Chapter 44 Twenty Days of Working
For a fleeting moment, I really wanted to grab Dazai Osamu and run upstairs to catch Fyodor and that guy whose full name I didn't even remember.
Because Fyodor is so infuriating, especially when the system gave me zero pay afterwards, it made me even angrier.
However, considering that it wouldn't make much sense to do so—partly because Fyodor had probably already slipped away, and partly because I couldn't explain to others why I knew about what happened upstairs—I just thought about it briefly.
The party in the hall was still going smoothly, and before anything unexpected happened, I quietly moved to a more secluded corner.
I recalled the mundane moments I spent with Fyodor in that dark, dilapidated basement-like facility. Often, he would sit with his legs bent in a chair, coughing uncontrollably a few times, and when he had nothing to do, he would ask me if I wanted to play games.
He enjoys listening to Tchaikovsky and occasionally plays the violin himself; he plays quite elegantly.
Of course, the most elegant moment was when we were drinking black tea in a coffee shop. When we went out together, Fyodor always dressed quite elegantly and didn't look so haggard.
Thinking about it carefully, we may be considered partners who have gone through thick and thin together, but we have never been very close partners.
Thinking about this, I felt much calmer.
Ultimately, setting aside the facade of a harmonious life, Fyodor and I were never in a relationship of complete trust.
Of the dozen or so people I contacted through aliases, he was the one I was most wary of, so it was almost natural that he became the one I distrusted the least.
I've said before that Fyodor was a special person, and it still seems that way now.
I can't give him an accurate assessment, so even if I try to recall it right now, I can't pinpoint when the real problem between Fyodor and me occurred.
The atmosphere at the party was stifling, so I loosened my tie, got up, and headed for the door.
When I walked out of the building, the mafia at the entrance didn't stop me. The sky outside was very dark, and I hadn't checked the time in a long time, so I had no idea what it was.
I looked up, took a slow breath, and felt the cold wind brushing against my neck and cheeks.
After taking two more steps forward, I noticed that there was another person standing at the door.
"Mr. Zhongyuan?"
It was just a back view, but I recognized him immediately. From his hair color and hairstyle to his hat and clothes, Chuuya Nakahara's distinctive features were very clear.
"Ah." Nakahara Chuuya turned his head, and as he turned halfway to the side, I saw that he was holding an unlit cigarette in his right hand.
He noticed my gaze, glanced down at me, and then put the cigarette away.
Chuuya Nakahara asked me, "Who are you?"
I replied, "I work for Manhasset."
He raised an eyebrow: "Manhasset?"
Fitzgerald?
I nodded: "Yes."
After mentioning Mr. Francis, he actually looked me over carefully: "I should have met the men that Fitzgerald valued, but I don't remember meeting you."
I wasn't quite sure about their previous relationship, so I explained, "It's probably because I joined later."
Zhongyuan Zhong seemed to have thought of something, and glanced at me again: "...Are you their financial advisor?"
I nodded again: "Yes."
“Then I remember now, Dazai Osamu said that,” he said.
Me: "...?" How come there's Dazai Osamu here too?
I was wondering how Dazai Osamu could mention me to Nakahara Chuuya when suddenly, a loud "boom" exploded right above my head in the otherwise quiet night.
Chuuya and I looked up at the same time and saw the Port Mafia building... blown up??
I was so scared that I blinked frantically, checking repeatedly.
Yes, that's right.
The port mafia building was indeed blown up.
Chuuya Nakahara reacted faster than me. While I was still standing still, he had already used his superpower to dart up.
When I turned around, there was no one beside me. Only the mafia bosses guarding the door and I were staring at each other in bewilderment.
No wonder he's one of the five top executives of the Port Mafia.
I looked around at the smoke and dust scattered by the explosion, and I could still faintly hear the panicked shouts of the crowd coming from upstairs.
Then I immediately thought of Fyodor.
Fyodor, could this also be your doing?
****
After hearing about the bombing of the Port Mafia building during the party, I went to the company again, and everyone from Louisa to John to Mr. Francis to Montgomery asked me if I was alright.
I told everyone I was fine and that I was downstairs getting some fresh air when suddenly it exploded upstairs.
Miss Louisa said, "That's wonderful."
John said, "You're lucky."
Francis asked me more questions about the party, and I told him I didn't know anything about them.
he:"?"
He asked me, "Did you attend, Mr. Huo?"
I said, "Yes, but I was eating the whole time and didn't pay attention to anything else."
Francis: "..."
Faced with his silent gaze, I confidently spread my hands and said, "Mr. Francis, we agreed beforehand that I was just going there to relax."
“That’s true.” He walked around the bookshelf back to his desk, pulled out a chair, and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “The Port Mafia was attacked, yet they can’t even find the mastermind… I’m also very curious who could do such a thing, and what their motive would be?”
I:……
I really want to say, Mr. Francis, your questioning skills are lacking. I genuinely didn't know the answers to the questions you just asked me, but I certainly know the answers to these two rambling questions you asked me.
The mastermind was a Russian man with a very long name who liked to wear white furry hats, and his accomplice was a silver-haired guy with a name that was just as long, who was probably also Russian.
The immediate goal is to obtain the documents that record the superpowers possessed by all the ability users in the Port Mafia.
Unfortunately, due to life's circumstances, I cannot tell you.
I stood in front of him without saying a word. Francis's slightly narrowed eyes now resembled those of Fyodor and Dazai Osamu at certain moments.
To put it more broadly, it's actually a bit like Maki when she's fighting seriously; to some extent, both embody a fierce aggressiveness.
The gloom in his eyes quickly dissipated, and he said to me with a grin, "Huojun, speaking of which, you've really been working harder and harder lately."
I lowered my eyes and smiled gently: "Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Francis."
Francis continued, "You always unexpectedly put me at ease. Looking back now, I realize that hiring a consultant like you was a very wise choice."
I bowed my head and said, "It's my honor."
After leaving Francis, I went back to my office the same way I came and then checked the Yokohama Forum.
The homepage is full of discussions about the Port Mafia bombing, but that's not my focus at all. I just want to check my replies to see if my bartender identity can be passed on.
The post I made earlier has been getting replies, but every time I open it, I see kind Yokohama citizens helping to bump it up and reply.
As always, I clicked on the reply notification, and a message caught my eye: a reply from a user named Rashomon.
[I have no bartending experience, is that alright?]
I:!!!
Sure, sure, experience isn't a problem, you can do it as long as you have hands, bro!
I immediately typed a reply to him.
[Sure, our bar jobs are pretty simple and easy to learn.]
[If you're sure, you can message me privately. We can arrange a place to meet, and I can take you there.]
Since this is a forum, this Rashomon-like person probably won't reply to me immediately.
I casually clicked into his profile and took a look. He didn't post much and generally didn't participate in popular forum discussions. The few replies he did give were mostly thanking the original poster for recommending cheap and affordable bakeries and restaurants.
He seemed to be a very frugal and hardworking young man.
The more I looked, the more satisfied I became. I guessed this Rashomon-like guy was probably a thrifty high school student. Honestly, if a student wanted a part-time job, our Lupin bar would be a great place for them.
Although we have people like Osamu Dazai (?) who come to drink at our bar, most of our customers are very friendly, like Sakunosuke Oda, so the working environment is actually quite good.
I refreshed the post twice, but there were no new replies, so I closed it for now.
In the afternoon, Francis called a meeting with everyone in the company. Our company's meetings are always like this: those who are present come, those who aren't, we don't bother with.
So when the meeting room was open for the day, besides Francis and Louisa, who was never absent, only Montgomery, John, and I showed up.
John sat down next to me, and I asked him in a low voice, "Isn't Lovecraft here?"
John and Lovecraft spend a lot of time together, so I was quite surprised that it was just John today.
Not long after I arrived, Mark told me that John and Lovecraft were the only two people in the company who were inseparable. There used to be Mr. Hawthorne and Miss Margaret, but they got married and are on their honeymoon now.
“He’s not here, he went out.” John rested his chin on his hand, looking quite lazy. “If I had known, I would have gone out with him and escaped this meeting.”
I said, "Let's make up the numbers. If you don't come, it won't just be me, Louisa, Montgomery, and Mr. Francis."
He said, "It was just the three of them before, Mr. Francis, Louisa, and Montgomery. The three of them had a meeting. Montgomery said it when he was complaining that we were never in the office."
I laughed and said, "Because Miss Louisa is here."
John nodded: "Yes. As long as Louisa is there, the meeting is fine; we're all just there for show."
Francis said he wanted to have a meeting, but it ended after a short while.
During the meeting, Miss Louisa diligently took notes across from me, while John and I tapped on the table in perfect unison, earning us a glare from Montgomery, who was also across from us.
She mouthed "be quiet," then pointed to Louisa on her left, telling us not to bother her.
When the meeting ended, the four of us hadn't moved yet, but Francis had walked away very quickly.
I sat down, stretched my arms, and said, "Mr. Francis, what are you rushing off to? He seems very happy."
Montgomery said coolly, “Go to the market. There’s a discount today. He mentioned to me this morning that he wanted to get a new tea set.”
John nudged me: "I think you seem pretty happy too. You just glanced at your phone and suddenly became very happy. What's up?"
Montgomery stated, "Indeed."
I waved my hand and said, "It's nothing really. I just met up with a friend I hadn't seen in a long time, and I was happy to do so."
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