Chapter 783

Moreover, I've always had a question.

Uesugi Muneyuki said in the car to the three people, Date Nagamune, Kai Toru, and Ikeda: "As Minami said on the phone, for a forensics division staff member, taking a few corpse photos is really easy, but he subsequently photographed over a hundred female corpses, also including several males, leaving over a thousand photos, and repeatedly sold them on the dark web—such frequent and dense activity, Kanagawa Prefecture couldn't possibly have no one notice." "Perhaps no one wanted to meddle?" Kai Toru mused: "Uesugi-san, actually at the grassroots level, it's like this—everyone just earns a salary; for such a small matter, who would risk their life?"

"Exactly, exactly—a monthly salary of 200,000 to 300,000 yen, who would risk their life for that?" Date Nagamune also nodded in deep agreement: "Everyone's just gotten used to not wanting to meddle."

Uesugi Muneyuki smiled and nodded: Many German corporate bosses actually think they can raise assassins with a monthly salary of 5,000 marks.

But truly raising assassins means pouring the entire 4 billion mark surplus of the conglomerate down at once—even a supermarket fish-slicing auntie could get tens of thousands of marks, that's what raising assassins is.

A monthly salary of 200,000 to 300,000 yen—who would risk their life for that?

"Of course, there's also another possibility: collusion, an iron plate." Ikeda Erena said disdainfully: "Things in Kanagawa, no matter how you do them, aren't surprising."

"Yes, and this is precisely where the second issue comes in." Uesugi Muneyuki raised a second finger in the car: "That is, the involved funds. Currently, according to the FBI's Luo Rui-Si... well, just following the official Runa-Roshiji-huhuhu investigation, the total investigable case funds are at least over 5 million yen. So the question arises: is 5 million yen a lot? Well, let's assume this isn't the real amount, and the real case funds we'll conservatively estimate at three times—15 million yen. Is that a lot? Enough to let him repeatedly offend over 13 years, silencing everyone?"

Everyone fell silent at this.

15 million yen is indeed a huge sum for ordinary people, but according to what Setouchi Makoto did, this amount is really too little. How could he rely on this money to silence everyone for 13 years? Not to mention 15 million—even 150 million would seem too little. This brings us to the famous Japanese yakuza paradox.

It is well known that the Japanese yakuza are among the few civilian self-governing organizations officially recognized worldwide, but in fact the Japanese government does not recognize yakuza as legal; rather, due to the Japanese constitution stipulating "citizens have freedom of speech, publication, assembly, association, procession, and demonstration," the government cannot forcibly declare these organizations illegal, and can only compel them to "publicly disclose their member lists."

However, as previously mentioned, since the Anti-Violence Group Law and various restrictions, most yakuza have now declined into engaging in fisheries, civil engineering, festival stalls, street-side fried skewer boxed meals, and valet parking—small fry.

But maintaining organizational operations requires sufficient funds.

This gives rise to a "yakuza paradox": to maintain internal structural operations, yakuza must involve themselves in high-profit industries, such as the sex industry, or ice production and sales.

But if yakuza dare to enter such high-profit fields, the Japanese police, having completed a series of legislation, have grounds and justification to launch a heavy crackdown. Yakuza are thus gradually trapped in a cage, slowly tightening the shackles toward slow death—back in the 80s and 90s, a yakuza boss's death would draw both black and white paths to attend, and during New Year greetings, tens of thousands of black-suited men would parade the streets—a scene that will never reappear. "15 million yen is too little to buy everyone off." Uesugi Muneyuki concluded: "And Minami just told me that public security police arrived in Kanagawa Prefecture a few days ago—why didn't they find anything? Why didn't they report it?"

"Yeah, why?" Ikeda Erena cheerfully gave up thinking.

"I'll give you a hint: the photos were discovered by Americans, and Yokosuka Base, which hosts the U. S. military base in Japan." Uesugi Muneyuki said meaningfully, then glanced at the car following behind.

The public security police's car.

"Uesugi Chief, you mean..." Date Nagamune's expression changed.

Chrysanthemum! Crane! Star!

"Don't rush to conclusions." Uesugi Muneyuki shook his head: "First, assess the situation."

"Before that, we need you to cooperate with me in performing a play."

Everyone soon arrived at an old apartment in Hokutoku Ward.

After getting out of the car, Uesugi Muneyuki stopped the public security police officers, including Ozawa Sumiko: "You three, just wait downstairs for a moment." "Are you afraid we'll scare people?" Ozawa Sumiko, a high-IQ female officer, after all an MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) graduate. "Hmm, you reek too much of officialdom, inconvenient for inquiry." Uesugi Muneyuki nodded: "Just wait downstairs." "Alright." Hojo Toru and Hikawa Makoto, etc., didn't say anything: "If you need our help, you know we're outside." Sure enough, when Uesugi Muneyuki knocked on the door, Ozawa wasn't asleep; when this already-retired forensics officer saw Uesugi Muneyuki, he indeed trembled all over.

Sorry, Iwan, your name's on the list!

Chief, you got the wrong person—Iwan's next door! I'm Shemiak!

I don't care if you're Iwan or Shemiak—if you've got business, go say it at Lubyanka!

"Is it you?" Ozawa recognized Uesugi Muneyuki.

"It's me."

"You came?"

"I came."

"You shouldn't have come."

"I already came!"

"After all, you still came."

"Yes, I couldn't not come."

"What did you come for?"

"I came to lay things out clearly."

"What's left to say now? You all already know, don't you?" Ozawa's face turned ashen, tried to close the door, but Uesugi Muneyuki had already stepped halfway in: "Mr. Ozawa, I'm not here to arrest you—I just want to ask a few questions."

"I... I can't tell you, I've already said what I should." Ozawa sighed: "Uesugi Chief, you're also part of the system—you should understand, I still have family and kids to support! The higher-ups already issued a gag order—sorry, I can't help you. If you insist on asking, I can only say, I have nothing to report!"

Kai Toru and Date Nagamune behind Uesugi Muneyuki both changed expression.

The public security people came early, and they've already gagged!

But Uesugi Muneyuki wasn't flustered; he nodded: "I came precisely for this."

"I said, I have nothing to report." The recently retired elder's eyes were bloodshot, he looked very fatigued: "If you want, then arrest me—but even if taken to the police station, I can only tell you this..."

"You've mistaken, Mr. Ozawa—I came representing the public security police." Uesugi Muneyuki, without surprise, gestured for Ozawa to look out the window: "See, they're outside—I just want you to recount everything, that's all."

Representing the public security police?

Ozawa immediately turned his gaze toward the detached house outside—sure enough, he saw four people in black suits, public security police waiting outside, one still smoking—that stern atmosphere, the unique attitude of doubting everything and sharp eyes, plus that particular "officialdom stench." No mistake! Indeed public security police! He's worked in the system for nearly forty years—how could he not recognize who's public security?

"Now I see." Ozawa believed him: "What do you want to know?"

"Sit down—I want to know everything." Uesugi Muneyuki said with a smile.

Ozawa trembled as he sat down.

Uesugi Muneyuki got straight to the point: "You know about Setouchi Makoto's affairs—then as his senior and his teacher, how much do you specifically know?" Silence.

The wall clock's pendulum ticked.

Uesugi Muneyuki sighed: "Your wife's illness needs long-term care, right? Is your pension enough? If you don't speak now, once the case blows up, you'll be investigated as an accomplice. By then, not only will your pension stop, but your wife's medical insurance will also be affected."

Ozawa's eye sockets reddened.

He looked up at Muneyuki, voice hoarse: "I've spoken—can you guarantee I and my old companion will be alright?"

"Cooperating with the investigation makes you a witness."

Ozawa finally spoke.

Not long ago, about twenty years back, Setouchi began sometimes staying alone in the mortuary after work.

Ozawa once went back to retrieve something, and caught him holding a phone to a corpse.

Setouchi panicked a bit, then handed him an envelope containing 100,000 yen.

"We're all brothers—don't go spreading it."

Onodera took the money and pretended not to see. Later he discovered that Setouchi not only took photos himself, but also exchanged photos with several people.

Once he caught a glimpse of Setouchi's phone screen, which showed a chat group where someone was discussing "white goods".

"Who all?" Kai Takashi asked.

Onodera listed several names, all former colleagues from the Forensic Identification Division, one of whom had already been promoted to Section Chief.

Uesugi Muneyuki noted it down.

Besides, Onodera actually didn't know anything more.

To put it simply, everyone were just coworkers who saw each other daily, there was no need to fall out over such a trivial matter, and since everyone had already gained some benefits, they just kept quiet—what's there to risk one's life for a mere 200,000 to 300,000 yen a month?

"Very good, Mr. Onodera, thank you for your cooperation."

Time is limited, Uesugi Muneyuki wastes no words, immediately rushes to the next location, leaving only the recently retired old man sighing in the detached house. Hardworking, having lived half his life, tonight he again walks into wind and rain.

I cannot go with the flow, for my beloved kin, no matter how bitter or difficult, I must remain strong, only for those expectant eyes~

The second witness is a retired employee of the Hokutsu Funeral Home, seventy-year-old Tanabe.

Uesugi Muneyuki and the others found him at a ramen shop open late at night—sure enough, the old man suffers from insomnia and often comes here for late-night snacks.

Same old, he said he had nothing to say, then Uesugi Muneyuki pointed toward Ozawa Sumiko and the others, whereupon Tanabe instantly recognized them as public security police, and Date Nagamune then stepped forward to ingratiate himself—being a former Self-Defense Forces member, he knew exactly how to handle these people.

Coaxing and deceiving, flashing the gun butt, then threatening with "involving state secrets", finally enthusiastically treating him to a bowl of seafood soup and a cup of shochu. "This meal is on me."

After a bowl of hot soup went down, Tanabe's tongue loosened: "Those cops, sometimes they'd call ahead, saying 'That woman's delivered in the afternoon, you burn her later, we've got someone who needs to take photos'. Red envelopes, ten thousand yen each. I've taken a few, but later I felt it was too risky, so I quit." "During the shoots, I'd overhear people outside mentioning that there were indeed buyers long seeking to purchase 'yellow goods', local buyers specifically asking for 'white goods', and saying they preferred Nordic and Eastern Europeans, Russians also acceptable."

"Do you still remember which cops those were?" Eirina whispered.

Tanabe narrowed his eyes and thought: "There was a tall, thin man with narrow eyes and a slight accent…… oh, and once a foreigner came, blond, in civilian clothes, but driving a vehicle from the U. S. military base."

Uesugi Muneyuki's heart jumped: "Foreigner?"

"Yeah. I can't recall the license plate, but I'm sure it was from the U. S. military base."

Upon hearing "U. S. military base", Date Nagamune and Kai Takashi both turned pale.

How could there really be something involving the U. S. military?

Now things have gotten troublesome!