Chapter 779

Love came too fast, like a tornado!

Watanabe Eiji sat on the sofa in the living room, the TV still looping CNN news, but he could no longer focus. The TV was playing the news:

"The commander of Iran's Revolutionary Guard Corps, Said-Rees, was killed in an airstrike."

"U. S. Army Major General Ethan Winters was seriously injured by a Taliban missile strike at the Fifth Fleet's base, resulting in the amputation of one hand."

"U. S. Air Force Captain Chris Redfield suffered a severe ankle sprain during operations in the Arabian Sea."

"Diplomat Vyacheslav Barannikov of the Russian Embassy in Tehran was killed in the airstrike, Colonel Anton-Yudinchev of the 78th Infantry Regiment was killed in the airstrike, and Nikita Buyakov, CEO of the private security company 'Tacov,' was killed by shrapnel to the eye from Houthi weapons during evacuation organization."

"President Wang Yu Zhong of the private military contractor 'Griffin' was seriously injured while covering the evacuation of Somali civilians, hospitalized for resuscitation, and during a subsequent journalist interview, he held up two fingers to indicate he had only two magazines left."

Various major news stories continued nonstop, but Watanabe Eiji could not concentrate at all, his hand still covering his face, his fingertips feeling the coolness of his skin.

He recalled that this evening, he had still been sitting in this spot reading the newspaper, turning to the society section, still thinking that there was no major news today, so he could rest early.

Calm seas and clear rivers, peace in all directions, all nations paying tribute, the world tranquil!

Kantou Peace Edict!

Now he knew what "major news" meant.

At that moment, his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID: one one, Police Commissioner General, Tamaru Juzaburo.

Watanabe Eiji took a deep breath and pressed the answer button: "This is, Watanabe."

"This is Tamaru." The other party said.

"Commissioner Tamaru!" Watanabe Eiji realized his voice was calmer than he had expected.

On the other end of the line, it seemed they had not anticipated Watanabe Eiji's calmness, took a deep breath, just like Onyxia preparing to inhale deeply: "Watanabe, my Police Commissioner General! The people's Police Commissioner General! Why haven't you reported this?"

Watanabe Eiji was stunned for a moment.

Report?

What report?

Oh, right, report.

"Commissioner Tamaru, sorry." He could only force himself to say: "I... I only found out from the news."

The other end of the line fell silent again.

This silence lasted longer, so long that Watanabe Eiji could hear Tamaru Juzaburo's breathing—one by one—heavy and ragged, like after a hundred-meter sprint.

"You are the Police Commissioner General! Not me being the Police Commissioner General!" Tamaru Juzaburo's voice was pressed low, but the suppressed anger and panic still seeped through: "The Kanagawa Prefectural Police are under your jurisdiction. With this kind of incident, you tell me you only found out from the news?"

Watanabe Eiji opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but realized he had no idea what to say.

He wanted to say, the Kanagawa Prefectural Police is under the jurisdiction of the Kanagawa Prefectural Public Safety Commission, and although I now hold the title of Kantō Joint Police Superintendent, the Metropolitan Police Department only has a business guidance relationship, and without a case, I have no reason or qualification to give guidance; if there were a case, he could indeed summon the department heads to indirectly command the investigation, and then reuse the National Police Agency's authorization to dispatch the Special Mission Division or other police for cross-jurisdictional law enforcement. He wanted to say, the National Police Agency is the supreme leadership organ of the national police system, and when such an incident occurs, the first to be held accountable should be you guys from the National Police Agency—you are the ones who oversee the Kanagawa Prefectural Police Headquarters!

He wanted to say, the Kanagawa Prefectural Police are under the Kanagawa Public Safety Commission, although I currently hold the title of Kantou Joint Police Superintendent, but the Police Command is merely an operational guidance relationship, and without cases, I have no basis or qualification for guidance; if there were cases, I could indeed summon the headquarters chiefs to indirectly command investigations, then utilize Police Commissioner General approval to dispatch the Special Mission Division or other police for cross-jurisdictional law enforcement. He wanted to say, the Police Commissioner General is the highest authority of the national police system; when such an incident occurs, the first to be held accountable should be you, the Police Commissioner General, you are the ones who oversee the Kanagawa Prefectural Police Headquarters!

But he said nothing.

Because saying these things now would only seem ridiculous.

TMD, why are things in Kanagawa always so terrible!

"Commissioner Tamaru, now is not the time to discuss this." He finally said only this: "I will handle it immediately."

"How to handle it? Tell me how to handle it!" Tamaru Juzaburo's voice finally broke: "Hasn't the U. S. side already reported this, you know? Hasn't social media already exploded, you know? YouTube, Facebook, INS, Twitter, and even Associated Press, Agence France-Presse, TASS... the Prime Minister's Office should also have someone"

His words were cut off, and another voice came through the phone.

Very muffled, content indistinct, but Watanabe Eiji recognized the tone as a secretary reporting an emergency.

Then Police Commissioner General Tamaru Juzaburo's voice returned.

"Hold on, I'm taking another call."

The phone was hung up.

In this system, although he is the Superintendent General, the highest official of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, and the second-in-command in the Japanese Police System after the Director General of the National Police Agency, in the eyes of those true power centers, he is merely a "clerk".

In this system, although he is the Police Commissioner General, the highest official of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, and the second-in-command in the Japanese Police System after the Police Commissioner General, in the eyes of the true power centers, he is merely a "clerk."

Police Commissioner General Tamaru Juzaburo is an "official," the pinnacle of national civil servants, a political appointee of the Cabinet, while Watanabe Eiji is a "clerk," a career police officer turned administrative bureaucrat, an administrative official.

This nation's system is just like that: "officials" set direction, "clerks" handle execution. When problems arise, "officials" answer to the Diet, apologize to the people, and resign if necessary.

Meanwhile, "clerks" bear the blame, are pushed out as scapegoats, bow and apologize at press conferences, then are reassigned to idle posts or forced into early retirement.

He lowered his gaze to his hands. These hands, this evening, had still been holding the newspaper, turning to the society section, thinking there was no major news today. "Michiko, give me my clothes, I'm going to the Police Commissioner General's Office right now!" Watanabe Eiji shouted sternly: "A major incident has occurred!"

"Okay... okay!" Watanabe Michiko said flusteredly: "Should we notify Sōsetsu and Minami?"

"No... things have come to this point; if notification is needed, it's not up to us to do it!" Watanabe Eiji gritted his teeth fiercely.

Is the Japanese Police doomed?!

At the same time.

Police Commissioner General Tamaru Juzaburo's phone also rang.

It was National Public Safety Commission Chairman Nanko Taro.

"Commissioner Tamaru! What on earth is going on?!" Nanko Taro was clearly angrier than Tamaru, he directly shouted at the Police Commissioner General: "Why haven't you reported to me?!"

"Chairman, I also only found out from the news!" Tamaru Juzaburo hastily explained in a low voice: "The Police Commissioner General said he didn't know either, it seems Kanagawa side had another problem..."

The other end of the line fell silent for two seconds.

Then he heard Nanko Taro curse.

"Bah! Why are things in Kanagawa always so terrible?!"

Tamaru Juzaburo swallowed a mouthful of saliva, he knew things were getting complicated.

"You two," Nanko Taro's voice was pressed low, but each word felt like a nail driven in: "One Police Commissioner General, one Police Commissioner General, with such a major incident, you tell me you both only found out from the news?"

The Police Commissioner General didn't know what to say.

"Do you know what time it is now?" Nanko Taro asked again.

【61】 Tamaru glanced at the clock on the wall.

At 11:15 PM, converted to American time regardless of time zone—whether it was already morning or morning news—but there was no doubt Americans were already awake.

"I know." He said.

"You know jack shit!" Nanko Taro's voice finally broke: "If you knew, you shouldn't have found out from the news. What are your National Police Agency and Metropolitan Police Department intelligence systems even for? Photos from the dark web are circulating in the U. S., U. S. TV is airing them, the U. S. government is holding press conferences, the whole world is watching, and you guys don't know?"

Tamaru's temples began to twitch.

"Nanko Chairman"

"Enough!" Nanko Taro interrupted him: "You come to Nagatacho immediately. Call Watanabe. Now, right away."

The phone hung up.

"Get the car! Get the car!!!" Tamaru Juzaburo's shrill shout echoed especially loudly in the official residence, even waking his little grandchild.

Nagatacho.

This place name, in Japan, signifies power.

The Prime Minister's Office, the National Diet, and all central ministries are concentrated in this area. During the day, it's filled with flowing carriages and horses, bureaucrats in Western suits and leather shoes hurrying past, journalists staked out at various gates, waiting to catch fragments of big figures' words.

But Nagatacho at 11:45 PM is another scene entirely.

The streets are empty and deserted, with only an occasional taxi driving by.

The streetlights along the road cast a dim yellow glow, illuminating the closed shops and silent office buildings. Only the lights of the Prime Minister's Office remain on, like an isolated island in the night. When Watanabe Eiji's car stopped at the official residence's gate, Tamaru Juzaburo's car also arrived just then.

The two locked eyes, neither speaking.

They walked in together.

Inside the official residence, it was livelier than outside. Secretaries small-ran back and forth in the hallways, holding documents in their hands, their faces showing the unique fatigue and tension of all-nighters. The conference room door was open, and voices could be heard from within.

Watanabe Eiji and Tamaru Juzaburo walked in.

Nanko Taro sat at one end of the long table, with a cup of tea already gone cold in front of him.

He raised his head, looking at these two people, his gaze complex and hard to describe.

"Sit."

The two sat down.

There were still a few people in the conference room.

Deputy Chief Secretary of the Cabinet Secretariat, Prime Minister's Secretary, Director General of the North America Bureau of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and Director of the Criminal Affairs Department of the Police Agency, Mouri Takayoshi, were also present.

Everyone's face bore the same expression—fatigue, tension, and a hint of fear not easily noticed.

"Tell me." Nanko Taro spoke: "How much do you know?"

Watanabe Eiji opened his mouth, looking toward Tamaru Juzaburo.

Tamaru Juzaburo also looked at him.

The two said nothing.

Nanko Taro waited three seconds.

"You two," his voice rose slightly, "one is the Police Agency Director General, one is the Superintendent General, such a big thing happened, I called you here, you're sitting here, I ask you what's going on, and you say nothing?"

Watanabe Eiji took a deep breath.

"Nanko Chairman," he said, "we currently……don't have a clear grasp of the situation."

Nanko Taro froze for a moment: "Not clear?"

"It's on TV, spreading online, the U. S. side has already exploded, and you tell me you don't know?"

Watanabe Eiji said nothing.

Tamaru Juzaburo spoke: "Nanko Chairman, this matter……we also just received the information. Specific details are still being ascertained." Nanko Taro looked at him, his gaze complex and hard to describe.

"You are the highest-ranking officials of the police." He said, voice lowered: "With this kind of incident, you tell me you only just found out?"

Tamaru Juzaburo dared not make a sound.

Nanko Taro leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling.

"Good! Very good!" he said, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness: "Then tell me, what do you know now? Say what you know." Watanabe Eiji thought for a moment.

What he knew was actually not much different from what was on TV: a Kanagawa Prefecture police officer, likely a forensics division member, had taken photos of an American woman's corpse, sold them to the dark web, the photos included foreigners, and the U. S. side had exploded.

But he also knew Nanko Taro wasn't asking for that.

Nanko Taro wanted the inside story—who that police officer was, which department he worked in and for how long, how many photos he took, who he sold them to, why he wasn't discovered, whether he had accomplices, whether superiors covered for him, whether there were systemic problems.

And these, he did not know.

"Nanko Chairman," Watanabe Eiji said with difficulty: "The information we currently hold is similar to the media's. Specific details……still need investigation."

Nanko Taro looked at him.

"Need investigation?" he repeated: "Now it's midnight, it's daytime in the U. S., the whole world is watching, the Prime Minister is arriving soon, and you tell me we need to investigate?"

Watanabe Eiji didn't know what to say, and the conference room fell silent for a few seconds.

Nanko Taro, angry, loosened his tie.

"Fine, fine!" he said: "You now, immediately, right away, go gather information. Call your people, find out exactly what's going on. Who is that officer, what did he photograph, how long has he been selling it, are there foreigners, how many, which countries. I need details, the more detailed the better."

He paused: "Before the Prime Minister arrives, I need to know!"

"I need to know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Nanko Taro practically roared, face flushed red, as if facing the Clawsius Empire.

"Hi ya!!!" Watanabe Eiji and Tamaru Juzaburo locked eyes, then stood up simultaneously.

At that moment, urgent footsteps came from outside the door.

The door was pushed open.

Yamada Prime Minister walked in.

He wore a dark suit, his tie tied neatly, his hair perfectly in place, completely unlike someone who had just been woken in the middle of the night.

But Watanabe Eiji saw his eyes—those eyes held a sharpness and shock that only appears in crisis moments.

Behind the Prime Minister followed two people.

Foreign Minister Isayama, Finance Minister Hanzawa.

Foreign Minister Isayama is in his early fifties, with a round and plump figure like Oowada's, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, a typical bureaucrat from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Finance Minister Hanzawa is a bit younger than him, not tall, but with a strong presence, standing there with an aura of "I'll solve the problem." The three walked into the conference room, and everyone in the room stood up.

Prime Minister Oowada waved his hand, gesturing for everyone to sit down.

He walked to the main seat at the long table, sat down, and swept his gaze over everyone present.

"Speak." He said, his voice not loud, but everyone heard him clearly: "What's going on?"

Nanko Taro was about to speak when Foreign Minister Isayama spoke first.

"Prime Minister." His voice was solemn, but he seemed somewhat lacking in confidence: "The United States has already sent a formal note."

Since Former Foreign Minister Akimoto fell, Diet member Isayama took over as Foreign Minister, but he lacks a power base and needs time to control the entire department, and on top of that, the previous scandal has made him somewhat hesitant.

The air in the conference room seemed to solidify for a moment.

"Who sent it?" Oowada asked.

"It was from the Office of the Vice President of the United States." The newly appointed Foreign Minister Isayama said: "Vice President Zhamuq He-D-Horel Chi personally signed it." Watanabe Eiji froze for a moment.

Zhamuq He-D-Horel Chi, upon hearing this name, is the Vice President of the United States, very young, under forty, with a round face and full beard, having served in the Marines, graduated from Ohio University, and previously worked at Yale Law School, known for his hardline stance, with strong influence on Capitol Hill. This person personally signing the note means the nature of the matter is more serious than they imagined.

"What's the content?" Oowada asked.

Isayama took out a document from his briefcase and opened it.

"The wording is very formal, but the core meaning is only one sentence: Ichiran hopes the Japanese government will thoroughly investigate this matter, give an explanation to the victims' families, and give an explanation to the international community."

He paused, his voice trembling slightly: "If translated more directly, one of your people filmed our citizens, you must take responsibility." The conference room fell silent for a few seconds.

Prime Minister Oowada did not look at the document. He turned his head and looked at Nanko Taro.

"Nanko-kun."

"You are the Chairman of the National Public Safety Commission."

"Such an incident occurred in the police system, why didn't you report it?"

Nanko Taro's expression changed.

The change was subtle, but Watanabe Eiji noticed it—it was the embarrassment of being publicly questioned, the helplessness of knowing he was at fault but unable to defend himself.

"Prime Minister," he said: "I also found out from the news."

Prime Minister Oowada looked at Nanko Taro, his facial muscles twitching, that feeling of extreme anger bordering on laughter—like the look of "Are you joking with me?"

"Reading the news." Oowada repeated: "You are the Chairman of the National Public Safety Commission, the head of the highest body supervising the national police, and when such an incident occurs, you tell me you found out from the news?"

Nanko Taro opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Then what about the National Police Agency?" Oowada turned to Tamaru Juzaburo: "Tamaru-kun, you are the Director General of the National Police Agency, the head of the national police, do you know?"

Tamaru Juzaburo's face looked even worse.

"Prime Minister," he said: "We... also just received the news."

Oowada stared at him.

"Just now," Oowada lifted his head, tilted it 45 degrees forward, and leaned in: "Just now? Are you going to tell me you also found out from the news? Hahaha, hahahaha..."

Watanabe Eiji and Tamaru Juzaburo's faces turned deathly pale.

Oowada understood.

He leaned back in his chair, looking at these two people.

"One of you is the highest supervisor of the police system, the other is the highest executor of the police system. The United States has sent a note, the whole world is watching, and you tell me you only just found out."

He paused.: "Then I ask you, when did you find out? If you only just found out, what were your people doing during this time before? Sleeping?"

No one spoke.

Oowada sighed.

That sigh was light, but Watanabe Eiji heard the weight in it.

It was not an ordinary sigh, it was the sigh of a national leader called in the middle of the night to handle a crisis, feeling disappointed in his subordinates—"Ah Ah Ah!" Oowada was about to explode, he slapped the table with his palm, sending all the documents on it flying and scattering to one side, the wind sweeping away the clouds of paper flying everywhere, and then Prime Minister Oowada took a deep breath, preparing to take off!

At this moment, Finance Minister Hanzawa spoke.

"Prime Minister." His voice was very calm, carrying the unique composure of a banker: "Now is not the time to pursue responsibility. The urgent task is to clarify the situation, then come up with countermeasures."

He looked at Foreign Minister Isayama: "What other details are there in the note from the United States?"

Foreign Minister Isayama trembled as he opened the document.

"The note mentions that the victims' families have already spoken out publicly on social media, and public opinion pressure in the United States is great. The Office of the Vice President means they hope we can give an initial response within twenty-four hours."

"Twenty-four hours?" Tamaru Juzaburo couldn't help but speak up.

Watari looked at him.

"It is daytime in the United States now, public opinion is fermenting. Already someone in their Diet has proposed to bring this matter to the United Nations Human Rights Council, and the conference room fell silent again.

Submit to the United Nations.

Watanabe Eiji's temples began to throb. If this matter truly reaches that level, it will no longer be a police scandal, but a diplomatic issue, a national image issue, and a credibility issue for Japan in the international community.

Prime Minister Oowada remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he looked at Nanko Taro.

"Nanko-kun."

"You, right now, immediately, immediately, make me clarify this matter. Who is that police officer, what did he film, for how long, were there foreigners, how many foreigners, which countries they are from. All the details, I want to know."

He paused: "Before dawn, I want answers, this is a death order!"

"Yes!" Nanko Taro did not look at Tamaru Juzaburo, knowing this police agency director is empty, and instead looked directly at Watanabe Eiji: "Watanabe-kun, deploy the Special Mission Division! Now!!!"

"We need the strength of the Special Mission Division! We need the strength of Uesugi Muneyuki!!!"

"Yes!" Watanabe Eiji glanced at the time, it was already one o'clock in the morning.

Less than five hours until dawn!

Uesugi save me Tooth Sound!!!