Chapter 954: The Dark Knight Caught?

Near Tokyo, Kanagawa Prefecture, Hachioji City.

The apartment building at dusk, its outer walls clad in those beige ceramic tiles popular in the late Showa era, gave off a faded warmth under the last rays of the setting sun. This was a fairly old apartment; monthly rent was only 40,000 yen, while just a few streets away, in Tokyo proper, an identical apartment would rent for 56,000 yen or more.

Even though the commute differed by only five minutes, even though 16,000 yen could cover ten days of food expenses, a huge crowd of young Japanese still chose to spend that extra money to live there.

Because that way, I'm a Tokyoite!

At 32, Kanzuka Makoto looked like a man with absolutely no distinguishing features; men like him filled the streets, and when he walked up the stairs he attracted no attention at all.

He had just returned from a day-labor job today, a convenience store plastic bag in hand, the corner of a retort curry package and a can of beer peeking out. He wore a dark blue work jacket washed pale, a stretch of bandage on his right hand protruding from the cuff, its tip slightly yellowed, as if it had been wrapped for several days without being changed.

He reached his own door on the fifth floor, but didn't open it immediately; he turned his head first to glance at the window at the far end of the hallway.

Outside the window, Tokyo's sky was shifting from leaden gray to dark purple, that color like the gradation on an old rag, no boundary visible. He opened the door, went in, closed it, set the shopping bag on the shoe cabinet. The room wasn't large, one bedroom one living room, sparse furniture; an old Toshiba television sat in the corner of the living room.

He took off his jacket and draped it over the chair back, unwrapped the bandage to glance at the wound beneath, then wrapped it back up, and walked to the television to press the power switch. The screen lit up; Fuji TV's evening news was broadcasting, the headline reading "Former Giant's 3rd son, daughter's false accusation leads to suicide SNS sympathy eight great逆耘「.

The screen showed a photo of the coach from when he was alive, wearing a dark blue training suit, standing at the edge of the field, profile to the camera, as if watching a runner rounding the bases.

His two daughters did not appear on camera, but their names were spoken by Tei Reiji: "The 18-year-old eldest daughter testified at the police station that she called the police on impulse after a quarrel with her father."

The male announcer added: "On the third day after his arrest, the father hanged himself in the detention center. Today, more relatives and informed persons have spoken out via social media, claiming the coach was innocent."

"Hehe, Tei-chan's still the same, beautiful enough to bubble!" Tongzhu Wazhen couldn't help showing a molester-like grin.

The Yomiuri Giants baseball coach, a team legend, a man earning 150 million yen annual salary, the man praised as having "guts" throughout his 15-year pro career — he probably never imagined in his wildest dreams he'd be brought down by his own daughter.

Because he had long served as a pro player and pro coach, he was comparatively uninvolved in family management; his extreme doting on his daughters was famous "daughter slave" behavior. One day he happened to come home and found his two daughters drinking at home and quarreling over pocket money; he himself had also been drinking for business entertainment, the team's poor performance putting heavy pressure on him as coach. In a moment of agitation he harshly scolded both daughters and "taught them a lesson," allegedly striking them twice, and emphasized that he alone supported this household, couldn't they stop causing him trouble?

Unexpectedly, these two daughters, used to being spoiled, never imagined their father would treat them like that; they instantly felt terribly wronged, and also felt: I'm your daughter, spending your money is only right, what right do you have to hit me?

So the two daughters consulted together and sought advice from others, finally deciding to give their father "a lesson."

The eldest daughter then called the police, claiming her father came home drunk and tried to rape her.

As a result, the father was arrested on the spot because of this; not only was he immediately fired by the team, but he was also expelled from the baseball major league, all honors stripped, and the police prepared to send him to the prosecutors.

Only then did the daughter realize she had caused a catastrophe; she hurriedly came out to clarify it was a false accusation.

And now the Japanese police and Japanese prosecutors were the ones embarrassed, because Japanese legal procedure works like this: once it starts turning it cannot stop. Originally the police system was still very excited, calling it a great merit; the prosecutors even more planned to make it an iron case, as Japan's alignment with the international "MeToo" movement, embracing the left-wing progressive wave, demonstrating prosecutorial progressiveness for inclusion in the Blue Book, and even planning a special episode in "Hand of God" showing Mai Xuejie and Uesugi Muneyuki unafraid of power, unafraid of baseball major league pressure, striking resolutely to bring the criminal to justice!

Now everyone is in a very awkward situation.

Supposedly many "sympathetic big sisters" from courts and district prosecutors' offices have gone to persuade the sisters to drop the clarification; anyway the dead cannot be resurrected, things have become like this and no one wants it, why don't you also not meddle further, we'll fully exercise our discretionary power at that time and award you a larger share of your father's estate.

Kanzuka Makoto sat on that old sofa, watching the photo on the screen, watched for a while, then picked up the remote control from the coffee table and changed the channel. Changed it and changed it back; facing the television screen, he slowly spoke one sentence: "Serves him right."

Tone not heavy, like talking to himself, still carrying three parts mockery, three parts contempt.

"Eight or nine times out of ten it's a believer of that whatever Night Come Hui, right?" He said casually, just about to eat something when a knocking sound came from outside the door — dong dong dong~

Dong dong dong~ dong dong~

Doesn't sound like a delivery; deliveries knock urgently. Doesn't sound like the neighbor apartment manager coming to fill forms; he'd knock gently.

Who is it?

Kanzuka Makoto's gaze moved from the television screen to that unlocked dark gray iron door.

He didn't rise immediately, listened for two seconds first, distinguishing the footsteps outside — not just one person, at least two, leather shoes treading on the hallway floor, sound reflected by the tiles, mixed with a kind of hard-to-detect determination. He stood up, walked over, opened the door a crack about ten centimeters wide. Okada Masayoshi and Kashiwagi Jin stood outside the door.

Both wore dark trench coats; Okada Masayoshi held a police handbook, flipped open, the three characters "Metropolitan Police Department" on the cover still clearly identifiable in the dim hallway light.

His gaze passed through the door crack into the room, voice steady and clear: "Are you Mr. Kanzuka Makoto? We're from the Metropolitan Police Department. Please come with us to assist in the investigation of a case."

Kanzuka Makoto's pupils contracted slightly. His gaze moved from Okada Masayoshi's face to Kashiwagi Jin's face, then back from Kashiwagi Jin's face to Okada Masayoshi's face.

Metropolitan Police Department Special Mission Division Supervisor, Okada Masayoshi, National Hero.

Metropolitan Police Department Criminal Investigation Division One, Section One Chief, Kashiwagi Jin, one of the Metropolitan Police Department's aces.

These two people...

He didn't open the door fully, only maintained that width, voice kept as calm as possible: "What case? I'm just a day laborer, what case could I be involved in? Did you get the wrong person?"

Kashiwagi Jin stepped forward half a pace; his way of speaking was more direct, like a sword already drawn from its scabbard: "Mr. Kanzuka, do you know Sasaki Ayaka? Also, do you know Motoki Honke? Your younger sister, Tongzhu Mingli, 25 years old, half a year ago failed to get a job at a large enterprise and attempted suicide, correct?"

"We found that she had originally passed the preliminary screening for that position, but was ultimately replaced by another person. You spent half a year stalking that person, then followed her to find Motoki Honke. You killed him." Okada Masayoshi's expression was somewhat complex.

Kanzuka Makoto stood behind the door crack, his right hand hanging at his side, bandage showing from the cuff, the yellow at its tip slightly darkened. His gaze moved away from Kashiwagi Jin's face, settling on some unfocused spot far down the hallway, silent for a moment: "I don't know what you're talking about." His voice was lower than before, but still steady, as if striving to maintain some kind of level continuity.

Kashiwagi Jin's gaze fell on his right hand, paused for an instant: "How did you injure your hand?"

"Scraped it working at a construction site. Work injury, nothing major."

"Would a work injury be on the knuckles of the back of the hand? That kind of wound in forensic medicine is usually classified as a 'striking injury.'"

Kanzuka Makoto didn't speak.

The air froze for an instant in the door crack, like some kind of expanding force about to prop something open from inside.

His body didn't move, but his breathing rhythm changed; his left hand suddenly reached toward a corner of the shoe cabinet, the motion very fast, like a spring compressed to its limit suddenly releasing.

Okada Masayoshi and Kashiwagi Jin both reacted simultaneously, but a beat slow.

Kanzuka Makoto's fingers had already grabbed that palm-sized bottle, pressing it down toward Okada Masayoshi's face. A fine white mist exploded in the air, carrying a pungent chemical smell.

Okada Masayoshi instinctively turned his head, but some of the white mist still drilled into his eyes and nasal cavity.

His body leaned back, knees buckled, one hand braced on the wall, the other covering his face: "Uwah!" It's anti-wolf spray! Retreat, retreat, damn it!

Kashiwagi Jin was behind him, right in the angle blocked by Okada Masayoshi; the spray didn't hit his face directly, but he was also choked by that pungent smell into retreating repeatedly, forearm blocking his mouth and nose, eyes narrowed to a slit: "Ugh ah!"

You're a man, why do you have anti-wolf spray?

Kanzuka Makoto didn't wait. He shoved the door open, squeezed out sideways through the gap between the two men, bare feet treading on the hallway floor, sprinting toward the stairwell entrance. He didn't run very fast, but every step landed solid. He had to burst out of that building; as long as he ran out that stairwell iron door, reached the street, ducked into the nearest alley, those police couldn't catch him. His footsteps echoed in the stairwell, each flight of stairs rapidly left behind.

Until he stopped at the third-floor stairwell landing.

Metropolitan Police Department's Ultimate Weapon Uesugi Muneyuki stood there, wearing a dark gray long trench coat, unbuttoned, collar slightly open, like a statue that had stood there for a long time.

The famous high-cold big-throw judo beauty policewoman Ikeda Erena stood beside him, center of gravity slightly forward, ready to strike at any moment. The appearance of the two people was like blocking that only exit into a wall. Ikeda Erena didn't speak, only looked at Kanzuka Makoto, giving him a necessary warning before he could make any superfluous move.

Kanzuka Makoto stood on that step, gaze rapidly switching between the two people, as if calculating whether there was any other way out. He glanced back behind him; Okada Masayoshi was walking over from the hallway, eye corners somewhat red, but pace already steady; Kashiwagi Jin followed behind him, gaze coldly fixed on Kanzuka Makoto.

People in front, people behind.

Uesugi Muneyuki's voice wasn't loud, but in the stairwell it was reflected clearly by the walls: "Stop running, Mr. Kanzuka. Outside it's all police, you can't escape. The things you did for your sister, we've investigated thoroughly. You don't need to run anymore."

"Moreover, you should be grateful that this is Japan; if it were in the United States, making that motion of pulling something out would have already gotten your magazine emptied." Uesugi Muneyuki looked at Kanzuka Makoto's anti-wolf spray: "You're prepared, but not sufficiently."

Kanzuka Makoto let out an angry shout, casually threw the anti-wolf spray at Uesugi Muneyuki, then strode toward the window in the third-floor hallway. The window was small, barely enough for a person to turn sideways and squeeze out, outside was a layer of anti-theft net—however, that thin wire mesh in this old apartment building had already rusted for a long time, merely never replaced by anyone.

His fingers had just touched the edge of that window when the scene before him made him startle.

The empty space in front of the apartment building, the passage behind it, and the sidewalks on both sides were already filled with people.

Dozens of people in police uniforms had surrounded the building from all directions, enclosing the entire area; moreover, dozens of people in various suits stood around the perimeter, obviously also police.

He saw the police cars lined up in a row, their bodies reflecting dark light in the evening's faint glow.

The front, rear, and side alleys of the apartment building were all tightly sealed, entirely by police.

"Hah, hah hah hah hah hahaha~ Is this…… a promotion ritual? How magnificent!" Kanzuka couldn't help laughing; seeing this scene, he felt no fear or discouragement, but instead let out a long exhale: "Truly worthy of the Japanese police's final weapon—although I don't know how you came up with this idea, but correct, I am the darkknight you speak of, that is, the dark knight!" "You found me precisely! You guys, not bad at all!" Tongzhu Wazhen even patted Kashiwagi Jin on the arm as he ran over, his face full of relief and the release of accepting a lost bet: "Indeed, you police only muster such determination to deploy so much force at times like this—I really thank the taxpayers for you, oh!"

After speaking, Kanzuka Makoto stretched out both hands: "Cuff me."

"?" Kashiwagi Jin and Okada Masayoshi exchanged a glance, still produced the handcuffs, with a "click," they cuffed this guy. Instantly, a message spread throughout all of Tokyo!

Dark Knight, Captured!