Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 6 Chapter 1 Part 5

Chapter 1 Part 5

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.”