Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 3 Chapter 1 Part 4

Chapter 1 Part 4

The room was silent as everyone ate their meat buns. At this rate, the trial meeting was never going to end. Everyone started to come to the faint realization that conferences and debates just weren’t their strong suits. They needed to find some common ground.
Written in black on the conference room whiteboard were eight ideas: “Handle a case,” “Solve an in-house issue,” “Hideyoshi Toyotomi,” “Tear off eight fingers,” “Hazing,” “Crush Dazai,” “****ing,” and “These meat buns are delicious.”
Tanizaki’s internal battery was starting to die. While somewhat obvious that this would prove to be a tricky meeting, no one was expecting that agreeing on a single idea would be such a great challenge, nor did they anticipate the process of finding common ground to be so mundane. Building a sandcastle would have been a more constructive use of their time.
Tanizaki and Kunikida exchanged looks. They predicted this would happen. Their meeting earlier at the café was actually to plan for a situation like this. A meeting-response meeting. They considered what to do when meetings like this were going nowhere, and they specifically made sure to keep it a secret from Dazai. Kunikida seized this opportunity to speak up

just as he’d planned earlier at the café.
“Dazai, how about narrowing down our choices? We have been stuck on step one for too long already. If we don’t decide on something now, we’ll be here all night. I’m not saying we have to choose one of the ideas on the board, but at least give us some basic direction.”
“Huh? But arguing over such trifles together is fun. Let’s keep this going all night!”
“Whether you’re enjoying yourself or not is beside the point. We came here today for a reason,” Kunikida said, sternly furrowing his brow. “Plus, we’ve got minors here, too. Hurry it up. All that’s left for us to do is decide on an idea and delegate roles, right?”
“But we’re still missing someone.” Dazai scratched his head. “Ranpo’s not here, and we need everyone present before we can decide on the test. I wonder what he’s doing this late at night? Maybe he’s working on a tough case, and it’s taking longer than he thought…”
“Oh!” Naomi placed a hand on her cheek. “Actually, Ranpo’s in the office right now.”
“Huh?”
“I saw him when I was walking by a few moments ago. He was wrapped up in one of those puzzles that comes with the candy boxes.”
“That’s Ranpo for ya. Nothing fazes him.” Dazai proceeded to compliment Ranpo for whatever reason.
Ranpo Edogawa, twenty-six years old, was the Armed Detective Agency’s top detective and the brains of the operation. He possessed outstanding powers of observation and deduction for someone so ingenuous and simple in nature. Even then, he was impossible to figure out, and he yielded to no one. Ranpo was only willing to go out on a case so long as he alone solved it. Although he didn’t mean any harm, he would tell anyone they were stupid even if it was their first time meeting, and he never hesitated to give someone a pat on the head—victim, perpetrator, you name it. And there wasn’t a single case he couldn’t solve. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was the center pillar of the agency.
“I’ll go get him,” Naomi said before trotting out of the conference room. After watching her leave, Dazai said, “Everything should be okay now. There is nothing he can’t solve.”
“I agree, but is this really something worth bothering him over?”

Kunikida asked reluctantly. “His brain should only be used for solving cases. There are plenty of difficult cases he could be cracking instead of spending his time on something as trivial as this.”
There wasn’t a single soul in the neighborhood who didn’t know Ranpo’s skill. Even the big shots from government organizations like the city police would beg him for help.

Skill User: Ranpo Edogawa Skill: Super Deduction

While most skills were supernatural events that bent the laws of physics, Ranpo’s stood out as extraordinary even among the best detectives—the ability to see the truth.
No matter the case or event, he could see the truth after nothing more than a single glance. His skill almost seemed like cheating, even. The existence of such an ability would render any and all investigative organizations utterly meaningless. And yet, Ranpo possessed such a skill and used it to solve mysteries. The truth never escaped his discerning eye.
And that was precisely why no one could oppose him, which consequently made Ranpo even more arrogant. It allowed him to solve cases however he liked, even if that meant dragging other relevant parties down with it. After he departed the scene of a crime, he always left everyone involved mentally exhausted, despite having solved the case. No one could control the infallible genius…except for the president, whom Ranpo still earnestly listened to for some reason. He would get depressed if the boss got mad at him, and it brought him so much joy when he was praised. Nobody knew exactly why he was so obedient, but according to the other agents, “Well, you know how the president is. Guess it’s no real surprise.”
Tmp. Tmp. Tmp. Ranpo walked up to the conference room door with force in his step.
“Hey, folks! I see everyone’s racking their brain over another pointless meeting,” Ranpo quipped with a grin. “Sigh. What would you guys do without me?”
“We’ve been waiting for you, Ranpo,” said Dazai, smiling back. “We’re having a meeting about the entrance exam I mentioned to you earlier. Got any ideas?”
“I hate using my head for boring stuff,” Ranpo complained. “And anyway, I honestly couldn’t care less if this newcomer’s got what it takes. There are two kinds of people in the world: those who cry tears of joy when I solve a case, and those who cry out of frustration!”
“You raise a fine point.” Dazai nodded in agreement.
“But of course, my skill always leads me to the truth, be it a murder or even something as trivial as this. Besides, I’ll be away on a business trip tomorrow, so I won’t be able to take part in the test anyway. There was a string of killings in the Hokuriku region that I’ve been dying to investigate. But as a parting gift, I suppose I wouldn’t be against using my Super Deduction to predict the course of this meeting, if you wanted.”
Ranpo produced a pair of black-framed glasses from his pocket—old spectacles that triggered his skill, Super Deduction, whenever he put them on. Not a soul knew where he got them, but according to Ranpo, they had a long and distinguished history of working miracles. They looked like nothing more than a pair of worn-out spectacles to any ordinary person, though.
“Are you sure, Ranpo?” Kunikida asked, slightly flustered. After all, Ranpo never used his skill for anything unrelated to a case.
“Of course—”
Ranpo abruptly paused and took in a deep breath. “—not. Did you really think I’d do that?”
The group nodded in unison. You’re not wrong there.
“You guys are out here busting every little brain cell you’ve got; it’d be a darn shame if I just solved the problem for you in a snap. Besides, you all ate meat buns without me, and that is unacceptable!” He pointed at the empty plates lined up on the table.
“Huh? But I thought you were stuffing your face with sweets at your desk…” Tanizaki sounded perplexed.
“Okay, sure, obviously I prefer candy and sweet buns, and I also like ordinary stuff like hamburgers and omurice, too! But it’s nighttime, see, and there’s nothing that grinds my gears more than smelling meat buns in the middle of the night and knowing there aren’t any around for me to eat!”
“Let me ask Naomi if there are any left.”
Tanizaki hurriedly got to his feet, then trotted past Ranpo and opened the door to the conference room. But as he was passing by, Ranpo quietly stared at him with strangely vacant eyes. After that, he faced forward once more before turning his gaze toward a stack of old newspapers in the corner of the room.
“Tanizaki,” Ranpo called out. “Yes?”
Tanizaki turned around, but Ranpo didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he gently shook his head before at last saying, “Well, good luck.”
Tanizaki talked to Naomi in the kitchenette and asked her to look for any leftover meat buns. On his way back to the conference room, he ran into Kunikida.
“Kunikida, how did things turn out?” Tanizaki asked.
“Dazai is handling the meeting. I told him I had some business to take care of and left.” Kunikida looked about to make sure there was nobody around before continuing. “More importantly, Tanizaki, how are things coming along with you-know-what?”
“Everything is ready to go.”
Tanizaki nodded, then held up the schoolbag he’d received from Naomi just now when they were chatting in the kitchenette. She’d also taken that as an opportunity to try to force herself on Tanizaki, but he managed to escape. Inside the bag was a large brown envelope.
“Tanizaki—you know what to do.”
“I do.” He nodded. “Everything so far has gone just as you predicted, Kunikida.”
“I haven’t been partners with Dazai this long for nothing.” Kunikida’s face twisted in utter and genuine revulsion. “My instincts let me know when he’s scheming something. My vision was flickering so much during the meeting that I almost fainted. I won’t let him have his way, though. It’s time for him to pay for his self-indulgence.”
Tanizaki nodded, then headed back to the conference room alone so that nobody would suspect anything.

By the time Tanizaki returned, Ranpo was already gone. He’d left to search for meat buns of his own, only half-heartedly wishing everyone good luck before his departure. Not that a mere “Hey, we’ve got a meeting” was enough to grab the attention of anyone in the agency, of course. The rest of the participants exchanged dumbfounded glances, then turned their attention to the whiteboard with expressions that said, “Eh, that was a reasonable time to leave.”
“Solve an in-house issue”—the proposal Tanizaki came up with.
Settling on one of the earlier extremely generic proposals at the end of a noisy, heated meeting wasn’t a rare occurrence, be it at a detective agency or some other company. Nonetheless, that didn’t mean the meeting was over. There were countless in-house issues that needed fixing. Big things, little things—risky problems, tame problems. For the entrance exam, however, they had to choose only the most suitable task.
“The elevator’s been acting up lately.” “Let’s contact the management company.”
“The operating room’s running out of supplies.” “I’ll put in an order at the usual pharmacy!”
“The office staff said they want takeout for lunch…” “What, you want the rookie to open a soba shop?”
Nobody could think of anything worthy. Kunikida returned to the conference room a few minutes after Tanizaki and joined the group in fishing for ideas. However, with all the highly qualified agents at the agency, every suitable issue was nipped in the bud early on. All that was left were tedious, pointless chores such as cleaning, repairs, and complaints about the food.
“Feels like we’re right back where we started,” Yosano muttered discontentedly. “Aren’t there any bigger problems that need solving around here?”
“Well, the president is still single…,” offered Tanizaki. “Not that big!”
Everyone desperately brainstormed for an idea while exchanging glances, and before long, they arrived at a conclusion: “If there aren’t any,

then we’ll just have to make one ourselves.”
A fake case to solve—in other words, a ruse.
Someone would create a fake problem, and the rookie, who happened to be there, would be asked to solve this problem to test his capabilities. The mood in the room made it clear that was the only option; everyone was getting sick of thinking about it. However, there was one person brave enough to object.
“Wait.” Kunikida spoke up. “A ruse is all well and good, but there’s a fundamental problem with this idea: Dazai.”
He looked at Dazai, who cheerfully pointed at himself. “Me?”
“Yes, you. With this plan, we probably wouldn’t be bothering anyone outside the company. Someone could simply cause a commotion and create the problem. This part of the plan is fine. However…”
“‘However’…?”
“I want everyone to think back to what got us here in the first place.” Kunikida stood from his chair, put both hands on the desk, and leaned forward. “The person who got us into this mess and invited the newcomer to join our agency was none other than Dazai. Even though said newcomer was a designated threat, Dazai didn’t think to capture him or take him into custody. Rocks-for-Brains here only came up with the terrifying idea of letting him join the agency of all things because the idea just randomly popped into his head.”
“Oh, stop. You’re embarrassing me.” Dazai smiled and scratched his head.
“That’s not a compliment. At any rate, I am not advising anyone to reconsider. The president’s already given it the green light. However, I know Dazai’s nature more than I ever wanted to, and it is painfully obvious to me what he’s doing.”
Kunikida paused, then looked around the room before continuing.
“‘I’m determined to see this through, and I’ll push all the hard work onto someone else.’ Surely this is what you thought to yourself. Right, Dazai?”
Dazai gleefully smirked and nodded. “Looks like the cat’s out of the bag now. I’m impressed, Kunikida.”
“Your praise means nothing to me. In any event, I have been burned far too often because of how he does things. Forcing responsibility onto others,

shifting it onto others, avoiding it—he flatters people just to kick the ladder out from under them. Whenever I vow to never be tricked by him again, I find myself somehow walking down the path he laid out for me. Thanks to that, I’ve been through so much over the past two years we’ve been partners: I’ve cleaned out drains in the freezing cold, fallen into the women’s fitting room at a department store, and even been forced to drink so much that I woke up in someone else’s bedroom without any memories of the night before.”
“You two have really done some interesting things together,” said Yosano in shock.
“You’re a strong person, Kunikida!” Kenji praised Kunikida, completely missing the point.
“Therefore, I’m convinced Dazai has come up with some sort of scheme so that he’s the only one who doesn’t have to do any of the hard work. He’s shrewd—I’ll give him that. What I’m trying to say is…Dazai, you’re planning on getting someone else to do the entrance exam while you’re doing nothing! Admit it!”
“Wow, Kunikida. You really like playing the victim, huh?” “Whose fault do you think that is?!”
Dazai nodded a few times before responding. “But I understand why you’re worried. Over the years, I have been avoiding boring, tedious work whenever I could. But it would be difficult this time to force the responsibility onto someone else under these conditions. This is a meeting, after all. It would be quite surprising if everyone’s opinion somehow suited my needs.”
“Really? I think it’s quite the opposite,” Kunikida said while crossing his arms. “For example, the meeting has pretty much settled on creating a problem that doesn’t exist. In other words, we only need one unlucky individual to handle the ruse, and then you’re free. Also, you’re the one who chose the time and place for the meeting along with who would be coming, so I can’t help but wonder if you predicted we would end up going with such a proposal. You waited until everyone decided on it because you calculated your scheme so that someone other than you would have to do all the work. Am I wrong?”
“You’re really buttering me up today, Kunikida.” Dazai audaciously smirked. “I see now. So you were on your guard this entire time, huh? All

right, Kunikida, let’s hear your proposal, then.”
“I won’t force you to do all the work, but at the very least, I want this to be fair,” Kunikida stated. “I don’t want any dishonesty. Whether the roles are easy or difficult, they have to be fairly decided upon in a way that everyone will agree with.”
“Understood. That’s a very convincing argument,” Dazai said before looking at each and every person in the room. Then, out of nowhere, he added, “What do you think, Tanizaki?”
“Wh-what? Me? Um… I…”
Tanizaki panicked after suddenly being called on. He glanced at Kunikida, who stared back at him as if he wanted to say something. Tanizaki had been a timid person ever since the day he was born, and he tried to think through his confusion. There shouldn’t be a problem if he simply agreed.
“I… I think that’s a great idea.” Tanizaki managed to string some words together. “The entrance exam has always been difficult, so I think forcing roles on one another isn’t going to make anything better.”
“Then how about we do this?” Dazai clapped his hands together before continuing. “How about we let Tanizaki decide on how we’re going to allocate the roles? You could go with ghost legs, or cards, or— Well, just choose something that’s fair and square. That’s how we’ll determine who gets the grunt work. How’s that sound, Kunikida?”
Kunikida silently shot Tanizaki a look. Tanizaki started to quietly panic once again; everything was going a lot more smoothly than he had imagined.
“Okay…”
Tanizaki pretended to think while trying to calm himself down. What should he do? He thought back to what Kunikida said when they discussed the matter. According to him, “Dazai never directly says what he wants. He always gets someone else to say it for him.” If Ranpo was the art of deduction itself in the agency, Dazai would be the epitome of manipulation. The marionette strings he used to tie down and control people’s hearts were complex and abstruse. Nobody could see where they led. But he couldn’t stall here.
“How about we draw strips of paper?” Tanizaki suggested with a forced smile. “We’ll write numbers on them and have everyone draw one. The

smaller the number, the more stressful role.” Dazai instantly agreed.
“That’s not enough.” Kunikida furrowed his brows. “Surely you know how tricky this man’s fingers can be. They’re frighteningly dexterous. He could pick a lock to a bank’s safe with a single needle, so of course making fake slips of paper and switching them out would be nothing for him.”
“Hee-hee…” Dazai placed a hand over his mouth as he giggled, bouncing in his chair. “I can’t tell you how tickled I am to have Kunikida compliment me so much today.”
“Stop laughing. It’s creepy.” “Then why don’t we do this?”
Tanizaki turned his gaze upon the old newspaper on the corner of the conference table—the one Yosano had been reading. “Let’s use this old newspaper. It’s from two months ago, so it’d probably be hard to prepare a fake one or write over it.”