The new president Eijirō looked straight at the press corps.
“From when I started working under my father, I suspected that Logic was conspiring with certain politicians and police to recommend accounting fraud to some clients. The fact that I couldn’t pursue this and stop it makes me equally guilty with my father.”
Eijirō-san’s eyes moistened. His expression showed a complex mix of justice, responsibility, and love for his father.
“My father was a kind-hearted man. In his will, he wrote: ‘Place all the blame on me,’ and even included detailed instructions on how to do it… But…I just can’t go through with it.”
Eijirō-san spoke with a choked voice. Between his dignified expression as the company’s leader, there leaked an atmosphere like a child rebelling against his father for the first time.
The reporters softened their accusatory stance at his heartfelt apology and simply pointed their microphones toward his words.
“Let me say this once more: I am equally guilty. And I hereby declare that I will work toward resolving this entire case. I sincerely apologize for this matter—”
Camera flashes popped as he bowed his head.
“However, the employees are innocent. They worked earnestly as consultants in their duties. I, Akamichi Eijirō, the son, will take responsibility. Therefore, effective today, I will resign from my position as president—”
At the Ōba Detective Agency.
Eijirō-san’s once-in-a-lifetime press conference challenge. I, Koyomin, and Naomi-san were watching the live broadcast with bated breath.
Well, Koyomin and I were holding our breath. Far from holding her breath, Naomi-san looked like she wanted to spit, sitting with her legs crossed and leaning back on the sofa with a dissatisfied expression.
“So he was planning to make the wrongdoing public from the start. What a waste of a good promotion opportunity… what a goody-two-shoes.”
“Isn’t respecting voluntary surrender what police should do?”
Koyomin looked exasperated with a straight face. Naomi-san pressed her forehead saying, “You’re such a goody-two-shoes too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess I’m a bad cop. But I couldn’t read that the enclosed document was an accusation about accounting fraud.”
“If it became known that the will contained an accusation about accounting fraud, the politicians and police bigwigs involved would do everything to cover it up. That’s why they insisted on live broadcasting.”
Koyomin crossed her arms and groaned.
“I see, that’s why they made the new president announcement press conference a live broadcast.”
It was a once-in-a-lifetime grand accusation for Eijirō-san—no, for both father and son Akamichi.
Naomi-san agreed with my statement.
“Newspapers and weekly magazines would be no good either. With enough money, silencing them would be easy.”
“And they would lose the chance to make accusations forever, being used by corrupt police and dishonest politicians for life…”
Naomi-san changed her posture and leaned forward to look at the TV.
She smiled at Eijirō-san, who was properly bowing on the screen, saying “Such a goody-two-shoes.”
“Even if it were made public without being covered up, if it had been exactly as written in the will, only the politicians, police executives, and father Akamichi Keitarō would have become the bad guys… Former president Eijirō couldn’t allow that.”
“Also, there’s a world of difference in public perception between voluntarily announcing it and having it exposed by weekly magazines. It’s the best action to protect the company… the employees.”
On the screen, it was being announced that Mukashino-san would become the new president along with Eijirō-san’s resignation. Despite his appearance, he’s quite solid inside, so the future should be fine.
“So the deceased Keitarō-san had headhunted a capable person he trusted who wasn’t involved in the wrongdoing from a major company for his son’s sake. If he was planned to be the next assistant president, he would naturally be taught how to open the safe.”
“Capable… is he? That machine-gun-talk old man?”
Koyomin looked suspicious. If you heard what’s in that man’s mind, you’d be surprised by how serious he is.
Meanwhile, Naomi-san, whose various efforts had come to nothing, let out a big sigh.
“Sigh… Former president Eijirō had vaguely noticed the accounting fraud, and father Keitarō had anticipated this and tried to take the blame by secretly including an accusation disguised as a memoir… That parent and child could ‘read each other’s hearts.'”
Koyomin consoled her as she slumped against the sofa.
“Too bad it didn’t become an achievement for you.”
Naomi-san snorted and laughed.
“Hah, it’s fine. With former president Eijirō’s cooperation, I can wipe out all the corrupt police executives! Now I just need to sit in the empty chairs! It’s going to get busy from here!”
Naomi-san rolled up her sleeves and stood, stretching her back.
“Alright, time to head back to the frantic main office and squeeze some sweet rewards out of those bastards who’ve been leeching off the system. You’re getting used by me again, Kanako. Plenty of tough cases to go around, after all.”
“Ehh……”
She boldly declared, “Get used,” completely unaware that she was thinking the same way as those higher-ups in the police who’d been exploiting Logic.
But Naomi-san, the embodiment of selfishness, didn’t even flinch—just flashed a sharp grin.
“‘Ehh’ my ass. Who was it that saved you and Koyomi, huh? Forgot already?”
“Guh… when you put it like that…”
“Nothing to say now, huh? Gahahaha!”
Seriously, she laughed like a total villain.
With a casual “Later,” she raised a hand and left like a boss.
Watching her walk away, I muttered under my breath.
“Who do you even talk to about stuff like this…?”
“Maybe a consultant? ‘I keep getting used because people can read my mind, please help’ or something?”
Koyomin, uncharacteristically, cracked a joke—and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.GITHUB.IO
“Revenge.”
The moment I woke up, those words were scrawled messily across my notepad.
(The hell? …Wait, where the hell did I even pass out?)
Pretty sure I went to bed properly last night, but next thing I know, I’m face-down on my work desk. The damn PC screen’s still glaring at me, bright as hell.
Squinting, I looked at the display—only to find it covered in:
[RevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevengeRevenge]
“Whoa!?”
The word “revenge” was repeated so much it was practically causing a Gestalt breakdown.
Seeing this creepy sight, I was wide awake now.
“Ugh.”
Unsettled, I clicked my tongue and flicked on the lights.
The room was a disaster. Drawers yanked open, closet ransacked—everything was wrecked.
I pressed a hand to my temple.
“Again…?”
Yeah, this wasn’t the first time. At first, it was just small things moved around, but each time it got worse. Felt like I was some talent on a variety show getting increasingly rough treatment. But—now’s not the time for stupid comparisons.
I took a deep breath and decided to assess the scene like the cop I was.
“Place is trashed, but… nothing valuable’s missing.”
Obviously—not that I’d say it out loud—even my underwear was untouched. Not like I got any feminine charm to steal anyway.
“No money, no pervy shit… then what? Unless…”
A diversion. Or camouflage.
The thought crossed my mind. Were they looking for something else? But…
“No signs of forced entry… or exit.”
This place had auto-locks, and I’d checked with management—no suspicious figures on the cameras that night.
Then my eyes landed on the note again.
“Revenge,” scribbled messily. Something felt off.
“Huh? Wait…”
A weird sensation. That handwriting… it looked familiar. No way—
“This is totally my handwriting.”
A disturbing suspicion rose in my mind.
“So… I trashed my own room? What, I got sleepwalking disorder now? No damn way.”
I mentally scoffed at myself.
Just then, my phone buzzed—mrrrm mrrrm. Too early for an alarm.
“The hell… Yuri-ppe?”
It was a call from my subordinate, Yugo Honjō Yuri.
I sluggishly picked up, only to be met with her full-blown Akita dialect screeching in my ear.
“Chill, Yuri-ppe, your accent’s leaking… What’s up?”
Then came the shocking news.
“Hah? Dead? That corrupt police exec skimming money from Logic? That bastard!?”
According to Yuri-ppe, he’d apparently poisoned himself early this morning.
Something about that didn’t sit right.
“That for real? Didn’t seem like the type yesterday.”
I’d grilled him hard—he was practically gleeful during interrogation, spouting shit like, “You think you’ll get away with this?” and “I’ll show you what happens when you cross me.” Dude was fully planning to weasel out of it.
Uneasy, I told Yuri-ppe, “I’m heading over,” and started getting ready.
“Dead… Shit. Still had questions for that bastard.”
As I changed, frustration took over—I slammed a fist on the desk.
“He was definitely involved in Kanako and Koyomi’s kidnapping case…”
That embezzled Logic money had to be funneled into research on their abilities.
(Someone’s carrying on Dr. Ataoka’s work… I was so close to catching their tail—!?)
Then it hit me.
“This mess… were they after the files?”
A chill ran down my spine as I grabbed the small box where I kept the kidnapping evidence and Dr. Ataoka’s research notes.
It was disguised as a high-end whiskey box—no one would guess it held anything but booze.
“Still safe… but better move it.”
I weighed my options. The main office was risky—too many snakes. Then…
“The Ōba Detective Agency. Still the best bet.”
Clutching the box, I hurried out, forcing a smirk to mask the gnawing unease in my chest.
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