Chapter 748

13 million yen is not a large sum, at least for Tanaka Laodeng, a police inspector within the system—his take-home annual salary is 6.5 to 7 million yen. Although most of this money goes toward household expenses, given that Japanese people retire at 65, Japanese police typically see no promotion prospects by 55, voluntarily step back to second-line duties, and retire early around 60. Tanaka Laodeng has no reason to risk his career over 13 million yen. He is only 50 this year; even if calculated by stepping back at 55, he has at least five years left. At five times his take-home pay, that's at least 35 million yen needed to make the risk worthwhile—let alone the pension afterward.

What then after retirement? Can't even make ends meet?

Moreover, having such a stable job is already the dream of countless Japanese men. Tanaka Laodeng, being so traditional…

Here's a joke: in *Crayon Shin-chan*, the author Yoshito Usui already set Shinnosuke's father, Hiroshi Nohara, as a lower-middle-class character. Hiroshi Nohara graduated from Waseda University, is a young regular employee, and even a section chief (in early manga, a section head), having grown up during Japan's golden age.

So, for Hiroshi Nohara, who rode the east wind, what is his annual income?

In one episode of *Crayon Shin-chan*, it says the first prize of 130 million yen equals Hiroshi Nohara's 20 years of income, meaning his annual income should be around 6.5 million yen. The manga also confirms his take-home monthly income is about 300,000 yen, and when adding taxes, medical insurance, and the typical 3–5 months of year-end bonus common in Japan, Hiroshi Nohara's annual salary is roughly in the 6 million yen range.

This money supports his family of five and a dog, while he still carries a 30-year mortgage. Misae occasionally splurges, often running deficits—it can be said the author designed him as faithfully as possible to the lower-middle class of the time.

Yet today, Hiroshi Nohara's setup has become, for years, the "ideal husband image" for Japanese women. Entering Tokyo's dating market, this setup is like a hot cake—young women will snatch him up instantly.

Even further, in *Doraemon*, the author also designed Nobita's family as lower-middle-class, but in reality, Nobita's father, as a proper section chief of a major corporation who often plays golf and receives other company presidents, plus living in a detached house within Tokyo's wards, has a base annual income of over 8 million yen—solidly middle-class.

Thus, many people haven't experienced recession and always believe society only improves, income only rises. But for Japanese people, after experiencing a major recession, the entire nation's mindset and habits underwent a fundamental change.

Tanaka Laodeng, so conservative in character, would absolutely not risk everything for 13 million yen—130 million yen, roughly.

"Tanaka, I understand why you stayed fifteen extra minutes at the scene, and why you revealed your private money matter." Uesugi took another sip of alcohol.

"Tomorrow," he said, "I'll go check that scene."

Tanaka's eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed again.

"But now…"

"Don't think about anything now." Uesugi interrupted him, "Go home tonight, sleep well. Tomorrow, go to work if you should, do what you should. If those supervision officers come again, just say nothing—wait for my word."

He put down his wine cup and looked at Tanaka.

"Remember, from now on, every word you say could be used as evidence against you. So, besides me, say nothing." Tanaka stared at him for a long, long time.

Then he nodded heavily.

Uesugi Chief, truly a decent man!

This friend of yours—I've made a lifelong bond with him!

The two sat a while longer, slowly finishing the remaining dishes.

Finally, Tanaka Laodeng waved for the bill—total came to 5,600 yen. Such late-night diners aren't cheap, and late nights often incur service fees.

The two pushed open the door and stepped into the cold wind of the winter night.

The alley was quiet; occasionally, the distant rumble of a tram echoed.

Uesugi Muneyuki watched Tanaka Laodeng depart, and in the light and shadow of the streetlamp, Asuka and Sakura came up behind him.

"How should we put it?" Uesugi Muneyuki gently turned to look at Asuka behind him.

"He is truly feeling pain, loss, and vexation, plus fear for the future." Asuka nodded seriously; the girl spoke softly: "I feel he is not lying—he is truly afraid, afraid of middle-age unemployment, afraid of wife and children scattering, and his greatest fear is, I feel he fears losing everything he currently has."

The girl's tone carried a hint of incomprehension: "He is terrified of losing his current social standing."

"Then this is the correct reaction." Uesugi Muneyuki smiled and nodded: "Traditional Showa men were accustomed to being the family breadwinner, like a Rolex household, and thus naturally grew used to enjoying the status at home where they could summon and dismiss at will. Besides demonstrating their life's worth through work, they are not skilled at anything else."

"Huh? Really?" Sakura's eyes brightened; she slightly pouted: "I always feel that if parents don't give pocket money, they just seem annoying, unpleasant, and unwilling to understand us."

"One generation has its own generation gap, Sakura—you too. What path will you take after you're no longer an idol? Have you figured it out?" Uesugi Muneyuki smiled faintly; he is no longer an old-generation 'Shows Rolex' man unwilling to be a provider, but he still carries a trace of tradition—for instance, he insists that Shi Shi and Asuka both finish high school.

"Haven't I already figured it out?" Sakura's eyes sparkled, she stared fixedly at Uesugi Muneyuki, a flash of resentment and three parts fervor crossing her eyes, feigning pity: "Don't you want your little Sakura anymore, Uesugi-san?"

"Sigh" I knew it." Asuka drew out her voice; the girl had already sensed the pink aura radiating from Sakura-chan. You say you like Mr. Uesugi?

Bullshit!

You like him? You're just lusting after his body! You're just greedy for his social resources and Mai-sama's favor!

You're despicable!

Damn it, why am I like this too!

Little Asuka frustratedly grabbed her own hair.

Not only that, I also lust after Mr. Uesugi's body!

I am noble!

"Since we can confirm Tanaka Laodeng didn't lie to us, the answer is simple." Uesugi Muneyuki didn't overthink it: "Either someone is guarding and stealing, or someone deliberately framed Tanaka Laodeng."

"Does Uesugi-san mean the victim's family is problematic? Actually, there's no such 13 million?" Sakura pondered.

"No." Uesugi Muneyuki shook his head.

You can't impose other nations' thinking onto Japan.

In Japan, the consistent logic is to avoid causing trouble for others, so when someone truly comes forward to accuse, it already indicates a serious problem—thus, this 13 million undoubtedly exists.

Considering Tanaka Laodeng said no one else entered or exited, only two possibilities remain.

First, the apartment manager is guarding and stealing; second, there's an insider!

For Uesugi Muneyuki, the deadline is tomorrow morning at ten. In reality, he'd struggle to complete a search and reach sufficient conclusions by then—let alone the body already cremated, the scene partially cleaned by a cleaning company.

Fortunately, Asuka Saito is here!

Next morning, Otaku Police Station, Bunkyo Ward, Tokyo.

Tanaka Naoki sat behind his desk, spine straight, hands resting flat on his knees. The small-leaf fig on the windowsill glowed green in the morning light, but he had no mind to look.

Tanaka Laodeng had not slept all night.

As the wall clock ticked closer to ten, he realized he simply couldn't "do what you should." The case report lay open on the desk for an hour—he hadn't turned a single page.

9:58 a. m.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Tanaka's heart tightened sharply.

The footsteps stopped at the door.

The door was pushed open.

Standing outside were indeed the two from yesterday—Supervision Officer Kinoshita and Patrol Section Chief Kishimoto. But today, behind them followed two strangers in suits, faces Tanaka had never seen.

Kinoshita's gaze fell on his face, his tone calm as if stating the weather:

"Inspector Tanaka, time's up. What have you decided?"

Tanaka stood up, his lips moving, but he found himself unable to say what to say.

At this moment

"Kinoshita Supervision Officer, wait a moment."

A young voice came from deep in the hallway, clear and steady, yet carrying an undeniable weight.

Everyone turned toward the sound.

Uesugi Muneyuki was walking this way.

He wore a well-tailored deep gray suit today, white shirt, dark blue tie—all much more formal than last night at the late-night cafeteria. His stride was unhurried, but his gaze was sharp as a scalpel.

At his side followed a person, about forty years old, wearing glasses, face gaunt and resolute, holding a briefcase in hand, his whole body exuding an aura of "I am an official."

Kinoshita Supervision Officer's pupils contracted slightly.

"Uesugi Chief?" His tone grew more cautious, "How..."

Uesugi stopped before him, slightly turned sideways, and introduced the person at his side:

"This is the Prosecutor's Office Liaison System Section Chief, Kansei Kakushi, from the Special Mission Division of the Criminal Investigation Department, Metropolitan Police Department."

Kansei Kakushi gave a slight nod, took out his ID from his inner pocket, flashed it, then put it away.

The movement was light, but the meaning clear: I am from the Prosecutor's Office, this case, I have intervened.

Kinoshita Supervision Officer's face changed.

He could be harsh with his subordinates at the police station, handle things by the book, put on the airs of a Supervision Officer—but facing Uesugi Muneyuki?

Uesugi Muneyuki, twenty-six, Doctor of Forensic Medicine from Tokyo University, Chief Medical Examiner of the Special Mission Division, Criminal Investigation Department, Metropolitan Police Department, receiving Superintendent-level treatment. His appointment is not within the Police Affairs system, but his opinion can reshuffle any case.

He is the strictest yet gentlest father of the Metropolitan Police Department!

And the appearance of Kansei Kakushi—once the Prosecutor's Office gets involved, it means this matter may escalate from "internal discipline issue" to "criminal case"!

This is not what the Metropolitan Police Department wants to see!

Kinoshita Supervision Officer took a deep breath, his tone softer than before by three parts:

"Uesugi Chief, Kansei Prosecutor, you?"

Uesugi did not answer his question. He merely glanced at Tanaka in the office, then at Kinoshita, and said:

"Is everyone here?"

"What?"

"Those present at the scene back then." Uesugi's tone was flat: "February 3rd, the three people who examined the solitary death scene of Suzuki Tadahiko—Tanaka Inspector, Sangō Patrol Section Chief, Takahashi Patrol Sergeant. Call those two."

Kinoshita Supervision Officer was stunned.

"Uesugi Chief, we came today to handle Tanaka Inspector's surrender..."

"I know." Uesugi Muneyuki interrupted him: "But this matter was not done by Tanaka Inspector."

This statement was like a stone dropped into still water.

Everyone was stunned.

Tanaka Laodeng's eyes widened suddenly.

Not me doing it, then could it be...

Kinoshita Supervision Officer's brows knitted tightly: "What are you saying?"

"I said it." Uesugi Muneyuki looked at him, word by word: "That money was not taken by Tanaka Inspector. Someone else did."

"Someone else?" Kinoshita's tone gained a hint of disbelief: "Uesugi Chief, we investigated, the last person at the scene was Tanaka Inspector, he took leave the next day, his account gained a sum of unclear source—all clues point to him. You say someone else, do you have evidence?"

"Evidence will come." Uesugi Muneyuki said: "But first, we must call those who were present at the scene."

He paused.

"Call those two, I will tell you who it is."

"Now, call them!"

... Yes!" Kinoshita Supervision Officer fell silent for a moment, then roared at his subordinates: "Call people! Call people!"

This Supervision Officer of the Police Affairs Department, used to giving orders, hid a hint of excitement and unease.

This time, will we get to see Uesugi Chief's on-site performance again?