78: Chapter 78: An Organization's Peripheral Member?

He paused the recording.

Zoom in. Zoom in again.

Then, he saw it. Right before impact, the truck driver seemed to pull something off the windshield, clutching it in his hand.

Rewind the footage, rewind further...

In the earlier, more distant shot, the object the man pulled from the windshield was none other than a pink Hello Kitty charm!

But why would a single, middle-aged man hang a Hello Kitty charm in his dump truck?

Was he secretly harboring a girlish heart?

Unlikely...

But if it belonged to a girl...

At that thought, Fujino's gaze froze.

That's right. A girl.

If the file was correct, Miyamoto Nijisaburo did have a daughter.

Although the medical records claimed she died two years ago...

Medical records could be falsified.

"If my guess is correct..."

Fujino's brow furrowed deeply as he stared at the wall of evidence.

"Then this situation is far more complicated than I imagined."

Night deepened. Fujino parked the Ford Taurus near Beika Town's 4th Chome.

He walked along the side streets, making a few turns before arriving at a two-story residential house.

The house had a red-painted roof and a brick wall about two meters high. The gate was made of black wrought iron bars, offering a clear view into the yard.

Fujino checked the nameplate on the gatepost, confirming this was the Miyamoto residence.

[100% Strength Enhancement Activated. Remaining Time: 59 seconds]

With the un-enlarged bokken wrapped around his wrist, and boosted by the strength card, Fujino easily scaled the two-meter brick wall.

He dropped silently into the yard, landing softly and steadying himself.

After confirming the front door was locked, Fujino looked up towards an open window on the second floor.

Glancing at the remaining enhancement time, he took a deep breath, found purchase on the wall's protrusions, and skillfully climbed up to the second floor, slipping inside the room.

Unlike the typically messy room of a single man living alone, this small room was remarkably clean.

The tidiness suggested someone cleaned it regularly.

Searching the room, he found a few outdated but fashionable clothes in the closet, along with some undergarments.

Closing the closet,

Fujino discovered a pink diary with a lock in the desk drawer.

'Gently' forcing the lock, he opened it. It was indeed a diary.

Reading through it, he learned the owner was Miyamoto Minako, about nineteen years old, a graduate student.

The last entry was dated a year and a half ago, written hastily.

It vaguely implied she could no longer write in the diary there.

"According to the medical records, Miyamoto Minako should have died two years ago."

Fujino looked at the diary in his hand, a faint smile touching his lips.

Putting the diary away, he continued searching the room.

Unfortunately, the search yielded no other useful clues.

He only found about fifty thousand yen in cash and a few photographs.

One photo showed a young girl, maybe eight or nine years old, standing beside a much younger-looking Miyamoto Nijisaburo. Beside them stood a woman with a gentle, kind aura.

It was a happy family portrait.

The woman must have been Mrs. Miyamoto, who died ten years ago.

Vroom!

Suddenly, the sound of an engine approached from outside the house.

Fujino frowned at the noise.

He quickly donned the Assassin's Robes, put on the Batman mask, and hid inside the second-floor closet.

Outside, three men dressed in black suits, black hats, and black sunglasses got out of a black car.

After picking the front gate lock, they put on shoe covers, carried in a black briefcase and several gasoline cans, and entered the house.

"Heard the mess we're cleaning up this time also involves a peripheral member."

"For a peripheral member to warrant this level of cleanup from the Organization... quite something."

"Stop talking nonsense. Let's just get this done and get out..."

One of the men added with a cold laugh,

"Who knows, maybe one day we'll end up like this too."

As the three chatted casually, they failed to notice a figure slip silently past them.

"Organization members?"

Observing the three men, Fujino frowned, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his mind racing.

Honestly, with such a distinct, uniform-like attire...

Besides the Black Organization, he couldn't think of any other group that dressed like this.

But just to be safe, he decided to observe further.

What if it wasn't the Organization, but some other minor group?

Meanwhile, two of the men who had just entered began their work.

After confirming the house was empty, one started dousing the interior with gasoline from the cans.

The other went to the kitchen and opened the main gas valve. The hissing sound of gas filled the air, spreading through the rooms.

The third man remained in the living room, holding the black briefcase, seemingly fiddling with something inside it.

Fujino watched the man with the briefcase, his frown deepening.

He recognized that briefcase. It contained a bomb.

It looked identical to the one he'd seen on the Shinkansen – likely the same model.

"Task complete."

After setting the bomb in the living room, the man stretched, then started to sit down on the sofa for a break.

After all, this place would soon be ashes.

"Urgh..."

Suddenly, just as he was about to sit, the man felt a sharp sting in his side, like an insect bite.

Before he could even look down, his vision went black, and he collapsed.

Then, a dark... no, white figure suddenly appeared, dragging the unconscious man into a dark corner of the living room.

In the corner, Fujino, clad in the Assassin's Robes, quickly frisked the unconscious man.

After pocketing the man's wallet, he continued searching and felt something hard.

"He even has a gun?"

Fujino pulled the handgun from the man's inner jacket pocket with a curious expression.

It was an M37 revolver, fully loaded with six rounds.

The standard issue sidearm for Japanese police.

Maybe this guy 'acquired' it from a police officer, Fujino speculated.

He retrieved the Batarang from the man's side and pocketed the captured revolver into his dimension space.

Even though it was just an M37...

Honestly, in two lifetimes, this was the first time Fujino had ever held a real handgun.