23: Chapter 23: The Monthly Gift Case

The next morning, on the fourth floor of Fujino's building.

In the dimly lit room from his very first day in this world, Fujino stood contemplating the red-string evidence board on the wall.

Come to think of it, the original Fujino Douji's parents were actually quite famous entrepreneurs in Japan.

Their company, the Fujino Corporation, was a major player, part of Japan's upper echelon of powerful conglomerates... Young Fujino Douji was originally a rich kid.

His parents were caught in a robbery while returning home after attending an opera. The official story was that the robbers accidentally killed them.

But Fujino suspected otherwise. This wasn't an accident; it was a premeditated murder.

After their deaths, the massive Fujino Corporation quickly declined, eventually being carved up and absorbed by rival conglomerates... leaving behind significant debt.

Fujino, still a high school student at the time, was forced to renounce his inheritance to avoid the crushing debt, keeping only the Ford Taurus and this small four-story building.

Just like that, Fujino Douji's life as a wealthy heir ended.

He had to become a detective, scraping by on meager commission fees.

Before his untimely death from illness, the original Fujino had been relentlessly investigating the truth behind his parents' murder.

But after a year, he'd found nothing concrete. The stress, combined with his weakened state, likely contributed to his succumbing to that final cold.

"Parents murdered after an opera in Beika City..."

Fujino squinted at the photo of the young couple pinned to the wall, his mind racing.

Combining his memories from his past life with what he knew of this world, he strongly suspected his parents were embroiled in some larger conspiracy...

He had a hunch.

A strong hunch involving this world's main antagonists: the Black Organization.

The fact that the killers were never caught, the lingering mystery surrounding the case – it all pointed in that direction.

"Can't be certain it was the Organization... but it feels connected..." Fujino muttered, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

He sighed. "But facing the Black Organization now... that's way beyond my current capabilities..."

Even if the Organization was riddled with double agents, they were still incredibly dangerous.

Gin, that workaholic psycho, flew around in attack helicopters shooting up landmarks. What chance did a frail high school kid have against that? He'd need to be able to dodge bullets, at the very least.

"So, making money is still the key, huh?"

Money. It was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what he needed most right now.

Not just to escape his current precarious financial state, but to get stronger – system upgrades, better gear.

Right now, with just his wooden sword, a few boost cards, and one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enhancement skill... he could get shot without even knowing who pulled the trigger.

"Excuse me, is Detective Fujino home?"

A man's voice called out from outside the door.

"Detective Fujino?"

Fujino paused. People calling him 'Detective' usually meant clients... Another case already?

Business had been picking up rapidly... Could it be because of the publicity from the Moonlight Island case yesterday?

A happy smile spread across Fujino's face.

Today was his day off anyway; earning a little extra cash wouldn't hurt.

With pleasant anticipation, he opened the door—only to be confronted by a mountain of gifts piled high on his doorstep. Before he could react, the precarious tower of presents collapsed, burying him completely.

Fujino, caught completely off guard, vanished beneath an avalanche of brightly wrapped boxes.

"Oh dear! I'm so sorry, Detective Fujino!"

A man with a square jaw, dressed in a brown suit, rushed forward apologetically, reaching down to help Fujino up.

Fujino noticed the man's hands – fingers covered in numerous small cuts and scars.

A surgeon?

A calculating glint entered Fujino's eyes.

This could be lucrative...

Fujino coughed, waving the man's hand away.

Struggling to his feet amidst the sea of gift boxes, Fujino fixed the man with his characteristic dead-fish eyes.

"So, sir, what brings you here on a weekend? A case, I presume?"

"Yes, actually, there is something I need your help with, Detective Fujino..."

The man gathered the scattered gift boxes, then sat down on the sofa and began to explain his situation.

His name was Ogawa. His problem, starting two years ago, was receiving anonymous gifts every month – money and toys.

The toys weren't the issue; he gave those to his five-year-old son.

But the money... it was unsettling.

It kept increasing, now totaling twenty-five million yen. He was constantly anxious, wondering about the sender's motives.

"Mr. Ogawa, I believe I understand your situation,"

Fujino said after listening patiently. He cleared his throat.

"So, you want me to find the person sending you these things?"

"Yes, exactly,"

Ogawa nodded.

"And if possible, find out why they're doing it."

"Hmm. Could it be a former patient of yours?"

"How did you know I'm a doctor?"

Ogawa asked, surprised.

"Just a deduction,"

Fujino replied smoothly, steepling his fingers under his chin, mimicking a classic detective pose.

"Your index fingers have numerous small cuts, characteristic of a surgeon. Plus, you smell faintly of disinfectant."

"You're right..."

Ogawa was impressed. This detective hadn't missed a single detail. He really is good.

He nodded.

"I came straight here after an emergency surgery. I didn't realize it was so obvious."

"It's merely basic observation for a detective,"

Fujino boasted modestly, not batting an eye.

He then asked pointedly,

"Since you're a surgeon, is it possible a former patient sent these gifts? As thanks for 'saving' their life, perhaps?"

"I've already asked my former patients... It wasn't any of them,"

Ogawa shook his head.

"Any other clues besides the gifts themselves?"

Fujino pressed.

"Clues..."

Ogawa thought for a moment.

"Ah!"

He pulled an envelope from his inner pocket and handed it to Fujino.

"This letter arrived today. I don't know if it counts as a clue."

Fujino took the letter and examined it.

Inside, a message constructed from cut-out newspaper letters read:

'The 25 million yen has been paid. Now it's your turn to feel it.'

Fujino's brow furrowed.

"Detective Fujino, did you find something?"

Ogawa asked anxiously, noticing the change in Fujino's expression.

"If I'm not mistaken..."

Fujino looked up, his eyes serious.

"The sender's real target... is your son."