Chapter 825

The sharp knocking sounded like the melody of hell, striking the death knell.

In the command vehicle, everyone's breath was held at the same frequency.

On the screen, that woman stood at the doorway, her smile professional and proper.

Soft, cute, and adorable, wearing a beige knit dress, layered with a light gray cardigan, and light-colored flat shoes on her feet, without stockings, Yamada Nanase opened the door a crack, about twenty centimeters wide, her body blocking most of the indoor view.

Yamada Nanase didn't like wearing socks, although the public security police thought housewives wearing stockings gave off a more married-woman charm, but when Yamada Nanase seriously asked whether socks must be worn no matter what and looked toward Uesugi Muneyuki, Uesugi Muneyuki felt the entire Special Mission Division's gaze upon him, their expressions holding some unreadable amusement.

Ritual phrase! Wear them or don't, I don't care!

Uesugi Muneyuki, flustered and angry, said you like it then fine! What's it to me?

Thus Yamada Nanase naturally chose not to wear stockings; she even disliked wearing shoes at home, preferring to go barefoot.

Following the procedure rehearsed countless times, she should maintain this posture, politely take the questionnaire, fill out a few lines, then close the door. The whole process should take no more than two minutes, no need to let anyone inside, no need to leave an impression on anyone.

But that woman did not hand over the file folder.

She stood outside the threshold, seeing Yamada Nanase's slightly upturned nose tip pause, then her gaze swept over Yamada Nanase's shoulder and glanced inside the house. That glance was brief, so brief a normal person wouldn't notice, but everyone present noticed it—because it wasn't the look of someone conducting a survey.

It wasn't curiosity, not casual, but a precise, goal-oriented, scanning confirmation.

She was checking whether anyone was inside the house.

Yamada Nanase's hand trembled slightly.

The door crack opened a little more, then she immediately pulled it back, her lips pressed into a line, the smile on her face stiffening, her eyes beginning to show a real, unfeignable fear—not acted, she was truly afraid.

Facing this woman, this professional smile, those eyes scanning inside the house, reminded her of the scene Uesugi Muneyuki had described: Matsumoto Yumi might have seen a woman in the peephole, opened the door, and then everything was too late.

"She's checking if anyone's inside." Ikeda Erena's voice came through the earpiece, low and urgent: "We can't wait." "Understood!" Uesugi Muneyuki and the others hadn't reacted yet, when Maeda Toshihide immediately shouted into the walkie-talkie.

He turned 180 degrees from the "jogging" route across the street, his sneakers screeching on the asphalt as he pushed off. Eight seconds, he covered fifty meters, his body like a bullet just leaving the barrel.

The woman heard the footsteps, jerked her head around, pupils dilated, mouth opened—but nothing came out in time.

Maeda Toshihide's left hand grabbed her right wrist, his right hand seized her shoulder, his weight sank, his waist powered, and he executed a clean shoulder throw.

The woman's body traced an arc in midair, the file folder slipped from her grasp, papers scattered like snowflakes, and Maeda Toshihide pressed her firmly onto the stone slab floor of the genkan, face down, arms twisted behind her back, a pair of handcuffs flashed metallic in the sunlight with a "clink" as they locked around her wrists.

"What are you doing? Ow!" the woman cried out, both pained and stiff.

"Don't move! Police!" Maeda Toshihide's voice was low, but each word struck the air like a nail.

Yamada Nanase stood in the doorway, frozen.

She looked down at the woman pinned beneath her, at her distorted face, smudged lipstick, fallen false eyelashes, fingers gripping the door handle, knuckles white, lips trembling slightly.

Is, is this how it's done?

My mission, is it completed?

"Step aside, I'll take over!" Ikeda Erena burst out from the vacant residence across the street, her torn suit dress fluttering in the wind, the muscles on her thighs tensing, she performed a flashy step and squatted beside the subdued woman, quickly searching her uniform pockets—ID, keys, a pack of tissues, a lipstick, a wallet.

The ID bore a photo and name: Satou Rina, thirty-two, Hino Automobile Enterprize Factory, dispatched worker.

Nango Yui also came around from the other side, holding a mobile terminal, her fingers flying across the screen.

Kai Toru walked out from the "renovated" house, still holding those garden shears, while Date Nagamune did a standard J-drama run—his jogging route was quite far from here, he sprinted nearly three hundred meters, panting: "I'm here, I'm here! Wait for me, wait for me, my teeth!"

"ID!" Ikeda Erena handed the ID to Nango Yui, who immediately began scanning and transmitting the image to the backend.

"You guys, what the hell is going on? Police? Why? I'm just..." the woman on the ground still struggled, and thirty seconds later, data came from the temporary command vehicle behind.

Ozawa Sumiko spoke urgently in a rapid pace: "Found it. Satou Rina, dispatched worker at Hino Automobile Enterprize Factory, thirty-two, married, two children, lives in Iruma City. Today there was indeed a community survey task, and on the distribution list of the Iruma Enterprises Safety Mutual Aid Society, her name is in the third group."

Ikeda Erena stared at the screen for two seconds, then lowered her head, looking at the woman pressed to the ground, softly crying.

Satou Rina's face pressed against the cold stone slab, tears and smudged lipstick mingled, she looked less like a killer and more like an ordinary person inexplicably swept into a nightmare.

"Why did you come here today?" Ikeda Erena's voice hadn't relaxed its vigilance, but her tone softened somewhat.

Satou Rina choked out: "I... I'm here to do the survey... the area assigned to me from above is this very place... I really don't know what's going on... who are you... why are you arresting me..."

"Why did you look inside the house just now?" Ikeda Erena pressed.

Satou Rina's tears flowed harder, her voice broken: "Because... because I recognized her... she's the one... the one who ate with Shirakawa Mai;... that Yamada Nanase... I saw her on INS... I wanted to see... if Shirakawa Mai was also inside... I... I wanted an autograph..."

"Give me your phone!" Ikeda Erena gestured: "Password!"

"Password; it's... 7774396!"

Ikeda Erena immediately entered the lock-screen password, then a minute later, the tall beauty policewoman's words were filled with absurdity: "Wait a moment, Muneyuki, Management Officer, she's telling the truth. Her INS follow list includes Shirakawa Mai, she liked Yamada Nanase's post, and three days ago she even commented on Shirakawa Mai's post saying 'I also want to see Mai-sama'. Her phone has many photos of Shirakawa Mai saved, set as special attention!" "What the heck?!?!" several people in the temporary command vehicle stared dumbfounded.

We arrested the wrong person?!

No, this person is genuinely doing official surveys and corporate questionnaires, social activities! Not that female killer! Or at least there's no evidence proving she is!

Damn stalker fans! Damn Mai-obsessed! Damn idol worship!

Shirakawa Mai helped us, but also screwed us over!

In the command vehicle, Okada Masayoshi slammed his coffee cup down hard on the table, coffee splashing everywhere.

"Damn it." He said a word very un-Okada Masayoshi-like: "Shibamata!"

This move will not only ruin the two-week fishing plan, but will also truly expose Yamada Nanase and put her in danger! And just at this moment, just as Maeda Toshihide tackled Satou Rina, on a street one block away, two men reacted completely differently.

They had no curiosity, no hesitation, no pause to see what happened.

They turned and ran.

These two men were about thirty-five or thirty-six, wearing dark work jackets and jeans, sneakers.

They had been standing by a vending machine on the street corner, each holding a can of coffee, looking like they were waiting for someone. But when Maeda Toshihide's figure flashed across from the opposite street and Satou Rina's file folder flew into the air, they simultaneously tossed their coffee cans into the trash, turned, and bolted. Their movements were synchronized as if rehearsed countless times, no communication, no gestures, not even eye contact.

Their escape route was pre-planned—through a narrow alley, over a low wall, jump into a dry drainage ditch, then sprint east along the ditch.

The ditch walls blocked the view from both sides, invisible from street level. They ran fast, not the panicked speed of ordinary people facing sudden events, but a rhythmic, energy-paced speed, knowing exactly where the endpoint was.

"What?" Date Nagamune, running toward us on the road, was the first to spot them.

At that moment he was on a small road to the east, about 150 meters from those two men. He saw two figures leap over the low wall and immediately gave chase in that direction.

"Report! Report! There are two strange men here! Not right! Very not right!!!" Date Nagamune almost shouted: "Reasonable suspicion, reasonable suspicion!"

When Maeda Toshihide rose from beside Satou Rina, those two men had already run nearly two hundred meters.

Ikeda Erena went around from the west, but the route was longer, and by the time she reached the outlet of the water channel, those two men had already run farther away. This place was already relatively remote, and on a weekday with few people around, still in Wuyu County!

It's over, we can't catch up.

This thought poured over everyone's hearts like a basin of ice water.

"Chase! Don't panic! Chase me right now!!!" Okada Masayoshi shouted into the police radio: "Don't panic, they can't escape!" "I am Ozawa Sumiko, authorized deployment, I repeat, authorized deployment!" Ozawa Sumiko also shouted.

Someone moved.

In a parking lot on the west side of the residential area, a seemingly ordinary "Rice Ball Delivery" electric motorcycle suddenly started. The rider wore a bright yellow delivery jacket with "Rice Ball Delivery, Deliver Anything Fast" written on it, the helmet covering most of his face, but from the way he started the bike, squeezed the clutch, shifted gears, and twisted the throttle, this person was absolutely not a delivery worker—the sequence of actions was smooth and crisp, as if he had practiced countless times on a racetrack.

Godai Yusuke, Captain of the Metropolitan Police Department SAT Team, Assistant Police Inspector.

Behind him, another motorcycle with a "Have You Eaten?" delivery sticker followed closely, the rider's jacket printed with a cartoon rice ball image, the helmet sky-blue, looking like a giant Earth, and the thermal box on the back also bore the sticker "SF City Express, Mission Must Succeed!" Tsugawa Shouichi, Special Mission Division Public Security Section One, Police Sergeant.

The two "delivery" motorcycles, one in front and one behind, flashed through the residential area's alleys and open spaces like two black lightning bolts, moving from two directions to envelop the escape route of those two men.

The real battle! It's only just beginning now!