Box of Demons

Chapter 45

"No, that's impossible. You can assume that everyone who knows the inside story has some kind of vested interest with Kanako. Therefore, they would never be happy for a small ransom of ten million. Rather than committing a foolish act like kidnapping, it would be much more profitable to just kill her, as you said."

"So, the culprit really is Yoko?"

"I didn't expect you to be so stupid. The doctor said that Kanako will recover as long as she rests and recovers. Just convince her when she regains consciousness. Even if she hasn't regained consciousness yet, if you really want money, just claim that you have explained the truth to Kanako while she still has a breath left, and that she has expressed her willingness to inherit. You can use a seriously injured patient who can't even say a few words properly however you want."

By doing this, we could obtain ten million times the amount. It's still about deceiving us, but this method is far more feasible.

It sounded reasonable, but something still felt off. Was it really that simple? Natsuki pondered, a vague sense of unease lingering in Masuoka's words.

"You mean Mr. Yaohong, whose condition had been stabilizing, suddenly passed away the day before yesterday?"

"Huh?"

Masuoka seemed surprised that Natsukizu would suddenly bring up this question.

"No—rather than saying things have stabilized—it was in the latter half of last month. Kanako was relatively healthy for a week after the accident. At that time, I hadn't reported the incident to Mr. Yaohong. Then his health suddenly deteriorated rapidly—that's right, it worsened before the kidnapping notice arrived. Then, just when the Kanagawa police came to visit, he became critically ill again. For the next month until the day before yesterday, he was hovering on the brink of death."

"You've mentioned this to Kinuko?"

"Yes, I wanted to resolve this matter as soon as possible, so I said so. Is there a problem?"

Natsuki asked out of boredom, without any particular reason. Seeing that he didn't respond, Masuoka repeated his old trick.

"Yoko, I don't know whether to call her strong or cultured, but she's not attached to money at all. If there's anything she's attached to, it seems to be her daughter, Kanako. So it's hard to believe that she would risk her daughter's life to devise such a foolish scam. But I must reiterate, this is just my personal opinion."

This way won't work. That way won't work either. They're at their wits' end, constantly finding plausible excuses to cut off their own path to survival. In Natsuki's eyes, Masuoka and the Kanagawa Prefectural Police are no different.

A dying young girl, an actress with a past, a terminally ill old man with countless riches, and a scoundrel blinded by greed. This combination alone isn't enough.

——Kiba Shutaro.

It seems that idiot Kiba got involved too.

No, Masuoka didn't notice. Then who was it?

—A man with a blurred face.

So it's called—Amamiya, right? Let's try again.

—And boxes.

A box? A lizard-like man. Is that a doctor?

—That's not enough.

If this is a crime, there must be someone who conceived and drew the design. A bunch of random lines can't form a picture. But Xia

Kizu couldn't make out the design. Was it because the design was too intricate? No, it could also be because it was too poorly made.

Xia Mujin half-closed his eyes; his large, lightly pigmented eyes were half-open, as if he were sleepy. During the conversation...

Yin Ji, who had barely uttered a word, stared at him.

For some unknown reason, Masuoka slowly took out the documents from his briefcase. They contained a detailed record of the incident, created with the help of the Kanagawa police.

Data on fine latitude and longitude.

"I thought this data might be helpful to you, so I brought it. As for the timeframe—let's set it for one month. But I hope you find her as soon as possible. Even if we can't find her, at the very least, we hope to have evidence to confirm her death. The commission fee is as you wish; name your price. This is a deposit. However, if the police find Kanako or confirm her death during your investigation, we are only willing to pay the necessary operating expenses. If the amount given to you is insufficient, please let us know; if it is more, consider it payment and accept it—there's no need to return it."

Masuoka then took out a very thick envelope. Natsukizu, too lazy to count the contents, handed it directly to Torakichi, who was sitting on his left. Torakichi quickly went to the desk and began calculating. He kept exclaiming in surprise, which made Natsukizu feel a little embarrassed.

"Alright, Mr. Natsuki, I hope that during your investigation, you will strictly refrain from disclosing anything I just said—especially the inside story of Kanako's birth and the fact that Mr. Yaohong died. This would have a significant impact on stock prices and many other aspects. The disclosure of this information must be done with great care. Please allow me to reiterate, you are strictly prohibited from leaking secrets."

"Disclosure is strictly prohibited—is that right?"

"Yes, leaks are strictly prohibited."

He said that leaking secrets is strictly prohibited.

A listless voice.

After saying this, Natsume stopped talking and let out a very big yawn.

"But you still leaked it, didn't you?"

"Huh?"

"What do you mean, 'huh'? I mean, since leaking secrets is strictly prohibited, why did you say it so easily? Brother Xia, don't you have the professional ethics that a detective should have?"

"No."

The detective stretched his feet under the low table, maintaining his face-up lying position, and laughed loudly. Rather than being slender, he was more accurately described as having a very long torso; his head was positioned near the threshold of the veranda.

"It's quite remarkable that I can remember it so clearly, so I think I should say it before I forget it. Fortunately, I can usually remember it after I've told him once, which is reassuring."

Natsume gestured with his chin towards Kyogoku-do, but the man being used as a notebook didn't respond at all. Not only that, Kyogoku-do hadn't uttered a single word all day, simply continuing to read the book on the table.

Just two days ago, Toriguchi Morihiko had finally gotten used to Kyogoku-do, but today, he encountered Natsukizu, an unexpected ambush, and was once again rendered speechless.

Toriguchi spent the whole day yesterday conducting interviews and obtained a lot of new information about the leader of the Miju God Cult.

I stayed home all day yesterday.

Two days ago, when I returned from Kyogoku-do, I found a letter from Kitansha. The sender was Tamayo Koizumi, and surprisingly, the content was the typesetting manuscript for Shun Kubo's new work. After reading the letter attached to the book, Koizumi seemed quite perplexed by this work, and thus sent it to ask for my opinion.

After reading it once, I felt it was indeed a very unique work. But soon after, I began to feel a chill.

The aftertaste was terrible. Although this is only the first part of a work divided into two parts, it's a bit ridiculous to talk about the aftertaste before even reading the second part.

Coincidentally, this is a work with boxes as its theme.

The title is "Girl in a Box".

This fantasy novel—and I suppose that's what he calls it—depicts the delusional world of a man with an abnormal obsession with boxes. The protagonist's character is less a box fetishist and more like someone with extreme claustrophobia, or perhaps a lover of enclosed spaces. He constantly harbors a strong urge to fill empty spaces, which could perhaps be seen as excessive fastidiousness; in any case, it's a rather interesting subject. However, for me now, this work with boxes as its theme feels too perfect, even excessively realistic, and the gruesome descriptions remind me of dismemberment and murder.

To be honest, this made me feel down. Kubo's work stirred up my melancholy even more than when he asked me to ruminate on my own work.

I felt unwell all day yesterday. I had no choice but to take out the register of Mikoto's followers that Toriguchi had entrusted to me and start copying it. This was a task assigned to me by Kyogoku-do. While concentrating on copying other people's names, my feelings became increasingly similar to those of Kiyono, whom I'd never met. Although I managed to avoid falling into depression, I felt as if I were possessed by Kiyono.

The copying work continued until late at night.

I felt unwell this morning and really didn't want to go out when I wasn't well-rested and my mental state was unstable. But I had already made plans with Toriguchi, so I had no choice but to go out. I promised to take him to Kyogoku-do this afternoon, so I had to give the information to Satomura before that.

I spurred my weary body to the hospital just as it was opening hours. Luckily, there were no patients, and Satomura readily agreed to meet with me. Following Kyogoku-do's advice, I presented myself as Kiyono and explained my purpose.

But without needing to resort to mediocre acting, my appearance seemed to have worsened than I imagined, as I oscillated between normal and normal depression. Rimura, like a nun, listened intently to the anxious women who had sought refuge in the nunnery, recounting their life stories, his eyes filled with loving compassion as he watched over me. Whether he was truly listening or simply pitying this mentally challenged friend, however, was unclear.

In short, I completed the task voluntarily. After a quick lunch, I met Torikochi in front of Nakano Station at 1 p.m. and headed straight here—Kyogoku-do.

Just like last time, the bookstore was closed today, and my wife wasn't home either. I knew the door wasn't locked, and after calling for a long time without anyone coming out, I went in as usual. As soon as I entered, I saw Xia Mujin's head sticking out onto the eaves. Xia Mujin lay motionless like a log, then turned to us and said:

"Hi, Xiao Guan, you're here."

That's what he always calls me.

The host, as usual, was reading with his back to the alcove. The two men were positioned perpendicularly across the table. From the host's position, all he could see was the nostrils of the reclining guest—a peculiar composition for anyone unfamiliar with these two eccentric individuals.

But this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Natsuki would make a fleeting visit about once every month or two, and each time he would lie down and sleep in the living room. When awake, he would ramble on about meaningless, trivial matters. His attitude was the same whether Mrs. Kikumuro was present or not. Of course, it made no difference when I was there either.

At most, Natsuki would tease me, scold me, and ridicule me, but then he would just lie down and sleep like this. Kyogoku said that sometimes he would come in, lie down immediately, and after a good sleep, get up and go back. I really don't understand what he's here for. But the master doesn't seem to care at all about this strange man's crazy behavior.

When Kyogoku-do saw us, he raised one hand as a greeting and asked us to find seats.

I sat opposite Natsumi, in my usual spot, and from my vantage point, I couldn't see Natsumi at all.

Torakuchi was sitting opposite Kyogoku-do. I told Torakuchi that the man lying down was Natsukizu Reijiro, and I also introduced Torakuchi to Natsukizu. I didn't see it directly, but I could imagine that Natsukizu slightly raised his head to greet Torakuchi, the greeting sounding as strange as his posture.

Kyogoku-do only said one sentence

"Let's hear what this strange detective has to say first."

Completely unaware of the situation, we obviously didn't even have the chance to refuse.

Natsume lay there, chuckling like a child.

"I came here today because I have something to say."

He said it shamelessly.

This shows that their visits were indeed without any clear purpose.

Next, Natsukizu recounted in detail the incredible events concerning the Shibata Zaibatsu that the lawyer named Masuoka had told us at the firm the day before.

Torikochi and I finally understood the truth about the Hakodate and Kiba's reason for being there.

Kyogoku-do stared at Natsuki's face, and only after confirming that he had nothing more to say did he finally speak: "It's not often you'll encounter friends who have connections with important figures, engage in such a reckless profession as detectives, and are so loose-lipped. Let's leave that aside for now. Brother Natsuki, what is the purpose of your visit here today?"

"Hehehe, because I didn't know. That's why I came here. I originally wanted to go to Koganei, but I thought even if I went, I wouldn't know what to do. Since we're going in the same direction, I might as well come here first. What can I do? I've never had any experience in doing research."

"You're truly a detective among detectives."

Kyogoku-do said with a look of utter exasperation.

Shimaguchi's confused voice said:

"But Minami Kinu's appearance was truly unexpected, and the fact that it's connected to such a big shot as Shibata Yohhiro is astonishing indeed."

"Birdmouth, I think it's faster to solve the problem there than to investigate the God of Miju and the dismemberment case. We can also hitch a ride with that detective, Deep."

"pass."

Kyogoku interrupted me.

"Stop this foolish thinking. Haven't I warned you time and again? Don't go after that box—Mimazaka Modern Medicine."

The research institute stepped in.

"Why? Do you know anything about this? Or do you know that doctor named Mimasaka?"

"Yes, we do know each other."

Even now, Kyogoku-do still seems unwilling to discuss the matter further.

"Did the police order the Mimasaka Research Institute to be kept secret because it was related to Shibata?"

Bird Mouth asked.

"Well, I think it's somewhat related. But it's fundamentally wrong to look at the situation from that perspective—most likely. Even if it wasn't related to a big shot like Shibata Yohiro, but just an extremely ordinary theft, as long as it's related to Mimasaka, it wouldn't be made public—that's the thing."

"It's better to avoid trouble. Is that right?"

Torikochi seemed to accept Kyogoku-do's explanation. Natsuki made a strange noise, probably because he was speaking in that same awkward posture.

"Hey. What should I do?"

"Who cares about all that? Use your brain."

"Hmph, if you want to, then so be it."