Chapter 804

PS: New month, please give me a monthly ticket!

After the variety segment of 《Hand of God》 finished filming, the drama segment soon followed.

In August in Tokyo, it gets dark late, and the Special Mission Division office was brightly lit, but the atmosphere was different from usual—caution tape was strung up in the hallway, lighting stands and reflectors piled in the corners, a few crew members with headsets crouched by the distribution box adjusting cables, and in the normally stern police office area floated a mixed scent of coffee and cosmetics.

The 《Hand of God》 crew came to the Metropolitan Police Department for on-location filming.

After Uesugi Muneyuki finished his bento, he happened to see Tsumabuki Satoshi standing at the Special Mission Division entrance talking to the director.

This national-level actor wore a dark gray suit, his tie fastened impeccably, his profile sharp-angled under the lights.

Uesugi Muneyuki walked over, and Tsumabuki Satoshi saw him first, smiling and extending his hand: "Professor Uesugi, I've long admired you."

"Tsumabuki-san, you flatter me." Uesugi Muneyuki shook his hand: "Your portrayal of Naoe Kanetsugu in 《Heaven and Earth Chronicles》 left a deep impression. As a retainer of the Uesugi family, you performed excellently."

Tsumabuki Satoshi laughed, the lines at the corners of his eyes full of sincerity: "Oh, I couldn't possibly accept that. When filming 《Heaven and Earth Chronicles》, I went to Yonezawa for research, and the Uesugi family's traditions are indeed admirable. Later, hearing about the cases you, Professor Uesugi, have solved, I thought this might be the modern continuation of the Uesugi family ethos."

Uesugi Muneyuki smiled at his words but said nothing.

Tsumabuki Satoshi played the famous Uesugi retainer Naoe Kanetsugu in the historical drama 《Heaven and Earth Chronicles》, and back then his grandfather was still relatively young, in his sixties, and served throughout as the historical consultant for this drama, so his understanding of it is profound.

As the renowned "Number One Retainer Under Heaven," Naoe Kanetsugu is famous in Japanese history; he once served as a senior retainer of the Toyotomi regime with holdings of 300,000 koku, and if his stipend and territory were calculated solely as a daimyo's, he would rank among the top twenty or so in the Toyotomi regime; moreover, the opening symbol of the Battle of Sekigahara, the "Naoe Letter," was penned by him; as a firm believer in the "Aizen Myōō" righteousness, he excelled in domestic affairs, military, and diplomacy, and has long been a popular figure and the obsession of many "history girls."

Long live Lord Naoe!

However, when Tsumabuki Satoshi portrayed Naoe Kanetsugu, the historical drama had already begun full-scale "idolization," with actors cast as handsome men and beautiful women; while it cannot be said to have no relation to historical truth, it can only be said to be severely "fictionalized" and far removed from actual history.

Uesugi Muneyuki's evaluation of 《Heaven and Earth Chronicles》 is actually not high.

In its early stages, the drama heavily sold yaoi and bromance, constantly teasing male-male ambiguity, and interspersed with large amounts of comedic content; in the middle, it suddenly shifted to serious historical drama; and in the later stages, as always, whoever was the protagonist of the historical drama would be fiercely praised, all the highlights of that faction arranged for that person, and all the blame shifted onto others.

Moreover, the Naoe Kanetsugu portrayed by Tsumabuki Satoshi is vastly different from the historical Naoe Kanetsugu: historically, the young Naoe Kanetsugu was exceptionally intelligent and gifted, while the drama's version is impulsive, rash, rigid, and obstinate; historically, Naoe Kanetsugu excelled in diplomacy, had a supple bearing, flexible principles, and understood how to assess the situation, adapting his thinking immediately to the tides of power whether during the Otate Rebellion or afterward under the Toyotomi and Tokugawa regimes; the drama's Naoe Kanetsugu, for the sake of righteousness, often lets himself and even the entire Uesugi family fall into peril, becoming a man neither literary nor martial, obstinate and dull-witted, a moral fanatic. But there was no helping it—Japanese society at the time favored such a trend; it wasn't that this screenwriter ruined you, it was this large environment that did! Tsumabuki-san! After exchanging a few pleasantries, the director came over to greet them, saying today's filming mainly focused on everyday scenes inside the Special Mission Division, requiring Uesugi Muneyuki to appear in the background: "You don't need to do anything—just sit at your desk and handle documents; when the camera passes by, it will naturally capture you." Uesugi Muneyuki nodded, walked into his analysis room, sat at his desk, and spread out an unfinished autopsy report from yesterday. Outside in the office area, the lighting technician was adjusting angles, the cameraman was testing positions, and crew members moved props back and forth.

Amid the bustle, he heard Miyawaki Sakura's voice coming from somewhere, bright and lively with her usual energy. Filming has begun!

"Ms. Shirakawa, do you think our Japanese police have problems?"

Shirakawa Mai's pleasant voice, unhurried: "What problems? Sakura?"

"Look!" Miyawaki Sakura's voice drew nearer, as if walking from the changing room to the office area: "Our Special Mission Division has four sections—Criminal Division One, Criminal Division Two, Public Security Section One, and Prosecutor's Liaison System—so there should be at least twenty or thirty people, right? Why is it that every time we go out on fieldwork or return to handle affairs at Sakurada Gate, it's just us few? Just you, me, the Management Officer (Tsumabuki Satoshi playing the superior), and a few others like Kitazawa (Tei Reiji and others playing the desk officers), occasionally joined by Professor Uesugi—he doesn't speak much anyway. Is this reasonable?"

Shirakawa Mai laughed once, without responding.

Then they turned the corridor corner and appeared at the entrance of the Special Mission Division office area.

The entire set fell silent for an instant. Not because of what they said, but because of how they looked.

National Goddess Shirakawa Mai wore the summer duty police uniform: a short-sleeved light blue shirt, tailored to fit perfectly, the collar fastened with a dark blue narrow tie, the shirt hem tucked into matching tube skirt.

The tube skirt reached two finger-widths above the knee, outlining the waistline into a smooth arc to the hips, below the hem a pair of legs—encased in flesh-toned ultra-thin stockings, straight, glowing with a fine sheen under the lights, like jade beautiful legs.

Flawless silk feet stepped into a pair of black low-cut high-heeled shoes, the heel neither high nor low, just right to elongate the calf lines. Her hair was pulled back, revealing a smooth forehead and delicate features.

No heavy makeup, just light touch-up, but that face possessed the power to make one unable to look away—radiant, brilliant, blazing with light, as if she had gathered all the summer sunlight onto herself.

Standing there, she was the leading lady, needing no words.

Beside her, Miyawaki Sakura wore the same uniform, but the impression was entirely different.

Her shirt was one size larger than Shirakawa Mai's, the cuffs rolled twice, revealing a slender wrist.

The tie was tied slightly askew—not because she couldn't tie it, but because she did it on purpose, giving off a girlish sense of ease.

The tube skirt reached her knee, below the hem the legs wrapped in white stockings—not dead white, but with a hint of pearl luster, soft, like cream, white and tender, white and luminous.

If Shirakawa Mai's white is the porcelain white of skin showing through stockings, then Miyawaki Sakura's white is the skin's pinkish white beneath the stockings. On her feet were a pair of round-toed square-heeled loafers, which swayed lightly as she walked.

Her hair was tied in a ponytail, the ends resting on her shoulders, bouncing with her steps.

On her face was that smile that drives countless fans crazy—lively, clear, sweet, like the most popular underclassman in high school, making one want to laugh along. She was currently complaining to Shirakawa Mai about why our Special Mission Division's personnel count doesn't even match one section? Her expression vivid, as if stepped out of a manga.

"So I just said, our division absolutely has problems—how can our numbers not even exceed one section?" Miyawaki Sakura continued complaining.

The people on set couldn't help but lift the corners of their mouths.

Indeed, a division shouldn't have so few people.

But television dramas can't do that—if too many characters appear at once, it overloads the audience's pig brains, and since television dramas aren't films and viewers don't focus on screens for long, we must instead strengthen memorability.

The 《Hand of God》 drama itself already gives Shirakawa Mai as senior student and Uesugi Muneyuki et al. as main cast a relatively large share, plus each episode needs perpetrators and victims, witnesses and other relations, and guest roles, leaving little room for police, so to avoid confusing the audience about who is who, the Metropolitan Police Department police have largely fixed to just a few individuals.

Yet this inevitably makes readers wonder—how can the Special Mission Division have only these few police? Not even one section's worth? Thus Fuji carefully designed this scene.

Just as Miyawaki Sakura was complaining, behind her, in the Special Mission Division office area, over a dozen desks stood neatly arranged.

Behind each desk sat a person—not background extras from the crew, but actual Special Mission Division police officers.

They wore uniforms identical to Miyawaki Sakura's, but their demeanor was completely different.

No deliberate posing, no smiling at the camera—just working. Someone lowered their head to file documents, someone frowned at a computer screen, someone walked briskly with a coffee, someone discussed something at a whiteboard.

The documents spread on the desks were real, the computer screens displayed genuine case files, the whiteboard showed relationship charts of unsolved cases. Sitting behind the desk farthest inside was Uesugi Minami, Special Mission Section Chief, Police Superintendent.

She wore a standard Police Superintendent summer duty uniform, her long black lustrous hair neatly coiled, before her lay a thick stack of documents, conversing with Okada Masayoshi beside her, the wedding ring on her left ring finger specially close-up for three full seconds.

Special Mission Division Supervisor Okada Masayoshi held a pen, listening and nodding, expression stern, communicating with Nango Yui.

Beside that desk sat Kai Toru, young Assistant Police Inspector, frowning at his computer screen, fingers flying across the keyboard. Igarashi Hayato was on the phone, voice low but expression urgent, as if arguing with someone.

Also present were Date Nagamune and Maeda Toshihide—these two rarely argued, each sitting at their own desk handling documents, occasionally lifting their heads to exchange a glance, then lowering them again.

And public security officers, prosecutors...

These people, pick any one out, are all police who have appeared in news, magazines, household names in Japan.

The cases the Special Mission Division has solved since its founding—each one was handled by them.

At this moment they sat here, stars shining brightly, working silently, like a silent, well-trained army.

Miyawaki Sakura's voice, when saying "twenty or thirty people," happened to rise a notch, especially clear in the quiet office area. A few officers lifted their heads to glance at her, expressions calm, no special reaction, then lowered their heads again to continue working.

That calm held something that made one feel embarrassed—as if saying, "We've always been here, you just didn't notice." Virtual and real, the boundary between reality and television drama blurred, and in a moment, it seemed Shirakawa Mai and Miyawaki Sakura truly were members of the Metropolitan Police Department's ace division, the Special Mission Division.

We are not absent—we have always been here.

Then perhaps Miyawaki Sakura's complaint was a bit loud, National Hero Okada Masayoshi glanced at her, then proactively came over to the glass door between the office area and hallway, silently closing it without a sound.

The action was light, the sound soft, but that "click" in the suddenly quiet set was as clear as a pin dropping. This scene formed a perfect program effect.

The corner of his eye caught everyone present, especially Special Mission Division Section Chief Police Superintendent Minami, whose eyes widened with an adorable expression that seemed to say, "Huh? What do you mean by this?" The face of Fujitō Sakura, the rookie police officer portrayed by Miyawaki Sakura, turned "teng" red.

She opened her mouth, intending to say something, but found she couldn't utter a word; Mai Xuejie stood beside her, the curve of her mouth finally unable to be suppressed as she softly, silently began to laugh.

Everyone, we've been here all along!

The crew on set exchanged glances, someone covered their mouth, someone's shoulders trembled, someone simply couldn't hold back anymore, turned around and pretended to adjust equipment.

Even the lighting technician forgot he was still holding the reflector board in his hand, just holding it there, the corner of his mouth twitching incessantly.

Tsumabuki Satoshi stood beside the director, watching this scene, gently shook his head, laughed, and said: "The effect of this scene is far stronger than deliberately emphasizing that we're not just these few people."

Uesugi Muneyuki sat in the investigation room, and through the glass wall saw the entire process.

The corner of his mouth slightly raised, he lowered his head and continued looking at the corpse examination report in his hand.

Outside in the office area, filming continued, but everyone felt that today's best shot had already been captured.

At past ten o'clock in the evening, the crew wrapped up.

Crew members began packing up equipment, and the police officers left one after another.

However, at this very moment, a pair of slender hands as smooth and beautiful as sheep-fat jade reached from behind and covered Uesugi Muneyuki's mouth.

"Mmm-mmm-mmm!!!"

"Hehe, Junior Student, tell your wife Minami that you still have two shots left to film! Let her and your master Eriringa Shīshō go home first." Mai Xuejie's voice, carrying a hint of threat, came from behind.