Chapter 798

August's scorching Tokyo was thrown into chaos by a speeding Cadillac.

Time rewinds forty minutes earlier.

At the edge of Tokyo's 23 wards, where Adachi Ward meets Katsushika Ward, there was an ordinary gas station. While the vehicle owner finished refueling and went inside to pay, a man in a gray hoodie flung open the car door, turned the ignition, shifted gears, and floored the accelerator.

The tires screamed as they scraped several black marks on the asphalt, and the car shot onto the national highway as if flung by a slingshot.

When the vehicle owner rushed out of the store, he hurriedly gave chase, but was injured from being dragged along the way, and he never figured out what had actually happened.

"Nananana... Nani???" The vehicle owner, injured and completely bewildered by what had occurred, was left dazed and unconscious. I just went in to pay and use the restroom—how did my car disappear???

There was no time to explain; amid the vehicle owner's loud cries for help before losing consciousness, the bystanders' first reaction was to call the police.

Upon receiving this report, the traffic police immediately began mobilizing forces.

How dare they brazenly rob in broad daylight? Stealing someone's car right at a gas station?

This is no ordinary joyriding gang—we must bring out the heavy artillery!!!

The patrol cars from Adachi Police Station were the first to respond.

Two Crown police cars blared their sirens in pursuit, but the Cadillac acted as if they weren't even there.

It sped along the national highway at 160 kilometers per hour, overtaking vehicles, never braking for curves, each lane change grazing the side mirrors of adjacent cars, triggering a chorus of blaring horns.

The officers from Adachi Police Station gripped their radios, hands trembling—not from fear, but because the situation was changing too fast, their hands wouldn't obey. Is this Los Santos?

What a joke!

It's time to show you the power of the Japanese police!

"Target vehicle is heading south on National Route 4! Speed 170! Still accelerating!"

The radio crackled with headquarters' order: "All units along Route 4, set up checkpoints! Arakawa, Minami-Senju, and Mukojima Police Stations, deploy intercepts at major intersections!"

Yet even the Cadillac's owner hadn't imagined what performance his car possessed.

Japanese sedans have a trait: they aren't designed for speeding, so pushing beyond 160 km/h becomes difficult to handle.

But today, the Toyota Crown met its match!

The American big-displacement V8 engine roared low as it raced; though the body was heavy, in the gray hoodie man's hands it behaved like a tamed beast—each lane change precisely slipped into gaps in traffic, each acceleration perfectly timed to blast through intersections before the red light turned. Just as Arakawa Police Station's roadblocks were set up, he darted into a narrow side alley, just wide enough for one car, side mirrors scraping the walls and sending sparks flying.

By the time the police cars turned around and gave chase, he had already emerged from the other end of the alley and rejoined Route 4.

Forty minutes later, on the Metropolitan Expressway Central Circular Route, at the Kasai Toll Gate.

Over a dozen police cars from the Traffic Mobile Unit blocked the toll plaza, road barriers stacked three layers deep, armed mobile unit officers crouched behind vehicles, guns aimed at oncoming traffic.

The helicopter's searchlight bathed the entire lane in blinding brightness; far off, the black Cadillac appeared in view.

"Here it comes!" someone shouted.

Everyone braced themselves.

The Cadillac's speed didn't drop—200 meters, 150 meters, 100 meters—at that speed and distance, in everyone's calculation, stopping was impossible.

He's going to ram the checkpoint!!!

The mobile unit officer's finger curled around the trigger.

Then, the car suddenly moved.

Not slowing down—turning!

Less than eighty meters from the toll gate, the Cadillac's head jerked sharply right, the body carving a fierce arc at high speed—not the screech of drift tires laying down four thick smoke trails of rubber, the car nearly slid sideways toward the right-side exit ramp.

That was the exit toward downtown—no toll gate, no barriers, nothing at all!

"Inertial drift! It's inertial drift!" The Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters' helicopter had already launched; the pilot aboard muttered the phrase, his voice swallowed by rotor noise, but the livestream microphone faithfully broadcast it across all of Japan.

180 km/h inertial drift!

As the gray hoodie man entered the curve, he yanked the handbrake, wrenched the wheel, the rear swinging out in an arc precise as if measured by a ruler—barely clearing the ramp's guardrail, another inch and he'd be pulverized. Upon exiting the curve, he released the handbrake, floored the accelerator, the V8 engine bellowed, the body shot forward like a kicked football, vanishing down the ramp's end.

Before the toll gate, over a dozen police cars and dozens of officers stood frozen in place.

Their barriers, their guns, their encirclement—all reduced to mere props.

The radio bellowed headquarters' rage: "Pursue! All of you pursue! Helicopter keep up! Absolutely cannot let him enter downtown!"

At this moment, everyone recalled the fear from over a year ago, when Ikebukuro Phantom Guest, Sakuma Kaito, held sway.

And this is exactly what Uesugi Muneyuki is witnessing now.

What else is there that I haven't seen?

Holy shit, I've truly never seen this before!

Uesugi Muneyuki seeing this scene was utterly dumbstruck, a melody already forming in his mind.

Last night, I encountered a Five-Ling Hongguang on Akina Mountain!

Shrimp-catching hut!

Water ballet, Indian macho man, Indian rice, hurry and experience!

My drift, Indian trade, so launch inmyeye, pull out the Xunmai!

Shrimp-catching hut!

Uesugi Muneyuki originally wanted another round with Tobu Television's anchor, but now he had no interest; he answered Minami's call and watched this unfold on the TV.

At the same time, the Metropolitan Police Department helicopter pilot shoved the joystick forward, the massive aircraft tilting its fuselage to pursue into the ramp.

From above, the black Cadillac was seen speeding along the Metropolitan Expressway's downtown circular line, speed reduced to around 140 km/h, yet on this congested loop, such speed remains deadly.

It moved like a black poisonous snake through the steel forest, each lane change causing vehicles below to brake hard, honk, skid. "Straight-up a man-eating black mamba!" officers yelled over radio: "Man! whatcanisay? Keep up! Keep up!!!"

All mobilizable police cars from Precincts One through Four of downtown poured out.

Red and blue emergency lights surged from all directions, like a swarm of angered honeybees.

Stake the honor of the Japanese police!

But the Cadillac gave them no chance to close in.

At the Kasumigaseki intersection, it used a "pendulum effect" to shed two police cars that had cut in from the side—first swinging the head left to lure them, then snapping right, shifting its center of gravity between lanes in an unimaginable maneuver; by the time the police reacted, it had already slipped into the one-way street beside Hibiya Park, driving against traffic.

The vehicles in the oncoming lane were frantically honking and swerving to avoid it, and it just kept going the wrong way for a full four hundred meters, emerging from the other end, at which point the pursuing police cars were all blocked at the entrance of the one-way street.

Two police cars were wrecked on the spot, their fronts smashed, leaving only the officers who had struggled to open the doors and crawl out, their eyes glazed.

"This guy... is he a professional driver?" Uesugi Muneyuki stared at the screen, his voice carrying a kind of complex reverence.

He doesn't like driving, rarely drives, and when he was tested by the Metropolitan Police Department, he was told that he has a safety valve—that when his speed reaches a certain level, Uesugi Muneyuki will unconsciously ease off the accelerator or even hit the brakes.

People like him are simply not born to drive sports cars.

However, by this time, someone in Fuji's livestream had already recognized that move—one-one four-wheel drift into a pendulum, something only someone who regularly drives mountain roads could pull off—"What on earth is going on? Is this a spy movie being filmed? Or a challenge letter to Japan's traffic police?" Fuji's female anchor, Hisaka Akiko, said dazedly.

But this isn't over yet!

After the Cadillac came out of the one-way street, it didn't continue charging deeper into the metropolis, but instead turned onto Uchibori-dori).

This road runs along the outer perimeter of the Imperial Palace, the road is wide, and traffic is relatively light.

It traced a graceful arc in front of Sakuradamon in the Imperial Outer Garden, turned from Uchibori-dori) toward Tokyo Station, and the Metropolitan Police Department helicopter pilot thought it was heading for Marunouchi, immediately notified the Marunouchi Agency to set up a checkpoint, but then it suddenly turned right in front of Tokyo Station and plunged into the narrow alleys of Kyobashi!

The alleys were full of people getting off work. The Cadillac's engine roared as it plunged into the crowd, people screamed and threw themselves to the sides, briefcases, umbrellas, and convenience store bags flew everywhere. The speed dropped to eighty, but in a two-lane alley, eighty was already a crazy speed!

How fast! Uesugi Muneyuki already felt phantom pain.

Don't die in my screen, ah!

At the end of Kyobashi is Edo Bridge, and beyond Edo Bridge lies the entrance to the Shuto Expressway Inner Circular Route.

The Cadillac charged up the ramp, returned to the expressway, and just as the Traffic Mobile Unit had breathed a sigh of relief after its departure, they now had to tense up again—it was back.

"Back on the expressway! All checkpoints, pay attention! All checkpoints, pay attention!" The headquarters' command crackled back and forth over the police radios.

This time, no one dared to set up a checkpoint at the toll booth again.

They placed roadblocks at the expressway exits, at every possible place to get off, and at every on-ramp.

Police cars throughout Tokyo Metropolis had almost been completely drawn away, even the patrol cars from the koban were pulled onto the expressway.

Chase!!!

All that could be seen was the Cadillac speeding for another ten or so minutes on the expressway, it went from the Inner Circular Route to the Shoreline Route, from the Shoreline Route to the Central Circular Route, and from the Central Circular Route back to the Inner Circular Route.

Every time it encountered a police checkpoint, it used an unimaginable technical maneuver to break through—sometimes it was a handbrake drift to turn around, sometimes it was continuous lane changes to create chaos, sometimes it simply accelerated and charged past, and at the very last moment before the barrier, it slipped through the gap only ten or so centimeters wider than the car's body between the barrier and the guardrail. The helicopter's searchlight kept following it, but all the searchlight could do was follow—it couldn't stop anything.

"What the hell does this guy want?" the police officer in the helicopter shouted into the microphone, his voice already hoarse: "He's been driving for an hour since stealing the car! He neither rams the checkpoints nor stops, just keeps going like this! What is he waiting for?!"

No one could answer him.

Then, the Cadillac suddenly slowed down.

Not forced to stop, but slowing down on its own.

Near the Komatsugawa River exit on the Central Circular Route, it reduced speed from 140 to 80, then to 60, then to 40. The police cars following behind crept up cautiously, thinking it was finally going to stop.

But as it approached the exit ramp, it suddenly accelerated—but not onto the ramp, instead it shot down a temporary construction service road beside the ramp. "He went down! He went down the construction service road beside the Komatsugawa exit!" The helicopter pilot's voice exploded over the police radio. The Metropolitan Police Department headquarters' command almost roared: "Komatsugawa Agency! Katsushika Agency! All police forces in Edogawa Ward! Immediately blockade all roads around the Komatsugawa exit!"

Police cars from Edogawa Ward poured out in full force.

But they came up empty.

After going down the construction service road, the Cadillac turned into the residential area of Komatsugawa. Narrow streets, dense intersections, it moved like a loach weaving through the alleys, speed not fast, but impossible to catch up to.

Police cars were blocked at the alley entrances, officers jumped out and pursued on foot—how could two legs possibly keep up with four wheels?

It burst out of the residential area and got onto Shin-Nakadori) running east-west.

Then, just as everyone thought it was heading west toward the center of Edogawa Ward, it suddenly turned east into the even denser industrial zone. The roads in the industrial zone were narrower, with more turns, everywhere were warehouses and factories, everywhere were identical gray walls and iron sheet doors.

The helicopter circled in the air, its searchlight sweeping over every alley, every intersection.

But that gray-clad man obviously knew the local terrain like the back of his hand.

After winding through several bends in the industrial zone, he suddenly accelerated and charged into a passage under an elevated highway, the bridge piers densely packed, the searchlight's beams were cut into countless fragments, and the helicopter pilot could only watch helplessly as the black Cadillac disappeared into the shadows of the bridge piers. "Target entered beneath the Keiyō Line Elevated Bridge! Lost visual! Repeat, lost visual!"

"Everyone, gather beneath the Keiyō Line Elevated Bridge!!!"

Over a minute.

A full minute and more, the helicopter circled back and forth above the bridge, but the elevated highway blocked the view, completely unable to see what was happening below, and Tokyo's complex road conditions prevented police cars from arriving immediately.

By the time the first police car finally found the exit of that passage, about one minute and twenty seconds had passed, and beneath the elevated highway only an empty Cadillac remained, the engine still slightly warm, the driver's seat door open, the gray hoodie thrown on the seat, the person gone. Hmm, and even the just-refueled gasoline had mostly run out.

Besides that, nothing was missing from the car. According to radio communications, aside from one bottle of mineral water missing, everything else was left intact, even the small change placed beside the driver's seat was untouched.

This truly left all the police baffled.

What exactly does this person want?

After causing a ruckus for over an hour, running across half of Tokyo, playing with over a hundred police cars and one helicopter, he finally abandoned the car beneath the elevated highway and ran off? Just to steal a car? Just to get on TV?

Just then, a voice suddenly came through the helicopter's radio—not from headquarters, but from far away, carrying electrical static and ragged breathing: "All, all units pay attention! Mitsubishi UFJ Bank's Tokyo Station front branch just reported an alarm! The vault was pried open! Large amounts of cash and gold bars stolen! The crime occurred approximately one hour ago—namely, when that Cadillac first started speeding on the expressway!"

"What What???"