Chapter 737

Under the guidance of concerned individuals, the case concluded very quickly, and social attention swiftly shifted to other matters.

Three days later, early morning.

At an inconspicuous security facility somewhere in Tokyo Metropolis used for temporary accommodation and protection of relevant personnel, the iron gate opened with a soft electronic click. Hayase Marie—or rather, Hondou Marie—stood there, wearing an oversized coat that concealed the bandages on her shoulders. Her face showed little expression, her eyes holding deep exhaustion and a trace of hollowness that would not fade.

Public Security Police Officer Ozawa Sumiko, Inspector, in public security uniform, stood at the doorway. Behind her were three subordinates: Tsugawa Shoichi, Deputy Inspector; Hojo Toru, Deputy Inspector; and Hikawa Makoto, Deputy Inspector recently transferred from the Forensic Science Laboratory to the Public Security Division.

Of these four people, three had a stern demeanor, only Deputy Inspector Tsugawa showed a kind smile. Inspector Ozawa spoke formally: "Miss Hayase, based on the existing evidence and your statement, your protective detention measures are hereby lifted. These are your personal belongings. You may leave. If needed later, we will contact you again."

Deputy Inspector Hojo handed her a transparent bag containing her mobile phone, wallet, and other small items.

No apology, no explanation, just like finishing a routine duty.

This is very Public Security, because Public Security Police operate this way—they don't need to explain.

Free?

Marie took the bag, her fingers unconsciously tightening.

Just like that, free?

This is not any of the endings she originally envisioned!

No grand century trial! No label of "Hero's Daughter" or "Terrorist Accomplice" under the spotlight of ten thousand eyes! Not even many people cared!

The scene she imagined in public court, denouncing the darkness of Japan's entire judicial system, simply did not happen!

Like a stone dropped into a deep pool, it stirred brief ripples, then was quickly covered and smoothed over by a larger official narrative.

Her meticulously planned revenge, the hatred burning in her heart, her resolve to drag her father into hell at any cost—ultimately exchanged for such a bland "release"!

Did these police even understand my relationship with Hondou Atsuhito, and mine with the Red Goldfinch?

She tugged at the corner of her mouth, wanting to say she was one of the masterminds, but when she opened her mouth, the three days spent in detention still fiercely attacked her brain.

The detention center was warm, had heating, had bedding, and provided nutritionally balanced meals with both meat and vegetables.

Only freedom was lacking.

In the end, she said nothing, she grabbed the bag, lowered her head, walked through the quiet hallway, and exited this featureless building. The spring morning sunlight was somewhat glaring, the air slightly cool.

She hailed a taxi and gave an ordinary apartment address.

Tokyo taxis are expensive, but she now only wanted to indulge herself.

Returning to that familiar yet unfamiliar one-room apartment, everything remained as it was when she "was taken away," even covered with a thin layer of dust. Silence struck her face, more suffocating than in the security facility.

She closed the door, leaned her back against it, slowly slid down to sit on the floor, and buried her face in her knees. No crying, just her shoulders trembling slightly.

Is it over like this?

The past glory, a grand plan by a group of like-minded members, everyone working together to prepare the beautiful vision of sending Tokyo Metropolis to heaven—ended like this?

After an unknown time, she took a deep breath, stood up, and prepared to boil some hot water.

At that moment, her peripheral vision caught sight of someone sitting at the small dining table in the living room!

Uesugi Muneyuki.

He had entered at some point, silently and without sound.

He wore a standard three-piece suit, very clean and tidy, and also carried the unique elegance of the so-called elite class. Beside him lay a bottle of noble Suntory Low-Sugar Oolong Tea, quietly gazing out the window at the narrow sky between buildings.

Hearing the movement, he turned his head, his calm gaze falling on Marie.

Again, you?

You, are you here for revenge?

Marie's body instantly stiffened, her blood seemingly turning cold.

After a brief shock, a surge of shame and anger at having her territory invaded and being scrutinized again welled up in her heart.

She straightened her back, her face once again assuming that cold, guarded, thorny mask, and let out a cold laugh:

"Chief Forensic Uesugi? What a rare visitor! What's up? Another double gain of fame and profit, a medal within reach, still wanting to squeeze out some remaining value from the 'daughter of the former terrorist leader,' the 'fortunate victim'? Or is it that the people behind you—the Superintendent General, the Cabinet Ministers—still want to use this affair to do something? For instance, interfering in other matters under the guise of 'national security'?"

Her tone was full of mockery and self-loathing.

Uesugi Muneyuki was not moved by her sharpness; he withdrew his gaze from the window, crossed his fingers on the table, leaned his body slightly forward—this was a posture of focused listening and conversation.

He did not directly answer her question, but instead, in his habitual, steady tone, as if analyzing evidence, he put forward a statement: "I spoke with your father."

"What?"

"I spoke with your father, Hondou Atsuhito." Uesugi Muneyuki said softly: "They say women are naturally good at lying, but I didn't expect you still had lies."

Marie's pupils constricted, her cold laugh freezing on her face: "I don't understand what you're saying? I entered an unmarried woman's home alone—I can sue you for rape and illegal intrusion!"

"Regarding your relationship with your father, Hondou Atsuhito." Uesugi Muneyuki's voice was not loud, but exceptionally clear in the quiet room, he completely ignored Marie's threat: "You lied to me again."

"Your mother, Ms. Hayase Yukako, during her lifetime, despite enduring great pressure and pain, despite possibly saying resentful things aloud, deep in her heart never truly portrayed your father as a pure demon. On the contrary, she likely always conveyed to you another image of him—an idealist, daring to oppose injustice, who made mistakes but perhaps had good intentions, a 'warrior'." Uesugi Muneyuki took out a notebook, inside which were many photos and letters: "She had always, through some extremely secret and circuitous means—such as encrypted letters, via absolutely reliable relay persons—sent your messages, your photos, your growth details, secretly to your father abroad."

Marie's breathing quickened slightly, her fingers unconsciously gripping the hem of her coat.

"After Ms. Hayase Yukako passed away." Uesugi Muneyuki's gaze became even more complex: "It was taken over by Koyama Shigeo—that is, the domestic infiltrator using the alias 'Imaizumi Yukio,' a former Red Goldfinch member."

"Koyama Shigeo likely acted on your father's commission, or out of his promise to your mother, or due to his complicated feelings toward the organization's sole bloodline, and had always silently watched over you, ensuring your basic safety from afar, and reported your condition to Hondou Atsuhito through regular overseas travel updates." "This is also why your father returned to Japan immediately after learning the news."

Marie's cheek color faded, her lips turned white from pressing them together.

She neither admitted nor denied it, merely silent—that silence itself was a kind of confirmation.

Uesugi Muneyuki softly sighed, his tone eased somewhat, yet more directly pierced the core: "So, you lied to me again." "Hondou Atsuhito is not your biological father as you claim; in fact, in your heart he has long been a great hero, right?" "!!!!" Marie's face instantly turned pale, her legs went weak, she could barely stand, and quickly grabbed the wall for support.

"You even……harbored some secret admiration, longing for him, wanting to become someone like him—'who would sacrifice everything for belief'? This might also explain why you ultimately chose such an extreme, such 'like him' way to take revenge on him—you were using his most 'skilled' and most 'glorious' method, to destroy him."

"Then, what caused you to undergo such a great change?" Uesugi Muneyuki nodded: "This part I also couldn't figure out, until I asked Mr. Hondou."

"No……not like that!" Marie's voice dropped, trembling.

"What changed all of this." Uesugi Muneyuki did not stop, his words like a scalpel precisely cutting open her last defense: "It was that letter, sent from somewhere in South America a few years ago, right? Hondou Atsuhito's handwritten letter. In that letter, he did not defend his 'career,' did not recount the hardships of exile, but……repented."

"Because Koyama Shigeo told him, the sins he committed back then were being borne by you—your matchmaking always failed, corporate hiring always rejected you at background check, you lived hard but life was strained and difficult, these things Hondou Atsuhito knew, this triggered his change, in Brazil he lived well with the large sums of cash he had obtained back then, while his daughter suffered to atone for him." "He admitted his past mistakes, expressed guilt and remorse toward the victims, toward your mother, and especially toward you. He no longer believed violence could change the world as a 'warrior,' he wavered, he doubted, he even……longed for forgiveness, especially yours." "Don't say it!" Marie suddenly lifted her head, tears long accumulated finally burst, rolling down her pale cheeks: "I told you not to say it!"

"I am merely a forensic pathologist; I only need to make things clear." Uesugi Muneyuki said softly: "If I don't speak, does nothing exist?" "How could he……how could he repent?" Marie choked, her voice mixed with anger and breaking: "Mother always told me, father is a hero! A true hero who dared to oppose the whole world! ……I……I have always……but that letter……he said he was wrong, he said he regretted……then what was mother? What are these years of my persistence and……my self-righteous hatred? What is all this suffering I endured?" "That letter, that 'father'……shattered completely at once! In my heart, from that moment on, he was already dead! Killed by his own hands! So……so I had to lure him back, I want to see with my own eyes this coward, this traitor who betrayed his own beliefs, I want him to use his most cherished 'explosive art' to destroy himself, and also destroy that last ridiculous notion in my heart!"

She cried uncontrollably, pouring out years of grievance, disillusionment, anger at being betrayed, and mourning for that "dead hero": "I always thought I was justice's companion! Always always always!!!"

Justice's partner, is that it?

Uesugi Muneyuki looked at Marie's broken state, and his heart felt a little sad.

If that's the case, then am I a partner of justice?

"People always change, Miss Marie. Sometimes admitting mistakes takes more courage than stubbornly believing oneself to be a 'hero'." Uesugi Muneyuki stood up, and he opened the paper bag on the desk.

Inside were first a neat stack of banknotes bound with bank seals, each bundle worth one million yen, two bundles totaling two million yen. There was also a sealed letter, the envelope being a recommendation letter from the well-reputed, globally operating multinational trading company Tokyo Marine Holdings Kabushiki Kaisha.

"This money isn't much, but it's enough for you to temporarily settle in and cover a period of living and medical expenses. Your shoulder needs ongoing treatment." Uesugi Muneyuki spoke in his usual tone, as if explaining a small matter: "This recommendation letter, you may use it or not; Tokyo Marine Holdings has people I know, and they are currently hiring administrative staff with international trade backgrounds—your experience fits. Of course, the decision is yours."

Marie hesitated for a moment, then suddenly asked: "Why?"

"You don't need to thank me; this isn't what I truly wanted. In fact, I didn't really want to do this, because of your matter, I was scolded by the Cabinet Secretariat, and I also stirred up some trouble—Nankō even got beaten with a stick." Uesugi Muneyuki spoke softly: "In the end, it was still your father who, in his way, fought for a 'future' for you. Your mother, with her life and her words, gave you a complex 'past.' Now, the choice is returned to you. Live well, Marie Hondou—not just for yourself, but also carrying your father's share and your mother's share." "We cannot choose our birth, but you can choose how to live. Life is still long. 'Heroes' will die, faith will change, but life itself is worth beginning anew." Uesugi Muneyuki said: "Now you have a new opportunity; I hope you can cherish it well." Having said that, he no longer lingered, turned, and walked toward the door, gently pulling it open.

The morning light of Tokyo fell upon Uesugi Muneyuki's shoulder: "I hope I never see you again in this lifetime."

The door gently closed, separating the inner and outer worlds.

The apartment returned to silence, only Marie remained, standing in the early spring chill of the morning light, tears still wet on her face, before her lay two million yen and the possibility of a new job.

Outside the window, Tokyo, this vast metropolis, ordinary yet full of vitality, had just begun its day.

The fiery fireworks ultimately gave way to this stack of cold banknotes, the struggling comrades ultimately gave way to this simple recommendation letter, which is the symbol of a regular employee.

Marie Hondou slowly reached out, her fingertips touching those cold Fukuzō Yukichi notes, then tracing the fine recommendation letter.

The blurred, aged face of her father, her mother's gentle yet weary smile, Koyama Shigeo's surprise upon seeing the escort turn out to be himself, Takakura's frenzied eyes when discussing plans, Uesugi Muneyuki's calm, deep gaze—countless images flashed, intertwined, and shattered in her mind's eye.

In the end, all of this became the heavy, uncertain yet undeniably real "now" in her hands.

She tightly gripped the recommendation letter and the money, holding them close to her chest.

Although, this is actually not what I wanted………

But at least, I have grasped the future!