Disclaimer: I do not own Psycho-Pass nor its characters. They rightfully belong to their creators!
Shortly after their meeting, the team had spilt up to investigate; Masaoka and Yayoi went along with Ginoza to Takeshi's house while Kougami and Akane arrived at the club. When they made their entrance, Akane was in complete awe.
Shards of glass from tables were dissipated in many directions. An empty aquarium was situated nearby the corpse. Green kelp were suspended over the fractured opening. The noxious smell of dead fish and the nearly unidentifiable corpse was unsettling, but Akane pushed on, her lips screwed tightly. Lights from the outside flashed; its brilliant colors bouncing off the shattered glass on the floor. Quiet whirs of the robots sat motionless, forming a line around the body waiting to be examined by the duo.
As they walked through the vacant club, puddles underneath their leather shoes sloshed. They approached Takeshi's body. The upper part of his body was exposed; coagulated blood covered his lacerated countenance. Putrid bruises peppered his skin as though countless fingers grabbed him with no mercy.
Akane crouched down to scrutinize the carcass. His abdomen was sliced open, the skin was grafted away from the incision, and black scorpions and beetles replaced the organs that once resided in there. She wished she could bleach the disgusting sight out of her mind and moved away with her hand placed over her mouth.
"What did they do to the organs I wonder?" Akane muttered behind her fingers as she fought back her nausea. She had avoided seeing the gleaming onxy shells of the scorpions and beetles. At least they were not alive.
"Who knows," Kougami responded in return. He didn't seem bothered by the dead body lying on the floor next to him.
"Then they have been disposed of so they could be anywhere..."
"Or close by," he shrugged.
"Mr. Kougami…" She stood up, exhaling. Sweat brimmed at her brow as she glanced around.
"Hm?"
"Ah, I was going to suggest we go upstairs to search for any more evidence. Perhaps, we might find something."
"Good idea," Kougami grunted, "Let's go then."
With glowing Dominators in their hands, they ventured up on the staircase. The corridors were long and confined. Pictures encased in glass panels hung on the walls—they featured lewd women who wore nearly nothing. There were also several doors on both sides which led to private rooms.
The curious Inspector had a hunch what the rooms' purpose was for. In clubs, it was common for them to have exclusive, separate settings for who wanted to participate in "recreational" activities.
God knows how many crimes happened here behind these closed doors. Akane noiselessly agonized over the poor victims who had to suffer. She knew this building was a private brothel though it was outlawed.
Curiosity reeled her back from her train of thoughts. She stopped by one entry that was ajar unlike all of the other closed doors.
Her eyes lingered onto the doorknob before she pushed it open cautiously. The hinges made protracted squeaks, and the inspector cringed at the noise. She held her Dominator high, her index finger near to the trigger, and snuck into the room. Kougami posed his Dominator in similar fashion as he tailed after her.
Click.
A thin rope snapped in half when the woman stepped on it without suspecting it. The black thread disappeared underneath the clutter. Akane jumped back and bumped into the male Enforcer. Frantically, she looked around.
Then a recorder played a nonchalant speech in rhythm of the ticking clock above them. Horrified by the familiar teasing voice, Kougami froze.
He couldn't move away from the icy grasp of a certain ghost he had harbored hatred for. Unwanted memories gushed through his mind like a relentless waterfall. He was a drowning rat struggling to elude the barrage of guilt.
"Let's start with today's riddle, shall we?
'What does man love more than life
Fear more than death or mortal strife
What the poor have, the rich require,
and what contented men desire,
What the miser spends
and the spendthrift saves
And all men carry to their graves?'"
Shogo Makishima voiced the quandary almost quite lyrically.
Nothing. They carry nothing to their graves. Kougami reciprocated the answer.
Suddenly, he pulled himself together, alert. Both of their very lives were in danger. Wasting no time, he gnashed his teeth as he gyrated on his heels and snatched Akane before she could dissent. As far he could spur himself, he dove out of the doorframe and onto the floor with her in his arms. The vibrant color of red bloomed violently at the corner of his eye.
An ear-shattering explosion soon extinguished Akane's shout while they landed onto the floor. Intense flames rolled angrily out of the portal, debris propelled through the air and created dents into the walls. The dark mauve wallpaper curled away from the many tongues of fire. Flecks of ash floated buoyantly above them on the floor. Kougami held the woman close to him, his arms engulfing her. He lifted his head to survey Akane, "Are you okay?"
However, she was unresponsive. Her head had struck the floor upon the impact; stars twinkled behind her skewered-shut eyelids. Incessant rumblings roared in Akane's ears. Out of instinct, she clutched onto the coarse fabric of Kougami's jacket. Then her grip weakened as she lost her consciousness. The pitch-black darkness devoured her as in whole.
He clambered off her, panic arising, and swooped a calloused hand under her neck to support her head. With his free hand, he shook her to see if she would, "Dammit! Inspector Tsunemori, wake up!"
He squinted his eyes through the thick haze before he heaved her body gently into his arms. Unmerciful stabs of pain shot up his spine as he stood up, but he ignored easily because Akane was frighteningly limp in his strong caress.
He had to get her to safety.
Riddle is by Dr. Ernest Drake.