Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner
Chapter 62: A Call from a Stranger

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: A Call from a Stranger

"No," Fushimi Roku resolutely refused, "if I tell you, you’ll definitely stir things up at the police station. The workload is already big enough, and here you are trying to meddle in more affairs."

Minamoto Tamako pouted her little mouth again; she always liked to pout when she was unhappy.

What does he mean by ’meddling’? Clearly, she’s just doing her job. If the patrol police don’t manage the affairs of others, then who will? Seriously, Fushimi is getting lazier by the day!

If she wasn’t worried about his petty nature acting up, she would critique him regardless of the situation.

Clearly, Fushimi is so talented, skilled at reading people, has a knack for public speaking, knowledgeable about customs, and seems quite good in a fight, but he’s a hopeless slacker—this guy used to slack off a lot at the police academy, just barely passing exams, putting in effort only for the graduation exam to get a good station assignment—it’s really such a waste of talent!

"This is our first case! It’s very significant, don’t you want to do your best to solve it?" Minamoto Tamako used a roundabout strategy, trying to ignite even the tiniest spark of motivation in Fushimi Roku.

But she clearly overestimated Fushimi Roku. Zero multiplied by any number is still zero. How could nonexistent motivation be summoned into being? In his past life, he’s dealt with countless cases, long since cooked to a crispy state by society. Watching for laughs is one thing, but if asked to get involved, he’d rather pretend he didn’t see anything... this probably illustrates the difference between reading a novel and writing one.

"Not interested," Fushimi Roku yawned, "I’m going back to sleep."

Minamoto Tamako’s anger was rising fast, thinking to herself whether this guy had any awareness of his role. As Sherlock Holmes’ partner, you should be full of enthusiasm for cases!

When Detective Minamoto Tamako hits a bottleneck, Fushimi the loyal companion ought to be spinning in circles with worry on the side, unintentionally asking a question or two to spark enlightenment, letting her have a sudden revelation of the truth, rather than leaning back with a salaryman’s bored face saying ’the workload is big enough, don’t meddle in other affairs’... How can he sleep at a time like this? At his age, how can he sleep? Show some ambition!

Fine, even if he doesn’t help, this lady can still find out the truth on her own!

Once she cracks the case, achieves feats, gets praised by superiors, encouraged by seniors, promoted at the police department, Fushimi would kneel and regret why he hadn’t followed her lead!

Minamoto Tamako furrowed her brow, biting her thumb, as she pondered the apartment ghost event on her way back to the patrol house... She was so engrossed in thought that she accidentally bumped into someone when entering the door.

"Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

Minamoto Tamako’s words were abruptly cut off. Looking up, her first reaction was to notice how tall the older sister in front of her was, how slim her waist, how long her legs, and how broad her shoulders were, exuding an air of aggression. Then, her eyes landed on the badge on the other person’s chest, and she quickly stood to attention and saluted: "Hello, Chief!"

During yesterday’s patrol shift, Watanabe Shun had mentioned the chief of the Sugamo patrol house: Name—Moriyama Yasurou, nearing thirty, unmarried, single, an irritable spinster—that’s how Watanabe Shun had described her, so in Minamoto Tamako’s mind, the chief’s image was like an old spinster.

But the woman before her was vastly different from what she had envisioned. She had short, tidy hair, with deep and angular features that looked somewhat like a western mix, a long neck, nine-head body proportion, dressed in a white police uniform, immediately reminding Minamoto Tamako of a swan.

"Huh? The new recruit is a grade-schooler?" Moriyama Yasurou’s face suddenly darkened, looking at Minamoto Tamako with a hint of malevolence, her right hand gripping the left wrist behind her back, veins popping.

Minamoto Tamako was startled, thinking that Senior Watanabe really wasn’t lying, the chief’s temper is indeed fierce... She shrank her neck, too scared to utter a sound.

Fushimi Roku passed by, glancing back at the top of Moriyama Yasurou’s head.

"Criminal index: 11%"

"Vices: cute aggression syndrome"

...

Seeing Minamoto Tamako looking so pitiful and submissive, Moriyama Yasurou’s symptoms became even worse. She wanted nothing more than to hug Minamoto Tamako to her chest for a good smother, squeeze all her brain juice out, preferably making her cry endlessly...

Calm down! Yasurou, stay calm!

Moriyama Yasurou took several deep breaths, shifting her attention. Her eyes were narrow, with upturned corners, a natural air of authority when squinting: "Mr. Fushimi, not even saying a hello?"

In the ’90s, the hierarchy and respect for superiors and subordinates in Japanese workplaces were quite severe, especially for employees in governmental institutions. If a subordinate encountered a superior and didn’t actively salute or greet them, it would be considered a serious character flaw. Encountering a vengeful superior could definitely lead to trouble.

"Hello, Chief." Fushimi Roku gave a salute.

In his mind, he was contemplating whether to give the chief a cat, thinking it might be more effective than money. As long as he could bribe... uh, honor the chief, even putting on an act wouldn’t be out of the question.

As for honoring Kazama Tatsuya, might as well forget it. Despite Kazama Tatsuya’s noble facade yesterday, who knew if he wasn’t secretly suspecting him.

"You have a call," Moriyama Yasurou reached out with her slender fingers, taking a card from the time clock, "from the police department, specifically asking for you. Remember to keep your tone respectful."

"A call for me?" Fushimi Roku was somewhat surprised.

"Yes."

Moriyama Yasurou clocked out, and before leaving, wrote down a string of phone numbers on a sticky note, slipping it into Minamoto Tamako’s chest pocket, "Call me if there are any issues."

"Yes!" Minamoto Tamako quickly saluted, "Thank you for your hard work!"

She watched the chief exit the patrol house, driving away quickly in a small car, thinking that the chief seemed so formidable and stylish, she wondered when she could become a chief like that...

After a moment of reflection, Minamoto Tamako went into the office, wanting to eavesdrop on Fushimi Roku’s phone call. She was even more curious than Fushimi Roku about who the call was from, but Fushimi Roku, citing personal privacy, didn’t let her listen, forcing her to huff and stomp upstairs back to her dorm room, deliberately making her footsteps extra loud.

"Hello, this is Fushimi Roku, patrol officer from Sugamo Station front Patrol House, badge number TD070," Fushimi Roku picked up the phone, "is there anything I can help you with?"

"Hello, Mr. Fushimi."

A gentle yet magnetic female voice came from the other end, filled with the calmness unique to a senior: "Apologies for my abruptness, this call is unrelated to work. I just wanted to chat with you in a personal capacity."

"Who might you be?"

"I am Minamoto Tamako’s mother," the caller said straightforwardly, "Thank you for looking after my daughter during this time."

"I wouldn’t call it looking after; it’s more like I’m benefiting from her light," Fushimi Roku responded playfully.

The caller neither agreed nor disagreed, indicating that she was fully aware of Minamoto Tamako’s experiences at the police academy and even candidly admitted that she had arranged the use of real corpses for the graduation exam. As for Fushimi Roku himself, she didn’t express any evaluations, simply and calmly asking: "Do you wish for a promotion?"

"No," Fushimi Roku stated honestly, "but I do wish to be transferred soon."

The caller didn’t ask for a reason, "For a patrol police to be transferred, the minimum requirement is to collaborate with criminal police in solving three criminal cases. Only with that record will other patrol houses consider accepting you."

She paused, then continued, "You must be aware that my daughter’s temperament is too gentle to be suitable as a police officer. Sooner or later, she will have to face reality. Helping her is actually harming her... You’re smart, so you know what to do."

With that, she ended the call.