Chapter 02: "Change Waits for No Man"
As you can see, refugees from the Southeast Asia region have come to the coast of Japan. They arrive with only the clothing on their back, and nothing to lose but their own children. Upon landing, they are provided with tents by the Self Defense Force and live on these beaches, forming refugee camps. They survive in uncertain winds; unsure of what their future might hold: what they will eat tomorrow? Will they be forcibly removed by the end of the night? Will they ever return home?
Thousands are fleeing the political powder keg of their countries. But with boats and rafts made by amateurs and with sub-par materials, few are seaworthy. Many refugees die: some caught in storms and capsize, while others have their vehicles fall apart on their journeys to Japan, China, and South Korea. Even with the Korean and American Navy assisting with the migration, the death toll continues to rise. The President of the United States has declared this as 'an unprecedented humanitarian disaster.'
United Nations peacekeeping interventions thus far have had limited success in quelling the violence, and the international institution is asking for member nations in Asia to increase contributions to help protect civilians caught in the crossfire. However, the abject failure of the intervention in the Sri Lankan civil war just three years prior is still a common point for debate in the global scene. Ambassadors are fearful of public backlash from home, should they commit to any action.
What is Japan to do in these turbulent times? With elections for Prime Minister on the horizon, many politicians have begun jumping on the issue.
Conservative Party member Ishihara Shin, recently had a passionate speech at a rally in Yonago. Here is a bit of what he had to say.
"We still have poor who are unable to eat. Citizens who are unable to find places to live and work with which to earn. Before we can take in these poor souls we must first fix the problems within our country! To do otherwise would be irresponsible, and unnecessarily cruel to the refugees! Why adopt a child when you lack the means to take care of yourself!? We must all come together to have our voices heard, and then can we‒"
The news program was drowned out by the sound of my phone's ringtone; the melody of PreCure 5's "Full Throttle Go Go!" interrupting the speech by the named politician on TV. I recognized the number, even though I never had it saved.
"Hello, Chief?"
"Hikigaya? I need you in."
There was no room for negotiation in his voice.
Δ▼Δ
Tsurumi Kenji was a decorated law enforcer at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. A career officer, Tsurumi worked his way up from a traffic cop to the resident Chief of Tokyo Metro PD. Many attributed this to his work ethic, numerous achievements, leadership qualities, general mindset and the state of the Japanese workforce where many saw rocketed promotions because of the dearth of personnel. And it seemed to be a trait that ran in the family: his older brother was Tsurumi Kenta, a Captain in the JSDF who was also well known for his capabilities.
Needless to say, I respected Chief Tsurumi Kenji a lot.
"We got a wild one this time, ladies and gents."
We had gathered in one of the briefing rooms. The kind that reminded you of a classroom, but for adults. Seats with attached tables were aligned in rows from front to back, each one holding either a police officer or a detective that was called in.
The Chief spoke loudly, but clearly and calmly, as one would expect from a leader.
Beside him hung a large sketch of a hooded man in a ski mask, on his other side was a blurry photo taken from a security camera and blown up in scale. The Chief gestured to the drawing and continued talking.
"We have a serial robber on our hands. Over the past week, this man here has been robbing bookstores at gunpoint. As of 14 hours ago, he's struck his fifth store."
He pulled out a notepad and began listing off features to the assembled group of law enforcement agents.
"Our suspect is a male, approximately 165 centimeters in height. Thought to be a young adult, maybe in his mid-twenties. He was last seen wearing an orange hoodie beneath a black jacket and blue jeans. We have some footage to show as well."
The lights dimmed as the projector rolled, showing us a low frames per second video showcasing the latest robbery. I noted that the suspect seems to be wearing skinny jeans, and I could see the beginnings of white text on his hoodie from certain angles. It was located on his left side, above his heart. There was limited audio.
"Put all of the money in this bag."
"Do not think about calling the police, I am watching you."
Awfully formal of the guy. It's one way to rob a store with grace, I suppose.
The video ended and the Chief answered various questions from the officers. The stores attacked were varied, some antique shops while others were chains. Times of the robberies weren't consistent, but were mostly in the evenings. However, he did strike two stores in one day in his previous robbery. Nothing was taken besides cash money. No one was killed or injured.
Yet.
"Hikigaya!" Called out the Chief suddenly, causing me to flinch and look up at him. The Chief was a handsome man, I could admit that. Swept black hair and purple eyes, with the beginnings of a five-o'clock shadow that seemed to make him even manlier. And that's without talking about how fit he was. But he wasn't intimidating, he had more of a parental sternness. "What do you think, detective?"
I was being called upon, in a way that I couldn't avoid attracting attention. The Chief seemed to be taking some ideas from Hiratsuka-sensei's playbook. How… annoying. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. No matter how times I did it, a part of me still hated the thought of people looking at me, judging me.
"Our suspect is probably a college or university student. Height and age descriptions match up. His clothing choice is also contemporary, he's wearing skinny jeans and a hoodie. The hoodie might be from an extracurricular club, if what I saw was actually an insignia on the front."
I leaned back and make eye contact with the Chief, who looked at me in approval. Spurred on by his validation, I continued.
"During the robbery he intonates his words properly, and he goes out of his way to avoid contractions. He also uses formal grammar and sentence structure. I'm thinking that he majored in something to do with liberal arts. Probably writing or literature. Could be public speaking or philosophy as well, but less likely.
"Assuming he's a modern college student, he should be quite liberal in terms of mentality and leftist in political view. Probably not the type to normally resort to crime. College is relatively cheap, especially community or city-sponsored schools. But if we change the assumption to him being a graduate student, things line up better.
"Students don't receive financial aid for help with graduate school tuition. Loans are a must for any prospective academic. I wouldn't be surprised if our perp is pressured by student loans, and has been unable to find work with his degree. This could have led to failed relationships with parents, friends, partners and he's become desperate. Thus, robbery.
"But the question here is how or where did he get a gun? The one that springs to mind would be from the university he had attended. College campuses in reality are popular grounds for drug dealers, there are plenty of young adults who like to live life fast and fun. Recreational drug use is common. I wouldn't be surprised if the suspect got involved with the drug trade, perhaps as a source of income, or as a way to cope with his mental pressure. Easily a path to black market arms, and could get some from small-time criminals should he have the cash."
The final words flowed out of my body my mouth as the tension left my body. The room went silent at my speech, not even murmurs to provide background noise. But I could already feel the eyeballs on my person. I never spoke this loudly, or for this long, in front of anyone. But it's a scene that was becoming more common as of late.
The first time the Chief asked me for a profile of a criminal, I was still a detective in training. I had nervously spoke and stuttered my way through it, but managed. And it turned out that my guess was correct, which was both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing in that it was solid proof that I was useful at something.
A curse in that rumors spread around the office that I was some sort of occult voodoo mage who could read minds or something and accurately profile criminals from the strangest of clues.
I was never interested in defending my reputation, and my adult life was no exception. And so I found myself at an arm's length from my coworkers. I preferred it this way, work got done and I didn't have to talk unnecessarily to anyone.
"How can you be sure?" A voice directly behind me asked. I craned my neck to look at a burly officer who had his arms akimbo in a standoffish manner.
"I'm not sure at all." I answered truthfully with a shrug. "But the fact that he robs bookstores is a red flag. Not many people know this, but the markup on books is actually quite lucrative. It produces enough profits that the company Amazon was able to amass the initial financial capital to expand into other businesses, and eventually become the most valued firm in the world.
"Only people who would be aware of this fact are those that are in the know. Someone familiar with the book industry. Putting two and two together, he's a graduate student of literature."
I turned back towards the Chief and slouched further into my seat in an attempt to stretch. "The suspect will want to go rob bookstores in areas he's familiar with. He's not a criminal by trade, he's been driven to it. If he knows the layout of the store, then the likelihood of success for the robbery goes up. He must have either lived in Tokyo or went to school here, so we can guess that the next attack will happen in the bookstores downtown. Specifically around the universities."
I sighed and gave the final piece of information I could deduct. "He'll want to reduce witnesses and lower chances of someone calling the cops. Expect him to strike in the mid-evenings, when most readers and students tend to go home. That's what I would do anyway."
The Chief put on a victorious smirk before he began to bark out commands. "Folks, Detective Hikigaya has given us a profile. I want potential areas to be listed and patrols formed within the hour. This man is armed, make sure to gear up properly! The rest of you are dismissed!"
The room sprung into action as officers took their orders and began to file out of the room to complete them.
"What a freak."
"He can't be human, can he?"
"He's got a screw loose. Maybe six. I'm telling you right now, this profile might as well the perp's biography."
"Creepy as hell. He has to be psychic, right?"
The chatter was accompanied by more side long glances, but I remain seated, waiting for the last person to leave before I make my own exit. Some habits never die: once a loner, always a loner.
"Hey, Hikigaya!" Called out the Chief from behind me. "Good work!"
"Whatever you say, Chief… "
Δ▼Δ
I absentmindedly left HQ, cutting my work day early without telling the Chief, and began wandering around. I didn't take my car to work again today, and so opt to take another scenic walk. My feet carried me downtown, to a bustling little metropolitan area. I walked past chic shops and admired the neon signage, letting myself get absorbed in the chaos of this quaint market district. Crowds walked by in strange routes and my mind managed to go blank for the first time today. I would truly be able to relax…
But for the second time today, I was interrupted by my phone. Two calls in the same day? Is this an omen? The caller ID is missing, but I decided to answer anyway.
"Hello?"
"Yahallo! Hikigaya-kun~!" Haruno answered back cheerfully.
I physically recoil at her voice and look at my phone screen to make sure it was actually her. I can hang up, right? No, she knows where I work, she'll just ambush me. Then I needed to negotiate. Talk briefly and limit the information you give out.
"How can I, uh, help you?" I'm off to a strong start, as usual.
"Are you free for another date?" Klaxons went off in my head, alerting me to the obvious presence of a trap.
"No." I reflexively denied.
"Aww, why not?"
"I'm at work." This was a believable excuse, and she knows what my hours are. This should work.
"Hikigaya-kun~!" She cried into the phone. "If Onee-san didn't know any better, she would have thought you were avoiding her!"
"Why are you speaking in the third person? And besides, I have no idea what you're talking about." Shit, shit, shit, why is she doubting me? Does she know something I don't?
"Onee-san doesn't like liars! Look to your left, across the street!"
My stomach dropped at these words, and I hesitantly followed her instructions. Lo and behold, Yukinoshita Haruno stood in that ash gray suit from yesterday, her pants befitting her frame far better than it had any right to be. She waved excitedly before bounding over and standing before me. I sighed deeply and allowed Haruno to drag me to a place of her choosing. Again.
I found myself with a cup of Americano at a coffee shop that was situated within a bookstore. My company for the evening being the she-devil herself, seated across the small circular table.
"So, have you kept up with anyone from high school?"
Why does the topic always come back to me?
"Does Hiratsuka-sensei count?"
"Oh?" Haruno looked surprised. "That's a name I didn't expect to hear. I haven't heard from her in years, how is she doing?"
"She's doing pretty well. Has a house in Shibuya." I took a sip from my cup and contemplated how much I should I say. "It's nice. She still looks out for me too. "
"Is that right?" She leaned forward and whispered. "Do you live with Shizuka?"
The innuendo didn't go over my head, but I refused to give her the reaction she wanted.
"No."
"You're no fun." Haruno pouted cutely. "So you live alone then?"
"Yep."
"How are you feeding yourself? Can you cook?"
"I'm a master of making instant ramen. No other man can perfectly measure the amount of flavor powder to bring out the greatest taste in that champion of cheap and filling food for the blue collar worker."
Haruno giggled at my speech. "Aficionado of instant ramen, huh? That doesn't sound too healthy! Are you still single?"
Ah, here we are.
"Of course I am."
"But you had girls crawling all over you back in the day. What a shame…"
"I resent such an outlook!" I said fervently. "Bachelorship is the ideal living situation for a young man in the city. Being single is financially beneficial, no need to spend money negotiating relationship sanity. It's preferable for your mentality too! Imagine not having another boss at home to deal with. Its bliss no matter how you look at it."
Haruno broke out into bubbly giggles. I wait for her to finish. As she wiped the tears from her eyes she asked another question. "Do you at least have anyone in mind?"
A certain face popped in my head, and I quickly suppressed it. That's it, I was done playing games.
"... why are you really here?"
Maybe my serious expression and words managed to get through to her, for her face also turned somber. Which was an expression I never ever thought I'd see her wear. Like, never ever ever.
"Alright, alright. I'll stop beating around the bush." She took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. "You see, I wanted to let you know that Yukino-cha‒"
The sound of a bell alerted everyone in the bookshop that a new customer had entered, which naturally attracted my attention. Haruno's words stop registering in my mind when I looked at the person who had just strolled through the glass door. I recognized his clothing: skinny jeans, orange hoodie, black jacket, and a ski mask.
Fuck.
I didn't even think. My hand flashed outward, quickly grabbing Haruno's hand and pulling her away before the man turned around. She yelped briefly as I shoved her behind a bookshelf. As I do so, I caught a glimpse of the man procuring a pistol from his jacket and firing a single shot into the roof. The deafening sound caused the customers in the store to scream in panic.
I was worried Haruno would do the same, and had my hand placed over her mouth. Impressively, she was somewhat collected and just looked at me fearfully. I heard chairs sliding wildly as the robber demanded everyone to get on the floor and keep their hands where he could see them.
I turned to Haruno and whispered fiercely. "I want you to stay glued to my back. I move, you move. Understand?"
She's frightened, but she nodded her head. She gripped the hem of my jacket tightly as I turned around. I slipped my hand into my jacket and removed my gun from its holster. The click of the safety being disengaged got Haruno's notice, whose face looks horrified at the presence of a weapon.
We slowly moved from cover to cover quietly. I peered through the gaps in the shelves to check where the robber was and what he was doing. We got to the furthest corner of the store, where the ice cream freezer was located. I pushed Haruno behind it and told her to stay there until I said it was safe. I carefully peeked my head around the corner.
The robber had his gun pointed at the cashiers head, demanding money just like in his previous robberies. All in that characteristic formal tone and voice.
From my vantage point, I had a clear view of the weapon. Dark steel and relatively small. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like a Chinese Type 54, a "Blackstar." Seeing a prime opportunity for intervention with minimal bloodshed, I carefully took aim, and fired. The sound of the shot momentarily stole the robber's focus, but the bullet already forcibly knocked the gun out of his hands before he could respond.
"Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department!" I stood up and kept my gun trained on the robber. "Put your hands in the air!"
I could feel sweat slide down my back, hoping and praying the robber wouldn't do something stupid.
Unfortunately, he did.
Before I could even react, the robber dove behind a fallen table and seized a man by the collar. A knife was held over the man's neck. "Don't shoot! I-I'll kill him if you shoot!"
"Let the man go and then put your hands in the air!" I ordered, keeping the sights of my gun aligned. "I repeat, let the man go, then put your hands in the air!"
"Don't come any closer!" The robber screamed as he jostled his hostage violently. "I'm serious! I'll kill him! I swear!"
The tip of his knife slightly pierced the victims throat, a small trail of blood fell and stained his white shirt. The robber's eyes are incensed and filled with madness. His pupils were far too large for it to be normal. Dammit, was he high right now?
My breathing was even despite understanding that the situation had gone from bad to worse in a heartbeat. I had naively wanted to end this bloodlessly, but now I regretted not going for a debilitating shot from the get-go. The more logical side of my mind tells me that this isn't the time to think about that. An innocent life was in the balance and I needed to make the best decision I could right now.
The distance between me and the robber and his hostage was four meters at most. The space that separated the robber's head from the hostage's was barely ten centimeters.
I've hit harder shots before.
I lined up the iron sights of my P30L.
I had held this gun for the better part of two years, and for that first year, nearly 8 hours everyday. I was intimately familiar with this weapon. I could tell you every ridge on its quad paneled polymer grip; every scratch on the barrel and slide; the way the trigger buckled after the first pull. Familiarity breeds confidence, and you could plan around behaviors that were consistent. The drill sergeant back during basic training imprinted that lesson in me. You don't become a good sniper, you get used to the gun and compensate for it. And this all comes through practice and time.
The principle was no different here.
Time slowed to a crawl as I pressed the trigger. The first point of resistance was the point of no return. My finger moved deeper until it reached the second action and passed through it. At that instant, the hammer hit the primer of the bullet and started a chain reaction that ignited the explosive powder inside the shell, creating a propelling force.
In a flash of superheated smoke and light, the robber was downed, blood pooling from the hole that sprouted in his forehead.
However, as he fell his knife gouged deeply into his hostage's chest, with the man shrieking in pain at the injury. They both landed heavily on the floor, and all was silent. I ran forward without sparing a glance at the dead criminal and placed my hands on top of the hostage's wounds. My hands quickly became covered with bright red blood as I pushed downwards with excessive force. Damn, this isn't looking too good.
"HARUNO!" I roared behind me "There's a phone in my pocket. Take it and dial the number I tell you!"
She yelped at the sudden call, but came running up to me at a moment's notice. I could feel her hands pulling the device from my jacket pocket. I gave her the unlock code and the number to dial. Only when I heard her talking hurriedly with Shiba did I return my attention to the victim on my hands.
"You got slashed with a knife. It's a clean cut, so it's going to heal just fine. I'll be here with you, to keep pressure on it so you don't go bleeding out, okay?"
I tried to speak as calmly as possible, exciting this man would just increase his blood pressure and make the wound bleed faster. I don't think I was too convincing. My tongue felt dry, like I had a rug in my mouth. A strange vibration shook the back of my brain, as if someone held a taser to my skull.
"T-thank you." Breathed the man below me. I could feel his faint heartbeat through my hands. I needed to make sure he stays conscious until the paramedics come.
"You got a name?"
The man looked at me with a funny expression, almost as if he can't believe I'm asking such a question in this circumstance.
"W-Watari Wataru."
That sounded familiar. Too familiar. "... you don't happen to be a novelist by chance? You wrote My Teen Romantic something or another?"
"Y-yes!" Watari's eyes widened in surprise.
"I would say I'm a fan… " I chuckled darkly "But your latest volume really pissed me off."
"O-oh."
"I did want to kill you myself for that ending, but I guess the universe works in mysterious ways."
"W-what?!"
"You got any family that might miss you should you happen to die to a furious fan?"
"M-my mother and s-sister. F-father died when I was younger."
"No wife? You don't happen to be married?"
"I'm… married… "
"Any kids?"
"She's pregnant… our first."
Something broke within me at those words. She was going to give birth to a new life, and its father was out here on the floor barely holding on to his own. What the hell is wrong with this world?
"Listen here, you have to survive this, okay? And when you do, don't be a stranger to that kid. Always come home and greet them. Go to their events at school. All of them, even if their school band is off-key beyond belief. Always be home for the holidays. Always. Spoil them every once in a while. Just be there."
Halfway into my rant, I realized that I was saying all the things I wished my parents had done for me.
"You understand?"
"I-I‒"
"Promise me."
"I… "
"Promise me!"
"Y-yes… I promise." He heaved out.
Paramedics arrived after some time and took the injured novelist off my hands. He gave me a weak wave as a gesture of thanks before he was loaded onto the ambulance.
The store is closed off with yellow caution tape, the customers who were trapped were now being escorted out by police to waiting medics for health inspections. The crime scene was recorded by Forensics, the flashes of cameras going off like a stream of tracers around the dead body.
I think they even removed the copper penetrator from the 9-millimeter bullet I had fired. Apparently, it hit the wall behind the robber after it exited his skull. The coroner's office came in due time, collecting the robber's dead body and mopping up the blood from the two sources. They didn't do a thing about the smell, however.
"SENNPAIII!" A sobbing voice wails as I'm assaulted by an absolutely terrified Shiba. "Are you okay Senpai? Did you get hurt? Are you dead?"
"I wish I was dead now… " I held his face at an arms length to avoid his crushing embrace.
After convincing Shiba that I was fine, I walk over and edlean against a patrol car, causing a pale Haruno next to me to flinch. She stood in silence, tightly holding onto a blanket that was over her shoulders. I can tell she was shaken by the experience, so I didn't engage in conversation, simply letting her take her time to process events. She probably just had to relive it when her testimony was taken.
"You really have changed." She whispered in a voice so low I almost didn't think she spoke.
I don't answer, silently letting her know I was willing to listen if she wanted to speak more.
"You've changed, but at the same time you haven't." She laughed bitterly and puts her head in her hands. "You're still as reliable as I remember… but also more cruel."
I don't answer because there was no need, I agreed with her after all.
"Well… maybe not that cruel." Haruno recants and tilts her head at me. "I heard what you said to that man."
Oh, so she was paying attention to me. I flexed my fingers and start tapping the side of the car in staggered beats, unsure of how to respond to her. It felt less like a conversation and more like a therapy session, where I was being forced to listen to her thoughts.
"My father told me about… your incident," She said slowly. Once again, I'm not surprised, I had expected her to go digging as soon as Shiba opened his clueless trap. "I don't think it's your fault. But I'm sure people have told you that before. I just want you to know that I think your current self is a bit more interesting than the one from high school."
My district attorney leaned forward to look up at me with a small coquettish smile, a little more life on her face. "You're more direct now. I like this more honest-to-himself Hikigaya-kun."
I had the good grace to flush and look away to hide my embarrassment. "It's nothing like that. I just don't have the energy to pretend like I don't know what I want anymore."
I was rewarded with melodic laughter, which further reddened my face.
Before I could say anything else, a black limousine pulled up before us, a Rolls Royce with a pristine paint job and wax treatment. The door flung open as a man who I often saw in the papers flew out screaming.
"HARUNO!?"
"Daddy!?"
Haruno's father, Yukinoshita Yoshirou, had arrived. The doting father patted down his daughter hurriedly as if trying to convince himself that she wasn't a specter from the afterlife. The worried man was soon assuaged by Haruno that she was perfectly fine, and it was all thanks to me.
The elder Yukinoshita came onto me now, commenting how he hadn't seen me in years, and how much I grew since he met me at their mansion on that day. He thanked me profusely for saving his daughter from the bookstore robber. My efforts to deny my role went unheard, not a little hindered by Haruno's exaggerated recounting of my 'heroic' actions.
Yukinoshita Yoshirou shook my hand and promised that he would one day pay me back for what I did. And with that, they got back into the limo and returned home.
As I watched the Rolls Royce drive off, I took my H&K pistol from its holster and inspected it, noticing that I had forgotten to switch the safety back on.
My fingers brush the polycarbonate frame, its surface cool to my touch. No matter how much time since then, I was still shocked at how easy it was to snuff out a life. It barely took a second to end a man, but required the efforts of a dozen humans and much time to keep a person alive. I exhaled with a shaky breath and slowly put the handgun away.
Hopefully, this event would signal the end of my interactions with the Yukinoshitas. I couldn't handle the emotional roller-coaster that came with each meeting. The way every conversation pulled in a past I'd rather not think about, and questions I'd rather never deal with. This latest event was the cherry on top of a large 'NOPE' sundae. It would be great if I never saw Haruno and her family ever again.
Little did I know, the family I didn't want anything to do with would pay me back as they had promised. The very next month in fact.
Δ▼Δ
It was supposed to be a normal day at the office, but then the Chief showed up at my desk with a facial expression indistinguishable from a thunderstorm.
"Hikigaya?"
"Yes, Chief? … you don't look so good, Chief."
"You remember Ouma?"
Memories of our bookstore robber and the fatal confrontation were still fresh in my mind. If I remembered correctly, the deceased was named Ouma Daichi.
"I don't unremember him, if that's what you're asking."
"His family is suing you."
"... "
Come again?
Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"
Authors Note:
Welcome to Chapter 02! You may have noticed that it starts quite strangely; with a news report of all things. I'm experimenting with different forms of world building. In future chapters we will have different types of expository mediums, I hope it's interesting and that you all engage with it well.
As a general summary of this Alternate Universe I'm trying to build: the Southeast Asia region has exploded into civil wars and revolutions in a manner similar to the Arab Spring. The refugee crisis as I described was based on two periods: the Rwandan Genoiced of 1994 and the Syrian Civil War (2011 and is currently ongoing).
The international community has always dragged its feet when it comes to humanitarian crises. I wanted to convey something akin to that here, although in the modern world there would probably be a tad more intervention due to the speed of information and communication via the internet.
I won't sugarcoat it: this story will have a political backdrop. I know this is a controversial topic, but I want to make it clear that I'm not using this story as a soap box. The political drama is simply for world building and reader experience. Nothing more, nothing less.
The hilarious oversimplification of the Japanese political spectrum is because I can't keep up with the names of the various political parties and their stances. The quick and dirty solution was to just dumb things down to: Conservatives, Porgressives, and the Moderates. I didn't take Asian Democracies in my political electives at university, so please forgive me, Japanese readers!
And yes, the action scene was beyond unrealistic. However, dramatic effect everything else! I know how hard it is to disarm gunmen. Just bear with me, please. Also, did I really just break the fourth wall in trying tomurder Watari Wataru in my own story? Yes, yes I did. I had to. In real life, he isn't married and did not have a child, so I think this is a fair trade off :D. The timeline of events I'm putting together may seem strange, but don't worry too much about it.
Thank you all for your amazing response to the previous chapter. Until the next upload,
-SouBU
(Editors: Xiokenji)
(Beta Reader: Lord of Admirals 412)
Revision Log:
01/14/2019 - Re-uploaded with grammar fixes.
04/03/2019: Re-uploaded with arc title.
03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes.