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Honestly, what the hell!
Megure Juzo was so angry the vein on his forehead was twitching.
Who knows what the people up top were thinking.
They'd managed to gather most of Tokyo's big shots in one place, holding a ball in some ridiculously fancy, gold-plated mansion.
They called it a "ball."
But in reality, these high-and-mighty types were scared out of their wits. The police had been useless, middle-class and wealthy folks kept dying one after another, and now they'd decided to gather and "discuss" how to find the culprit.
That's how Megure Juzo's whole unit got "invited" to the ball — not that they had much choice.
Shinichi Kudo, of course, didn't care in the slightest.
He stayed on the far edge of the room, away from the power crowd, eating, drinking, and enjoying himself.
As far as he was concerned, with Inspector Megure standing at the front taking all the heat, none of this was his problem.
Same with Mitsue Takeda.
Once, she had been the legendary "Godmother of Downtown." Tonight, she was also on the guest list.
And she wasn't the only one.
There was the High Priest of Amaterasu, the Head Priest of Inari, the "jewel" of the Onmyō Bureau, the last surviving great onmyōji…
Hearing how strange the case had gotten under Megure Juzo's watch, the elites had even invited these so-called "mystics" to the party.
Mitsue Takeda took one look.
Not a single one had real skills.
Exactly like she used to be — making a living with nothing but a smooth tongue.
And the reason she was now sitting in the far corner, completely ignored?
That had everything to do with who did and didn't have powerful religious backing.
Takeda had stepped down from her former glory. Now she was just an old… well, "senior" no one paid attention to.
When the others were frauds with connections and money, they weren't called frauds at all — they became "respected mystics" adored by the upper class.
It would take a normal person a lifetime to fully understand that kind of twisted logic.
"Good evening, Mr. Kudo. Granny Mitsue."
The friendly greeting broke the quiet as the two ate in peace.
Haruno Yukinoshita.
She strolled over with a graceful smile, looking for all the world like she was one of those above-it-all people who had no interest in the rich crowd.
In truth, Haruno — the "big fairy" herself — knew exactly who she was.
She was just a country rich girl. And she was perfectly aware of it.
So there was no way she could squeeze into the very center of the elite circle. Even if she shamelessly tried to push her way in, it would only make her look pathetic — or even offend someone important.
Look over there:
↬ The mighty Shionomiya Conglomerate. The imposing Minister Ayakōji. The famous Minister Fujiwara.
↬ And the Hayasakas, the Shijōs, the Ryūzus, the Sōts, the Chitandas, the Suzukis, and so on.
↬ And what was she, Haruno Yukinoshita, compared to people like that? She had no right to compete for status with them.
So, knowing her place, Haruno was content to drift around the edges.
Then she spotted them: Shinichi Kudo and Mitsue Takeda.
Well now… wasn't this a golden networking opportunity?
Better yet, the Yukinoshita family and the Kudo family were well-matched socially.
With just the right smile, Haruno raised her glass and offered them both a toast.
Kudo was happy enough to return it.
Sure, this case was infuriating, but his dad had always told him — you don't punch someone who's smiling at you.
And more friends meant more connections.
With that friendly start, the three began chatting.
Takeda mostly listened, letting the other two talk.
"So… you're telling me even you, the savior of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, can't figure out the killer's method?"
"…Embarrassing as it is, yeah, that's the situation."
At first, the killer's methods had a clear pattern, but after a while, the whole thing stopped making sense.
Haruno frowned and went quiet.
This was bad.
The middle class wasn't far from her own social level — the top tier of them could even touch her doorstep.
If the killer moved on from the middle class, her tier might be next.
No wonder the elites had arranged such an unusual ball.
While she was lost in thought, she noticed Mitsue Takeda wearing the same thoughtful expression, and couldn't help but smile faintly.
• The truth was, all these "mystics" were nothing more than a smokescreen the people upstairs had thrown in.
No one really expected them to help solve the case.
You could tell just by looking at the high priest and the head priest — they barely knew anything and were already getting flustered.
"Young man, have you considered the possibility that the pattern you're looking for was wrong from the start?"
"Impossible!"
Kudo's first instinct was to shoot down the amateur's interference — then he froze.
Wait… maybe it wasn't impossible.
"G-Grandma Mitsue? You mean…"
"The Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches — a method of calculating fate from ancient China. Inoue Village, Kawaguchi Crossing, Seiichirō… to someone like me, their destinies correspond to—
Jia, Yi, and Bing."
"The next few victims follow the same rule: Ding, Wu, and Ji."
As she spoke, she even pulled out something like a compass and pointed to it.
"Young man, the next one will be Geng. Bring me some info on potential people, and I'll calculate it for you."
Kudo's brain went a little blank.
What was this old lady babbling about?
But the strangeness of the case made him hesitate.
After a moment's silence, he handed her a list of people who might be connected.
Haruno stared, dumbfounded.
Seriously?
You actually believe this?
Detective, you're really going to fall for this kind of thing?
She started to wonder if she'd misjudged him.
Was she wasting her time tonight?
She almost spoke up to stop Kudo, but held back.
It wasn't that she disrespected gods and spirits — it was just that they were nothing but a vague idea.
Reality had no soil for such beings to exist.
She sighed inwardly, decided this connection was probably a dead end, but kept her polite smile, waiting quietly.
In the glittering hall, the noise around them seemed louder and louder.
Through the haze of chatter, something like a quarrel began to break out.
"What? Grandma Mitsue, you're sure it's this person?"
"Shirō Yamamoto . It's him."
Shirō Yamamoto?
What kind of ancient, old-man name from the Heisei era was that?
Haruno almost laughed out loud — but before she could, Megure Juzo's booming voice rang out from the center of the room:
"What did you say!? Shirō Yamamoto is dead!? When!?"
!!!
Her heart seemed to skip a beat.
All the surrounding noise faded, leaving only that one shout ringing in her ears.
Her smile froze. Slowly, stiffly, she turned to look at the "fraud"… no — the senior next to her, who was still perfectly calm.
Even Kudo was stunned, staring in disbelief.
Grandma… you were for real!?
This… this…
✦ From Haruno's perspective, she suddenly felt like she was looking up at something huge and strange.
✦ This old lady was the very definition of "deep and unreadable."
✦ She realized she might have lost a lot of points earlier by dismissing her so quickly.
✦ Was this… just a lucky guess? Or did she actually have real skill?
Or maybe…
"....."