Tokyo: From Lawless Madpolice to Minister
Chapter 451 - 397: Since When Do Bad People Have ’Bad’ Written on Their Faces? _2

Chapter 451: Chapter 397: Since When Do Bad People Have ’Bad’ Written on Their Faces? _2

Aoyama Xiu Xin entered the living room with curiosity.

"Chief of Police Aoyama!" Ryosuke and Chiyoko, who had already stood up and were waiting, hurriedly bowed in unison.

Because the room was warm, it was somewhat hot to keep wearing their coats, so both took theirs off, leaving Hashimoto Chiyoko wearing a turtleneck sweater that was quite sexy.

The sky blue jeans clung tightly to her perky buttocks and plump thighs, outlining the tempting lines of her beautiful legs, voluptuous yet not greasy, whetting one’s appetite.

"There’s no need for such formalities," Xiu Xin waved his hand and sat down, "What do you need from me?"

"Chief, we’ve come to report that city hall officials and the police are colluding, lying about the number of deaths in last night’s stampede, and even threatening the victims’ families," Ryosuke said indignantly.

Hashimoto Chiyoko added, with a tense face, "In order to keep the news from leaking, they shamelessly forbid the victims’ families from claiming the bodies, and even privately cremated them. They also forced the families to wait a month before holding funerals under different pretexts."

"Ah!" Aoyama Haruko exclaimed, her indignation flaring, "How could they be so awful!"

"Is this true?" Aoyama Xiu Xin’s face changed instantly, he sat up straight, and looked at them solemnly, "This matter is no small concern. Are you willing to stand by what you’ve said? Do you have any evidence?"

Damn, the fools at police headquarters can’t even handle this, lucky for me I have a good reputation, leading these naïve idiots right to me.

Otherwise, who knows what other complications might arise.

"We are! We guarantee that every word we say is true!" Both answered without hesitation and in unison, and then Hashimoto Chiyoko continued, "We’ve contacted a family member of a victim who is not afraid to challenge authority and is willing to come forward with the truth. He even has 200,000 US Dollars from the police as evidence."

"What’s his name?" asked Xiu Xin.

"It’s Mr. Muranishi. I don’t know his first name, but his son who died in last night’s stampede was Muranishi Toshi; he was my colleague," Ryosuke answered.

"Alright, I understand," Xiu Xin nodded solemnly, "You’ve come to the right person. However, this is not an ordinary matter. I need to investigate first. Give me a business card, and I will contact you if I need your cooperation. For your safety, don’t tell anyone about this; trust no one’s words."

"Hey! Rest assured, Chief Aoyama, we only trust you!" Hashimoto Chiyoko said, pursing her lips.

Ryosuke then pulled out a business card and handed it over with both hands.

After receiving it, Xiu Xin gave them one of his own, "If you have any problems, call me. Thank you for your trust. It’s getting late, go home and rest."

"Hey! Then we will take our leave!" After exchanging glances, Ryosuke and Chiyoko stood up, bowed, and left.

"Please be careful on your way out," Haruko saw them off, closing the door behind them. She returned, puffing with anger, "Xiu Xin, those bureaucrats have gone too far. You must expose them!"

"Big sister, you’re too innocent, too kind," Aoyama Xiu Xin sighed, and pulled her into his embrace, touching her ample conscience, "How can you be sure those reporters are telling the truth? I’m new here, and it’s not out of the question that someone’s trying to use me before I get to understand the situation."

"Ah!" Haruko gasped, biting her red lips, "But they don’t seem to be bad people."

"Since when do bad people write ’bad’ across their faces?" Aoyama Xiu Xin said with a resigned smile.

He was certainly qualified to make that statement.

Then, he pecked her on the lips with an ambiguous smile, "Alright, big sister, you go upstairs and clean yourself up, I’ll make a few calls. If this is true, I definitely won’t ignore it."

"Mm-hmm," Aoyama Haruko blushed, nodded timidly, and left his embrace, clumsily straightening her disheveled clothes before hurrying upstairs with her head down.

After his sister-in-law left, Aoyama Xiu Xin’s expression instantly turned grim as he grabbed the phone and called Nakamura Shinichi.

"Take two men with you now, and then..."

Then he called Fujimoto Takayoshi and repeated the issue of the two reporters who had sought him out.

"That idiot!" Fujimoto Takayoshi cursed the Disaster Countermeasures Officer for his incompetence, then took a deep breath and said, "I’ll handle those two reporters."

"I’ll take care of it myself, I just wanted to inform you," Aoyama Xiu Xin said indifferently, having already instructed Nakamura Shinichi to deal with it on his way out.

He was quite interested in that short-haired female reporter.

Curious to test her abilities and depths.

Fujimoto Takayoshi: "Then I’ll leave it to Mr. Aoyama."

"After all, I’m also a member of the headquarters."

.........

About thirty minutes later, Nakamura Shinichi personally arrived with two officers and rang the doorbell of the Muranishi family.

"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"

"Who is it? What’s the matter?"

"Police! Open up! If you don’t open, we’re breaking in!" Nakamura Shinichi warned fiercely.

Inside, Mr. and Mrs. Muranishi’s faces turned pale with fright.

After dawdling for a while, they finally opened the door.

As soon as a gap appeared, Nakamura Shinichi burst in and grabbed Mr. Muranishi by the collar, pinning him against the wall, and snarled, "Old man, you’d rather face the penalty than toast with respect? You took the money and promised to keep quiet, and yet today, just a test by two people revealed everything."

On hearing this, Mr. and Mrs. Muranishi were both shocked and outraged, having not expected the two reporters to be arranged by the police, while also feeling a sense of desolation, as they truly had been awakened by the reporters’ righteous words.

Only to discover now that the reporters had come to test them, and at the turn of a head, betrayed them.

One can only imagine how devastated they felt.

"This is just a warning for tonight. If you don’t stay in line, I’ll make sure your son dies with his name dragged through the mud!" Nakamura Shinichi bullied the old man without any qualms, sneering, "Do you actually believe your son was a conscience-driven journalist who pursued the truth at all costs? He was nothing but a selfish scoundrel, taking bribes and fabricating fake news. We have evidence, and how about we expose it, believe it or not?"

"No, please! I’m begging you, please don’t do that, I was wrong, we were wrong, we really know it!" Mr. Muranishi instantly collapsed, desperately grasping Nakamura Shinichi’s hand while pleading for his deceased son’s posthumous reputation, "I’ll never speak out of turn again, I swear I really won’t! As the honor of my father, a World War II veteran, I can guarantee it!"

"Then we’ll see how you behave. Don’t make me come here again, you old fool." Nakamura Shinichi released Mr. Muranishi and left without looking back.

Behind him, the door remained ajar, with Mr. and Mrs. Muranishi slowly sitting down on the floor of the entryway, holding each other tightly and weeping, a picture of utter desolation.

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