Chapter 654

Several black luxury sedans, sirens silent but speed extreme, raced northeast on the Shuto Expressway Bayshore Route toward Ibaraki Prefecture.

Dark gray clouds hung low, portending afternoon rain; a biting wind swept past the car windows, emitting a dull howl.

In the driver's seat of the lead vehicle, Inspector Kashiwagi Jin was driving excitedly, yet his taut jawline showed he had been wanting to speak but stopping himself; in the front passenger seat, Uesugi Muneyuki quietly watched the industrial zone scenery flying by outside the window, unconsciously fiddling with an unlit pen-style flashlight in his hand — his habitual thinking gesture.

Hearing that Uesugi had come back, Kashiwagi Jin was so excited that even his underwear could not stay dry.

He repeatedly requested to share a car with Uesugi Muneyuki; Uesugi Muneyuki, seeing Old Ren so enthusiastic, and then recalling the kindness of Kashiwagi Misa, ultimately agreed to his wish.

The silence on the road lasted a stretch; finding an opening, Kashiwagi Jin finally spoke slowly, his voice clear despite engine and wind noise: "Uesugi, regarding this Kurashiki Tetsuya — what do you think?"

He did not turn his head, as if talking to himself: "The only son of the boss of the Violent Gang Kurashiki-gumi, raised in luxury since childhood, living in a luxury mansion, attending private schools, his pocket money probably exceeds the monthly salary of us public servants. The result? He ran off to mix with a bunch of poor students shouting about smashing the old world, stole his old man's gun, and is now suspected of involvement in the assassination of a former National Diet member, former Deputy Minister?"

He sneered, that laughter filled with absurdity and a hint of hard-to-detect weariness: "What is this supposed to be?"

A yakuza version of Crime and Punishment? Or the wealthy class's adolescent rebellion extended to the point of wanting to kill their own father? Truly — absurd as hell."

Uesugi Muneyuki's gaze withdrew from outside the window and settled on Kashiwagi Jin.

He was silent for a few seconds, then replied in his consistently steady, emotionally flat tone: "Kashiwagi-san, you find it absurd, perhaps because you stand on the side of order and view disorder from there."

He paused: "But from criminal psychology and individual motive analysis, Kurashiki Tetsuya's choice is not strange at all; it even has its own internal logic."

"Oh?" Kashiwagi Jin finally tilted his head slightly, glancing at Uesugi Muneyuki through the rearview mirror: "I'd like to hear your insight."

Old Ren still very much likes chatting with Uesugi; it's a pity opportunities are few.

"First, you mentioned 'raised in luxury since childhood'." Uesugi Muneyuki's tone was like an academic exposition: "Precisely such affluent material conditions provided the capital for his rebellion."

"When a person need not worry about tomorrow's food and clothing, basic survival security, his energy and attention can shift from 'how to survive' to higher-level questions like 'why live' and 'what is the meaning of living' — questions more prone to confusion and pain. Kurashiki Tetsuya did not have to struggle for a livelihood job like truly underclass youth; he had ample time and financial leeway to encounter various ideas, including radical theories that fiercely criticize the existing system and negate his father's generation's way of survival."

Speaking here, Uesugi Muneyuki also couldn't help but smile faintly.

Hot-blooded youths full of grand-narrative indignation, once they enter society and start working, everything begins to change.

Fine young men, amid overtime and busyness, quickly learn to smoke, learn to drink; reading material shifts from Hegel, Kant, and Fichte to 'I'm in a Chinese Drama, Married Liu Tiansen at the Start'; the only thing they want to do after work every day becomes lying in bed scrolling on their phone, opening the computer is just Delta Force Delta Force Delta Force.

He adjusted his sitting posture slightly, continued: "Second, and more crucially — the yakuza original sin. Kurashiki Tetsuya's blood flows with a lineage he cannot choose. In the eyes of mainstream society, even in legal definition, his father is a criminal, society's filth. This innate stigma, for any young person with a sensitive mind who has received modern rule-of-law equality education (even at a third-rate university), is a tremendous psychological burden and source of shame. The more carefree his life, the more intense the cognitive tear of 'my affluent life is built on filthy crime' may be."

Outside the window, a cluster of abandoned factories swept past; rusted steel skeletons looked especially desolate under the gray sky.

"Therefore, his throwing himself into the so-called revolution, stealing the firearms symbolizing his father's power and crime, the deep motive is very likely not simple political belief, but an extremely intense act attempting self-purification and patricide (in symbolic meaning)."

Uesugi Muneyuki's voice remained calm, yet it dissected flesh and blood: "What he hates is not only the old system, but more directly the source that gave him both life and shame — his father, and the dark world his father represents. By joining a group that claims to sweep away all old filth, and using the power (gun) stolen from his father, he perhaps in fantasy completes the cleansing of his own original sin, and proves he is fundamentally different from his father's generation, that he is clean, noble."

Uesugi Muneyuki's voice remained calm, yet he cut through flesh and blood: "What he hated was not only the old system," but more directly, the source that gave him life and disgrace—his father, and the dark world his father represented. By joining a group claiming to sweep away all old filth, and using the power (the gun) stolen from his father, he might, in fantasy, cleanse his own original sin and prove himself utterly different from his forefathers—pure and noble.

He had to admit, Uesugi Muneyuki's analysis hit the core, far more profound than his simple "absurd" judgment.

"As for the so-called 'poverty breeds cunning, wealth nurtures conscience' —" Uesugi Muneyuki shook his head lightly: "This saying is misunderstood by many. It does not say poverty necessarily breeds evil, wealth necessarily breeds goodness. Rather it describes a social reality: when basic survival pressure occupies the vast majority of an individual's mind, conscience, ideals, spiritual pursuits — things that require leeway to nurture — are often squeezed out or even annihilated."

"Kurashiki Tetsuya's conscience or ideals may be twisted, dangerous, but the soil that nurtured them is precisely the affluence provided by the father's generation he hates. This is a tragically ironic vicious cycle."

As Father Uesugi Hironori said, for the underclass groups as a whole one must hold sympathy, but for specific individuals one must absolutely maintain vigilance and distance.

It's not that being poor makes one right; many people hold a very strong filter for the laboring masses at the bottom of society, but only when they truly come into contact with these people do they often understand the bottom-layer logic of how society operates.

Not to mention anything else, just take an ordinary urban-rural renovation crew as an example; only after contact do you know how difficult these people are.

Too lax, and they will cut corners, drag out the schedule by padding hours, raise prices midway, muddle through carelessly.

Too strict, and they will retaliate by doing shoddy work, booby-trap the renovation site or even hide feces sealed inside walls, deliberately pick fights, sabotage maliciously.

They aren't smart, but they are cunning; they are short-sighted, and very greedy.

Honest, simple, dutiful and 'don't steal don't steal, I just picked it up' can appear in the same peasant; 'one person doesn't enter a temple, two don't view scenery, three don't hug a tree' — these are all countless bloody experiences; warmly taking out everything at home to entertain a female volunteer teacher, and locking the door not letting the female teacher leave, saying our family lacks a daughter-in-law so son hurry up and act — can also be the same person.

Honest, diligent, and thrifty, along with "Don't steal, don't steal, I picked this up," can coexist in the same peasant. Not entering temples, not viewing scenery, not embracing trees—these are countless bloody experiences. Warmly offering all household possessions to entertain the visiting female teacher, and locking the door to prevent her from leaving, saying our family needs a wife so the son should act quickly—these can all be the same person.

But this isn't their fault; as said before, when the underclass's every purpose is just to survive, to compete for those few resources for survival, people naturally become like this; it is the social environment shaping people.

But this is not their fault, as previously stated, when the lower class's sole purpose is merely to survive, to scramble for those meager resources needed for survival, people naturally become this way—it is the social environment shaping people.

Kashiwagi Jin let out a long breath, rubbed his brow: "— Listening to you put it like this, it feels even more troublesome. This isn't just arresting a group of armed thugs; it's practically handling a mental explosives pack full of self-destructive tendencies. And his father —"

He recalled Kurashiki Tetsuya's eyes in the car, mixed with rage, despair, and pleading.

"Yeah." Uesugi Muneyuki's gaze returned to the window; in the distance, Jōsō City's silhouette loomed faintly under the dark clouds: "So, today's operation must not only stop violence, but may also face the climax of a family tragedy. Inspector Kashiwagi, when commanding, please consider this more. A living, speaking Kurashiki Tetsuya is worth far more than a corpse — whether for the case, or for that father who may still love him."

"Yes." Uesugi Muneyuki's gaze returned to the window, far away, the outline of Jōsō-shi faintly visible beneath the clouds: "So today's action must not only stop violence, but may also have to face the climax of a family tragedy. Police Inspector Kashiwagi, when commanding, please consider this more. The living, speaking Warehouse Stone Junxiong is worth far more than a corpse—whether for the case, or for that father who may still love him."

This forensic pathologist known for calmness even coldness, at this moment displaying humanistic insight, gave him a deeper level of understanding of this colleague, one of the "Two Pillars of the Metropolitan Police Department".

This is not merely a scientist's logic, but a profound fathoming of human nature.

Yet it also makes one feel cold.

Half seawater, half flame.

The two of us make up the entire Metropolitan Police Department!

"Understood." Kashiwagi Jin's voice turned firm and cold-hard again: "I'll do my best. But on the premise that he and his accomplices don't point their muzzles at my subordinates."

The convoy exited the expressway, racing toward that abandoned repair factory hiding secrets, crimes, and twisted kinship.

Outside the car window, early winter's first cold rain finally fell, pattering down.

Edge of Jōsō City, Ibaraki Prefecture, inside a cramped one-room cheap apartment.

Curtains tightly drawn, light dim; the air permeated with the smell of cheap bento and lingering cigarette smoke.

Young Kurashiki Tetsuya sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, mechanically picking at a convenience-store fried chicken cutlet bento. Heavy dark circles hung on his gaunt face, yet his eyes were abnormally bright, fixed on the small LCD television before him.

The news anchor was reporting in a grave tone the "Mitaka City Former Deputy Minister Shooting Incident"; a flash of the police offering a reward for clues.

"Hmph, these bureaucrats' running dogs, what can they find out?" Beside him, the crew-cut, burly Fujisaki Tatsuya sneered, crushing the empty bento box: "Used the old man's 'treasure', clean and neat."

"Right, Junxiong-ni's plan is flawless." The other, bespectacled and slightly frail-looking Fujisaki Kenji pushed his glasses, tone ingratiatingly excited: "Those forums online, though they dare not say it outright, are all guessing it was us Sakawa who did it. Effect achieved."

Kurashiki Tetsuya didn't reply, but the corner of his mouth hooked a twisted satisfaction.

On TV, the victim Akiyama Tadashi's ferocious face advocating exclusionism in life overlapped with the ferocity he remembered of his father Kurashiki Tetsuya.

Eliminating such "trash" gave him a drained sort of pleasure and a sense of "purification".

The ferocious face of the victim Akiyama Zhongzhong on Television, blowing xenophobia in his lifetime, overlapped with some of the ferocity in his memory of his father Kurashiki Tetsuya.

Clearing away such "Trash" gave him a kind of Exhaustion-like pleasure and "Purification" Sensation.

Let the bullets purify everything!

He put down his chopsticks, picked up an encrypted, modified laptop beside him, fingers sliding rapidly across the trackpad, logging into a darknet interface requiring multi-layer relays.

The contact list contained only one codename: "Sakamoto Ryoma".

He typed the message, characters glowing faintly on the dark background: "Target eliminated. Social response matches expectations. Next instruction? Who is next on the list? |

Send complete, he stared at the screen, breathing slightly quickened.

The Wisteria Cape Brothers also gathered around; in the dim room, only the computer screen's light illuminated three young faces written full of obsession and danger. Awaiting "Mentor" Sakamoto Ryoma's reply, deciding the next name to be swallowed by the "Revolutionary Purification" wave.

"Mentor" replied very quickly.

The next target is——Saito Asuka!

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