“It really is lively, huh?” Komatsu remarked. “And the atmosphere is different from Shanghai. By the way, how safe is Hong Kong these days?”
“I’d say it’s fine. It’s not as safe as Japan, though, so be careful. I have a bit of a bad feeling right now.”
“A bad feeling?”
“It feels like we’re being watched. Oh, make sure you wear your sling bag across your body instead of letting it hang off your shoulder.”
“Got it.”
Suddenly, someone walking behind them stepped on the heel of Komatsu’s shoe. Komatsu slipped and fell behind Kiyotaka, giving the person an opportunity to reach out and grab his sling. Before Komatsu could even say anything, the thief was gone.
“Whoa! My bag!” The detective looked around in a panic.
“Just as I was warning you...” Kiyotaka immediately rushed after the bag snatcher.
“Kiddo!” Komatsu gave chase.
The bag snatcher weaved through the crowd as he ran. He was surprisingly fast, but so was Kiyotaka, who quickly gained on him. Komatsu was also running with all his might.
The thief glanced back before entering an alley. Kiyotaka followed him, as did Komatsu several seconds later. The alley was barely wide enough for two adult men to walk side by side and dimly lit even in the middle of the day. The sides were lined with air conditioning units, cardboard boxes, trash bins, and oil cans.
Spotting Kiyotaka, Komatsu walked up to him, relieved. “Kid—”
He was interrupted by the sight of two other young men accompanying the thief. All three were grinning in Kiyotaka’s direction.
“Forget the bag, kiddo. We gotta get out of here!” His phone, wallet, and passport were in the bag, along with cigarettes and a lighter. But at this point, they had no choice but to give up. Kiyotaka was strong, but this wasn’t Japan. It wasn’t worth dying over.
The moment Komatsu shouted that, the men lunged at Kiyotaka. Komatsu squealed and stepped back. His legs nearly gave out, but this wasn’t the time for that.
When faced with a shocking situation, one sometimes experiences a strange phenomenon where time appears to slow down. This was one such case. Komatsu watched as one of the reinforcements swung his fist at Kiyotaka, only for Kiyotaka to bend back, place one hand on the ground, and kick him in the abdomen with his left foot.
The second man clicked his tongue and pulled out a knife. Kiyotaka quickly grabbed his right hand, twisted it behind him, and slammed him onto the ground. The man screamed in pain.
The thief, realizing he was in danger, decided to abandon his friends. But as he turned to run away, Kiyotaka swiftly grabbed him by the arm and delivered a powerful one-arm shoulder throw. He held the thief’s head down and retrieved the bag.
“You did it, kiddo!” Before he realized it, Komatsu was clenching both fists. That’s Kiyotaka for you.
Still pinning the man down, Kiyotaka asked coldly in English, “You were watching us ever since we left the museum, weren’t you? Who told you to do that?”
The man gritted his teeth and said nothing.
Kiyotaka turned to the detective and asked, “Komatsu, could you get that large can for me?”
“Oh, this?” Wondering what it would be used for, Komatsu grabbed the can and put it down next to the young appraiser.
Kiyotaka opened the can, poured oil all over the thief’s head, and took Komatsu’s Zippo out of his bag.
“Wh-What’re you doing, kiddo?!”
“You be quiet!” Kiyotaka shouted angrily.
Komatsu flinched. The oil was seeping into the asphalt. The thief’s face turned pale as a ghost.
“You don’t want to go up in flames, do you?” Kiyotaka continued in English. “Who told you to do this, and what were their orders?” He lit the lighter and held it up to the man’s face.
“Eek! It was my part-time job!” the man shrieked.
“Your part-time job?”
“I don’t know who the client was! They just showed me your picture and said to attack you. They said I’d get paid a lot for it. I really don’t know anything. Have mercy!”
“Is that so?” Kiyotaka dropped the lit lighter onto the pooling oil on the ground.
“Don’t do it, kiddo!” Komatsu shouted, but it was too late. The lighter hit the asphalt.
The thief screamed and frantically pushed Kiyotaka off him before running out of the alley with his wounded companions.
Komatsu wanted to cover his eyes, but before he could, he realized there was no blazing fire to be seen. “Huh?” He blinked and looked down at the lighter. It had fallen into the oil, but the flame had been extinguished.
“Good grief,” said Kiyotaka. “Komatsu, this isn’t gasoline or kerosene. It’s cooking oil.” He pointed at the label on the can. Needless to say, holding a flame near cooking oil for a few seconds wasn’t enough to make it catch fire.
“Huh? Really?”
“Yes. I was just teaching them a lesson.”
Despite his words, Kiyotaka’s aura had been nothing short of demonic.
“I apologize for getting oil all over your lighter, though,” he added, picking the Zippo up with two fingers and wrapping it in a handkerchief.
“It’s fine,” said Komatsu, taking his bag and lighter. “You got my things back for me, after all. Thanks.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It seems he only stole your bag to lure me here in the first place.”
“Which means...someone’s targeting you.”
“Indeed.”
“Who could it be?”
“I can only think of one person who would do this to me.” Kiyotaka stood up, sighed, and looked into the distance.
Komatsu had the same individual in mind, but he didn’t name him aloud.
“I’m afraid this leaves me no choice.”
“Huh?”
“I’m going to join the bidding.”
“What?” Komatsu’s eyes widened.