The platoon leader dropped to his knees. Even after the footsteps faded into the distance and the dark silence returned, he remained curled up in a ball, trembling like a child. After retiring from the warehouse, Kyouka and Atsushi walked down the path along the seaside, coldly lit under the streetlamps. But less than a minute later, Atsushi suddenly lost his balance and fell to his knees. “Are you okay?” Kyouka rushed over. “I-I’m…fine, Kyouka,” Atsushi painfully moaned. “I was just…transformed…for a long time tonight… That’s all…” Kyouka swiftly opened Atsushi’s overcoat, exposing his neck, which was hidden beneath his tall stand-up collar. A large, sturdy iron choker was strapped around Atsushi’s neck. Both sides were adorned with clawlike spikes. Each spike dug into his skin, sending several streams of blood trickling down his body. “You need to take that off.” Kyouka reached out to remove the choker. “It’s fine.” Atsushi groaned in agony. “Without this restraint and the pain…I can’t control the tiger’s power. I’d be putting you in danger if I ever lost control.” “But—” “Allow us to take you back, Sir Atsushi.” A group of men in black suits were standing in the darkness where the streetlamps’ light couldn’t reach. “Hiro…tsu…” Atsushi painfully smirked while holding the back of his neck. “And everyone in Black Lizard, too… Thanks for…keeping watch for us…” The dozen or so suited men bowed in unison. “It appears you have annihilated the enemy as planned. Excellent work, sir.” The middle-aged gentleman standing at the head of the group faintly nodded at Atsushi. “Now, if you would please come back with us to headquarters for treatment. You can report to the boss after that.” “All right,” Atsushi said with a nod. “The boss’s plan went smoothly as always… We lured the enemy into the darkness and annihilated them. He even knew where to place Kyouka…because he saw through their bomb tactic.” Atsushi unsteadily pushed off his knee and stood back up. “I need to see the boss right away. I’ve already got another mission lined up,” said Atsushi while looking straight ahead. “That man saved me from hell and let me join the organization. Whatever he wants me to do, I do.” Atsushi then began to walk, carrying the weight of darkness on his shoulders but wearing an innocent expression on his face. “Tell the boss—tell Dazai I’ll be there soon.” The door to the café opened, and a tall man walked inside. “Oh,” squeaked Tanizaki after turning around to see who came in. “Glad you could make it. What took you so long?” “You’re late,” commented Kunikida after looking over at the new arrival. “The newcomer you invited caused a scene while you were out doing who knows what. Hurry up and take care of it.” The tall man scratched his head and muttered, “Yeah, sorry about that.” He tottered over to their table, faced the waitress who had tripped a moment ago and was exhaustingly wiping the floor, then quietly placed his order: “I’ll have the curry.” He then took a seat next to Akutagawa. Dressed in a sand-colored coat, the man had reddish-copper hair and a five-o’clock shadow. It was difficult to get a read on him from his expression. It always seemed that he was both concentrating on something, yet thinking about nothing at the same time. “So? Why were you late, Oda?” asked Kunikida. “The old lady at the tobacco shop down the street kept talking and wouldn’t let me go,” Oda said simply. “Again?” Kunikida frowned. “Chatty old folks really seem to like you. At any rate, although it’s wonderful that you respect your elders, you can’t be three hours late to work. You have to start saying no to them from time to time.” “I did. Nobody takes me seriously,” Oda replied, looking incredulous. “I really can’t tell when you’re being serious sometimes…,” replied Kunikida with a troubled stare. “At least make it look like you’re not enjoying yourself so they’ll realize you want to go home.” “I do, but nobody notices.” “Really? Show me.” Oda stared blankly at Kunikida in silence. After a few seconds had passed, Kunikida’s expression turned suspicious, and he asked, “How much longer is this going to take?” “I’m doing it right now.” “Oh… Uh-huh…,” replied Kunikida with an exhausted sigh. Tanizaki noticed the troubled looks on their faces and tried to change the subject. “Uh… Akutagawa, I’m sure you already know who he is, but allow me to formally introduce you. This is Sakunosuke Oda. He’s been a detective at the agency for two years now, and from today on, he’s going to be your mentor.” “I look forward to working with you, Oda.” Akutagawa bowed his head reverently. “Me too.” Oda nodded without changing his expression. “You been eating?” “Yes.” “Good.” Right after Oda nodded, the waitress gently placed his plate of curry in front of him. Oda gave her an acknowledging look. “If you hadn’t found me, I would have surely perished at that riverbank,” said Akutagawa. Watching Akutagawa submissively lower his head, Kunikida mentioned, “Oda has a habit of going out of his way to help orphans in need, after all.” “I just felt like it,” commented Oda before digging his silver spoon into the curry and taking a bite. “…This curry isn’t spicy. At all. Did they give me something off the kids’ menu?” Oda turned around in his seat and called out to the waitress standing in the back. “Excuse me, waitress? Do you think you could switch this—?” That was when Akutagawa attacked Oda using one of his deadly cloth blades without any warning, seemingly out of the blue. Its sharp point was aimed straight for Oda’s head; Oda wouldn’t see it coming from his blind spot. One hit, and Oda would be swiftly and silently decapitated. Oda used his spoon to parry the blade and send it off course…all without even looking back at what was attacking him. The cloth blade passed right by his face, scorching the air. After glancing in its direction, Oda continued, “Do you think you could switch this curry out for something a little spicier?” The waitress let him know she would be right back with a spicy curry. “What…?” Meanwhile, the detectives watching the attempted murder froze in mute amazement. Eventually, Kunikida managed to squeak, “What the hell was that?” “It’s not curry if it isn’t spicy,” Oda replied, turning to his fellow detective. “That’s not what I meant!” shouted Kunikida. “New guy! What the hell did you just do?! Because to me, it was pretty clear you were trying to slice off his head!” “Why do you ask?” answered Akutagawa as two more blades of fabric pierced the air. The gray blades were precisely aimed for Oda’s face and heart, but Oda slightly tilted his head to the side and leaned back, dodging both attacks. Not once did Oda ever even glance at the blades. “Hey!” “He suddenly tried to attack me when I found him at the riverbank,” Oda explained with the utmost nonchalance. “But when I repelled his attacks, he said he wanted me to teach him how to become stronger. I told him I didn’t know how to train people, but I could give him some guidance if he joined the agency. The rest is pretty self-explanatory.” Oda gestured at Akutagawa, who nodded back and said, “I am very fortunate. I’ve never met someone as talented as Oda.” Meanwhile, Akutagawa swung another blade of fabric at Oda, who smoothly parried it with his spoon. “No…no, no, no…” Kunikida shook his head. “While Oda’s skill is extremely powerful…what kind of person tries to attack someone in the middle of a restaurant?! Enough! Go to a dojo if you want to train!” “I wouldn’t be going through all this trouble if my enemy was at a dojo,” griped Akutagawa with a piercing glare. “I could be walking down the road when I encounter them, or inside a restaurant, or even inside a train. I need to be prepared to fight regardless of the location, or this will all have been for naught.” “Your ‘enemy’?” “There are apparently two people he wants to kill,” Oda said while looking at Akutagawa. “That’s why he’s been honing his skill so much.” “One of them is a man—I have no idea who he is, nor what he looks like,” added Akutagawa. “I simply call him the ‘man in black.’ He kidnapped my younger sister, so I plan on killing him and saving her.” “Your younger sister?” Tanizaki’s eyes opened wide as he stared at Akutagawa. “Oh… No wonder you were so angry earlier when we were talking about my sister.” Naomi looked at Akutagawa and asked, “Do you have any idea where she might be? Any leads?” “Not the slightest. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.” A faint light wavered in Akutagawa’s normally expressionless eyes. “But I will find her.” “So that’s why you wanted to join the agency.” Kunikida crossed his arms. “It makes sense. You can browse the city police’s records on missing people at the agency, and you can easily get your hands on information about various underground organizations. However…” Tanizaki took over for Kunikida with a troubled expression. “It’s not going to be easy finding someone in a big city like this.” “Giggle… It appears you’re all forgetting something,” Naomi mirthfully suggested as her lips curled into a grin. “Akutagawa, you made a wise choice joining the agency. And that’s because there isn’t an organization in the world better suited to finding your missing little sister.” Naomi looked at everyone in an amused manner, then began speaking in a hushed voice as if she was telling a secret. “Wouldn’t you all agree? You all know as well as I do that he should be able to find Akutagawa’s sister.” “Oh, yeah.” “True…” “You’re right.” Everyone nodded in agreement. “Akutagawa, you’re going to be reunited with your sister in no time.” Naomi stood up with a smile. “Anyway, shall we go? I’m about to introduce you to the greatest detective in the world!” Port Mafia headquarters: a black building that towered over Yokohama’s ritziest neighborhood. The outside looked like any ordinary, well-kept, newly built high-rise, but the inside was an impregnable fortress. The windows were bulletproof and explosion proof while the exterior was made specially to withstand even the impact from a tank. It had the defensive capabilities of a military stronghold. Atsushi made his way through the building, passing by several of his silent, armed colleagues. He walked across a fancy high-pile rug fit for a throne room before eventually reaching the end of the hallway, where he stopped before a sturdy double door. “Boss, it’s me. Atsushi. I have arrived as requested.” A few seconds passed. “Come in,” demanded a voice. “Yes, sir.” There was a unique ambience to the boss’s sizable office space. Every high-end oddity in here was one of a kind, from the candlesticks to the desk in the center of the office. And yet at the same time, each decoration seemed somehow out of place, as if they’d wandered into this room by mistake. The presence of death filled the space. The floor and ceiling were black. All four walls were black. One of the walls was made of special glass that could turn into a window with a view of the Yokohama skyline, but it hadn’t been used for the past four years. All this was done to protect the current Mafia boss, Dazai, from sniper and artillery fire. “Lower your head, captain,” snapped an executive standing in the back of the room. “You’re in the presence of the boss.” Atsushi immediately dropped to one knee and deeply bowed his head. “My sincerest apologies.” There were two men in the room. One was a Port Mafia executive and envoy standing at attention in the back. He wore a black suit and hat. Despite his youthful appearance, he was the second-highest-ranking executive in the organization and the strongest skill user in the Mafia. The other man—the owner of the room—was seated on a black throne in the center. He spoke into his handheld transceiver: “It’s fine, Chuuya. Good work, Atsushi. I’m glad you made it back safely.” His voice was both majestic like a king’s and cruel like a demon’s. Osamu Dazai—the boss of colossal underground organization Port Mafia. Even European royalty would covet his black overcoat and shoes, which were of the highest quality. “Th-thank you…very much, Dazai,” Atsushi nervously stammered with his head still lowered. Chuuya’s deep voice immediately chimed in: “Scuse me, errand boy? You got a death wish? You address him as ‘boss.’” “Come on, Chuuya. It’s fine,” Dazai assured him while crossing his legs. “Anyway, I want to talk with him alone, so go wait outside.” “The hell?! Why?!” shouted Chuuya with a crudeness that wasn’t present only moments ago. “What’s gotten into you? He ain’t an executive or your secretary. The kid’s just an ordinary grunt. Hell, the fact that he’s even getting to see you makes this a special case as is.” “What makes you say that? I trust Atsushi.” “Trust don’t mean shit. What if he’s being controlled by someone’s skill or if someone planted a bomb on him? Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened, so there’s no way I’m leavin’ you alone in here with him. I won’t allow it.” Dazai smiled and looked at Chuuya. “You won’t ‘allow it’? I’m not asking for permission, Chuuya. You’re an executive, and I’m the boss. And in the Mafia, orders must be followed at all costs. We must respect the chain of command.” Chuuya remained silent with a look of clear discontent for a few moments before eventually storming off. “Yeah, right. Do whatever you want,” he muttered as he strode past Atsushi. But after walking past him, he briefly stopped. “Don’t even think about killing him, flunky…’cause I’m gonna be the one who kills him someday,” hissed Chuuya without even looking back at Atsushi. He then wildly threw the door open and marched out. “Good grief… He hates me so much that he wants me dead, yet he has to protect me since I’m the boss. Seeing Chuuya struggle with both extremes is fun and all, but…I think he goes a little overboard sometimes.” Dazai wryly smirked, then faced Atsushi once more. “Make yourself comfortable, Atsushi.” Atsushi stood, then wrapped his arms behind his back. “Anyway, I heard about the mission. You annihilated the entire platoon with the exception of one soldier, yes?” “Yes, sir.” “The enemy platoon you defeated was a group of mercenaries hired by a foreign military clique in the settlement, but I’m sure there’s a certain cabinet minister actually pulling the strings behind the scenes,” commented Dazai in a gentle voice while he recrossed his long legs. “We spent the past four years practically barring them from the nearby coasts. Must’ve caused them quite the headache—hence why they tried to kill me. Unfortunately for that minister, however, the attack ended in failure. I’m sure he has no end of headaches now,” joked Dazai before narrowing his eyes in glee. Four years had gone by since Dazai took over for the previous boss, and ever since then, Port Mafia’s authority had expanded rapidly and exponentially. The courts, distribution, banks, urban development—there wasn’t a single institution within not only Yokohama but also the entire Kanto region that wasn’t influenced by the Port Mafia in some way. The Mafia’s armed forces had grown to rival even those of the government. Each one of these great achievements came to fruition only because of the new boss Dazai’s extraordinary talents. Rumor had it he hadn’t even slept a day ever since taking over from Mori four years ago. “Now…let me explain your next mission. Phase two of the plan ended with Akutagawa joining a Yokohama detective agency, so it’s time to prepare for phase three.” “‘Detective agency’? ‘Phase three’?” Atsushi curiously tilted his head to the side. “What are you talking about?” “This is big, Atsushi. So big it’ll make your head spin.” Dazai smiled. “And your work is essential to realizing this plan. I’m counting on you, Atsushi—you’re the Port Mafia’s White Reaper, a fearless assassin who slaughters his foes without even batting an eye.” Atsushi carefully listened to those ominous words as they resonated throughout the room before being absorbed and disappearing into the walls and floor. He then said, “I’m not fearless.” His voice was quiet and barren, like the bleached bones of the deceased on a battlefield after war. “I’m a coward. I’m terrified of bleeding or being shot.” “But according to the report, you annihilated seasoned soldiers without showing an ounce of emotion.” “Yes… As scary as fighting is, I never sweat or even shake during battle. Just like a calm lake, I don’t even react to what’s happening…and it’s been that way ever since that day.” Dazai squinted his eyes sharply. “Ever since ‘that day,’ huh?” he said. “You mean the day you ignored my orders?” All emotion began fading from Atsushi’s expression. His already stolid visage withered until there was no discernible expression left. “I…” His voice trembled. “I—That—What happened that day…” Atsushi bent over and wrapped his arms around himself. His fingers were uncontrollably trembling as they dug into his joints so tightly that they turned white. He was shaking out of fear. His soul was crying out over something even deeper than death—true terror. “No, I… I—” “I agree that you’re timid by nature. You always used to search for an escape route even when face-to-face with an enemy. You were a scared little boy. But that day changed you. Do you know why?” Atsushi was still trembling. Cold sweat rapidly dripped down the back of his neck. “The only way to overcome fear is through fear itself. And ever since that day, you’ve been in constant terror, never allowing yourself so much as a moment to rest…which has thus robbed you of your ability to fear anything else. Never will guns, knives, or an enemy’s bloodlust ever reach the depths of your heart—because a truly monstrous fear already lies within.” Dazai stared icily at Atsushi, but Atsushi wasn’t listening. His legs were trembling as cold sweat poured off his body. He seemed to be on the verge of passing out at any moment. “So you’re still unable to escape that particular fear, huh? …The one born from his death.” “N-no, I—I’m not a-afraid of…” Atsushi curled up into a ball on the floor, unable to keep his entire body from trembling any longer. “Please…give me orders…Dazai,” Atsushi somehow managed to stammer despite his chattering teeth. “Right now. I’ll never…go against orders…again. Never… Never again…” “I’ll take your word for it,” claimed Dazai as he coldly looked down at Atsushi. “My secretary will give you the necessary documentation. You’ll find the details of your mission inside.” A female secretary suddenly appeared from the back door without even making a sound. She was a quiet girl around the same age as Atsushi. She wore a black suit that fit like a second skin and had long black hair tied into a ponytail. Although she was simply standing in place, it was as if her eyes were absorbing all the sound around her. “Gin, dear, hand me the map and letter.” “Yes, sir.” The secretary Gin handed Dazai a black envelope. Dazai then faced Atsushi and said: “Atsushi, your next target is…the Armed Detective Agency.” The Armed Detective Agency’s headquarters was a mess. Office supplies cluttered the spacious fourth floor of the multi-tenant building where the clerks briskly worked away at their desks. The agency staff were mainly split into two groups: clerks and detectives. The former were in charge of accounting, handling documents, communicating and negotiating with clients, and information processing. The detectives were the ones actually involved in the investigations, from rushing to the scene of the incident to solving cases. Due to the nature of their work, every detective possessed some sort of unique skill. …That is, everyone but him. “A missing person? No thanks. I’d rather not,” grumbled Ranpo Edogawa. He had his feet kicked up on the desk and was licking a lollipop. “Ranpo, please… Could you make an exception?” Surrounding Ranpo with peeved expressions on their faces were the same five people who were just at the café together: Tanizaki, Oda, Kunikida, Akutagawa, and Naomi. “The new guy Akutagawa was separated from his little sister,” said Tanizaki in an attempt to mediate. “We can’t just sit back and do nothing if something terrible’s happened to her… She was apparently kidnapped by a man in black.” Ranpo’s eyebrow twitched. He continued staring at the ceiling but shifted his gaze to his right, then to the left, then back to his right before asking, “Got a name? What’s the guy look like?” “I don’t know,” replied Akutagawa. “But I would recognize his voice anywhere.” “Sigh…” Ranpo leaned his head back and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Why’s the world gotta be filled only with fools, ignoramuses, and screwups?” “What?” Akutagawa narrowed his eyes sharply. “Are you implying that I’m one of those?” “Hey, now. Come on,” pleaded Tanizaki in a fluster as he tried to calm him down. “Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once,” began Ranpo as he straightened up. “I may be the greatest detective in the world, but I don’t investigate cases I’m not interested in. In other words, this is your problem.” “There’s no need for an investigation,” argued Akutagawa with a pale expression. “I will find my sister—I will find Gin on my own.” After heaving another sigh, Ranpo whipped out a piece of paper from his pocket and slid it across the desk. Akutagawa glanced at it, then fixed his eyes on Ranpo once more. “What’s this?” “It’s an OK Card,” said Ranpo. “…A what?” Twirling the lollipop in his mouth, Ranpo insouciantly replied, “I happened to hear about your motive for joining the agency beforehand, so I knew you would come to see me sooner or later. So I did some prior research and have a rough idea where she is… Your sister’s alive.” “What?!” Akutagawa suddenly leaned forward. “Where is she?! Where is Gin?!” “That’s where the card comes in.” Akutagawa looked down at the card once more. It was a palm-sized, rectangular white sheet of paper separated into six boxes. “You need to explain the situation to each detective in the agency and get them to stamp that card. Once you get everyone’s OK stamp, we’ll help you find your sister. By the way, the president already stamped it.” In one of the six boxes was a fresh stamp with the letters OK. The other five spaces, however, were still blank. “The stamp’s requirements are written on the back of the OK Card. For the most part, you’ll need to satisfy a condition or do something for someone to get them to stamp that card. What exactly you’ll be required to do…is largely left to the discretion of each detective,” admitted Ranpo as he took out a wooden stamp and rolled it across the desk. “In other words, I need everyone’s permission to learn the whereabouts of my sister,” said Akutagawa as he appeared to be deep in thought. “But why has the president already given me his stamp?” “’Cause I’m an amazing detective,” argued Ranpo as he licked his lollipop. “Besides, it was actually the president’s idea to make that card in the first place. When I spoke to him about your situation, he told me to see that everyone welcomes and accepts the newcomer. And, well, I can’t say no to the boss.” Akutagawa stared pensively at the card for a few moments, until all of a sudden, he grabbed it, his mind made up. “Four and a half years. I have been searching for my sister for four and a half years. Ever since then I’ve been torn in half, bleeding imperceptibly from my severed body… Getting a few stamps on a piece of paper is nothing.” “Just what I wanted to hear.” Ranpo smirked. “Good luck, new guy. But, well…” Ranpo paused, and his expression grew serious. Then, almost prophetically, he said: “…the real suffering’s gonna start after you get everyone’s stamps.” It took around four straight weeks for Akutagawa to collect every stamp. The first to comply was Tanizaki. He didn’t require anything in return. After hearing about the card, he immediately stamped it right in front of Ranpo. “If I were in your position…” Tanizaki grinned as he spoke. “If Naomi were ever kidnapped, I probably wouldn’t be able to wait until I got all the stamps. I bet I’d try to beat it out of Ranpo if he knew where she was, so I really respect you, Akutagawa. That’s why I don’t need anything else in return.” Akutagawa calmly watched as Tanizaki bashfully stamped the card. He then glanced down at it before looking back up at Tanizaki. “Thank you,” he said. “Can I offer you some advice, though?” Tanizaki’s eyes were completely serious as he handed Akutagawa the card. “When you do find your sister…don’t hold back if the man in black tries to get in your way. Forget about your duties as a detective and what’s socially acceptable. And if you end up killing him, remember that it’s not your fault. No justice or morals are more important than your sister.” “Hey, now,” Kunikida interjected with a frown, but he didn’t say anything else after that. After accepting the card, Akutagawa replied, “Understood. If I manage to safely rescue my sister, you will be the first person I notify, Tanizaki.” The next person to stamp the card was the youngest detective in the agency: Kenji Miyazawa. “I don’t mind stamping the card right now, but…,” Kenji began in his cheerful, boyish voice. “Ranpo said to come up with some sort of requirement first…and there is a small task I need help with… Ms. Maeda mentioned she has some simple farmwork she wants done. Do you think you could help me? And you don’t need to worry if it’s your first time because I can teach you! It’s all really simple. Anyone can do it!” The task was rice planting. Akutagawa’s expression as he stared at vast fields of rice paddies would become the stuff of legend at the detective agency. It would be the first and last time Akutagawa, who was typically expressionless, appeared utterly lost. “Now let’s get started!” Kenji cheerfully suggested. He was in his workwear and long boots. “Don’t worry! If we wake up early and work until the agency opens…we should be done by next week or the week after that!” It wasn’t a mere one or two rice paddies. In the valley surrounded by mountains were beautiful paddy fields as far as the eye could see. Are two weeks even enough? Akutagawa’s lips mouthed those words, but he did not speak—or perhaps couldn’t. “Hey, uh…? Are you sure you want to help?” Kenji apologetically asked. “I know you’re probably in a hurry, so…do you want to do something else instead?” Akutagawa sternly glared at the rice fields for a few moments until eventually saying, “I was the one who said I would work in exchange for your stamp. Besides, where I come from, those who didn’t treat food with respect were the first to perish… I can do this.” He then faced the fields and took a step forward. “Ack! You can’t work dressed like that,” Kenji said with a laugh. “You should definitely change into the work wear and long boots I got you. Oh, and this straw hat, too! You’re gonna look great! I promise!” “…” The first day, Akutagawa simply learned the process from Kenji and prepared for the tasks ahead. The second day, he hurt his lower back doing work he wasn’t used to. He rested on the third and fourth day. On the fifth day, he learned how to transplant rice seedlings with his skill, so his efficiency increased exponentially. Kenji mirthfully clapped his hands together and praised him. Akutagawa spent his days testing his skill’s speed against a borrowed rice transplant machine, keeping watch to make sure there was no flooding on rainy days, and eating the rice balls the fields’ owner made for him. He quietly worked away without showing so much as a hint of displeasure. “This takes me back to when I grew potatoes behind my place in the slums,” noted Akutagawa while he gazed at the fields. He ran into trouble on the tenth day, though. When he headed to the fields that day, more than half the rice they planted had turned black and died. After examining the rice for some time, Kenji mentioned that the service water was most likely the cause. When they headed over to the main irrigation canal to check, they discovered factory waste that had been illegally dumped upstream and had leaked harmful soluble organic substances into the water. The detective agency almost immediately uncovered who was behind this criminal activity after thoroughly investigating the containers the waste was in. It was a drug manufacturer with a large-scale factory. Around half the fields were ruined now. Unfortunately, the only paddies affected were the ones Kenji and Akutagawa had already worked on. “Well, there’s no use crying over spilled milk. At least we can still finish the paddies that haven’t been ruined yet,” said Kenji. Akutagawa wasn’t having it, though. The next day, he marched right into the drug manufacturer’s factory alone, choking the guards unconscious with his skill as he headed for the office floor. It was clear who planned the illegal dump the moment he checked the management chart, but he wanted to figure out who gave the orders, so he planned on beating that information out of the employee responsible. Akutagawa had every intention of doing this until he figured out who was truly pulling the strings behind the scenes. But right as Akutagawa was about to open the door to the office and go inside, someone called out to him from behind and stopped him. Standing there were Kenji, Tanizaki, and Oda. “Let’s go home,” suggested Kenji. “This is nothing, really,” Kenji assured Akutagawa as they walked back home. “Natural disasters are far more brutal and unfair: flooding, cold-weather damage, drought, pests. Sometimes, you spend years working on something, only for it to be wiped out in a single night. But half the crops survived this time. Plus, the agency will be able to sue the criminal for damages once we prove who was behind the illegal dumping. It’s not like we can get any compensation from the sun or insects, so we should consider ourselves lucky.” “It still doesn’t sit well with me.” Akutagawa fixed Kenji with a piercing gaze. “Compensation? So you’re permitted to do evil as long as you pay for it? That means the rich can do anything they want. Perhaps there’s only one thing in this world that can deter acts of evil: retaliation. Display your enemy’s head by the roadside for all to see. Punish and instill fear into your foes. There is no other way to protect yourself…and there never was.” “Yeah, I’m sorry. You’re probably right,” replied Kenji after pondering for a brief moment. Neither of them spoke for a while after that. They continued walking in silence until eventually, they found themselves back at the rice-field paddies. The reddish-orange evening sun glittered off the water filling each paddy as the shadow of night slowly crept over the mountains’ ridges. “Night will fall, and morning will break,” began Kenji while gazing at the paddies. “Spring will come, then autumn. Everything happens in halves: Plants grow; then they wither away. Animals produce offspring, then perish…becoming the soil that we live on. I’ve gradually learned over time that nature works in halves like that. When something awful happens—like a storm or mudslide—it sometimes feels like the bad stuff is never going to end. But nature is both the good and the bad… That’s what it means to live. At least, that’s how we view things in my village.” “It doesn’t make sense to me,” admitted Akutagawa as he gazed at the same scenery. “Blessings and misfortune are divided equally in halves? Tell that to my friends who died in the slums.” “You’re the other half, Akutagawa.” Kenji looked at him. “You survived, and you developed an incredible skill. Everyone passed the good half on to you. That’s why…” Kenji paused and smiled as the evening sun glowed in his eyes. “That’s why I just know you’ll get your sister back. A lot of good things are waiting for you now. That’s what nature’s all about.” Akutagawa stared at Kenji for a few moments as if he was scrutinizing those words before eventually turning his gaze at the setting sun. “I see,” Akutagawa replied in a hushed tone. “My friends who perished gave me their half.” The ridges of the mountaintops were slowly swallowed by the violet night. Nobody said another word. It took both of them four days to finish the rest of the rice planting. Kunikida paid them a visit on the last day to see how things were going, but when he arrived, he found them chatting while covered in mud. “If you ever want to check whether the crops are doing well, then that’s the bug you want to eat! These little guys taste great boiled if your field’s healthy.” “Interesting. When I was struggling to find food, I used to dig up insects and eat them. The mountains in the untouched countryside always had far tastier larvae than any man-made forest or farmland.” “Let me treat you to some salt-grilled ones next time you’re free!” “I look forward to it.” As he watched their exchange, Kunikida muttered in blank amazement, “They’re…getting along…” Akutagawa received Kenji’s stamp after they finished transplanting the rest of the rice. “The owner’s going to give us a whopping ten percent of the rice when it’s ready, so I hope you’re looking forward to gaining some weight,” Kenji joked in the agency’s hallway with a smile. “It appears I won’t need to worry about starving for quite some time,” replied Akutagawa. Kunikida happened to be passing by just then, so Akutagawa asked him how the investigation on the illegal dumping was going. “We’re on the verge of solving it,” replied Kunikida. He then quietly stared at Akutagawa for a few moments and asked, “Did…you get a tan?”
Chapter 78
29 min read