Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner
Chapter 74: Five Minutes of Defense

Chapter 74: Chapter 74: Five Minutes of Defense

The cold wind swept through the hallway, making a howling sound.

Fushimi Roku could hear his own breathing, hot air pouring out from the seams of his mask, mist spreading before his eyes, he felt a layer of mist moisten his eyelashes.

This time was different from the last, killing Sakurai Chizuru was simply going with the flow, when he fired the gun, he did not think much, nor had time to think. But at this moment, he could savor the fear and excitement of hunting with each breath, feeling the pumping and throbbing of his blood vessels with every heartbeat.

This feeling was peculiar, like scorching lava sizzling in a container made of ice.

The single-skin drum sounded, and there was singing from inside the house, as Fushimi Roku knocked on doors one by one.

He stood at the end of the hallway, patiently waiting for each resident to open their door, watching as they peeked out with puzzlement or scolded with anger.

Tonight he was in luck, the residents almost all came out, saving him the trouble of prying open door locks one by one.

Fushimi Roku clapped his hands to attract everyone’s attention. He placed the hourglass on the ground, spread his arms, speaking hoarsely: "You all are guilty people, perhaps some of you don’t deserve to die, so I give you five minutes to defend yourselves."

The resident closest to the hallway eyed the strange man, cold wind blowing into his raincoat, the hem flapping. He stepped forward, reaching out to grab the intruder’s collar: "You nonsensical person——"

There was a muffled thud, and the words came to an abrupt stop.

Fushimi Roku, holding a fruit knife, stabbed upward from below into the other’s chin, burying it up to the hilt.

The resident’s trachea emitted a strange rattling sound, he struggled to lift his hand, but after a moment it fell weakly.

Fushimi Roku pulled out the knife, blood splattering, leaving a pool of blood, the body slumped at his feet. A system prompt appeared in front of him, which he closed after default adding points without even looking.

"Next."

He bent down, flipped the hourglass, and reset the timer.

Someone screamed, drowned out by the sound of rain and singing. Maybe due to a guilty conscience, or perhaps the thunder frightened them, residents on other floors no longer cursed Yasukawa Seiji for disturbing the peace.

The corridor was in turmoil as the residents became restless. They first questioned ’Where did this lunatic come from’, ’What are you doing’, ’Murder is a serious crime, wait till you rot in prison’... Seeing Fushimi Roku unmoved, they began cursing, with words like ’bastard’, ’baka yaro’, ’psycho’, but none of these had any impact on Fushimi Roku.

As the hourglass gradually ran out, amid the accusations, the crowd’s anger reached a peak. Someone shouted ’He’s alone!’ Their fear and anger suddenly found an outlet, only waiting for someone to lead, they would rush to swarm and beat up this madman.

The bolder resident drew a folding knife from his waist, signaling others to grab weapons from their rooms: "Let’s deal with this guy too! Remember that punk’s old man last time? Just like then, let’s handle it together..."

There was the sound of doors opening and closing, the corridor filled with the clatter of various metallic noises. Over a dozen men holding weapons, now with newfound confidence.

"Resist, then?"

Fushimi Roku nudged the hourglass with the tip of his shoe, a grin forming under his mask: "So scary, now I have to defend myself."

The leader roared, like a bugle call to charge.

A crowd rushed forth, Fushimi Roku spun the knife with a flourish, the singing reached to "A man must avenge, or live in vain", lightning split the night, the world black and white for an instant, he slid back, the flash of the knife, the leader’s neck sprayed a fountain of blood!

The rain fell heavier, the singing sped faster, accompanied by the thumping drum, roar after roar echoed. His plastic raincoat was soaked with blood, Fushimi Roku moved like a wolf among sheep, the sharp blade like fangs. Initially, he was a bit unfamiliar, but soon his killing sped up, weaving through from the end of the hallway, each step accompanied by a splash of blood.

Smooth and skillful, each cut at the throat.

The residents couldn’t even scream as they fell like wheat to the ground. By the time Fushimi Roku reached halfway, their morale had collapsed, their anger vanished without a trace, only pure fear remained. Several survivors tried to flee, but Fushimi Roku shot them one by one, their bodies collapsing before their doorsteps.

The gunshots were deafening, the sound waves rumbled through the hallway.

"What’s all this noise?! What’s happening now!!"

Nagashima Takeshi had an injury, recuperating at home. Originally he couldn’t be bothered to get up, but the commotion outside grew unbearable, he finally couldn’t tolerate it, angrily kicking the door open with gun in hand.

With a bang, the door hit the outer wall, cold air mixed with a strong smell of blood rushed up his nostrils. He shivered, goosebumps forming on his neck.

The singing hadn’t stopped, the hallway was dark, Nagashima Takeshi vaguely made out over a dozen people lying on the ground, the only person standing was staring at him.

Squelch.

Nagashima Takeshi looked down, feeling something sticky underfoot. The neighbor from next door lay prone, reaching out to him, seemingly wanting to say something.

Animals instinctively fear the scent of their predators, when one creature slaughters too many of its kind, the survivors instinctively consider it an enemy, etching this fear deep into their DNA. Nagashima Takeshi felt this instinct, like a mouse meeting a cat, or a black sheep encountering a pack of wolves.

No words needed, the killing intent was obvious.

Nagashima Takeshi flicked off the safety, raising the gun and pulling the trigger!

The other anticipated his move, lowered his body and sidestepped, the muzzle flash flickering, the bullet brushed past.

The seven-step distance was too short, Nagashima Takeshi didn’t have a chance to fire again, his eyes blurred, the other’s speed astonishing, before he could react, the pistol’s slide had been dismantled.

Fushimi Roku held the police gun, aiming at Nagashima Takeshi’s forehead, the muzzle wobbled, gesturing him to enter the room. The latter swallowed, backing into the room. His apartment had water and electricity, the heater was on, the room warm like spring. As they walked slowly through the entrance, two stark bloody footprints marked the wooden floor.

"Even the most heinous scum should have the basic right to defense. You missed it earlier, so I’ll say it again."

Fushimi Roku didn’t mind, he pulled a spare hourglass from his pocket, setting it on the tatami:

"You have five minutes to defend yourself."

Nagashima Takeshi slightly relaxed, as long as they could negotiate, anything could be discussed. He feared the kind of lunatic who couldn’t be reasoned with, he’d encountered one before, who went berserk on the street randomly killing, absolutely no reasoning with them.

"Here’s the thing, there’s fifteen million yen in my safe, if you kill me, you won’t get a cent..."

"I know the rules of the underworld, I’ll absolutely not breathe a word to the police..."

"I didn’t see your face, there’s no need to kill me to silence..."

...

As the grains slipped down, that gun remained stationary. Nagashima Takeshi’s spine was soaked with cold sweat, droplets falling from the tip of his nose. He had committed too many crimes, even if he wanted to repent and act pitiful, he didn’t know which one the other had come for.

Five minutes later, the hourglass stopped.

"Finished?" Fushimi Roku asked.

Nagashima Takeshi licked his dry lips, hesitantly nodding.

"Unfortunately," Fushimi Roku shrugged: "You failed to convince me, so I can only give you a rather indecent death."

Hearing this, Nagashima Takeshi, desperate, immediately reacted violently, but was countered and pinned to the ground by Fushimi Roku. The latter drew handcuffs from his waist, pressing his knee against his neck, expectantly rubbing his hands.

"Alright, where to start..."

The door creaked shut in the wind, cold air flowing into the hallway again. Soon after, there came a voice begging for mercy ’I beg you! Don’t do this... I beg you, give me a quick death—’

Following were shrill screams, occasionally mixed with cries for help. Yasukawa Seiji deliberately raised his voice, even if it went off-key and hoarse, shouting over the cries for help coming from across the door.

"—Drinks done, change clothes and depart, this letter is his death warrant!!"