Chapter 883: New Official Takes Office, Three Fires Ignited!

PS: The prince's allergy is quite severe—his legs are rotting and it's spreading across his body, but applying medicine has kept it under control. I'll never dare eat shrimp, sea cucumber, and mugwort again… I'll resume two updates tomorrow.

Snow keeps falling~ The atmosphere isn't exactly harmonious~

Officers from Aomori Prefectural Police set up the first police line—yellow plastic tape stretched taut in the wind and snow, humming softly. Inspector Sato crouched by the dried spring, flashlight in hand, its beam cutting through the ice to cast stark, pale patches on the twisted, overlapping limbs. His assistant stood nearby taking photos, the shutter clicking mechanically and coldly, like documenting an archaeological site devoid of human emotion.

Uesugi Muneshige stood beneath the eaves of the main building's entrance, while Shirakawa Mai leaned against a pillar beside him—neither spoke.

At this moment, as a public figure, saying nothing is… a blunder.

The first wave of support arrived one hour later.

The chief of the Criminal Division at Aomori Prefectural Police Headquarters personally led the team, arriving with three patrol cars and one forensic unit van.

Next came the vehicle from the Forensic Medical Bureau—two medical examiners stepped out with their tool kits, saw the police line already set up by the dried spring and the several bodies recently unearthed from the ice's edge, and their steps faltered noticeably.

Leading them was a senior forensic examiner in his fifties, surnamed Nakamura, wearing silver-rimmed glasses fogged over; he removed them, wiped them clean, put them back on, then crouched to examine the bodies.

After staring for a long time, when he stood up, his legs felt weak, and he had to lean on a nearby police car to steady himself.

Not everyone is like Uesugi Muneshige—accustomed to examining corpses and unafraid of such things.

"This isn't just a matter of one or two years," he told Inspector Sato in a low voice: "There's more beneath the ice. A lot more. It requires heavy machinery—we can't rely solely on hand digging."

"Support is already en route," said the chief of the Criminal Division at Aomori Prefectural Headquarters.

"Who called in the excavation brigade?" Nearby Aomori-based companies had already dispatched excavators, though they'd need time to arrive. Four hours later, the main force from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters arrived.

A full convoy: ten patrol cars, five large forensic operations vehicles, two mobile unit riot buses, and three black armored vehicles marked "SAT," lined up in a long dragon across the snow, their headlights forming a piercing ribbon of light in the whiteout. Leading them was none other than Internal Affairs Chief Uchimura Kanji of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Criminal Department.

He came in person.

Before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop, he leapt from the passenger seat—his greatcoat still on, but he wore only a dark blue police shirt, collar open, showing no sign of feeling the cold.

He strode purposefully to the edge of the dried spring, glanced down into the ice below, then turned to Deputy Councilor Nakazono behind him and said something; the councilor immediately pulled out his phone and began making calls.

Kashiwagi Jin also arrived, approaching Uesugi Muneshige and giving him a half-joking shove: "You bastard, you didn't call me for this case?"

"Wasn't I supposed to call you?" Uesugi Muneshige nodded, gesturing for Kashiwagi Jin to come look: "The situation is far worse than imagined!" "Hmm." Old Jin, leading officers from the First Section of Investigation Division One, pressed forward—and then immediately vomited everywhere.

They got the news on this side of Fuji.

Then they continued filming while also dispatching a sharp, small team to the site to begin immediate excavation of primary evidence.

Human remains? Hell yes!

Over a hundred human remains? Hell yes, hell yes!

Involving local darkness and major social issues? Hell yes, hell yes, hell yes! Sai Gao Ni Ya Zi!

This is reporter Tei Zetsu reporting live from the scene for you!

The excavation work continued nonstop for an entire day and night.

The results came out faster than anyone expected—because the number was so vast, fine examination wasn't needed; even a rough count was shocking enough.

Bodies from the dried spring were dug out one by one, numbered, photographed, and placed in black body bags. Each showed varying degrees of decay and trauma—some missing limbs, others with spines bent into abnormal curves, some skulls bearing clear fractures, identical to those in the infamous Korean Frog Boys disappearance case—indicating they had suffered heavy blows in life.

When excavation reached the bottom of the dried spring, the first layer of skeletons was discovered—already fully skeletonized, buried in the spring's silt, mixed with black mud, making it impossible to distinguish bone from sludge.

The number of fully skeletonized remains exceeded those still partially decomposed, layered upon layered, with the lowest layer crushed into bone fragments requiring sifting through a sieve, bit by bit.

Beyond the dried spring, forensic officers under Uesugi Muneshige's leadership continued searching—under farmland, in building interlayers, even inside furniture—uncovering more and more remains.

A complete skeleton was found hidden in the wall cavity of the main building, curled up as if shoved in while alive, finger bones showing clear scratches—marks from nails dragging across the wall panels—until the very end, still struggling. Beneath the metal sheds of the dormitory area, three stacked skeletons were unearthed—no coffin, no wrapping, just buried directly in soil, covered only by a thin layer of cement.

In a warehouse corner, over a dozen burlap sacks were stacked; opening one revealed nothing but bones—large and small, long and short—some identifiable as human parts, others sawn cleanly through, the cuts unnaturally even, as if deliberately processed with tools. In an office closet, several garments made of human skin were carefully removed, laid flat in evidence bags, and under the light emitted an unreal, greasy sheen. On the offering table: skull caps, bone beads, and leg bone mandalas—each numbered and photographed individually.

When the massive corpse forest mandala thangka was taken down from the wall, a hidden compartment was revealed behind it, containing a small purple sandalwood box. Inside lay a handwritten notebook; the flyleaf bore a name—identical to the one carved at the center of the blood formation beneath the offering table.

Takikawa Tsubasa.

Uesugi Muneshige's face was grim—clearly, the Corpse Forest Lord's Golden Body Dharma Form had been cultivated exactly this way.

The final tally was quickly compiled into Internal Affairs Chief Uchimura Kanji's hands.

In the dried spring: 107 bodies. In the underground farmland and other locations: 34 bodies. Total: 141 bodies.

Bone-made artifacts: 231 items.

Among them: complete human skin products—specifically, one coat, two scarves, three pairs of gloves.

Bone tools: 37 skull caps, 54 bone bead strings, two leg bone mandalas, plus various miscellaneous items.

"This is too horrifying—what, the Potala Palace?" Uesugi Muneshige couldn't help but say: "In one's life, one must visit the Potala Palace—spinning prayer flags, beautiful thangkas, exquisite ritual implements, towering dignified dharma forms, fresh air, and even turning human bone rosaries on the holy lake to purify the soul… I feel like I belonged here in a past life."

"If you belonged to the Potala Palace in a past life, then you've actually had two lifetimes of it," Mai-senpai said helplessly: "The Potala Palace has a wall made of human skulls."

"Is this how cultivation works in the inner world?" Uesugi Muneshige said with a bitter smile: "Now I feel like I'm a living saint."

"The energy of the inner world largely comes from the 'po'—the corporeal soul that drives the body—and intense emotions coagulated into power." Mai-senpai sighed: "So you get it now? Like Akimoto Yasushi running idol general elections, or like me or GAKKl harvesting emotions through fan culture—those are already great acts of benevolence."

"And what about me? What about me?" Uesugi Muneshige bared his teeth.

"You're a lust demon," Mai-senpai snorted: "A great lust demon, a big-tailed wolf~"

"Wuuu wuuu wuuu wuuu, Senpai, how can you say that about me? You're breaking my heart!" Uesugi Muneshige said with a pained face: "Senpai, you've always been my Li Ji, Cao Bin, Xu Da, and Tu Hai!"

"Hmph, you're just a little cricket named Muneshige—really think you can overturn heaven? You're nothing but my Wan Zhen'er, Zheng Mengjing, Zhen Huan, and Wei Yingluo." Mai-senpai clearly wasn't buying Uesugi Muneshige's act.

Uesugi Muneshige pursed his lips and said nothing.

Councilor Nakazono rushed over, phone in hand, expression tense: "Chief, it's the Police Headquarters calling."

Uchimura Kanji took the call, listened for a few seconds, and his expression shifted—from solemn to something indescribably complex, like a sigh of relief mixed with something drawn tighter.

He hung up, walked over to Uesugi Muneshige, and said quietly: "Police Headquarters—Director Watanabe already knows. He said: 'Investigate thoroughly, leave no stone unturned. I'll personally oversee it.'"

Upon hearing this, Uesugi Muneshige's lips twitched upward slightly.

As expected.

His father had been in office less than a month—his inauguration's traditional three fiery initiatives hadn't even begun—yet Aomori had handed him a massive gift.

Over 140 bodies, more than 200 bone-made artifacts, a ranch colluding with local authorities for over a decade, and a madman attempting to ascend to godhood through heretical rites.

This gift was too large for one man to swallow—and too large for him to need to swallow it alone.

Uesugi Muneshige looked at Uchimura Kanji, and Uchimura Kanji looked back at him.

The two people's gazes met briefly in the wind and snow, neither speaking.

Both understood that from this moment on, the nature of this matter had changed—it was no longer a local case in Aomori Prefecture, no longer a simple narrative of "the ranch owner's personal crime."

Over one hundred forty corpses could not have been killed by one person, could not have been hidden by one person, could not have remained undiscovered, unquestioned, or uninvestigated for over a decade by anyone.

This was not the solo performance of a madman; this was a systemic, structural, tacitly permitted, concealed crime, digested as "cost" by collective action!

Investigate—give me a thorough investigation!

Watanabe Eiji was now completely excited!

Good, this is a good thing!

Police Commissioner, in office less than a month, was worried about having no chance to establish authority locally!

The special law just passed by the National Diet allows the Police Commissioner to directly guide local search operations in specific major cases.

Previously, the central government only had "advisory authority" over localities, not "command authority."

Now we do!

Aomori is where this authority is first exercised!

One hundred forty-plus corpses, over two hundred human bone products, a criminal network colluding with the local government for over a decade!

Heaven! Descend! Justice!

News from the Police Commissioner's office spread quickly.

The next morning, major media outlets' news flashes began rolling: Aomori; Ranch at Mount Hakkoda, over a hundred bodies! Human bone fragments piled over two hundred! The headline was restrained, but the numbers themselves were already explosive.

One hundred forty-one.

This number was repeatedly forwarded, discussed, questioned, confirmed, and discussed again on social media.

Some said it was exaggerated, some said it was a conspiracy, some said it was Japan's worst postwar tragedy, some said it was the darkest page of the Hikawa era. But all citizens asked the same question: Why? Why could a ranch bearing the "Social Welfare Corporation" sign kill so many people over a decade without anyone noticing?

Investigation results soon began to surface.

The subsidies, relief funds, and disability employment support funds received by the ranch owner from local and central government over more than a decade totaled over tens of billions of yen!

Each payment had a designated purpose, each bore signatures and seals, each was clearly recorded in the ledgers.

But where did the money go?

The ranch built no new facilities, bought no new equipment, did not improve living conditions for disabled persons, and even failed to deliver funds directly to the disabled persons themselves.

The money was divided into several portions: one went into the ranch owner's private account, one was used to grease local government relations, one maintained the ranch's minimal operations, and the rest was digested as "cost."

And those disabled persons were the greatest "cost."

A disabled person, upon "employment" at the ranch through a local welfare institution, could apply for over a million yen in annual subsidies; if they "resigned," the payments stopped.

But what if they "died"?

If their death went undiscovered? If their body was disposed of, but their "employed" status continued? Then their subsidies would keep being paid, monthly, until their "employed" status was revoked.

When would the "employed" status be revoked?

When someone came to investigate.

When would someone come to investigate?

Obviously, in my little life, Japan's national conditions are such that the Japanese are reserved and modest, deeply concerned with face and avoiding trouble; when facing those truly in need of aid, often only a flood-like approach can truly help, which is completely opposite to the U. S. —no one comes to investigate.

Because no one cares whether a disabled person's "employed" status is genuine, no one bothers to ask where a "formerly employed" disabled person went.

As previously mentioned, "waterfront strategy"—this is actually an extreme humiliation, so people avoid it; in reality, many believe "having resigned" is because aid recipients also feel repeated public disclosure and questioning are humiliating.

And what about this group of disabled persons?

They too feel ashamed to speak up; most believe they are already burdening society, and speaking up again would make them seem to repay kindness with enmity—something Japanese strongly resent.

"These people understand our national conditions too well." Kashiwagi Jin couldn't help but say: "This is clearly a meticulously designed scheme to exploit disability welfare funds, tailored to our system."

"Yes, now there's only one question: why do these people do this?" Uesugi Muneyuki nodded, gazing toward the distant ranch. "Of course, for the money." Kashiwagi Jin shrugged: "Perhaps some have special fetishes—I've heard white people go to certain places just to look at various bone tools and products made from human skin?"

"I don't mean that—I mean, why make the scene look like this?" Uesugi Muneyuki crossed his arms, speaking meaningfully: "To make it look like this, there must be some purpose, right?"

"What do you mean, Uesugi?" Kashiwagi Jin said thoughtfully.

"Call the Organized Crime Control Department to notify them." Uesugi Muneyuki said casually: "Also, request assistance from the Public Security Police."

"I have reason to believe this is a cult ritual." Uesugi Muneyuki said to Uchimura Kanji: "Please report immediately, and request Commissioner Watanabe to personally parachute in."

"Request the Commissioner to personally parachute in?" Uchimura Bucho hesitated slightly.

"Hmm." Uesugi Muneyuki blinked his eyes, then said: "I suspect this cult is related to the famous civilian religious organization that has recently risen in Kansai—the Unification Church."

"????!!!!" Shirakawa Mai suddenly lifted her head, looking at Uesugi Muneyuki.

Sōsetsu is planning total war?

"Good, I will immediately report upward! Request headquarters support!"