Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam Page 6

  “I see. So that’s what’s going on here.”

  Dazai places a hand on his chin and nods.

  “Dazai, what’s going on?! What is he rambling about?!”

  “It’s exactly how it sounds. He was selling the victims to an organ-trafficking syndicate, but the month’s supply rose too high relative to demand. Naturally, this led to a drop in prices, throwing the market into confusion. Imagine a private one-man business suddenly entering a supply market more or less controlled by a large corporation. How would the large corporation feel?”

  “They would get mad, I guess?”

  “It would be healthy competition if these were normal, legal companies. But these organ-trafficking businesses are run by underground groups who profit off blood and violence. Causing trouble on their turf would only anger—”

  The next moment, the car is suddenly hit, then hit again so hard its wheels leave the ground. A high-pitched echo follows. The taxi’s right side lifts into the air as the windows shatter along with the sound of gunshots.

  “We’re under fire! Get down!” I yell out.

  The car rocks back and forth as if being pummeled with a hammer, and shards of glass rain down inside.

  “It’s them! H-help, help me… I don’t wanna die!”

  “Hey! Wait!”

  The driver opens the car door before bolting in the opposite direction of the gunfire.

  “Kunikida, we have to catch him before the enemy does, or we’ll never know what really happened! We can’t let him escape or turn up dead in a grove somewhere!” Dazai shouts, keeping his head down. That’s easier said than done, though! “Okay, I’ll go after the driver! You distract the enemies!”

  “Dazai, wait! It’s too dangerous to go alone!”

  Dazai darts out of the car without even listening to my warning. I can’t allow a rookie to go off on his own during his first shoot-out. We don’t have any other options, though. I curse to myself while getting a look at the enemy. Three men stand dressed in black suits and black sunglasses, equipped with submachine guns smuggled in from abroad via the black market. Judging from their attire, their skills, and their ruthless willingness to suddenly turn the place into a war zone, it’s clear who they are…

  “Damn it! This couldn’t be any worse… It’s the Port Mafia!”

  The Port Mafia is an underground organization that uses the Port of Yokohama as their base of operations. They’re the cruelest, most coldhearted criminal syndicate in the city, willing to follow any orders from their boss and crush all who oppose them. The three men here are from that organization. The longer this goes on, the more they have the advantage.

  “The Matchless Poet: Stun Grenade!”

  I record the word in my notebook before tearing it out. The sheet of paper twists into a grenade the size of my fist. Aiming at the group, I hurl the grenade out the broken window. Stun grenades are nonlethal sonic weapons used to temporarily disorient an enemy’s senses. It blows up right in front of them, emitting a light so bright and creating an explosion so thunderous that it could give a sick man a heart attack. They fall to their knees while covering their temples, perhaps completely taken by surprise at being countered with a flashbang. I use this momentary distraction to leap out of the taxi and charge the enemies. I elbow the man closest to me in the neck, knocking him to the ground. I keep my elbow out and charge the next criminal, following up with a high kick to the face. The last armed man tries to hit me with his gun, but I swerve to the side, evading the strike. As he staggers off-balance, I grab his wrist and twist while pulling inside. Then I throw him into the air with a four-corner throw. The Mafia member goes flying and lands cranium first, immediately losing consciousness.

  “Good grief.”

  After making sure they’re all out, I walk back to the taxi.

  I really hope Dazai’s all right…

  Just then, I suddenly sense an ever-increasing thirst for blood coming from behind. Something flies past my side before I can even turn around. The black torrent runs through right where I was just standing, hitting the taxi and cutting right through it, too. As the vehicle completely splits in half, springs and shafts take to the air, scattering every which way. Without even a moment to let my surprise sink in, I kick off the ground to evade. The nearby sign and handrails are finely sliced into pieces. After rolling across the ground and looking back, I see a small-framed man clad in black in the distance.

  “Cough, cough…”

  That must be the source of the bloodlust.

  “Cough… I came thinking this was going to be an easy side job. I wasn’t expecting to run into someone skilled enough to neutralize three men in the blink of an eye. I’m impressed. Now let’s see how you fare against Rashomon.”

  With no weapon in hand, the young man simply walks toward me with his back hunched, occasionally coughing. However, the malice oozing from his body soon transforms into a silent but furious storm.

  A man short of stature dressed in a black overcoat, with the skill to control a black torrent—the Port Mafia’s Hellhound.

  “You… You’re Ryuunosuke Akutagawa from the Port Mafia, aren’t you?”

  “The one and only. I was sent here by the boss to dispose of the fool who trespassed on our turf. Where is he?”

  “He’s not here. He ran away with his tail tucked between his legs.”

  I point in the direction the driver ran, but my eyes remain locked on Akutagawa. I don’t look away—not even for a second. This man is the worst of the worst. Even the toughest criminals run away in tears when they hear Akutagawa’s despicable name. The Black-Fanged Hellhound, the Skill User of Destruction and Disaster, the Apostle of Calamity and Despair: There are too many aliases to count. This is my first time actually meeting him, but judging by what he did to the taxi, he’s even more dangerous than the rumors made him out to be.

  So what’s my next move? It’s simple. His target is the kidnapper, and there’s no reason for me to risk my life to protect a kidnapper against someone this dangerous. All I need to do is back off.

  “He’s a witness. I cannot allow you to kill him until he tells us where the other missing people are. If you want to go after him, you’re going to have to get past me first.”

  “You’re willing to risk your life for a murderer? Just as I expected.”

  Damn it. I can’t believe how stupid I can be. But as a member of the Armed Detective Agency, I cannot allow our witness to be helplessly killed by this scumbag.

  Do what must be done. I mentally recite the phrase from my notebook. Akutagawa’s black overcoat wriggles. It’s as if a thousand specters gathered and meshed, taking form. It’s no longer a coat; part of it transforms into a claw, while another part begins to take the shape of a piercing fang.

  “Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, the Port Mafia’s attack dog.”

  “Doppo Kunikida, Armed Detective Agency.”

  Akutagawa launches a shadowy blade in one explosive motion. It disperses into a black rain, heading right in my direction. I jump to the side. A few dark blades pierce my shirt while the others stab the wall behind me, leaving numerous holes. I jot down a word in my notebook and tear out the sheet before he can draw his blade to attack. The piece of paper instantly transforms into a wire gun. Squeezing the trigger, I shoot the hook…but moments before the iron-penetrating hook reaches him, it’s deflected by an invisible wall.

  “What…?!”

  I saw no signs of him moving to defend. Is this another one of his skills? Before I can even reel in my airborne hook, part of Akutagawa’s coat transforms into a shadowy beast. With a roar, it swings its head. It’s quick!

  I twist away to dodge, but its fangs tear into my left shoulder. Blood spurts out of the wound, but I don’t have time to stop the bleeding. I step back while evading the beast’s relentless fangs. I have no chance to counter, let alone even get near the thing!

  “Is running away the only thing you know how to do? You’re putting me to sleep,” he scoffs, still standing
upright. A cold bead of sweat runs down my cheek. He’s strong.

  Akutagawa speedily shoots his lethal shadowy blade at me from only a few feet away, giving me no chance to do anything other than dodge. To make matters worse, any projectile I throw at him is easily knocked aside. Even if I do hit him, he’s being protected by that mysterious force field. He has no openings.

  I dodge the flurry of attacks until I land on a paved road, where a sudden unidentifiable chill eerily shoots down my spine.

  A blade thrusts up from the pavement before shooting back into the air like a fountain of spears.

  He was getting me to focus on the aerial attacks while he used another blade to pierce the ground! I try to turn my body and jump away, but the ground is uneven, and I’m too late. The pitch-black blade penetrates my side and exits through my back.

  “Gah…!”

  My vision blurs from the excruciating pain, and I helplessly fall to my knees. This isn’t good. The next attack is coming. If I stop moving for even a second, I’m dead…but there’s nothing I can do. The black fabric of Rashomon wraps around my neck, lifting me off the ground. It bends like a serpent’s neck, then catapults me into the nearby wall.

  “Pathetic. I guess I shouldn’t have expected much from a detective agency that works for chump change. Don’t worry. It’ll all be over when I snap your head off.”

  The black fabric tightens around my neck. I start to see red.

  “There’s always someone—someone who wants…to get in the way of my work!”

  As Akutagawa’s skill strangles me, I shoot my wire gun. My target isn’t Akutagawa, though. The airborne iron wire’s hook directly hits the water pipe running up the building next to him, showering him with water.

  “What…?!”

  He raises his arm to block, but the high-pressure stream fully drenches him and the ground around him.

  “Fool. Do you really think a little water is going to scare me?”

  I raise another sheet of paper in my left hand into the air with something else I wrote down while making the wire gun.

  “The Matchless Poet: Stun Gun!”

  I instantly turn on the handheld high-voltage stun gun before tossing it into the puddle of water. A flash of light shoots out, and sparks fly.

  “Nnng—gaaah?!”

  Using the water as a conductor, the submerged stun gun emits beams of violet and white light. A purple flash of lightning jolts through Akutagawa’s wet body like a boa constrictor wrapping around its prey. The flash shines as bright as the sun before eventually disappearing along with the hiss of steam and the crack of the ground splitting under it. Rashomon’s grip around my neck loosens, and I land on the pavement below. As I cradle my injured neck and side, I glare at Akutagawa. He’s on his knees as steam and white smoke rise from his body.

  “Heh-heh… Ah-ha-ha-ha!”

  Akutagawa’s shoulders shake as he laughs. He can still move after taking a shock like that?

  “Looks like I was wrong about the Armed Detective Agency. Heh. This is wonderful. Truly wonderful.”

  “…Come at me if you want to keep going. I still have plenty more paper left.” I force myself to my feet, then get back into stance with the wire gun.

  “By all means, I would love the opportunity to see whether you have what it takes to kill me, but it seems we have guests.”

  I follow Akutagawa’s gaze and see the city police approach with their sirens blazing. Somebody must have reported the gunshots.

  “A pathetic traitor won’t be able to hide for long before we hunt him down. I will withdraw for today. We’ll continue this soon.” He coughs and turns his back to me. He leaves just like that, with the same nonchalance as if he was going home after a walk. Honestly speaking, continuing to fight and withdrawing probably aren’t too different from his point of view.

  “I’d rather you not come back…”

  I fall to my knees while watching him walk away. Akutagawa from the Port Mafia is just as— No, he’s even fiercer than the rumors say. No thanks on the rematch. For now, I just want to go home and sleep like the dead.

  Unfortunately, this is no time for a nap. After a short break, I return to the agency to report what happened. In the company’s infirmary, I have my stomach wound temporarily patched up, then head to the office. That’s where I find Dazai sipping on some tea as if he was relaxing after a hard day’s work.

  “Dazai, you caught the taxi driver, right?”

  “Of course. I tied him right up and handed him off to the police. He was actually thrilled that the Mafia wouldn’t be able to assassinate him anymore.”

  I’m relieved. It appears Dazai isn’t as stupid as I originally thought. I was almost worried that he knew it was the Mafia attacking us and used chasing the kidnapper as an excuse to escape. Nevertheless, everything ended up working out, so I guess it was just a groundless fear.

  “It looks like the taxi driver will be charged for the series of kidnappings. Case closed.”

  I worked my fingers to the bone on this case, and in return, I get paid nothing. The military police will toss us a letter of thanks and a small gift as an expression of their gratitude, and that will be the end of it. Good grief.

  “I don’t feel like working anymore. Let’s get today’s tasks over with and go out for a drink.”

  “Your treat?” Dazai asks, beaming with joy.

  “You’re a real piece of work. I’ll pay, but you better work your ass off tomorrow.”

  I return to my desk and take care of my remaining duties. I skim through some documents that are being passed around, then make a few business calls. After that, I start recording the case’s details until inadvertently glancing at my work computer and noticing I got an e-mail. Paying little attention, I begin to follow the sentences with my eyes. After finishing the e-mail, I start over from the beginning.

  “Dazai.”

  The moment I call for him is the moment I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

  “We’ll have to take a rain check on those drinks. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Whaaat? But I was all ready to drink. There’s a hole in my stomach shaped exactly like a cup of sake.”

  “We got a job offer…from the anonymous client who lured us into the abandoned hospital.”

  My throat is dry, and my tongue is stuck in place. The next words don’t want to come out.

  “It’s a request to defuse a bomb. If we don’t find and defuse it by sundown tomorrow, over one hundred people will die.”

  INTERLUDE I

  It’s the middle of the night. On the busy downtown street, a man gazes at the flickering lights in silence from the car window. He’s parked on the side of the quiet road, not another soul in sight. The diodes in the car faintly illuminate his face.

  “I can’t wait until this job is over,” he mutters to himself while typing on the thin laptop on his knees. Strings of letters cover the entire screen.

  “I mean, I’m not good at this electronic stuff.”

  He smiles faintly, his fingertips nimbly tapping the keyboard. The letters dance across the surface.

  “…But I guess this isn’t something I can let others do.” He chuckles to himself in the dim car.

  “Now, will the detective agency—will Kunikida—be able to see through the smoke and mirrors and save the city of Yokohama?”

  The man—Dazai—looks out the car window. The flickering city lights of Yokohama ripple over the dark billowing sea.

  CHAPTER III

  12th

  Here at the office, the midnight oil burns until morning.

  I sit before a solitary light, unable to sleep most of the evening.

  The countless deaths, the people lost…

  There is no difference between myself and them. Are we not all born on the same planet, only to ultimately return to the eternal heavens together in death?

  O divine creator, answer me.

  “Allow me to begin.”

  I address the attendants sit
ting around the table. The agency’s conference room doubles as a drawing room. There are a total of seven workers present—office workers and detectives—and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say these are most of our top members. It’s extremely rare for them to gather like this. I pass out the necessary documents, then explain.

  “I would like you all to refer to these documents concerning our situation. To summarize, our agency is currently being threatened. Someone has crafted a careful, devious scandal against us.”

  “Yeah, the agency’s in trouble. We get it. Now get to the point and tell us about the bomb.”

  One of the attendees speaks up. It’s the agency’s personal physician, Dr. Yosano.

  “Very well. This is an e-mail I received from the offender. It will help profile the criminal as well, so please make sure to read it.”

  Dear Sir,

  I hope everyone at the Armed Detective Agency is doing well. I would first like to extend my deepest gratitude to you all for your support in investigating the abandoned building. Now, I know this is quite sudden, but I am contacting you in hopes of asking you another favor.

  Only a few moments ago, we set a massive bomb somewhere in town. Therefore, for the safety of the people, I would like for you to promptly find this explosive and dispose of it. Furthermore, this bomb is set to detonate tomorrow at sundown, so I strongly urge that you solve this case before then.

  This explosive we created is the same type of bomb that robbed the world of over one hundred precious lives during a certain incident in the past. What a horrendous event that was. The everlasting flames and blinding corona made it seem as if the sun itself had fallen out of the sky. The buildings fell one after another while innocent people’s skin melted as they struggled to escape. The ground liquefied, and vehicles were knocked into the buildings like spears. I could describe it only as hell on earth. That is why I beg that your agency makes their best effort to prevent something like that from ever happening in Yokohama.