Chapter 66

Kurosawa Shiran stretched nonchalantly, licked her lips, and let out a soft "hmm" in her throat. "Does Sister have any other plans for later?"

He stared intently at her, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

Rina felt as if her heart had been scratched by a kitten, and a burning, throbbing sensation gradually began to grip her heart.

"I need to go to Fujiwara's house," she said.

Kurosawa Shiran looked directly into her eyes, opened his long, slender hand and pressed it against hers, gently stroking her wrist, a hint of expectation in his eyes.

"But my sister just kissed me, doesn't she have to take responsibility?"

Rina raised an eyebrow. "Then do you need to kiss me back?"

“Of course I need to,” Kurosawa Shiran said, her fingers tightly intertwined with hers. “Does my sister know what I was planning to do when I first pulled you into the car?”

What good intentions could a naughty puppy possibly have? Rina only remembered that the words "little beast" kept flashing through her mind at that time.

She stared at Kurosawa Shiran for a moment, and before she could look away, her phone suddenly rang in her pocket.

Kurosawa Shiran slowly frowned.

Similarly, Rina stared at the unfamiliar international number for a moment, and after answering, the other party said directly: "...Let's meet, Great Detective."

Kurosawa Shiran quickly recognized the voice, but Rina was completely confused, having never met this man before: "Who?"

The person opposite him chuckled, rubbed their hands together, and whispered, "Frank."

Upon hearing this, Rina gripped the phone tightly without saying a word.

Frank hissed, as if he had aggravated his wound, but his tone remained languid. "Let's talk."

Rina was silent for three seconds, then asked, "What?"

“I’m being hunted by that organization, and I don’t have long to live,” Frank paused, then continued, “I have some good news for you before I die.”

Rina replied without hesitation, "I'll tell you over the phone."

Frank chuckled: "Would you believe me if I said it on the phone?"

Rina had a bad feeling. She looked up at Kurosawa Shiran, and the two of them were very close, staring at each other. When she turned her face, her face touched his chin. Rina said in a low voice, "I only believe in evidence."

Frank: "The same person killed Dante and the same person killed Takizawa Nanase."

In an instant, Rina's face turned pale, and the color drained from her cheeks at a visible speed. Kurosawa Shiran squeezed her clasped hands tightly to bring her back to her senses. "...I know."

Frank took a breath. "Takizawa obtained the organization's internal documents before he died... You didn't find them, or you didn't even know they existed."

Police found Takizawa's body on a passenger ship. By the time the detective agency arrived, it was too late. The body had already been taken back to the police station. She had only seen the autopsy report, which showed no wounds other than a gunshot wound, and no personal belongings.

Rina's brows furrowed suddenly: "How do you know he got his hands on the inside information?"

Even Shimono Gen and Damian were unaware of this matter.

“The informant… is dead,” Frank said in a weak voice. “Their plan has begun, and you will be their target sooner or later.”

What plan? What goals?

Before Rina could even say "hello," the other party had already hung up the phone.

Kurosawa Shiran looked distressed. "Sister?"

Rina gasped, a rare look of confusion flashing in her eyes. After a long silence, she turned to look at the crowd outside the car window, regaining her composure. "There's still no news from Fujiwara no Kiyomi."

Kurosawa Shiran raised one eyebrow. "He's probably already dead."

“The murderer used the phone to delay the time of her disappearance,” Rina wanted to smoke, but the bitterness in her mouth was almost overflowing. She turned to look at Kurosawa Shiran, whose eyes had dimmed completely at this moment. “Go to Nagoya.”

"Where's my sister?" Kurosawa Shiran asked slowly. "What did she do after she sent me away?"

Rina: "Go see Fujiwara Yukino."

A cold light gleamed in Kurosawa Shiran's eyes, and the curve of his lips deepened. "If my sister is in danger, then I might as well not live either."

"Nothing will happen." The boy's exquisite features had a breathtaking beauty, but his gaze was sinister. Every inch of skin that he swept over felt like it was being crawled over by a cold, venomous snake. After saying that, Rina wanted to get out of the car, but when she pressed the door, she found that it was already locked. She looked at him in surprise.

Kurosawa Shiran looked puzzled, showing no intention of letting him go. "There's absolutely no credibility to it."

Rina sat back in the passenger seat and picked up her phone to call Damian, but hesitated when she thought about how he had finally found a girlfriend to go on a date with.

Does she want to drag another person into this conspiracy?

"Even if I die, you should live well." Rina covered her face with her hands, leaned back in her chair, and looked extremely dejected.

Kurosawa Shiran asked her, "To benefit humanity?"

Because of that phone call, Rina's eyes were starting to turn bloodshot.

“It’s already one in the morning. If the police don’t plan to look for her, my sister can’t do anything on her own,” Kurosawa Shiran’s gaze lingered on Rina’s face for a long time. “Let’s wait until dawn.”

-

Sagara stayed up all night searching for commonalities among the nine victims, and at this moment, his tired face was devoid of color.

When his colleague saw him lift his face, he thought he saw Sadako (the female lead in the novel "Sagako"). "Saga, if you keep going like this, you'll ruin your health. You're too stubborn!"

However, it was precisely his stubbornness that led to the discovery of the nine corpses at the bottom of Lover's Lake.

Sagara, holding his coffee cup, swayed as he sat up, walked to the water dispenser, brewed a cup of instant coffee, and muttered, "Why does that woman named Natsume think Fujiwara no Toshiko is missing?"

The police officer explained, "According to Officer Sato's investigation, Fujiwara Nozomi and Munakata were college classmates, and on the night of the incident, Fujiwara Nozomi's car was parked across the street from the bar."

Sagara frowned: "Then we should suspect her as the murderer."

The officer speculated, "Perhaps an accomplice, or a witness to the crime scene?"

"An accomplice...witnessed the crime scene," Sagara took a deep breath, remained silent for a long time, then, as if remembering something, put his coffee cup on the table and ran into Masanobu Nobuo's office, forgetting to even knock on the door, "Officer!"

The office was empty and deserted.

Sagara hurriedly took out his phone, intending to call Masanobu Nozomi Mochida, but in a quick glance, he happened to see the photo that proved Natsume Rina was a suspect.

No! It's not Natsume Rina.

The person in this photo is Fujiwara Nozomi!

The shock at that moment was like spending the night in the same bed with Sadako. In a moment of panic, Sagara hurriedly pushed aside the documents on top, picked up the photos, and examined them carefully.

That's right, the person holding the red wig in this photo is Fujiwara Nozomi!

If Natsume Rina's deduction is correct, and Fujiwara Nozomi accidentally witnessed the crime scene, then the only person who could fake that she was not missing is Fujiwara Yukino's secretary, Hanazawa Yu!

But why is this photo on Masanobu Mochida's desk?

Sagara felt another subtle fear, which almost overwhelmed him after a moment of hesitation. He secretly slipped the photo into his clothes and turned to go to the evidence department.

But this time it didn't go so smoothly. The officers from the Evidence Division stopped him at the door and said that as key evidence, he needed his superior's permission to view it.

Sagara planned to compare this photo with the one he obtained from the Thirty-One Club to determine its authenticity. But he never expected that examining a piece of evidence would require writing a report! It wasn't like he was investigating an old case!

Sagara increasingly felt that something was amiss, and a deep furrow formed between his tightly furrowed brows.

Just then, he felt a regular vibration in his pocket; it was Masanobu Nobuo Nozomi calling him.

Sagara got goosebumps, turned around and walked to a quiet stairwell, saying tremblingly, "Officer."

He suddenly remembered a detail.

At the time, the door to Masanobu Mochida's office was unlocked, which meant that someone could sneak into the office and put the photos inside.

Rather than suspecting his seniors, he was more inclined to believe that someone had deliberately framed him.

The most urgent task is to determine whether the photos are genuine or not.

Masanobu Nozomi: "The victim's family just called. Someone smashed their window in the middle of the night. Could you go check it out in a bit?"

"Officer," Sagara said stiffly, his mind blank, his fists clenched, "what's the deal with the photos on your desk?"

"What photo?" asked Masanobu Nobuo Mochida, puzzled.

Sagara took a deep breath and tentatively said, "There's a picture of Fujiwara Nozomi on the desk."

“I haven’t been back yet, how would I know about any photos? Ask other people,” Nozomi Mochida paused, without asking why, and quickly decided to change the subject. “Don’t forget to go to the family. I still need to keep those newspapers in check. We’ll talk about it later.”

Sagara was taken aback, then reacted, "Officer—"

The call had ended. Sagara glanced at his watch and decided to sneak into the office while everyone was out for lunch.

Then, take these two photos to the Thirty-One Club in person for comparison. That way, no matter how sophisticated the photo-editing technology is, they will definitely be able to find flaws.

However, after he drove away from the police station, a car quickly followed him.

With two days to go before the mayoral election results are announced, the number of people at the club has increased significantly, and for security reasons, bodyguards are everywhere.

Sagara stood at the door, straightening the suit he had changed into in the car. Just as he was about to enter, a man in a black suit blocked his way.

"The Thirty-One Club isn't a place you can just walk into whenever you want."

Sagara looked up at him, then became acutely aware of the size difference between him and the man in front of him—it was like Beauty and the Beast.

"Everyone has to go to the toilet sometimes." Fear was spreading, so he joked around and honestly walked past him.

Unfortunately, the bodyguard had no intention of letting him go. He grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the guard room next door.

Before the second word "police" could be uttered, his mouth was already covered.

The bodyguard, wearing sunglasses, said in a cold voice, "Search them first."

Sagara opened his eyes wide, trying to break free, when he was punched in the stomach. A burst of white light flashed before his eyes, and the pain brought tears to his eyes. He collapsed to the ground.

He realized something was wrong, curled up on the ground, covered his head with his arms, and began to receive heavy blows to his back and abdomen.

The ten minutes felt like an eternity. Sagara felt his bones trembling, his shirt soaked with cold sweat, which mixed with the blood flowing from the corner of his mouth, leaving a red stain on the ground.

Wallet, cell phone, police ID, keys, and three pieces of fruit candy. The bodyguard checked all the items, threw them into the brazier beside him, tilted his head, and said with a hint of regret, "Here, those who want to be heroes are all dead."

Sagara was beaten until he was almost unconscious. His face and neck were covered in sticky blood, and his vision was blurred. He only knew that he had been thrown into a muddy and damp alley, and that he was covered in a disgusting stench.

This place is secluded; further ahead are bars, and there are too many people urinating and defecating indiscriminately.

Sagara even bit his tongue until it bled. He stood up, leaning against the cold wall. Blood flowed down his arm to his fingertips and dripped to the ground, but his chest hurt too much, and his knee had a deep gash that exposed the bone.

With a soft "crack," he lost his balance.

Fortunately, he was caught just as he was about to fall face-first.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in a hospital room, with Zong Fang's father by his side.

Sagara was so ashamed that his face turned bright red, but his bruised and swollen face was completely hidden from view. "Y-you, what are you doing here?"

Zong Fangcheng, his hair completely white, said in a hoarse voice, "My son's case has been unresolved for so long, how can a father sit at home and not get any results?"

The ward was quiet, with only the beeping of the electrocardiogram monitor. Xiangliang swallowed the blood from the corner of his mouth and said, "Was that black car yours?"

Zong Fangcheng nodded. "The doctor said you have three broken ribs and your arm is also injured. The hospital admission procedures have been completed for you."

Sagara said, "I'll give you that money when my family arrives..."

Munakata Seiichi placed the straw into the cup and handed it to him, asking, "Are you investigating Munakata's case?"

Sagara felt as if his bones had been disassembled and reassembled. He took a difficult sip of water and remained silent.

“They even dared to beat up police officers,” Zongfang Chengyi said, looking at the young man covered in injuries, the pain spreading from his fingertips to his heart. “Is there any way to find the killer in this case?”

The trail went cold, his superiors couldn't be trusted, and there was a mole within the police station. Sagara turned his head, gazing at the falling leaves outside the window. He remained silent for a long time, tears mixed with blood rolling down his cheeks. He said, "Yes."

He was determined to find out the truth, no matter what.

“You’re not much different from my son,” Zongfang Chengyi stood up and helped him tuck in the blanket. His fingers trembled slightly, but his movements were very gentle, as if he was afraid of hurting him. “I’ve already called that police officer named Sato.”

As Sagara watched Munakata Seiichi's retreating figure, he couldn't help but think of his own father.

He was a man whose faith he could find again no matter how badly he fell.

With a heavy heart, Zongfang Chengyi walked out of the hospital, took out a half-pack of crumpled cigarettes from his pocket, and lit a cigarette on the roadside.

After lighting it, the lighter fell from his hand and landed on the ground.

They didn't even bend down to pick it up.

Even though he wasn't involved in the case, seeing the police officers' lives hanging by a thread, he knew that the case was bottomless.

In other words, even risking their lives doesn't guarantee catching the murderer...

The cigarette burned slowly between his fingers, and the moment his hand was burned, Zong Fangcheng snapped out of his daze and saw a strange woman standing opposite him, staring at him intently.

Nakamura Yukio, wearing high heels, walked up to him step by step and said abruptly, "Please accept my condolences."

Munakata Seiichi's previously unfocused gaze instantly sharpened. "Who are you?"

Yukio Nakamura took the cigarette from his hand, threw it on the ground, and stubbed it out with her high heels. She said in a low voice, "I'll tell you, I know who killed your son."

Zong Fangcheng's numbness was pierced, and he asked in a deep voice, "Who exactly are you?"

“Your son’s case is very tricky. In the end, we might just catch a scapegoat,” Nakamura Yukio sighed, looking helpless. “After all, when it comes to politicians, justice only becomes a tool for them to legitimize their position.”

Zongfang Chengyi asked suspiciously, "Politician?"

“Munekata is the manager of a boy band in the entertainment industry, and this company is under the name of Hideo Kawashima,” Yukio Nakamura paused for a moment, “He is a candidate for mayor, and I don’t need to say more about the power behind him.”

Zongfang Chengyi stared into her eyes and asked, "Why should I believe you?"

“The newspaper will publish it tomorrow,” Yukio Nakamura said, “in the Mainichi Shimbun.”

The Mainichi Shimbun is one of Japan's national newspapers, and together with the Asahi Shimbun and Yomiuri Shimbun, it is known as one of Japan's three major newspapers, holding an important position in the news industry.

Munakata Seiichi silently processed the situation for a while, then looked at her with hatred.

“People like them won’t get what they deserve; they’ll only rise higher and higher,” said Yukio Nakamura. “If I’m not mistaken, he’ll be the mayor tomorrow.”

As she spoke, she took a newspaper out of her handbag and handed it to Munakata Seiichi, then turned and left.