Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner
Chapter 108 - 30: Advanced Housekeeping

Chapter 108: Chapter 30: Advanced Housekeeping

Icicles hung from the eaves of the Sugamo Station front Patrol House, and the snow in front of the door had been swept away, leaving two snowmen of different sizes on each side.

A layer of fog formed on the glass windows, and white smoke rose from the ventilation pipes, suggesting it was warm inside the patrol house. Watanabe Shun rubbed his hands together, feeling as if he had come home. He pushed the door open, was momentarily stunned, then took two steps back to check the sign, which indeed read ’Sugamo Station front Patrol House’.

"What’s wrong?" Fushimi Roku asked.

On the way back, he had performed an Evil Chant on Watanabe Shun. Upon learning that the two of them had risked sneaking into the Inakawa Association branch at night to save him, Watanabe Shun was so moved that he became teary-eyed.

With his hands in his pockets, he looked up at the sky at a 45-degree angle, not wanting the boss to see him cry. As the saying goes, ’a samurai’s tears don’t flow down his cheeks’, and why should one speak when emotions are as firm as gold.

Watanabe Shun imitated the tough guy from TV shows, nonchalantly telling Kazama Tatsuya ’Good job’, only to be kicked again, landing him in the snow.

After this incident, Watanabe Shun found it embarrassing to haggle over his hat anymore. With a grand gesture, he expressed a desire to properly reward his brothers by partying hard at a high-end izakaya. However, Fushimi Roku and Kazama Tatsuya were in no mood; having stayed up all night and day, they only wanted to return to the dorm for some sleep.

At present, Watanabe Shun stood at the entrance of the patrol house, looking suspiciously and said, "Feels like we’ve come to the wrong place."

"Move over," Kazama Tatsuya pushed his face aside, "Forgot where you work? You don’t look like you were kidnapped, more like you took a two-day leave and went wild..."

His words came to an abrupt halt, as he too showed a puzzled expression.

Fushimi Roku peered over his shoulder into the patrol house and saw the reception counter polished to a shine, the floor as smooth as if it had been waxed, the cobwebs and dust in the corners vanished, and a fragrance of air freshener lingered in the air.

They entered the office, which used to be messy like a kennel, but now appeared as tidy as an elite police station office, clean enough to lick the floor.

The desktop had been repainted, all damages repaired smoothly, documents sorted and neatly arranged, the ceiling fan free of any dust, and even the storage cabinet had its screws tightened.

"Is this... a high-end housekeeping service?" Kazama Tatsuya bent down; his small recliner was still under the desk, and the once-patina-covered pillow and quilt had been washed, emitting a pleasant detergent aroma.

Fushimi Roku wasn’t pleased; his face fell, and he had a vague bad premonition. He spoke rapidly, "Is everyone hungry? I’ll go to the kitchen and make you some noodles."

Without waiting for a response, he headed upstairs. The sound of his steps changed from thump, thump, thump to thud, thud, thud as even the wooden floor had been refurbished. Watanabe Shun looked up and shouted, "I don’t need any, I’ve already eaten before I came back!"

Fushimi Roku responded absentmindedly, and as soon as he reached the second floor, he heard Minamoto Tamako’s excited voice coming from the dormitory:

"Ha! This case seems enigmatic, but it’s actually full of loopholes! You think you can act recklessly in my jurisdiction? Don’t be naïve! Those intricate clues are merely markers you’ve made to dig your own graves — I see the flow of money, I smell the stench of crime, just like these wads of cash, there’s always a source and a destination!"

Fushimi Roku felt a sinking feeling in his heart. Ignoring the urge to check the small treasury in the kitchen, he hurried to Minamoto Tamako’s dormitory and pressed his ear against the door to listen intently.

"Do you think this is just an ordinary theft? No, there must be a bigger conspiracy behind it! It could be a gang conflict, or a power struggle. But I will follow the money trail and drag out every rat lurking in the shadows!"

Minamoto Tamako’s voice grew increasingly fervent, her tone rising and falling as if reciting a Shakespearean sonnet. Fushimi Roku felt like she was pointing out his own guilt, and his heart began to race.

"Face judgment, Sakurako!"

Minamoto Tamako shouted, mimicking gunfire with her mouth. Immediately after, a pained cry from Taira Sakurako came from the room, followed by a cold voice, "Ugh, as expected of famous detective Tamako Inspector, you uncovered the truth in one go..."

"No, no, no, you have to be more emotional, not so robotic. You need to convey the suspect’s complex emotions of regret, anger, resentment, and malice before being caught... Let me demonstrate."

Minamoto Tamako paused before continuing, "Ughhhh!! As expected, as expected of famous detective Tamako Inspector! I didn’t expect you to uncover the truth in one go — damn it all!!"

"..."

Fushimi Roku slowly straightened up, squinted, and didn’t say a word.

He turned and left, heading to the third floor to check the hidden compartments in the kitchen. The money was still there, except one bundle of bills had its plastic seal opened.

After counting, he found five thousand yen missing.

"Tsk."

Fushimi Roku frowned, restored the ceiling cover, and proceeded to cook four bowls of soba noodles. He shouted in the hallway for Senior Feng to come and eat, then carried three bowls downstairs on a tray, forcing a smile and knocked on Minamoto Tamako’s door.

"Eh? When did you get back? Did you find Senior Watanabe?"

Minamoto Tamako was so engrossed in her act, shouting and hollering, that she hadn’t noticed the commotion outside the door.

"Just got back, he’s fine."

Fushimi Roku glanced inside her room. This guy had propped the cushions and pillows into a fortress, holding a paper-made toy gun; Taira Sakurako lay motionless on the bed, likely playing the dead body, with a dried watermelon rind on her head. Who knows where Minamoto Tamako got that thing.

Catching the scent of noodles, Minamoto Tamako smacked her small lips instinctively. They hadn’t had lunch yet today, and Fushimi’s timing was perfect. Before Fushimi Roku could think of an excuse to enter the room, she had already unfolded a small folding table on the tatami, patted the cushion next to her, and urged, "Bring it over quickly."

The three gathered around the small table, slurping noodles, while Fushimi Roku eyed Taira Sakurako from the corner of his eye. She wore loose-fitting overalls, underneath which was a pink T-shirt that likely belonged to Minamoto Tamako. It seemed she’d been well cared for in the past few days, at the very least she hadn’t retreated back into that old cardboard box.

As Minamoto Tamako scarfed noodles, she boasted about how her painstaking efforts had finally allowed normal communication with Taira Sakurako. Not only that, but she’d also uncovered Taira Sakurako’s potential, discovering she was particularly good at cleaning. Together, they had given the entire patrol house a brand new look!

Fushimi Roku inwardly cursed — this was clearly my money that got them to do this!

He turned his head and smiled warmly as he praised Taira Sakurako a few times. The latter stayed silent, hiding her little face under her bangs, and quickly slurped her noodles.

Next, Fushimi Roku revealed the truth, asking if they had cleaned the third floor.

Minamoto Tamako shook her head repeatedly, with a guilty look, afraid that Fushimi would find out they had intruded into a senior’s territory. Taira Sakurako silently turned her head and ate her noodles with her back to Fushimi Roku. There’s no guessing required; it was obviously her who took the five thousand yen.

"It’s wrong to secretly take someone else’s things, isn’t it?" Fushimi Roku said sarcastically.