Chapter 374

Sakurada-mon Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters, Forensics Division.

The Forensics Division was empty—no one was there, whether Higashiyama Takeshi, Kamioka Hideo, or the Nakado faction had all gone out; when Uesugi Muneyuki arrived at the Forensics Division, the only sound was the low hum of the automatic coffee machine, Uesugi Muneyuki held a beautifully decorated gray-blue gift box in his hand, yet he was surprised to find that the Forensics Division was actually empty.

Who?

Uesugi Muneyuki had no choice but to sit at Mikoto-nee's workstation; at one moment, he seemed to have returned to when the two of them were still at Gunma Tokiwa Middle School, when he listened to Mikoto-nee lecture on forensic knowledge in the infirmary, and again seemed to have returned to when he had just started working at the Metropolitan Police Department, squeezed into the Forensics Division with Higashiyama and Kamioka and others in those down-and-out days—well, although it didn't last long.

Mai Xuejie's methods gave him a deep shock.

After multiple incidents, Mai Xuejie had become extremely experienced in how to create accidents; the accidents she created were by no means random coincidences; before committing an act, Mai Xuejie would carefully investigate and design a series of seemingly minor, independent, insignificant events, letting them trigger in a precise chain reaction like dominoes.

For example, the gym incident—she never directly touched anything from start to finish; all she did was control extremely minor metal fatigue or coincidental vibrations to cause the limit screw to fail, letting the steel ring in the pressure buffer device leak slightly due to lack of inspection, and she dripped a few drops of lubricating cleaner just right under the anti-slip mat.

It's only natural that a few drops of cleaner would be there after just cleaning, right? The gym equipment malfunctioned due to improper operation and lack of maintenance—quite reasonable, right?

And that female trainer—she was a familiar summoned by Mai Xuejie using cosmetic illusion techniques to simulate, but that female trainer was indeed a real person, she just didn't come to work today.

Xuejie doesn't act directly (like with a knife slash or gunshot), but instead uses the victim's surrounding environment and everyday objects as "

weapons".

Kitchen, bathroom, office, repair workshop, streets—any place could become her meticulously designed death trap.

Water, electricity, fire, gas, sharp objects, falling objects, mechanical failure, vehicle loss of control, even sunlight reflection—all could become a link in her deadly chain.

Moreover, her methods vary from person to person.

How terrifying, my Mai Xuejie.

Uesugi Muneyuki recalled still feeling some lingering fear; he had personally witnessed how Mai Xuejie designed and triggered a chain of traps—actually, Xuejie's traps don't always succeed, but she tries multiple times and usually succeeds.

This is a terrifying woman.

And what's even more terrifying is that Uesugi Muneyuki can sense the erosion of the inner world upon the outer world—that is, when you can produce massive accidental events to achieve your goal, you find it hard to care about the order and morality of the outer world.

Take, for example, a gambler who realizes that simply betting big or small can earn him a month's, a year's, or even ten years' wages—he would never want to work again; FX Warrior Hisumi, accustomed to making 5 million yen in daily forex profits (though she has to pay about 1.5 million in taxes),

finds the 50,000 yen salary she earned after struggling at a convenience store part-time job for a month utterly ridiculous.

The existence of the inner world mostly leads people down the path of self-destruction for this very reason.

This is also why Mai Xuejie lacks immersion in the outer world—she has grown accustomed to darkness; if she had never seen light (referring to meeting Uesugi),

but Uesugi Muneyuki cannot do that, or he cannot fully do that.

The reason is also very simple: if he could unleash unrivaled power and watch American fighter jets and cannons blast all the way from Seattle to North Carolina, he would certainly not care at all about the rules of the outer world.

But such inner-world existence in America would be blown away by a single SWAT headshot; if not, dispatching Apaches and F-35s would still leave inner-world existences only with violent deaths.

Indeed strong, but not strong enough!

Uesugi Muneyuki drew a line in his heart: the power of the inner world can be used, but sparingly, and one must not engage in "imaginary defense" unless the opponent is also from the inner world; otherwise, if official forces are drawn in to strike, it would be very bad indeed.

Of course, the bottom line can be flexible—let him wait until he becomes stronger in the future, then see how to adjust.

Damn, why am I not in the Heavenly God Group? Can't balance it, so straight to Human Instrumentality Project!

Familiar footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor—one by one, it was Mikoto; she had just come out of the autopsy room, still wearing a light-blue surgical gown, with a white coat casually draped over her, below were slim nine-inch pants and ankle boots, her face showing a hint of fatigue. She was lowering her head to smell her rolled-up sleeve, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Mikoto-nee." Uesugi Muneyuki softly called out to her.

"Muneyuki?!" Ishihara Mikoto saw Uesugi Muneyuki unexpectedly come to find her, her eyes instantly lit up, but then a flash of panic passed through.

"Ah! How did you come here?" She almost instinctively took half a step back, quickly raised her hand to sniff her wrist again, then somewhat awkwardly put her hands behind her back, a thin blush rising on her face: "This place—this place smells bad, I just came out from inside.

Uesugi Muneyuki stepped closer a few paces, able to smell a faint disinfectant and an indescribable, icy aura belonging to the autopsy room, but it wasn't strong, let alone anything like corpse odor.

"What I smell is only the scent of Dr. Ishihara working seriously." Uesugi Muneyuki smiled, handing the gift box to her, "For you, a little surprise."

She took the box doubtfully, untied the ribbon, lifted the lid, and upon seeing the neatly arranged, exquisitely packaged various-colored silk stockings inside, she froze, then her cheeks "swished" instantly reddened, reddening all the way to her ears; first she looked at him in disbelief, then couldn't help but laugh: "Silk stockings—like something you'd give, Muneyuki, I don't even know what I was expecting."

"These are the autopsy-room-exclusive antibacterial silk stockings produced by the Fukusoku brand." Uesugi Muneyuki said with a smile: "Silver ion antibacterial, liquid leak prevention, Mikoto-nee works so hard, she also deserves a proper reward."

"So-called reward means letting Mikoto-nee wear silk stockings inside her autopsy pants?" Ishihara Mikoto touched,

feeling the thickness was probably around 80D, the texture very soft and comfortable, the deep-sea gray color also quite versatile for the workplace, plus perhaps it really does have antibacterial, hip-lifting, and leak-prevention effects—barely feeling Uesugi Muneyuki's sincerity, but she quickly snorted and pulled out from the box the thick-wood ultra-thin micro-pearl silk stockings and the gray-bottom silver-striped patterned raised-flower silk stockings: "Are these also meant to be worn during autopsy?"

"The working Mikoto-nee should wear armor to protect truth and the dignity of the deceased; the Mikoto-nee who takes off her armor is a cute woman worthy of gentle treatment." Uesugi Muneyuki said softly: "Did you go help with the autopsy again?"

"I just" Mikoto instinctively wanted to explain, she actually now faces the same problem as Uesugi Muneyuki—

She temporarily lost her forensic qualification due to resignation, so her actual dissection is illegal, or rather cannot serve as legally valid evidence.

This is actually quite common in Japan (too few forensic pathologists), everyone usually doesn't care, but just fear the scale.

"You don't need to explain, Mikoto-nee, I still can't not understand you?" Uesugi Muneyuki shook his head: "You love this job,

this is still what you taught me, Mikoto-nee's flavor is the flavor of professionalism and courage, I will only feel at ease, go ahead and do it—I will always stand behind you supporting your dreams."

The famous philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said: "What you love is your life."

"Hmm." Mikoto looked at Uesugi Muneyuki with relief, her eye sockets seeming slightly moist; that bit of inferiority was dispelled not a little by Uesugi Muneyuki's words, replaced by a feeling of being understood and moved, and shy. She gently bit her lower lip, wanting to say something, but ultimately just lightly returned his grip on his big hand, softly saying: "———Thank you. So thoughtful—I will wear it well."

She truly loves forensic medicine, loves dissection, loves listening to the whispers of the essence, speaking of that buried truth; no matter what, she has no intention of giving up her career—this is also why she chooses to wander in Tokyo, otherwise, with her looks and beauty,

how could she possibly endure a life of drifting and displacement?

On this point, she is actually somewhat like Eirina—neither wants to return to family, both firmly love their careers and regard them as the realization of self-worth,

yet Japan's post-feminist era and extremely difficult workplace environment make her struggle to move forward; Eirina chose to persist, Mikoto chose to give up, and Minami chose love and career—I want them all!

"Come, hug, my Mikoto-nee is not at all unpleasant to smell—most fragrant." Uesugi Muneyuki opened his arms.

"Is that what you call support?" Mikoto snorted, obviously quite pleased; she took out a lychee-flavored lip balm from her bag, about to apply it to her lips and then give him a fragrant kiss, when she heard the sound of someone pushing the door open and coming in.

"Ah!" Mikoto was startled, like a frightened deer instantly jerking her hand back, quickly fastening the silk stocking gift box tightly to her chest, simultaneously swiftly stepping back one step, opening the distance between them, the blush on her face not faded, but her gaze had already switched back to the calm composure of work.

"I won't find anything strange on the autopsy table." Nakado faction walked in from outside holding a board of autopsy records, picked up the lip balm Mikoto had dropped while holding the box: "Lover's trash, please dispose of properly, otherwise it will be treated as medical waste and thrown away together."

"Oh, my Nakado Sang, I heard you like listening to classical music when dissecting? Need or don't need I play Bach's G-string aria, and by the way tell you humans have three great desires?" Uesugi Muneyuki teased.

"I know, for example, the demon of the Ooku harem men at Sakurada-mon." Nakado faction rolled his eyes at his messy hair: "Anything up?"

"Nothing for now." Uesugi Muneyuki said meaningfully.

"Nothing for now???" Nakado faction really wanted to smash Uesugi Muneyuki's face in, but because this guy always finds unbelievable explanations for problems and often has divine-like arguments, he could only say: "Then I'm going to catch up on sleep—do I need to close the door?"

"No need, I have something to discuss with Mikoto-nee."

At the same time, the upscale gym in Ebisu, Shibuya Ward, Tokyo.

Several police cars were parked downstairs, and patrol officers with their hands behind their backs had cordoned off the entire scene with police tape.

Acting Unit Chief Itami Kenichi of the Fifth Section was reviewing the gym's surveillance footage, his face filled with confusion.

"This is strange—there's no trace of Lady Sachiyo in the nearby subway surveillance, so how did she end up appearing nearby?"

At that moment, a subordinate came to report: "Assistant Police Inspector! We've found Lady Sachiyo! She's off duty today and is at Chiba Disneyland! She has an alibi!"

"What?!?"

At the same time, Jin Kashiwagi of the Third Section stared at the bloodstain pattern on the ground, subconsciously clamping his legs together: "Spray radius of 4

meters—this is an arterial rupture!"

"Strange—the key limiter screw is loose, combined with the buffer steel ring leaking, and then coincidentally, someone accidentally dripped a few drops of cleaning fluid while mopping this morning, causing lubrication."

"How could there be such a strange coincidence in the world? Not even a one-in-a-million chance!"

Detective Kashiwagi's demon-hunting badge rang.

This matter must involve suspicious circumstances!

Huff—Uesugi is currently unable to handle the case normally!

My opportunity has just arrived! Watch my performance!