Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner
Chapter 87 - 9: The Airplane Head Killer Watanabe Shun

Chapter 87: Chapter 9: The Airplane Head Killer Watanabe Shun

"On the wall at the crime scene, the murderer left the bloody word ’Heavenly Punishment...’"

"This brutal case has elicited unusual reactions among certain groups. Local gang members, punk youth, and street delinquents seem to regard the murderer as some kind of spiritual icon..."

"They are enthralled by the murderer’s act of inscribing the bloody words ’Heavenly Punishment’ on the wall, as if they have found the so-called ’spirit of rebellion’ and ’symbol of unruliness’ from this frenzied action..."

"These groups have started spreading twisted interpretations of this case on the streets and alleyways. Some even mimic the murderer’s behavior by graffitiing similar words on abandoned buildings, attempting to exhibit their ’rebellion’ and ’uniqueness’."

"The police state that they are working tirelessly to solve this case, not only to bring the murderer to justice but also to control and guide those groups inclined towards extreme behavior due to bad influences. Glorifying violence and crime is inadvisable, and the public should collectively resist these distorted values to maintain societal harmony and peace..."

...

This report is written in a very official style, and there’s no journalist signature on it.

Important news like this usually undergoes multiple rounds of departmental and editorial meetings for content refinement, often resulting in the removal of the reporter’s name, thereby reflecting the newspaper’s stance and viewpoint while erasing the reporter’s personal touch.

Fushimi Roku could easily guess that Yazaki Momo likely wrote this report. It mentions Nakagawara Station Patrol Police being ’dutiful and responsible,’ implying that the tragedy occurred due to the negligence of some criminal police officers.

The criminal news agency she worked for in Tokyo acts as the mouthpiece of the Police Department, naturally avoiding disparagements, rumors, or supernatural embellishments. The entire report did not mention the victim or the case progress, while exonerating the criminal police department and criticizing the ’poor local customs’ in Sugamo District, which purely serves to distract from the real issue.

"Not bad, eh? We got commended," Watanabe Shun said, feeling proud.

Moriyama Yasurou glanced at him sideways, "And what does that have to do with you? This is all Minamoto Tamako’s credit, and Mr. Fushimi also put in a lot of effort. All you do is cause trouble for the patrol."

Watanabe Shun could not find joy in that.

Kazama Tatsuya put down his cup and supplemented the blow:

"To be honest, it’s pure luck you were released. The person you hit was a Yakuza, which barely made it an emergency arrest. All the witnesses who could testify against you are now dead, so nobody pressed charges, and the prosecution dropped the appeal. Of course, internal discipline is inevitable, and the chief may dock your pay for two months."

Watanabe Shun stammered for a bit, unable to refute.

It seems, as a senior, he has a long way to go if he wishes to serve as a role model for his juniors...

Minamoto Tamako instinctively said, "In this way, wouldn’t Senior Watanabe be the biggest beneficiary of the Sugamo Apartment massacre?"

As soon as she said it, the office fell into a dead silence, with only the bubbling of oden audible.

Everyone exchanged looks and then all directed their gaze towards Watanabe Shun.

"Pffft hahahahahaha!!" Moriyama Yasurou slapped the table laughing, shaking like a flower, eyes tearing up with laughter.

Kazama Tatsuya could not contain himself either, lines on his face relaxing, and followed up with Minamoto Tamako’s jest: "Indeed, Jun was in a scuffle with the deceased, so it does seem quite suspicious!"

"Hahaha! Stop it, I can’t breathe from laughing..."

Moriyama Yasurou suddenly suppressed her laughter, pulling a fierce face: "I am the serial killer Watanabe Shun! Please, call me the Pompadour Killer!" After saying that, she was amused by herself, holding her stomach and rocking back and forth.

Fushimi Roku laughed silently, putting some freshly grilled Wagyu into his bowl.

Minamoto Tamako realized she misspoke and hurriedly apologized to Senior Watanabe.

Watanabe Shun looked depressed, waving his hand to show he didn’t mind.

Whether the chief and the boss trust his character too much, or deep down they underestimated his intimidation factor... Watanabe Shun faintly felt the latter possibility was greater, otherwise, they wouldn’t be laughing so heartily.

The atmosphere grew increasingly lively, and the office was filled with cheerful energy.

With the alcohol taking effect, and the timing just right, once the seniors finished mocking Watanabe Shun, it was time to laugh at Minamoto Tamako.

Even while eating, she kept that pompadour, sitting among five people with her head a whole level up, swaying conspicuously.

Others could all see that Minamoto Tamako’s confidence was severely hit, deeply affecting her, leading her to compensate with her appearance. If told the truth, she would surely be hit again, possibly unable to recover.

It’s like the Emperor’s New Clothes; whoever exposes it becomes an unforgivable sinner.

Except for Watanabe Shun, the three eyed one another calmly, never mentioning the hairstyle nor dared to look Minamoto Tamako in the eye, for fear of bursting into laughter. Occasionally, catching a glance, Moriyama Yasurou and Kazama Tatsuya would hint Fushimi Roku to remind her. The latter continued to feign ignorance.

Now, taking advantage of the alcoholic haze to speak the truth, Kazama Tatsuya initiated an attack, burping from his diaphragm to indicate he was drunk, implying what followed were drunken words: "By the way, Tamako, what made you think of keeping a pompadour?"

Minamoto Tamako noticed something was off, immediately getting nervous. She put down her chopsticks, stammering, "Be-because I wanted to appear more imposing..."

"Well, generally speaking, girls don’t keep pompadours, right?" Kazama Tatsuya turned to ask Moriyama Yasurou, trying to drag her in as well: "Right? Chief, would you keep a pompadour?"

"Wouldn’t know." Moriyama Yasurou bowed her head, pretending to keep reading the newspaper.

"Is it, is this haircut actually laughable?" Minamoto Tamako hiccupped and her eyes began to blur with tears.

Actually, without anyone else pointing it out, she also vaguely felt something wasn’t right. But she was too eager to prove herself, leading her to deceive herself.

"No! Of course not, it actually looks quite imposing..."

Kazama Tatsuya cursed Watanabe Shun a million times internally, then softened his tone, "But speaking of which, isn’t this hairstyle inconvenient for wearing a police cap? Patrolling is different from being a criminal police officer; you need to wear a cap while on duty."

"Y-yep, it seems it is." Minamoto Tamako said.

"Right? So, a normal hairstyle would be better," Kazama Tatsuya relaxed.

"Then I’ll go and wash out the hair gel..."

Saying this, Minamoto Tamako stood up, suddenly stumbling and almost falling down.

Luckily, Fushimi Roku had quick reflexes and grabbed her, turning her face which was now red as a monkey’s bottom.

He intended to ask the chief to help clean up, but upon turning, he found Kazama Tatsuya and Moriyama Yasurou both wearing expressions of indifferent amusement, clearly planning to follow his lead in feigning ignorance.

Fushimi Roku remained silent for a moment, sighed. Having almost eaten his fill, he supported Minamoto Tamako upstairs, intending to help her wash out the hair gel and simply put her to bed.

Once someone leaves, it means the gathering is over. The other three had nearly finished eating as well, each went their separate ways, leaving Watanabe Shun to tidy up the bowls and plates.

Late into the night, the faint sound of running water came from upstairs.

Watanabe Shun wiped the table diligently, still harboring thoughts about the chief mocking him. That old woman indeed had a nasty temperament, perhaps it was menopause, which led her to enjoy teasing people...

Tap, tap, tap.

There came a knocking on the patrol house’s main door.

Watanabe Shun cursed his bad luck internally, wiped his hands, put on his police uniform, and didn’t even bother with the cap, heading to the front to open the door.

Outside stood two bald robust men, clad in inferior blue jackets, with large tattoos covering the backs of their heads. Watanabe Shun asked them what they wanted, whether it was for directions or a report, to which the two exchanged glances. One of them inquired, "Is Watanabe Shun there?"

"That’s me, what’s up?" Watanabe Shun asked.

As soon as he spoke, the two bald men advanced, one punching his abdomen from below, while the other stuffed a wet cloth into his mouth. Before he could struggle, a strong odor of ether hit his nose, and his vision immediately started spinning.

They bagged him up, dragging him into a parked van at the roadside. The driver floored the gas pedal, speeding away in less than a minute.