Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 3 Chapter 5 Part 7

Chapter 5 Part 7

Fukuzawa was rushing toward an underground prison. It was a square, one- story building adjacent to the police station. He had already contacted them in advance, so he greeted the guards and headed straight down the long staircase. Unlike a detention cell that temporarily held suspects, the facility was built with the principal aim to keep any criminals from ever leaving. Fukuzawa reached a thick steel double door. There were no windows in the cell, and the walls were reinforced with steel frames. In the back was a boy.
“You awake?”

The boy wore a straitjacket and was constrained with multiple chains in the empty concrete room. He slowly looked up. His empty, emotionless eyes were a reddish brown. Fukuzawa looked through the narrow observation window on the door and saw the assassin’s face. It was the hit man from this morning who’d killed the secretary. He quietly stared at Fukuzawa from under his short crimson hair, not so much as a hint of emotion in his eyes.
“How’s the cell?”
“Not as bad as some others. The air-conditioning works.”
Even Fukuzawa, who had faced numerous villains and assassins, had never seen eyes like his. Most skilled hit men looked down on others as if they were insects. Their eyes were cold and lacked compassion. But this boy’s were different. They weren’t cold or any temperature. They were just empty. Not only was there no compassion or kindness, there was no hate or passion to kill. His eyes were those of a person who had given up all hope and despair—the eyes of a person who had removed himself from emotional things.
This kid’s different from the old me. Perhaps he never felt any joy from killing others. He was probably only killing because he had nothing else to do.
“I came because there’s something I want to ask you,” Fukuzawa said, facing the observation window. “Have a look at this.”
Fukuzawa held out the case toward the observation window, showing the cylinder with the memory device.
“This is a memory device used by a certain national organization. It needs special equipment to be deciphered, and stealing the information inside is next to impossible. It’s used by people under the witness protection program so they can remain invisible to the public while exchanging information with the witness protection organization. In other words, key figures targeted by criminal organizations would possess this device. Furthermore, there’s something all these key figures have in common. They’re all skill users.”
Fukuzawa closely observed the hit man, but the hit man’s gaze didn’t change.
“Now let’s talk about why I’m here. You are a highly skilled assassin who’s worked for outside organizations as well, I’m sure. So have you received any requests to capture a skill user as of late?” The boy didn’t answer.
“Which is it?”

“…I can’t reveal my clients,” answered the boy in a hoarse voice. “Doesn’t have to be about your clients’ requests.” Fukuzawa tried to
bargain. “Have you heard recently about anybody around here searching for someone who could capture a skill user alive? It’s a difficult target, someone who pops up randomly and is currently under the witness protection program. The client would have asked for this man to be found and captured alive in secret. The payment would have been exceptional, and the client would have kept their identity confidential. The client would have probably called themselves ‘Angel’ or ‘V.’”
The moment the boy heard the name “V,” his shoulders twitched. This assassin knows something, Fukuzawa thought.
The government, which didn’t officially acknowledge the existence of skill users, was secretly protecting those skill users, and the gentleman in the suit was most likely one of them. They were preeminent figures even in this city, beings sought after by foreign military parties, domestic criminal organizations, and countless enemies. It wasn’t clear why these people were after them, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to say they held secrets connected to the foundation of the country.
A run-of-the-mill group of thugs wouldn’t even be able to find a footprint left by someone of that caliber. Even if they did find them, they wouldn’t be able to break through the witness protection organization’s police line unless they were a top-class assassin. Plus, the organization behind this—the so-called V—refused to dirty their own hands. They would solely use people from the outside.
That was why an assassin of this level would have surely heard of a job like this. There was no way “V” would ignore such a convenient hit man who was talented but didn’t work for any specific group.
“…I don’t want to talk about them.” The young man finally spoke up. He had a boy’s voice, but his tone sounded like a worn-out elderly man with no emotions. “Do you know what their goal is?”
“No,” replied Fukuzawa.
All he knew was that this criminal organization set up an entire scheme and got everyone in the theater involved just to capture one man.

“Justice,” said the hit man. “I can understand killing for money or because you hated someone, but they’re killing for justice. I don’t want to get involved with a group like that. After they’re done killing for their justice, they’ll only continue to kill. They’ll just stop caring who they’re killing.”
Those were heart-wrenching words to Fukuzawa, and he almost uttered a cry.
“I’m not ordering you to fight them,” Fukuzawa said, managing to keep his voice calm. “They kidnapped my friend. Do you know of any place they could be keeping him?”
The boy shot a piercing gaze at Fukuzawa. His eyes were open wide. “…I’ve got no reason to tell you.”
“True,” agreed Fukuzawa. “But if you do tell me, I wouldn’t mind testifying that the secretary’s death this morning was the result of an accident during a struggle. You’d be released tomorrow.”
Something like surprise faintly wavered in the boy’s gaze. “…Are you being serious?”
Fukuzawa nodded in silence.
“I’m shocked.” The boy shook his head. “I didn’t think you were the kind of person who would turn their back on justice for a deal.”
Fukuzawa himself was just as taken aback. Never once had he made a deal with a criminal. However, it was surprisingly easy for him to make this decision. Maybe he would regret things by tomorrow. Maybe he would remember this decision and feel guilty one day. But now, at this moment, there was neither contradiction nor regret in Fukuzawa’s heart.
He had to save Ranpo…because Ranpo was an idiot. He was naive and rash and still just a kid who didn’t think through things far enough. In fact, he was foolish enough to use himself as bait to lure out the real culprit.
Fukuzawa had come to this conclusion on his way to the underground prison. Ranpo allowed himself to be kidnapped to lure out the enemy, and he intended to have Fukuzawa save him. That was probably a flawless plan to Ranpo. It was probably the only way to drag out the real culprit, who would never show their face in public otherwise.
If that was what Ranpo was thinking, then that would make him extremely foolish.
Fukuzawa had to find Ranpo, but if he were outnumbered and outclassed when he found the enemy’s hideout, then Ranpo would still be killed. They weren’t the kind of people who would let someone live after they knew the truth. What Ranpo thought was a bright idea was not even worth considering from Fukuzawa’s point of view. It was as foolish as swimming in a swamp in the middle of winter, and that was exactly why Fukuzawa couldn’t abandon him.
“So? Will you take the deal?”
The assassin stared at Fukuzawa for a few moments.
“This facility isn’t that bad,” admitted the boy as he looked around the room. “Besides, I can escape whenever I want on my own, so your offer isn’t worth it.”
It would take at least a fully armed platoon to escape from this facility.
And yet, Fukuzawa’s gut told him that this boy wasn’t lying. “Then what would be worth your time?”
The boy quietly stared at the floor for a few seconds.
“I’ve been working alone as an assassin for as long as I can remember,” he began. “I’ve never wanted friends or a boss, but…seeing a master martial artist like you compromise your principles to save one of your men… It makes me kinda jealous. He must be the happiest guy in the world to have you as his boss.”
Fukuzawa was about to correct him.
Ranpo wasn’t his subordinate, and he wasn’t cut out to be anyone’s boss. If anything, he was the same as this boy. He avoided organizations and bonding with others.
However, what came out of Fukuzawa’s mouth was: “You think so?”
The words that slipped off his tongue were completely different from what he wanted to say. The boy quietly nodded.
“I heard they use a few buildings to do business. You should probably start checking the ones closest first.”
Fukuzawa was at a loss for words until the boy looked up at him.
“This place gives me a bed, and it’s got air-conditioning, but the food’s awful,” said the boy. “I heard you had some influence over the higher-ups in the police force. Could you hook me up? That’s all I need.”
Fukuzawa slightly narrowed his eyes, then asked, “Any requests?” The boy gave the faintest of smirks. He then replied:

“Curry.”
“Listen, Master Detective Ranpo. This is the best deal you are going to get. It’s either you take the deal, or they squeeze the information out of you. Which is it going to be? I don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate.”
Mitamura took a step forward. Sitting in a chair and swinging his legs about, Ranpo absentmindedly replied, “‘Negotiate’? I have no intention of negotiating, and when the conversation doesn’t interest me, it just goes in one ear and out the other. Just sounds like a cow mooing to me. Moooo.”
Mitamura’s eyebrow suddenly twitched. Still, he rubbed his forehead in an attempt to hold back his emotions.
“Listen, Ranpo. You’re extremely lucky that I’m the one here negotiating with you. The others probably would have sawed off your toes by now. But I saw your marvelous skill, which is why I’m being sincere when I—”
“Oh, hey. There it is again. Moooo.”
“…Rrgh!” Mitamura reflexively reached for the gun at his waist. His hand trembled in rage as he tried to control himself. As the tension in his muscles shook his arm, he said, “I am trying…to treat you like an adult. My job at the theater was to make sure the plan went smoothly and to deal with the aftermath. If you’re out of the picture, then nobody will ever know what really happened. And yet, here I am opening up to you, telling you the truth, and trying to negotiate with you like a grown man. I am doing all of this in good faith.”
“That would sound a lot more convincing without the vein bulging out of your forehead. What you’re saying is I better work for you or you’ll kill me. Where’s the good faith in that? Besides, people at the top like me do what they want.” Ranpo shrugged. “In any case, we’re talking about me, a genius detective and skill user. Did you really think I’d let you take me all the way outside of town to be threatened without a plan?”
“…!”
Mitamura reflexively pulled his gun on Ranpo, but Ranpo simply looked down the barrel. “…You’re lying,” said Mitamura. “I searched you. You didn’t have a transmitter.”
“That’s because I don’t need one.” Ranpo’s lips slightly curled, and the muscles around Mitamura’s jaw tensed.
“Fine. Then let me be honest with you. It pisses me off that a brat like you ruined our plan, and your arrogance gets on my nerves. So your skill lets you see the truth? So what? A pathetic skill like that wouldn’t even be able to stop a single bullet.”
He pulled back the hammer with his thumb. There was a click.
“But even then, I tried to be nice to you for the sake of our supreme purpose—to rid this country of the scum that plagues it—those who bring chaos—the parasites that eat away at the framework of the nation—in other words, the skill users.”
“I see. So ‘V’ is an organization of skill users that banded together to get rid of other skill users, huh?” Ranpo faintly smiled.
“We use anything we can for our purpose, whether it be a skill user or a man hiding behind the witness protection program. That’s our—”
Mitamura’s hand holding the pistol trembled. His finger tightened around the trigger.
“Get on with it already. If you’re gonna shoot me, then do it,” taunted Ranpo as he gazed into the barrel. “Oh, but wait another five seconds first, okay? Because if my predictions are correct, then in three…two…”