Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

Standing in the gruesome expanse formed of blood, brain matter, severed limbs, and internal organs—

The girl, dyed crimson from head to toe, stretched her hand toward him.

“Let’s go, Assistant-kun.”

“…”

The Novelist slowly opened his eyes from his slumber, quietly gazing upward.

‘An unfamiliar ceiling’

This thought surfaced in his mind.

Human senses are truly remarkable. Although the white-painted ceiling entering his vision was fundamentally the same as any other, he instantly recognized that he was in an unfamiliar place.

He blinked unconsciously, confirming that something was different. Unlike waking up in his bedroom at Amazu Manor, his ears were filled with anxious, clamorous voices, rushing into his pulsating eardrums.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

A gentle male voice came from beside him.

He saw the face of a stubbly man wearing a light blue shirt.

…Like a reflection in water. As he emerged from his hazy dream, his sluggish brain gradually cleared and began functioning normally. The Novelist realized he had fallen asleep while reclining in a chair, staring at the ceiling.

He sat up properly, a sharp, electric pain shooting through his neck. Having maintained the same position for too long, his head had become stiff and rigid. The Novelist even wondered if his neck might have broken.

He rotated the chair to face the man before him.

The man appeared to be between thirty-five and forty years old, not particularly tall, with a gaunt face, deeply sunken eye sockets, and heavy bags under his eyes.

The cuffs of his shirt were wrinkled, and the stubble on his chin hadn’t been properly shaved. He seemed like someone who had gone without regular sleeping and eating habits for a long time, yet his pupils were unusually bright and alert.

“May I ask who…?”

“Kazuki Kaichirou.”

The man smiled and extended his hand.

“Just call me Kaichirou.”

The Novelist shook his hand, though somewhat puzzled. From their brief interaction, this man seemed excessively friendly.

Generally speaking, there existed a status gap between working adults and high school students. For two people without any prior relationship to display such warmth during their first meeting was slightly perplexing.

…Of course, this kind of social hierarchy meant nothing to the Novelist. He was merely confused by the man’s attitude.

Perhaps he knew about his relationship with Yayoi or Kaori-san? No, impossible. He quickly dismissed the thought.

“You came here with that ojou-sama, so I wouldn’t dare treat you like an ordinary high school student,” Kazuki-san said with a laugh, as if reading his thoughts.

“Ojou-sama”…

I see, he’s referring to senpai.

The Novelist tapped his temple and sighed unconsciously.

He finally remembered what had happened earlier.

His holiday date with Asami-senpai had ended with a bloody, hellish scene. The officers who had been handling Jin and the others rushed to the scene after receiving the news. The police quickly cordoned off the area.

Afterward, Asami Yuko and he were taken to Sakuradamon in a car.

He had been accommodated in an empty office, while senpai went to attend an emergency meeting…

What time was it now?

The Novelist looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. The hands pointed to five in the afternoon.

It was already that late… Nearly six hours had passed since they arrived here. He hadn’t even had lunch.

The once-empty spacious office was now bustling with activity, with people carrying documents constantly entering and exiting. It formed a stark contrast to the previously silent, deserted impression.

The officers in the room were either shouting loudly into phones, engaging in conversations that resembled arguments more than discussions, or focusing intently on processing documents at their computer screens, completely ignoring the surrounding noise.

Everywhere was a scene of busyness. The fax machine worked relentlessly, spitting out white papers without pause, while copied forms and files were scattered about, trampled into dirty piles by the shoes of passersby.

“…This is my first time seeing such a scene. Before, I could only witness this on TV or the big screen…”

The Novelist couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder. There was a feeling of being an outsider, out of place. But that was precisely the case—yet the scene before him was so similar to what he had imagined that he found it somewhat fascinating.

“Ahaha, how should I put it? This is actually a rather special situation,” Kazuki-san said with a wry smile beside him.

“Normally when I come here, people aren’t this busy. Only when facing extremely tense situations, when the higher-ups are also under considerable pressure…”

His tone paused momentarily.

“Officers on break and even some retired veterans have been recalled to headquarters by the Metropolitan Police Department. The last time things were this dramatic was three years ago.”

The Novelist keenly noticed certain information hidden in his words. From his manner of speaking, he seemed, like himself, not to be a member of the police department.

He quickly noticed the ID badge hanging on Kazuki Kaichirou’s chest.

“Public Prosecutor’s Office, Special Investigation Department.”

That’s what it read.

…I see, he’s a prosecutor from the Special Investigation Department. Unlike himself who had entered through connections, this was a professional from a relevant field officially permitted to enter.

“Kazuki-san, why are you here?”

The Novelist wasn’t questioning his intentions.

The fourth mass suicide incident had raised the death toll to thirteen. With this latest being a subway track suicide, numerous civilians had witnessed the tragedy; the Tokyo subway station, which normally saw countless passengers daily, had been temporarily cordoned off by the police.

One could imagine the tsunami-like reaction from internet and social media treating the “suicide wave” as a hot topic.

For the police, the situation was even worse. The crime announcement they had initially dismissed as a prank now had to be taken seriously. Asami-senpai’s conjecture might well be correct.

This meant the case involved a major crime with 25 victims—24 deaths and 1 injury—and showed no signs of stopping.

Such an abnormal incident attracting widespread social attention would inevitably involve collaborative investigation by multiple government departments in Tokyo.

However, against this backdrop, the prosecutor seemed unusually relaxed.

“…Because the meeting hasn’t officially started yet.”

Kazuki Kaichirou evidently understood his meaning. However, a mischievous smile soon appeared on his face as he winked at the Novelist.

“I’m here to get you. Asami-san has been keeping everyone waiting, saying ‘We won’t start until Assistant-kun arrives’… That’s what she said.”