Chapter 11 Human Balloon (4) The moon hangs hazy in the night sky…

In the night sky, the hazy moonlight was like a thin veil, and a dark shadow slowly floated in the air. The pale face with sorrow was blurred in the moonlight, and its edges became soft and indistinct under the moonlight, blurring into a faint gray shadow, with an eerie gentleness.

Kunikida Doppo held his breath. The face of the human-headed balloon was indeed exactly the same as Nishimura Yuko's face, and the other person's head was three times larger than that of an ordinary person.

The three of them remained silent as the human-shaped balloon appeared, maintaining the same tacit understanding. Going out now would only alert the enemy.

"Did you hear anything?" Zhu Yi asked in a low voice.

A very faint sob was heard with exceptional clarity in the quiet night. The sound seemed to drift away and into the evening breeze, cold, sorrowful, and painful, making it impossible to pinpoint its source.

The girl's soft voice echoed lonely in the darkness, seemingly carrying unspeakable resentment.

For some reason, Kunikida Doppo felt a tightness in his chest, and an inexplicable sadness rose within him.

He committed suicide by jumping into the river.

What a painful way to die! How much suffering must she have endured while she was alive to feel that even death was a relief for her?

How desperate and helpless must one have been to choose this way to end their life?

Kunikida Doppo pursed his lips, lowered his eyes slightly, and his fingers curled up slightly.

At the same time, the lights in the second-floor rooms of the Sato family house went out again, and then the lights on the first floor were also turned off one after another.

The sobbing gradually became intermittent as time passed, and perhaps it was just my imagination, but the shape of the human-shaped balloon gradually became transparent.

Dazai Osamu looked up at the sky: "It's going to disappear."

As Dazai Osamu finished speaking, his figure gradually blended into the moonlight and slowly disappeared into the night sky.

The streets returned to their usual quiet of the night. The girl's sobs, which had just echoed, ceased as the balloons with human heads disappeared.

Kunikida Doppo opened his ever-present notebook, took out a pen, and began scribbling something on the pages. He diligently wrote: "Reinforcements to the characteristics of the 'human head balloon': it exhibits self-dissipation, suggesting possible teleportation and the ability to become invisible at any time..."

“Mr. Kunikida is far too meticulous.” Takeichi pinched his nose, finding the trash can next to him unbearable. He looked at Kunikida Doppo’s serious attitude, which allowed him to ignore the stench of the trash can, and his tone was full of genuine admiration: “He can still analyze the human head balloon under these circumstances.”

Kunikida Doppo closed his notebook and looked up at Takeichi: "Being meticulous is never superfluous. Often, a meticulous attitude can guide you to make the right choice quickly when you encounter trouble, instead of being flustered and not knowing how to deal with it."

"For me, it's not just about the qualities you should have when recording ghost stories; it also helps me plan my life and maximize my efficiency," Kunikida Doppo said with a serious expression, before putting the notebook into his pocket.

"You have a point. Can we leave now? I really can't stand being next to the trash cans anymore." Zhu Yi felt like she was going to get nauseous from the stench, and even breathing had become a torment.

Takeichi glanced at Dazai Osamu and then at Kunikida Doppo, noticing that neither of them showed any change in expression.

“Something’s not right.” Zhu Yi squinted. “Are you guys stuffing something in your noses?”

"A cotton ball with a tiny bit of diluted mint water on it." Dazai Osamu took a cotton ball from his pocket, which was in a sealed bag, and handed it to the other person, blinking innocently: "Do you want it?"

"...Why didn't you take it out just now?" Zhu Yi complained as he passed by, squeezing the stuffed stuff into his nostrils, and the stench around him immediately lessened.

There was even a refreshing scent that helped to wake up my drowsy mind.

"It wouldn't be right to continue the investigation by trespassing on private property, would it?" Zhu Yi said.

"We can sneak in."

How did you sneak in?

“Pick the lock.” Dazai Osamu raised the wire in his hand.

Takeichi was stunned by Dazai Osamu's words, and he looked doubtful: "Is your Armed Detective Agency really a legitimate organization? Even if you sneak in, it's still trespassing."

"Dazai! Don't give me any random advice!" Kunikida Doppo grabbed Dazai Osamu's hand that was holding the wire, his temple vein throbbing. He turned to Takeichi and sighed, trying to make his tone sound more reliable. "Takeichi, don't listen to his nonsense. Our detective agency is a legitimate organization, of course. Lock picking is not a routine operation. This guy just doesn't want the hassle of following procedures!"

"Kunikida-kun, you're so rigid."

"But we can't use illegal methods!" Kunikida Doppo's voice suddenly rose, then he quickly lowered it for fear of attracting attention, glaring fiercely at Dazai Osamu: "In short, picking the lock is absolutely out of the question."

“Okay~” Dazai Osamu raised his hand with a grin: “Don’t be so nervous.”

"Takeichi, don't listen to what they're saying. This guy is an exception. We usually follow the rules when handling cases," Kunikida Doppo said with a serious expression.

"Yes, I understand," Zhu Yi replied with a dry laugh.

You understand? What do you understand?

Kunikida Doppo took a deep breath and once again warned Dazai Osamu with his eyes.

"As for continuing the investigation," Kunikida Doppo said, "we can ask Sato Yota for a more detailed questioning during the day."

"Okay." Zhu nodded, then asked uncertainly, "Can I go back now?"

I'll message you when the time comes.

“No problem.” Zhu Yi felt that if he stayed any longer, he would fall asleep next to the trash can.

"Then I'll be going now."

"Be careful on the road."

Zhu Yi waved his hand.

*

As night fell, the distinctive salty smell of the harbor permeated the air with the harbor breeze.

Chuuya Nakahara tugged at the choker around his neck, crushing the last enemy into the ground with his gravity. He glanced at the scattered lights of Yokohama in the distance, the Mafia's home ground under the cover of darkness, which now seemed unusually quiet.

The mission that just ended wasn't particularly difficult; it was just that I got entangled for a while with members of an arrogant rival organization at the end.

"Are you sure you don't need us to take you, Mr. Chuuya?!" His subordinate looked at him with a hint of unease and earnestness on his face.

Chuuya Nakahara tugged at the brim of his hat, saying impatiently, "Why are you worrying about this?"

He glanced around, a slight smile playing on his lips. "You guys go back first. I can walk alone. Who would dare to bump into me at this hour?"

The subordinates wanted to say something, but looking at the corpses scattered around them, they ultimately just meekly responded.

Chuuya Nakahara turned around, waved, and walked along the stone path towards his apartment.

As he walked home, Chuuya Nakahara paused when he passed a vending machine on the street corner.

I was thirsty.

Thinking this, Chuuya Nakahara took out his wallet, put in two coins, and then exchanged them for a bottle of chilled oolong tea.

He unscrewed the cap of the oolong tea bottle, tilted his head back, and took two large gulps. As the icy liquid slid down his throat, most of his fatigue dissipated.

Just as I was about to pick up the bottle and continue walking, I caught a glimpse of two blurry black dots on the horizon, slowly moving along.

Chuuya Nakahara stopped in his tracks, holding up the bottle and squinting.

Airplane? Drone? Neither seems quite right.

He frowned in confusion, finished his oolong tea, threw it into the nearby trash can, and muttered under his breath, "What is that?"

Yokohama has indeed been a bit unsettled lately, and just to be on the safe side, Chuuya Nakahara decided to fly over and check it out.

The thought had barely formed in his mind when a red light emanated from Chuuya Nakahara's body. He lightly touched the ground with his toes and soared into the air. His trench coat billowed in the air currents as he caught up with the two dark figures in the blink of an eye.

He squinted in the moonlight and saw the eerie scene clearly: a giant balloon with a human face was moving slowly, and a rope below it was tied to an unconscious man.

The face-shaped balloon seemed to notice Chuuya Nakahara. It slowly turned its body around, its dark, sunken eyes staring at him.

It opened its mouth, opening and closing it, making a whimpering sound that sounded like crying.

Chuuya Nakahara's heart sank. He frowned and said sharply, "Hey! Put him down!"

The face-shaped balloon remained unmoved; it slowly turned and flew off in one direction.

The gravity on Chuuya Nakahara suddenly increased, and he chased after the other person's figure.

"Stop right there."

Using the reaction force of gravity, Chuuya Nakahara dashed forward, his black trench coat tracing a clean arc in the wind.

The balloon with the human face was moving faster and faster, carrying people and plunging in one direction.

Seeing this, Chuuya Nakahara immediately followed and chased after him.

He recognized the direction—it seemed to be the direction of the police station.

Soon, the face-shaped balloon rushed to the police station entrance. It suddenly loosened the rope wrapped around the man, who then collapsed limply to the ground.

The next second, the face-shaped balloon disappeared without a trace, as if it had never existed.

Chuuya Nakahara landed slowly and quickly walked to the man. He reached out and touched the man's neck, feeling a steady pulse with his fingertips, confirming that the man had not suffered any real injury and had simply passed out.

But his brow furrowed even deeper, and the questions about the face-shaped balloon surged in his mind like a rising tide.

What exactly is it, and what is its purpose?

His gaze swept across the wall of the police station, where the wanted posters were prominently displayed.

The person in the photo looks exactly like the unconscious man on the ground.

Chuuya Nakahara's expression was strange. Could it be that the other party's purpose was simply to capture the wanted criminal?

Is that all?

Looking back now, it seems that the face balloon did not initially exhibit any aggressive or malicious behavior.

Chuuya Nakahara felt a surge of goodwill towards the face-shaped balloon and turned to look at the man lying on the ground.

Perhaps I really misunderstood.

"Never mind," Chuuya Nakahara muttered.

He kicked the person at his feet, but the person didn't react.

I wonder what kind of expressions those cops will have when they find the criminal they were supposed to be after standing in front of the police station during the day.

However, this was no longer his concern, and Chuuya Nakahara adjusted the brim of his hat.

A note from the author:

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