Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner Chapter 800 - 485: Assassination

Enduring through the days, Minamoto Tamako got past the rough patch, and her jet lag adjusted back. She was responsible for dayti surveillance and rested at night.

Fushimi Roku remained energetic, even maintaining the scent of his shower gel; he sneaked off for a bath while Minamoto Tamako slept. When night ca, he handed the surveillance duty over to Abe Rokuro, letting Abe continue the task.

On the fourth night, Minamoto Tamako was sound asleep with an eye mask on, while Fushimi Roku flipped through comic magazines to pass the ti.

Suddenly, his phone chid—it was a ssage alert.

He opened it to see a ssage from Abe Rokuro:

"Suspect showing irregular behavior, has left residence, possibly headed to Shinjuku Street, currently tracking."

Fushimi Roku was taken aback, thinking that perhaps sothing had gone wrong, yet he found it troubleso; he hadn’t finished his comic, so why rush into work?

Perhaps Horie Kei was just heading to Shinjuku Street for so fun; a grown man would have needs that are understandable.

If sothing major truly happened, Abe Rokuro would surely notify him for support. Since no support was requested, it was just normal movent.

With this thought, Fushimi Roku crossed his legs and continued reading his comic.

...

anwhile, Abe Rokuro was disguised as a holess person, leading a ’stray dog,’ shadowing Horie Kei from a considerable distance.

Through observation during this period, Abe Rokuro discovered that the suspect had a strong counter-surveillance awareness.

Horie Kei certainly hadn’t received professional training; it was probably a giftedness, instinctively sensing others’ gaze. Perhaps due to being ignored for long periods, he beca very sensitive to scrutiny.

To Horie Kei, soone like Minamoto Tamako with a telescope trained on him, it would be like a 1000w high-powered streetlight in the dark, directly illuminating his face.

Abe Rokuro realized this, so he never looked directly at Horie Kei. If he needed to observe, he used peripheral vision, as if his gaze was rely skimming across scenery, without lingering for a mont.

The result was surprisingly effective; Horie Kei really didn’t notice him.

To avoid losing track, Abe Rokuro invested heavily in buying a dog, training it to track people by scent. Being not a professional police dog, it had plenty of quirks, often veering toward the entrance of yakitori restaurants.

But fortunately, the general direction was accurate, and Abe Rokuro used his judgnt to follow all the way to Shinjuku Street’s red-light district.

Horie Kei navigated into a bathhouse swiftly and erged changed into a new outfit. His upper body was clad in a black suit uniform, while the lower body donned a simple pair of slacks, like any ordinary office worker.

He stood alone on the street corner, frequently checking his watch, seemingly waiting for soone. With people bustling around, no one even spared him a glance.

Abe Rokuro found a corner, lay down with the dog, pretending to rest. But before his backside even touched the streetlight pole, a security guard appeared from nowhere, shouting at him to scram.

"Move along! No lying down here!" the guard yelled.

Abe Rokuro was afraid of alarming the suspect, so he got up and planned to leave slowly. He discreetly ssaging Senior Fujiwara, hoping Senior Fujiwara could take over and continue tracking.

Soon after, Senior Fujiwara replied:

"Keep it up, I believe in you; the ti has co to test your ability."

A sense of mission welled up within Abe Rokuro, feeling like a warrior dying for his confidant. He beca fervently zealous, breaking into a brisk run into the public restroom, quickly shedding his disguise, putting on a baseball cap to cover his forehead, gingerly stepping out while scanning his surroundings for Horie Kei.

A car stopped at the roadside, Horie Kei seed to have awaited his target, naturally approaching the car to help open the door.

A middle-aged man with a rugged appearance stepped out, adjusted his suit, striding toward the opulent hotel, without sparing Abe Rokuro a glance.

Bodyguards from the escort vehicle ran out front and back, surrounding the middle-aged man and incidentally isolating Horie Kei. Yet they didn’t question Horie Kei, subconsciously taking him for the hotel’s usher.

Abe Rokuro recognized the middle-aged man as Fujiwara, the forr Director of Police, now a legislator in Congress, a rather significant identity.

Could it be...

Abe Rokuro had a bad premonition, waiting for the group to enter the hotel; he looked around, ensuring no one noticed, and promptly followed.

The hotel entrance was a revolving door, with two doorn stationed on either side. As Abe Rokuro closed in, he was stopped by the doorn.

"Sir, do you have a reservation?" one of them asked.

"No, I want to book a room right now," Abe Rokuro replied tersely.

The doorn exchanged a glance, did not obstruct, but led him to the front desk for check-in. Abe Rokuro entered the lobby and asked for a standard room, not forgetting to scan around, pondering where Horie Kei might make his move.

"42,500 yen, sir," the receptionist bead.

Abe Rokuro gasped. He hadn’t anticipated a standard room here to be so pricey. But since he had co this far and bore this duty, he had no choice but to bleed money, swiping his credit card to settle the bill.

With the room key in hand, Abe Rokuro hurried upstairs with the dog.

The price of the hotel had its perks; most hotels forbid pets, but this one not only allowed it but also provided pet supplies, like a litter box, poop bags, chew toys, and other consumables.

After all, it was forty thousand yen a night!

Heart aching, Abe Rokuro beca more fervent in his resolve to catch the culprit. He requested so premium dog food from the service staff, feeding the dog in the room, then let it continue tracking by scent.

It’s worth ntioning that the "dog" is small in size, not young in age. Abe Rokuro couldn’t choose a conspicuous large breed due to disguise constraints, opting for a small dog that could be carried.

The well-fed dog beca notably efficient, leading Abe Rokuro left and right into the banquet hall.

Abe Rokuro initially thought the creature was just being greedy for the restaurant, readying to leave when Horie Kei casually appeared at the corridor’s end pushing a food cart, naturally slipping into the banquet hall.

Abe Rokuro paused and quickly followed, peering in through the box’s glass door.

He saw an exquisitely decorated European-style banquet hall, featuring a large walnut table for twenty, draped with dark red velvet table runners.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their warm yellow lights refracting through multiple layers, casting fragnted reflections on the gilt wallpaper.

Three sets of leather sofas against the wall ford a lounge area, the coffee tables cluttered with cigar cutters and whiskey buckets, as if people had been waiting there for so ti.

As soon as Councilor Fujiwara entered the banquet hall, those waiting stood, shaking hands and chatting amicably, seemingly negotiating so important matter, talking too quietly for Abe Rokuro to comprehend.

Floor-to-ceiling curtains frad each window in heavy champagne fabric, presently tied back to reveal Shinjuku’s streets, the glass faintly reflecting Horie Kei’s shadow as he pushed the food cart.

Abe Rokuro had barely observed when several bodyguards suddenly spun around, he quickly ducked his head, pretending to casually pass through the corridor.

Inside seed poised for business talk, bodyguards filed out and stood guard at the door. Waitstaff stopped serving dishes, busying in the kitchen until guests commanded for food.

Horie Kei seed like a ghost, weaving among roles—sotis as usher, sotis server, sotis as client assistant—flitting between areas, engaging in brief chanical exchanges without leaving impressions.

Over two hours later, a call from the box resonated, allowing servers to resu dishes; those inside presumably concluded their conversation. Councilor Fujiwara staggered off to the restroom, Horie Kei trailing closely, soon steadying Fujiwara Homare.

The bodyguards assud he was an assistant, Fujiwara Councilor thought he was a waiter, nobody gave attention, allowing them to enter the n’s room alone.

Abe Rokuro’s eyelids twitched, sensing sothing amiss, swiftly pursued inside.