Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 3 Chapter 4 Part 1

Chapter 4 Part 1

Three times, Fukuzawa told Ranpo to quiet down as he whined for candy.
Twice, Ranpo wore down Fukuzawa’s patience until he caved.

Three times, Ranpo asked Fukuzawa why planes could fly.
Four times, Fukuzawa convinced Ranpo to keep walking when he complained his legs were tired.
Four times, Fukuzawa carried Ranpo on his back.
The two of them finally arrived at their next destination, but Ranpo endlessly rambled, asked for opinions, and complained all along the way: “I hate walking. I’m not built for physical labor. Traveling’s such a waste of time. What’s the point of phones if we’re not going to use them? Are we still not there yet? I want some more candy. This brand has been garbage recently. Their products got worse after they changed CEOs. Cities are awful, but the countryside is worse. I wanna go on a sightseeing cruise. I wanna feed the birds. Are we seriously not there yet? I want more candy. How are we not there yet? I want more candy. Are you sure we’re not taking the long way?”
Fukuzawa didn’t even bat an eye. A child’s irritating ramblings were nowhere near enough to break the mental concentration of a man who had trained his spirit and technique through mastering ancient Japanese martial arts. His daily training had paid off; he was able to deal with Ranpo the entire time without letting anything show up on his face.
Nevertheless, while he was responding with nods and brief interjections, he had mentally already tossed Ranpo to the curb. He tied up Ranpo, left him on the street corner, and went home…in his head. He removed a manhole cover, tricked Ranpo to fall into it, and splash! After hearing Ranpo fall to his demise, he closed the manhole cover and left…in his head. Fukuzawa quietly came up with fifty ways to get rid of Ranpo and go home, but all the events solely took place in his mind. The more ideas Fukuzawa came up with, the more expressionless his face became, thus saving him from ever losing his temper and yelling. Ranpo even expressed admiration in the end. After idly gazing at Fukuzawa’s expression, he said:
“You’re one patient old guy.”
It was a moment of great danger. If Fukuzawa’s concentration had wavered in even the slightest, Ranpo would have a manhole over his head by now. Fukuzawa’s daily training in the martial arts really was coming in handy. After traveling for two hours, Fukuzawa had finally come up with his fifty-first idea…but it was something far too wicked to ever repeat. Soon after, they eventually reach their destination.

“A theater?” “Yes.”
The deep-blue evening sky hung over them as they stood before the rectangular theater building. The current play’s poster was plastered on the bulletin board at the entrance. A few patrons could already be seen inside, despite there being quite a bit of time left before the show started. There was a stone monument installed in the wall with the words THEATRUM MUNDI carved into it.
Ranpo frowned melodramatically. “This looks so boring.”
“The owner here is short on staff. If all goes well, then we can probably get you a job.”
“What did the client hire you for anyway?” “A death threat.”
Fukuzawa began to walk toward the entrance. Ranpo soon jogged after him.

After going through the service entrance in the back, Fukuzawa walked down the staircase to the basement, where the theater owner greeted him.
“So?” the owner demanded casually. “What’s your excuse for being late?”
The owner was a woman in a suit, probably around Fukuzawa’s age. With her chest held out and her arms crossed before her hips, she looked up at Fukuzawa with a defiant gaze. She seemed to have a tic where she would push up her glasses every few moments or so. Her wiry black-framed glasses were shaped like acute triangles.
“My apologies, Ms. Egawa.”
Fukuzawa bowed his head before the woman. It was Ranpo’s fault they were late due to his whining and grumbling, but that had nothing to do with this lady.
“Sigh. It’s fine.”
The owner swiftly turned around, then began walking down the hallway, her shoes click-clacking. Fukuzawa silently followed.
“There’s still time before the performance, so make sure to have a good look at the scene of the crime.”
While following Ms. Egawa, Fukuzawa asked, “Do you have any idea

who made the death threat yet?”
Ms. Egawa stopped in her tracks and turned around.
“That isn’t your job. I’ve already alerted the police. Your job as bodyguard is to capture the culprit if anyone gets killed. In other words, you’re nothing more than security. The officers in uniform will be keeping watch and investigating. Gah, I can’t stand this. Someone sent us a death threat, and guess how many cops were sent over? Four. Just four. Ugh. I’m getting upset just thinking about it. They probably think this is a big joke; they seem so certain no one will get killed. If someone does end up murdered, then they’ll know the blood’s on their hands, mark my words.”
Fukuzawa didn’t even bat an eye, despite his confusion. The client who had introduced him to the theater said the owner was levelheaded and reliable in her work, but she seemed slightly different from what he had imagined. But that wasn’t a problem for Fukuzawa. He had no interest in commenting on how others did their jobs. He simply needed to do his job, just like the owner said.
“Could you tell me about the threat? Depending on what the enemy is after, that could change how I approach things.”
“Take a look at this.”
Ms. Egawa took out a printed sheet of paper. A few lines were written in a simple typographical style.
“Someone sent this to my office a few days ago. ‘An angel shall bring death, in the truest sense of the word, to the performer. —V.’ They wrote the date and time of the performance along with its title. ‘Angels’? ‘V’? This death threat is ridiculous. I’ll bet it’s one of the rival theaters trying to hurt the business.”
“You think so?”
A voice suddenly came out of nowhere, making Ms. Egawa jump.
“I happen to think it’s pretty well done. One of the actors is going to be killed? Personally, I can’t wait to see how this turns out, but I guess nothing really fazes you once you’re old. You’ve probably seen it all by now.”
“‘O-old’…?!” Ms. Egawa’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Fukuzawa, who is this child? This is no time to be bringing along uninvited guests.”
“My apologies. He’s…looking for a job. I heard from your people that you were short on staff, so I thought maybe you could give him an interview when this was all taken care of.”

“Well, we do need more workers year-round, but…” She narrowed her eyes and stared at Ranpo dubiously. “All right. Please send your résumé to the office in accordance with the rules, and we will examine it along with the other candidates.”
“Whaaat? There are other people who want to work here?” Ranpo seemed to be in a bad mood. “That’s not fair. There’s no way I’m going to be hired if you do that! Make up your mind now.”
“Excuse me?”
Fukuzawa sighed deep down inside his throat so that nobody else could hear.
I…had a feeling this was going to happen.
“Listen here, kid. Do you really think grown-ups want to hire a brat? Good manners are a must in the adult world, so you’d do best to keep that in mind,” said Ms. Egawa.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one already.” Around that moment, Ranpo began looking unprecedently annoyed. “The ‘adult world’ makes absolutely no sense to me. Why can’t we just say how we really feel instead of hiding it? Take you for example. You don’t want to be a theater owner. You may have spent a lot of money on your clothes and shoes to intimidate the workers, but you barely take care of your nails, and you don’t wear any rings. Plus, you have calluses on your palms, although they’re fading. Your hands want to return to their former job. In addition, you don’t trust the police, your bodyguard, or anyone who works at the theater. If you did, you would’ve introduced this old guy here to the cops. But you didn’t because you want him to keep an eye on them for you, right? And vice versa. I mean, I don’t blame you, since someone’s life is at risk here, but why not just come clean from the get-go?”
“Wha—?” She reflexively hid her hands. “Nonsense. What a rude child.”
Her flustered expression made it clear to Fukuzawa as well. Ranpo must have hit the nail on the head.
“Want me to go on? The simple necklace you’re wearing is brand-new, but it wasn’t a gift. You bought it yourself. Also, you once pierced your ears, but the holes have started to close, showing me that it’s been a few years since you’ve had a relationship with—”
“That’s enough,” interrupted Fukuzawa in a hushed tone. “Ms. Egawa,

how you really feel is of no importance to me. All I plan on doing is making sure nobody dies tonight. At any rate, would you mind if I asked some of your workers some questions?”
“Whatever. Just do your job!” barked Ms. Egawa, trying not to sound flustered. “I like what I do! Ugh! I’ve had enough of this. I seriously just can’t catch a break…”
She stomped off, quickly clicking her heels down the entrance hall as she left.
“The adult world is so bizarre. What made her so mad?” Ranpo muttered as he watched her walk away.
Fukuzawa took in a deep breath, paused, then exhaled. His expression was exhaustion itself. It was the face of someone who had found out why Ranpo couldn’t hold a job.

The details of what the performers would be doing during the show had to be investigated. If the death threats were aimed at the performers, then they had to nail down a few things. Where were they going to be and at what time? Would there be any moments when they would be alone? Apparently, the police were mainly keeping their eyes on the entrances and exits, and there weren’t enough of them to guard each performer individually. In other words, once the criminal got inside the venue, they would be free to do whatever they’d like.
Therefore, Fukuzawa and Ranpo went around talking to each performer. They were handed the time schedule the performers all got, along with a program that had all of their roles and appearances listed. Nevertheless, Fukuzawa felt he had to check what exactly each performer would be doing and when they would be vulnerable. He needed to remind them to not do anything alone. If given the chance, Fukuzawa also wanted to ask the performers if they had any idea why the criminal sent them a death threat.
The first person Fukuzawa went to was the star of the show—a young man, from a group of twelve performers, who would be playing the protagonist. He was sitting in his private dressing room while religiously reading over his lines.