This Japanese Monogatari Isn't Lame
Chapter 271 - 211. Just as Usual (4000-word target achieved!)_2

Chapter 271: 211. Just as Usual (4000-word target achieved!)_2

What color is brain matter?!

Ugetsu Ka struggled to get up, having already broken several ribs, she was utterly unable to stand. The only thing she could do was fumble around with bottles, attempting to hurl them at Beichuan Si.

Beichuan Si stepped directly on her wrist!

Accompanied by a crisp snapping sound, her face contorted in pain.

Beichuan Si kicked her on the other side of her body, sending Ugetsu Ka rolling under a two-tiered shelf.

She felt as if her whole body was falling apart; she could only twitch in agony, lying on the ground, groaning unclearly.

Beichuan Si, without a word, dragged Suzuki Fumi from the ground, and without saying a word, punched him hard in the face.

A large swelling immediately appeared on Suzuki Fumi’s face.

In pain, he looked at the expressionless Beichuan Si and muttered, "Let me go, Beichuan Mage. I’ll turn myself in, please."

Beichuan Si, instead of heeding Suzuki Fumi’s pleas, raised his hand and struck him in the abdomen.

With such force, Suzuki Fumi’s body jerked, and he couldn’t stop vomiting.

"Here we are, fifteen meters underground, and with added soundproofing, Dean Suzuki."

Beichuan Si lifted him up again, threw another punch, and coldly chuckled, "I had already called the police before coming here, hoping we three can get along a bit ’nicer’ during this period before the police arrive."

"...Beichuan..."

Suzuki Fumi was weakly lifted up again.

"Even if you die quietly here, who would know?" Beichuan Si hoisted him up and then slammed his body to the ground, kicking him forcefully.

Bang!

The impact of the body against the wall caused the shelves to tremble.

Looking at the nearly broken pair, Beichuan Si exhaled a breath of foul air.

He had known from the beginning that Ugetsu Ka was involved in this, and his wasting words with Suzuki Fumi—given this context—was because—

Beichuan Si took out a voice recorder from his pocket.

The recorder was pale pink, given to Beichuan Si by Shen Gu Mirai during the last investigation of Michika Shima. He subsequently had forgotten to return it to Shen Gu Mirai because of Suzuki Fumi’s involvement.

It had recorded all the words spoken just now by Suzuki Fumi and Ugetsu Ka.

Lying on the ground, Ugetsu Ka and Suzuki Fumi also saw the voice recorder in Beichuan Si’s hand, despair showing on their faces.

If anything else could be argued, how would one explain the voices in the recorder?

Even if voices could be manipulated, what about the gunshots and the handgun found at the scene?

Anyway, Suzuki Fumi was probably going to spend the rest of his life in prison.

No... perhaps not in prison.

Beichuan Si turned his head to the side.

From the basement entrance, slow and heavy footsteps were heard.

There were no traces of decay, indicating the absence of deathly aura.

A dark silhouette, carrying a shovel, slowly appeared at the basement stairs.

This was a wandering spirit, and it was Nami Kawakami.

As mentioned before, Nami Kawakami wasn’t a vengeful ghost... to be precise, he had not yet transformed into one.

The soul energy he exuded was merely that of a wandering spirit.

Neither benign nor malevolent.

Beichuan Si hadn’t exorcised Nami Kawakami, and the engineer’s shovel being intact also indicated this.

There was no deathly aura attached, so the shovel bore no signs of erosion.

Every action prior was merely a pretense in front of Suzuki Fumi.

The same old saying applies; don’t assume a stoic face can’t perform.

Beichuan Si believed he was quite capable of handling things well.

"Ah... Ah..."

Ugetsu Ka eked out a sound of terror from her throat, her limbs twitching in fright as she looked at the tall, dark figure.

Nami Kawakami’s head had been smashed, though the rest of his body was intact. However, his deathly appearance made him look utterly terrifying.

Eyes bulging out, mouth unconsciously open, viscous brownish-yellow fluid consistently dripping from his forehead, his body covered in scars...

Beichuan Si saw Nami Kawakami, and naturally, Nami Kawakami also saw Beichuan Si.

Holding the shovel, he approached the petrified Ugetsu Ka and Suzuki Fumi.

The blood-stained, icy shovel was raised—

But Beichuan Si chose to remain an observer.

He had no right to stop Nami Kawakami’s revenge.

Bang!

The shovel fell heavily amidst the desperate, terrified screams of Ugetsu Ka and Suzuki Fumi.

Then—

It struck the ground forcefully.

Kawakami Nami stopped, a flicker of clarity passing through his vindictive eyes.

He struggled to step back twice, handing the shovel to Beichuan Si at his side.

"Hmm?"

Beichuan Si looked at his actions strangely.

Was Kawakami Nami... asking him to pick up the shovel?

This shovel was formed from the thoughts of Kawakami Nami, and there might be something lingering inside.

Beichuan Si pondered for a moment and reached out to grasp the shovel.

Memories began to flow.

It was last Monday when Kawakami Nami, after checking on Nanami Qiao, planned to go to the office building to ask Suzuki Fumi for a couple of days off to visit his mother.

As he approached the door of the office building, strange noises emanated from the stairwell on the right.

Kawakami Nami happened to see Suzuki Fumi pulling a gurney past.

Driven by inexplicable curiosity, Kawakami Nami silently followed Suzuki Fumi’s steps and subsequently discovered this basement used for handling bodies.

He questioned Suzuki Fumi angrily, but Suzuki Fumi merely laughed dismissively, uttering the same words as when he had met Beichuan Si.

Just as Kawakami Nami was refusing righteously and about to call the police, a dark, sharp shovel brutally smashed into the back of his head, sending him spinning, spitting blood and convulsing as he collapsed to the floor.

Lying on the ground, Kawakami Nami’s eyes widened, his pupils reflecting the figure holding the shovel—

Ugetsu Ka.

The memory ended there.

And that was the cause of Kawakami Nami’s death.

Beichuan Si reopened his eyes, only to find Kawakami Nami had knelt down.

Dark spiritual energy entwined his form, with wisps of resentment swirling around it.

"The hands of a doctor are meant to save lives."

Beichuan Si murmured this phrase.

This was the most frequent refrain of Kawakami Nami when resisting Suzuki Fumi’s temptations.

Perhaps it was the baseline of Kawakami Nami as a doctor; though he was just a newcomer, he always had his ethical boundaries.

Even as a wandering spirit, Kawakami Nami chose not to seek revenge personally.

By handing the shovel to Beichuan Si, he had made his intentions very clear.

Kawakami Nami was still in the form of a spirit, but if this continued, his resentment would only grow, and becoming a vengeful ghost was imminent.

If he was to become a harmful ghost, it would be better for Beichuan Si to end him now.

Beichuan Si remained silent for a long time.

Kawakami Nami also maintained his neck-stretching posture for a long while.

Beichuan Si gently shook his head, his wrist flicking as the thick Jian Ding fell into his hand—

Whoosh!!!

Dark liquid splattered everywhere!

Under Beichuan Si’s gaze, Kawakami Nami’s spiritual body gradually dissipated.

The spiritual body transformed into strangely beautiful particles that fluttered up and down, quickly flying out of the basement and toward the main building of the Second Psychiatric Hospital.

The night had deepened, and most of the patients were already asleep.

But Nanami Qiao was tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Her mind restless, unsure of what to do.

The bored little girl could only drag her patient’s slippers, dressed in blue and white striped patient clothes, to the window.

Nanami Qiao saw the particles.

Particles that fluttered beautifully and eerily throughout the sky.

Just as if saying goodbye to Nanami Qiao, the particles spun around and soared into the high sky.

"Big brother Minghai..."

Nanami Qiao watched the particles and then took a deep breath—

"Thank you! Big brother Minghai! Goodbye!!! Big brother Minghai!!!"

The crisp childish voice carried far... very far...

This was a day at the Second Psychiatric Hospital.

And it was a day just like any other.

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