Chapter 545: , the ultimate betrayal!

Before the TNEC Plaza in Minato Ward and the nationwide screens, midsummer July, evening.

The sun slanted westward, but the lingering heat still scorched the earth, evaporating and spreading the despair on the plaza. Time flowed by minute by minute, like a dull knife cutting flesh, tormenting everyone at the scene.

After the initial tension and professional sense of crisis response, the Metropolitan Police Department's Western Suit Corps on scene gradually gave way to a sense of helpless frustration.

The SAT sniper remained on standby at the observation point, but his fingers had already left the trigger; the bomb disposal expert stared at the steady red light of the collar IED on the screen, brow furrowed, at a loss.

The mobile team members' sweat soaked through their uniforms as they maintained the police cordon, but their eyes were filled with confusion and unease—one after another, why was there no movement from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? Sugishita Ukyo, the Investigation Division 1 Chief, in the temporary command post, had a complexion so dark it seemed water could drip from it. He constantly received urging from headquarters and contradictory orders from superiors to "patiently wait." This political stalemate left him angry yet helpless.

The position of Division Chief seemed infinitely glorious, but only Sugishita Ukyo, having truly sat in it, knew what it really entailed—truly, one knows one's own warmth and coldness, with unsolvable cases, unshirkable blame, unbearable responsibility, and endless pressure.

The Division Chief position appears to hold boundless glory, but only when Sugishita Ukyo truly sat in it did he understand what's going on — one knows one's own warmth and coldness; endless unsolvable cases, endless blame to bear, inexhaustible responsibility, unending pressure.

Because, if he didn't do it, who would?

As the saying goes, "I did not seek the marquessate, but only wish for calm seas." Even the old man who spent twenty years on a deserted island still harbored enthusiasm and strength in his old age.

At this moment, Watanabe Minami led the Special Mission Unit in: "Division Chief, we need your help!"

"Did Uesugi-kun find anything?" Sugishita Ukyo's eyes lit up, and he immediately asked.

"We have made a great discovery, but this discovery may not be a good thing for our organization, so I need your help, Division Chief." Uesugi Muneyuki's eyes were somewhat dark and unclear, but he still said: "Can—fully assist us?"

"We have made a great discovery, but this discovery may not be a good thing for our Organization, so I need your help, Division Chief." Uesugi Muneyuki's gaze was somewhat obscure and inscrutable, yet he still said: "Can — you give us your full cooperation?"

Seeing the Special Mission Unit members' grim expressions, Sugishita Ukyo's eyes flickered, and he said nothing.

As night fell, the live broadcasts of the major television stations continued, but the initial explosive news had begun to ferment into a torment of waiting for a verdict. The hosts and guests of each station, from initial analysis and speculation to later repetition and emphasis, eventually also grew wordless.

"With less than an hour left until the kidnappers' set final deadline, we still have not received any public response from Akimoto Daijin—"

"This silence—does it mean a difficult choice, or—"

"Our station will continue to monitor, no matter what, Fuji TV will stay with you until the very last moment!"

Anchor Tei Reiji's voice carried a hint of uncertainty, the camera repeatedly switching between the lonely figure of Akimoto Shōta and the immobile Prime Minister's Office and Ministry of Foreign Affairs building, creating a sense of dead calm before the storm.

Female Anchor Tei Reiji's voice carried a hint of uncertainty; the camera repeatedly switched between Akimoto Shōta's lonely shadow and the motionless Prime Minister's Office, Ministry of Foreign Affairs building footage, creating a deathly stillness before the storm.

"Is the minister really ignoring his son? That's too cold-blooded!"

"Indeed! He has a guilty conscience! Doesn't dare come out to confront!"

"Could it be that everything the kidnappers' organization said is true? Is this tacit approval?"

"Shōta-kun—he looks so pitiful, he seems to really be waiting for his father to come save him."

"What about the Special Mission Unit? Special Mission Unit, help us out! Uesugi Chief, although we know you're a forensic pathologist, not a bomb disposal expert, but show some effect, okay?"

In the crowd outside the police cordon, murmurs grew louder, many holding up their phones, faces mixed with sympathy,

curiosity, and a hint of anger at being deceived. The original fear of the kidnappers began to shift in part to skepticism of political figures' cold-heartedness.

Police, cabinet, ministers—you are wasting our lives!

At the same time, in the Metropolitan Police Department Command Center.

Watanabe Eiji stood before the large screen, arms crossed, like a statue. He watched the screen as Akimoto Shōta's hoarse, exhausted cries gradually became dazed and numb, as if his soul had been sucked out.

The senior officials beside him were anxious and divided.

"Director General! We can't wait any longer! Akimoto Daijin clearly has no intention of cooperating! We must take hard measures, attempt a breakthrough or—" said Uchimura Kanji, Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department.

"A breakthrough?" Watanabe Eiji finally spoke, his voice hoarse, "Did you see that collar clearly? Any slight stimulation could make us all die with him! Moreover—this is no longer a mere police matter."

His gaze was sharp, he had long sensed this might be a sacrificial pawn strategy in a political chess game, but this coldness still sent a chill through him.

He felt himself and the tens of thousands of police under him had become mere supporting actors, bound hand and foot, in this political performance.

"The cabinet over there still hasn't reacted, perhaps—" said Ono Da Kimiaki, Director General of the National Police Agency Secretariat, standing beside Watanabe Eiji, coldly: "Just in case, why not evacuate the crowd first?"

"Hmm." Watanabe Eiji nodded slowly, he fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said: "I recall Akimoto Daijin has three sons, right?"

"Four—him and his former wife's Shōta, and his current wife has three sons." Ono Da Kimiaki said softly.

"Too bad, I only have one daughter, but now I have a son." Watanabe Eiji gazed at Akimoto Shōta on the screen.

"What a pity, I only have one daughter, but now I have a son." Watanabe Eiji looked at Akimoto Shōta on the screen.

The entire nation waited, NHK and the four major commercial broadcasters broadcast live, even if other programs aired, they would keep a small window in the lower right corner. The Metropolitan Police Department waited, waiting for the cabinet and Foreign Akimoto Daijin to make the final decision, all citizens waited, they waited, waiting for Akimoto Daijin to publicly confess his crimes, or for the explosion, and as time relentlessly advanced, everyone held their breath.

As the time approached seven o'clock, an hour, half an hour, twenty minutes, ten minutes, the imagined minister's appearance never came.

At this moment, TV Tokyo: The newborn emperor penguin chick at Higashiyama Zoological Gardens, after netizen voting, was finally named "tomorin"! The public hopes it can shine like a lamp to illuminate others! Many fans celebrated by agreeing to buy annual passes, wanting to see penguins for a lifetime!

As the clock's hands ruthlessly approached seven o'clock in the evening, only a few minutes remained, the mobile phone strapped to Akimoto Shōta's wrist lit up again.

As the clock hands ruthlessly approached evening seven o'clock, with only the last few minutes remaining, the mobile phone bound on Akimoto Shōta's wrist lit up once more.

Akimoto Shōta, like a drowning man clutching driftwood, almost lunged forward, using his trembling fingers to slide open the answer button.

"Dad?!" His voice was filled with the last hope.

From the earpiece came Akimoto Shin'ichirō's voice: "Shōta"

Upon hearing his father's voice, Akimoto Shōta's face lit up, his expression as if bathed in sunlight, and under the glare of the large searchlight beside him, his whole body was bathed in an ocean of light!

Hearing his own father's voice, light appeared on Akimoto Shōta's face; his expression was as if shrouded in the sun, under the illumination of the large searchlight beside him, his whole person bathed in an ocean of light!

However, as Akimoto Shin'ichirō spoke with a slight choking in his voice, Akimoto Shōta's hope on his face instantly solidified, then like shattered porcelain, it flaked off piece by piece. He opened his mouth, but could not make a sound; only from his throat came a "", like the noise of a broken bellows.

However, with Akimoto Shin'ichirō's slightly choked words, the hope on Akimoto Shōta's face froze in an instant, then peeled away piece by piece like shattered porcelain; he opened his mouth, yet could emit no sound, only his throat issuing a "" sound, like a broken bellows' strange resonance.

"I—I————" He wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. All his grievances, fear, despair, and guilt toward his father ultimately turned into a heart-rending, beast-like howl of pain!

"I — I — —" He had intent to speak, yet had no way to begin. All grievance, fear, despair, and guilt toward his father ultimately transformed into a heart-rending, beast-like wailing sob!

He recalled these years of his foolishness, again and again making his father clean up messes, again and again tarnishing his father's "integrity" reputation—this immense guilt flooded over him like a tsunami.

He violently threw away the phone, his hands frenziedly pounding his chest, pounding the explosives strapped to his body, his body followed as he knelt, almost collapsing to the ground.

That shattered, imageless wail, through the still-connected phone and the scene's broadcast microphone, clearly transmitted across the entire plaza, to every corner of the nation.

He no longer cursed, no longer pleaded, only pure despair remained—utterly abandoned by the one he trusted most, and self-destructive grief.

He no longer cursed, no longer pleaded; only pure despair and self-destructive grief remained after being utterly abandoned by the most trusted person.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Everyone at the scene, everyone watching the live broadcast, including the Metropolitan Police Department and those following this matter, understood something from Akimoto Shōta's reaction.

Inside the Command Center, Watanabe Eiji sighed. Indeed, Onoda Kimiaki's expression was complex; he immediately ordered: "Evacuate the surrounding crowd immediately, establish a perimeter, prepare for detonation!"

"Yes!!!"

And at the scene, the second hand mercilessly ticked toward that final number. On the plaza, the air seemed to have frozen; even the distant onlookers' whispers vanished, leaving only Akimoto Shōta's heart-wrenching, utterly despairing wails reverberating across the empty grounds, torturing everyone's nerves: "Dad! Mom! Andy! Ahhh, I don't want to die, I don't want to die aaaaaaaah!!!"

The detectives held their breath; all contingency plans seemed to have lost meaning. Superintendent Ichijo gripped the police radio tightly, his knuckles white; he knew the worst-case scenario might be unavoidable now.

Television cameras nationwide were locked dead-on on that figure beating his chest and stamping his feet in despair, awaiting the earth-shattering conclusion that might arrive at seven o'clock sharp.

Right at this critical moment, about fifty meters from Akimoto Shōta, inside the police inner control line, a young female Police Sergeant — Ishihara Kumiko — her face no longer held its usual vigor and spirit, replaced instead by an abnormal, calm mixed with determination and distortion.

No, nothing at all.

No apology, no public disclosure, not even repentance.

Nothing, at all!

No!!!

She watched Akimoto Shōta's collapse, listened to his useless howling, and felt not a shred of pity in her heart, only long-suppressed hatred and a twisted sense of justice to "act on Heaven's behalf." When Akimoto Shin'ichiro's hypocritical farewell call came through, her last trace of hesitation vanished. This system is rotten from the top down.

Now, only I myself will execute true justice!

At this tense moment when countless colleagues were staring fixedly at Akimoto Shōta, awaiting an unknown fate, she took cover behind the police car in front of her, her right hand silently reaching into her uniform's side pocket.

Only death is fair! Let flames purify everything!

Die, maggots!!!

Human trash! With your death, atone for the lives you ruined, and sound the alarm bell for this rotten world!

Her thumb, firmly and without any hesitation, pressed toward that sole, scarlet button on the detonator!

Explosion!!!

Time seemed infinitely stretched.

However, the anticipated explosion did not occur.

In the split second before her thumb would make contact with the button, several black shadows pounced out from her sides and rear like cheetahs!

The newcomers were actually??!!!