep breaths, Minamoto Tamako slowly closed her eyes, clearing her mind of all distractions. Her self-consciousness sank as if into an icy seabed, deeper and quieter, with all the information rapidly integrating into her subconscious, almost like self-hypnosis reconstructing in her mind.

When she opened her eyes again, the room transford into an independent world where she was its sovereign. Ti reversed at her Will; she saw the broken-legged low table reassemble, the books scattered across the floor stacked again under the table; she saw the wooden stick lying between the windowsill and the cabinet, leaving a groove as the days passed... Ti sped up, advancing rapidly along an axis.

With a crisp snap, Minamoto Tamako turned her head. The sun shone brightly outside, and ti returned to the starting point as soone opened the door.

"From today, this will be our ho," the girl said.

This was the first ti Minamoto Tamako saw real people during a profiling session. The girl seed only seven or eight years old, with braids and freckles dotting her face. She held the hand of a woman in a white dress as they entered the small room.

Minamoto Tamako stood by their side, like an invisible ghost.

In her eyes, everything was so real.

The woman in white’s face was indistinct, which was the norm during Minamoto Tamako’s profiling; she couldn’t see specific people.

But this girl had a clear face and a distinct voice.

Ti accelerated again, their actions flickering like stop-motion, unnaturally fast. Eventually, ti paused during a night. The girl stood on the low table, having just scraped the ceiling’s plaster, looked down and said, "Open your eyes."

Minamoto Tamako awoke from the profiling, with a trickle of nosebleed, but didn’t bother to wipe it, instead raising her head dazedly.

The ceiling was covered with uneven scrape marks and stains. As Minamoto Tamako angled the flashlight, the wall’s light and shadows ford two intricately detailed faces, one large and one small.

— The genius’s last work.