Cop in the Shell

by Slim Dustpan

A fully natural cop and his cybernetic partner, both immigrants working in a local police station located in the slums of New Niihama find themselves with an unusual case, spiraling into a conspiracy that runs deeper than they could've ever imagined. Chasing after a string of deadly incidents, and the shadowy agencies that always seem one step ahead and several steps up the ladder.

Cop in the Shell

Chapter one : Case #42-9212

The droning throbs reverberating in my skull pierced through the heavy sheets of my mind, head pounding I laid in the darkness unwilling, and incapable of gathering any will to act. Slowly, sensation began returning to me, first the cold steel of my desk, arms laid across and head planted flat down protecting myself from the seeping light of the office. Then came the acrid scent of old smoke, stale beer and the familiar feeling of nausea. The peaceful state of mind-blowing hangover was tragically cut short by a thumping blow to my back. Falling from my chair, blinded by the sudden onset of light and the impact of a cybernetically enhanced punch that propelled me directly into the floor.

"Jesus Christ! What the hell!?" I yelped my displeasure at the blurry blob that had caused me this agony.

"Sleeping on the job Hogan? What will the Superintendent think when I hand your ass in." The weighty baritone of Sergeant Akiyama was an unwelcome presence. He had a thick Japanese accent, having started in the native dominated Inner-Tokyo precincts and still unused to the mangled English creole the immigrants spoke. It turned out that other countries had English as a compulsory language, which gave rise to a shared tongue quite readily.

Noticing that I was still spaced out the Sergeant leaned down to grab me by the scruff of my collar. The uniform pips on my collar popped out of place at the force as he yanked me to my feet, clearly expecting an answer.

"I think, he'd think, I could use a ciggie" I replied blearily, rubbing my eyes

The chemical scent of cleaning product burned my nose, its unpleasant aroma rousing me from my haze, with some help from the shock of being punched; my right arm was still aching. Giving my eyes a moment to recover from the blaring light, I fumbled into my pocket for the elusive packet of darts amongst the chaos of receipts, coins and lozenges rattling about in my pants pockets.

"Well, you'll probably need that smoke once you take a look at this"

Hearing a thump, I opened my now prepared eyes, quickly adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. The flooding feeling of familiarity pouring in like a tsunami as I came face to face with my cubicle, a single usb stick was left on my desk, the sleek blue police issue drive was for those in the force who had opted to avoid cybernetic enhancement, of which I was one of the few, though it wasn't uncommon to be un-cyberized in the frontiers of New Niihama. Turning my head to the right, I made to insult my tormentor before stopping in my tracks.

The sergeant's face was set in a grim frown, while not an unusual look at the station, the strained lock of his jaw and tense stance said everything I needed to know. I was about to receive one of "those" cases.

"Shit, that bad?"

"Thats for you to find out, you're not off the beat either by the way, the Superintendent can't spare the men, you've got a busy day ahead of you" He gave me a quick pat on the back, not waiting for a reply before marching off down the aisle to harass some other poor bastard.

"Bloody typical."

Fishing out my cigarettes, the cheap paper packaging glistened, wrapped in bronze plastic coating emblazoned in red with the double happiness symbol, also its namesake, staring back up at me. Lighting the Chinese import, its harsh smoky flavour was tasteless and weighty. While reminiscing of the days when I could afford a pack of Winfields a day, I returned to my labours. Sticking the usb into the console, the display lighting up in a dazzling display of spinning loading bars and strings of dull orange text led me to the link for the casefile. Puffing away, I clicked open the file, the five pointed star of the National Police Agency blared back at me, under it was the smattering of lettering my foggy brain struggled to focus on.

Realising I was in no state to do anything right now, I decided to procrastinate. Flicking my eyes to the top corner of my desktop revealed the miserably early hour. 5:32 AM, no wonder the station was nigh on empty, everyone was either at home, still on the beat or one of the few hapless suckers like myself burning the midnight oil. I wouldn't have to hit the beat till seven in the morning, leaving me over an hour to get ready for the day. Heading to the break room, I walked past the silent whirring of office cubicles, the machinery humming away without their users, listening to my feet as they clacked across the steel railing overlooking the rest of the cubicles below. Below empty desks sprawled out, the occasional hunched silhouette and the light symphony of clicking keyboards the only sign of human habitation.

It took a good twenty minutes to reach the break room, which was infuriating for such a small precinct, the placement of the break room was on the roof, to maximise transit time. For a station with hardly a hundred officers total, our break room was the size of your average inner city studio apartment and was completely cramped. Unmaintained since the building was first converted from a silk mill, the grated steel floor and flaking plaster had remained unchanged and increasingly dilapidated since I had first joined the force. The break room was empty at this time, lit by the flicking glow of the slowly spinning fan light, the product of the Superintendent's long running campaign against his officers' break time; he had found the damn thing at the dump after we had spent the past year complaining about the poor air conditioning. He had only let up when we pooled our wages to bribe a police union official to get involved.

My lips quirked up slightly at the memory, the cigarette moving upwards as it shifted alongside my smirk. Chuffing down the last few puffs of the dart, I lit up another while I put a pot of coffee on. To deal with my headache I shunted my head under the communal sink taking in a few gulps of water, the metallic tang of the local water lingering on my tongue.

Picking out a rationed bar of concentrated caffeine I placed it into the prying claws of the machine, the slot for the bar sucking it with a rush of air. Inside the bar would be magically churned into liquid by the clunking monstrosity that was the coffee machine, talking up a good half of the back wall. As I waited the TV drew my attention, playing some real crazy shit, apparently a government black ops department had been planning a coup d'etat, they were in a shootout with the army at this very moment. I looked up to the portrait of the Prime minister on the wall, his unassuming tense bureaucratic face gazed back down blandly; I still can't remember his bloody name. I wondered then why I'd even immigrated to this damn shithole, Japan was no better off than Australia had been, the Fourth world war hadn't left anywhere in what you'd call a stable state, though in the end who was I to complain when I too lived under the auspices of the Japanese miracle. Whatever was going on up the chain, well, it just wasn't my damn problem.

My reverie was broken by the ding of the coffee machine, a little styrofoam cup filled to the brim with a thick black liquid sloshing within. Sipping at my coffee ration and chain smoking away, I ignored the TV and began the ponderous march back to work. Now filled with stimulants I was able to ignore my fading headache and get back to work. Leaving the muggy comfort of the break room I returned to the sprawling cubicles of the central office block, heading back to my little slice of the public service. Halfway there, mind numbed by nicotine and coffee, I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge the embarrassing flailing of my partner, Senior Constable Chang, former Shanghai police, back when there was a Shanghai. He was a proper old hat, though it didn't seem to dampen him one bit. Chang, noticing I was ignoring him, stopped waving wildly at me and walked up, his own cigarette smouldering away in his hand. He stopped to look at me as I took a long sip from my coffee. The flat grey discs that were his cyber eyes didn't have pupils, just a simple circular grey slat with black lenses, an out of production Chinese state police model.

"Yikes Lăoxiong! You look like crap, when the hell did you get in, you're not usually this early?" Despite the light insult, there was an earnest concern behind his questioning I couldn't flub off.

"Yeah well dude… I happened to sleep at the office last night."

His brows furrowed, but he didn't comment on my overnight stay, the last case had been heavy on us both, and he'd gone straight home skipping the party last night.

Nodding his head he brought up the dreaded topic. "So did sarge get the new casefiles to you yet? The bastard jumped me the second I walked in, told me you've got the deets."

"Ah shit, yeah, I haven't looked at em' yet either, I went for a drink" I waved my coffee lightly up and down in my hand, careful to avoid spilling the liquid within while still expressing my point.

"Oh great, I guess we better have a look at them now then" Taking a long drag from his cigarette, the slightly nicer aroma of his Chunghwa's brings about a quickly crushed burst of envy within me. Chang's expensive taste, by the standards of our wages, was the black hole behind his wallet and not to be envied. As he locked into step beside me, we made our way silently to my desk. When we came before my desk I could tell Chang was judging the usb stick, he had never agreed with my lack of cyberization thought it limited a good cop, but you know, fuck him.

Pulling out a bundle of cables from the thick pockets of the flowing dark navy blue police overcoat, plugging them into the back of his neck. The hissing sound and click as they made connection to his nerves always made me a bit uncomfortable, hell cyborgs still kinda freaked me out even after all these years working with one. I pulled the file back up as Chang plugged his cables into my computer.

National Police Agency

New Niihama, Pangu Block reports - Precinct 21

Case file #: 42-9212 Date: 18/08/2030

Reporting Officer: Senior Patrol Constable Mizushima

Prepared By: Constable Sergeant Akiyama

Case Notes

Two corpses found in a ditch at Yudi docks, post-mortem Cyberbrain analysis tagged one as a Chinese immigrant labourer working at a local warehouse. Shun Lu, was discovered by two children - unidentified - who discovered the body at 12:31 AM on the 18/08/2030 left facedown in a ditch beside his workplace at Warehouse 58, a Canton run facility in Old Pangu block. The other unidentified body [Designated: Yamada Hanako] is highly Cyberized, post-mortem cyberbrain analysis impossible due to lack of neural material. Body found alongside Lu in significant state of damage, bodies currently under holding by Precinct 21 coroners department on site.

The site is under cordon by Senior Constable Mizushima, Constable Takahashi and Constable Wong.

On site Coroner's Report - Completed at: 2:39 AM - 8/18/2030 Coroner: Hiraku Morishita

Shun Lu

Ethnicity: Northern Han

Occupation: Pick Packer

Family: N/A

Age: 32

Cybernetics Type: Industrial/Offmarket

State of decay estimated to be two days from time of death, victim stabbed 22 times; 3 in left arm, 4 in right arm, 7 to the torso, 4 to left leg, 2 to right leg, one to neck and one to groin. The victim suffered from several physical blows. The victim suffered from a broken sternum, cracked pelvis, jaw and femur, three organs were removed from the victim, heart, gall bladder and scrotum have been removed by severing, if it was pre or post mortem is unknown. Cyberbrain analysis reveals the victim's cyberbrain was hacked sometime on the 5th of August by a type-89b cyberbrain trojan, all data from that point onwards is unrecoverable. Traces of marijuana found in the body system, likely date of ingestion one week prior.

Yamada Turo

Ethnicity: Unknown

Cybernetic Ethnic Preference: Central European/East Asian?

Occupation: Unknown

Family: N/A

Age: 20-35

Cybernetics Type: Industrial/Offmarket

State of decay estimated to be four to two days from time of death, High state of cyberization and damage to material limits accuracy. Body was found with significant trauma to the head, arms and legs. Yamada was shot fourteen times, twice in the left arm and twice to the right and once in both legs. All other shots were to the head. Ballistics residue indicates the head was shot last. Both arms were destroyed by blunt force trauma, likely post-mortem. Frame damage significant, left and right arm actuators shattered, power core removed, waste filter removed and all teeth removed. Traces of Category 1 methamphetamines detected in unfiltered bio-cybernetic parts alongside minor traces of opioids, body shows signs of addiction to both substances.

Case Images: …

As I flicked to the images, my hand came to a stop, reading the reported damage was one thing, seeing the gruesomely mutilated corpses was another. I felt really bad for the poor kids that stumbled onto this scene. Chang had that thousand yard stare, clearly deep in analysis, I didn't envy that he had that image directly downloaded into his brain, though in a sense I had done the same. I quickly compartmentalised the thought away, there was something more important at hand. Dissecting the scene of the case, the layout of the bodies were laid out two metres from each other, the small rectangular pit cut roughly down with damaged piping jutting out, another unfinished civil work that dotted the city.

Chang had finished reading long before I had, pulling his plugs out as I analysed the crime scene photos. Snuffing his cigarette in my ashtray, a joking gift from Roberts, my cubicle neighbour to the left who had long disliked my penchant for smoking constantly. On my fifth Christmas at the station, for secret santa he found the ugliest ashtray he could as a gift. A pale blue with a swirling brown pattern, containing the mountain of ash and butts nearly spilling over onto my desk. "Do you reckon those bodies were moved post-mortem?"

"Could've been" I was analysing a second photo showing the surrounding area, towering rusted blocks and dilapidated structures lined the street. It was definitely in the Chinese quarter, the ubiquitous double happiness was ingrained into the steel walkways while decaying steel statues of dragons, soldiers and gods watched over the scene with a hollow grace. There were people gazing over the balconies, clearly watching the officers on scene at work, a light bustle of people passing by the cordons of police tape. If anyone would know anything about the situation it would be the officers on the ground.

Rubbing my chin I pondered on the file "Well, we'll need to go door to door, we need to find out if anyone heard anything suspicious around the time of the crime, it's awfully odd no one noticed those bodies, the pit isn't that far from those apartments…"

"More likely they knew and didn't care, it's not too unusual for a few bodies to end up lying around for a while, probably assuming someone else would sort it out. Guess those kids did."

"Well unidentified ones, which is pretty odd right? Is there a recording of the report?" I couldn't help but wonder, it was too specific a point to remain in the file.

"That's just the thing, I was looking for it but the file doesn't mention anything, nothing in the national police database either? Could've been an anonymous report."

"And yet there is a distinct mention of two kids, if they know, they should've added the details of the initial report? I know our filing here isn't exactly great but there's just something off about it, I can't put my finger on it."

"Yeah, we should check in with Comms about our file before we hit our beat, see if we can find out what they heard, and why they didn't put it in our case file, we're missing some pretty standard information here." Chang's inner bureaucrat just couldn't stand the idea of mishandled paperwork, and in this case I'd be inclined to agree.

"Could be worse, at least we know who one of the victims are, we'll have to visit his family, the report didn't mention them so they definitely haven't been informed yet."

"Should've had an officer call them the second they identified the body." A statement of fact, we just didn't have the numbers, prefectural policing policy and their guidelines were hardly followed stringently, if at all by the precincts in the area.

"I guess we get the honour then" Chang snarks.

"Ha! Yeah…"

Lighting our cigarettes, Chang and I made our way down the walkway, turning off into the halls of the complex. Eventually we made it before the rattling cargo lift. The department decided that repurposing the lifts from the old mill would be more budget friendly. The rusty grate flooring penned in by its grimy white steel railings rattled out with metallic rings as we stepped on. I dropped my cigarette down the grate, watching the glowing embers descend to the ground, several floors below. The light sound of a fizzle could be heard over the hushed droning of machinery and light chatter of the station's skeleton crew. It had really warmed me up to the elevators, and I could smoke without anyone complaining, being open roof and all. Sadly though Chang wouldn't join me in this magnificent ritual, and instead pulled out his little portable ashtray from his breast pocket. A sleek black box with a silver trim, it automatically slid open to reveal a hole shaped to perfectly place a cigarette, the butt being sucked in, the slider slamming back as a slight burst of compressed air blew from the mesh grate at its side.

"You shouldn't ash on the floor, the Janitors have enough to do" Chang's delivery was deadpan, though a long time ago it hadn't been.

I looked back down to the floor, we were only two floors up, revealing a vast pile of previously dropped cigarette butts from the many smokers of the Station. I lit another cigarette, fiddling a bit as the lighter sparked, running on fumes struggling to light. Chang abstained as he unlatched the switchboard flicking the switch for the 5th floor. The elevator lurched and began its slow descent up, not being made for human transport and for significantly heavier loads it moved at a relatively leisurely pace. Chang, who could not for his life enjoy a pleasant silence felt the need to bring up the case.

"Being that cyberized, and around these parts could be a gangster. What do you think" He did, however, bring up a good point, and I rubbed my chin as I pondered the question.

"Well, usually I'd agree with you, but our mate John coulda been a wharfie since the other guy was too. Industrial workers are pretty likely to be highly cyberized." Chang however did not seem convinced.

"Mind you, Yudi is Triad turf, and it's Yamada not John." Gang activity was quite common, so his line of questioning was quite reasonable, although I felt as though he was rushing too quickly to a conclusion, we had yet to see any real proof yet of gang activity.

"Everywhere in this bloody city is someone's turf, but I get your point, sides, he could very well have been a Wharfie and a Triad." I decided to ignore his comment on the naming, it was a dead man either way call him John Doe or

"Or Yakuza, our man Lu probably isn't, he'd be Triad if anything, but the other guy? Who damn knows." So his postulation was that it was a potential clash between two groups; it wasn't unfounded considering the brutality of the deaths, but the dumping of the bodies was what mystified me.

"Okay, well say two groups of gangsters just duked it out, whoever won, wouldn't they have their cleaners sort out the bodies? If this was gang activity, well it've been done more competently if you get what I'm sayin'"

He brushed the bushy black hairs of his beard. "Hmm, that's an interesting line of thinking, if there was gang involvement they evidently didn't know about this going down, but it wouldn't be too odd if it's just a sloppy job."

"Yeah I'd keep gang conflict on our radar, we can question the locals about anything along those lines."

"I've got some old Triad channels I can get in touch with, I'll ask around"

"I thought you'd fallen out with your old mates?"

"You could say that"

"You need me to back you up?"

"Probably best that an Anglo avoids the kind of places I'm intending to visit. Most of these guys are war vets."

"Yeah righto, I'll leave that to you I guess… maybe I'll hit the pub after our rounds, check out if any of my contacts have picked anything up. I doubt it though, not the right crowd"

"Its always worth a shot, bikies usually end up knowing stuff they shouldn't."

"Yeah dude, but I think your Triad line is definitely worth pursuing, it was on their turf, we could use this to start a legitimate investigation on em, give us some leverage."

"Hmm, risky, we still owe them for putting down last week's riot"

"Which is exactly why we should find some leverage"

"Damn, good point."

We stood in silence, our plans solidified as the lift crawled up to its destination, now higher up, I dropped my cigarette down the grate again, to the consternation of Chang and we stepped into the dimly lit sleek hallways of the department's offices. While us grunts got to enjoy the wonderful oven that was the main hall, the higher ranking officers, the Inspectors, Bureaucratic Staff and those tasked to special divisions shared the top floor. Its sleek hallways, gunmetal grey, aligned above every door were the sleek signs they loved in every damn school, office and base in Japan jutting out the side. The top one was written in Japanese while the two below it were in Chinese and English respectively. It was then that having gathered my thoughts, an obvious factor jumped out to me.

"The organ removal, it could be a serial killer; ritualistic behaviour is common in mass murders, that or it's an organ thief, Chang?"

"Not unreasonable, we'll look through the database for any killings with a similar nature, for all we know there's been dozens of uncorroborated or dead cases somewhere in the files." Tragically it was common for cases to be thrown out, usually due to the cost and effort involved, a case could last months, leaving the already understaffed stations less capable of covering their territory. This often left dead cases, ones the private market didn't want to pick up or had low rewards the frontier precincts could offer. But even then.

"I mean, with a murder pattern like this a serial killer surely would've been picked up by now? It's usually the contractors who find out with the follow ups"

"It could be the first kill, or an experienced one returning to the game, hell it could've been a terrorist for all we know." Waving his hand dismissively.

"Yeah right, but why bother to remove the organs then? What motive, it's odd for a serial killer to pursue dockworkers, heavily cyberised ones at that, too powerful of a target."

"Or a crime of opportunity, they were distracted or killed separately then later dumped together, our man doesn't fit the bill for a typical gang hit or a known serial killer."

"As of yet."

"Yeah, as of yet"

The conversation tapered off, both of us thinking. Shrouded in the darkness of the halls, we marched down to communications, the sound of our steel studded boots reverberated as they clashed against the metal floor. Tapering off as we slowed down before the thick steel door. Taking in one last breath of fresh air, I pushed in the door, a thick billow of stale smoke punched me in the face. Unpleasant even to a chainsmoker like myself and to a slightly lesser extent Chang, the scale of nicotine consumption undertaken by the station's night shift comms officer; Communications Officer Pidieu was quite literally breathtaking.

The thick stench of smoke usually warded off those that Pidieu didn't want to deal with. As one of the three communications officers the station had, he took the night shift. The room was the same bleak gunmetal grey as the corridors, the room lit in the light glow of consoles, androids clacking away at the keyboards overseen by Pidieu, wires running from the back of his neck up into a large computational matrix in the roof. There was a rolled cigarette smouldering in his hands, a full mug of butts at his side and a half empty glass of wine surrounded by two empty bottles. Despite his rampant alcoholism, his continued competence, and lack of any other option had forced the Communications captain's hand in turning a blind eye to his indiscretions.

"Oi, Pids!" I wave at him to catch his attention, Pidieu turns, his brow raised, its arch rude and imperious, much like himself..

"What ze fuck do you want" Pidieu could in fact speak fluent english, he chose to put on the fake thick french accent due to his dislike of the language.

"Do you have the recording of the initial report for case forty two dash nine two oh two"

"It should be in your case file, why are you coming to me?" He had quickly dropped the accent, genuinely confused at my question.

"Well, it wasn't in the file? I assumed you just didn't have the time to do it."

"Non non, I definitely did, the sergeant should have received it."

"The hell? What's going on here…"

I looked over to Chang whose brows had shot up, his jaw hanging comically loose. He turned to look at Pidieu, his face intensely pinched. "Check the system now. We might've been hacked!"

"Merde!" Pidieu had transitioned to his native tongue, his eyes glazing over as his focus turned to the station's systems. It was only a few tense moments before he sprang back to life, the screens turning red, an alert blaring from his console. Eyes still glazed over, his body shifted stiffly to face us.

"I have informed the Superintendant of the situation, if you want to know who did it you will want to see him about this. In person."

I felt my jaw drop, Chang likely had a similar reaction, though I was too focused on the impunity of it all. "The hell, why not tell us now if you know who did it?"

"Yeah dude this is our case. Why are you going through the Superintendent, that's awfully unorthodox?"

Pidieu seemed unbothered under the pressure of our joint displeasure, simply facing back to the console as his hands spanned out into several smaller thin metal interlocking joints that breezed across the keyboard. "Well come on man spit it out!" I thrust my arm out to him to emphasise my point, though I realised it was pointless as he wasn't looking at me.

"If you must know, it is because he is the only one that has clearance to let you know. That is-"

Chang cuts in "Well then ask him if we can have it then, you've got a line to him right now haven't you?"

Pidieu, still unfazed, responded "He says you have to meet him at his office."

That sonnuvabitch and his procedure. "What about I buy you a pack of smokes?"

Chang stares at me, brows furrowed, clearly annoyed by my line of questioning. Pidieu on the other hand turns his head back to stare at me. "What kind?" A curious lilt was hidden under his monotone drawl. I fish out my Double happiness, the second the symbol appeared, his face turned right back to the screen. "Non"

I look at Chang who just shakes his head, shooting down my idea to offer his smokes before it leaves my mouth. He turns and raises his hand up lazily. "Well see you later then"

I turn back to stick the finger to Pidieu who ignores it completely. "Have a good one Pids"

A sardonic "Au revoir" drawled out in dismissal.

The steel door swung shut behind us. Chang and I turned to look at each other, his face had returned to its staple pinched frown. Flicking a smoke out of the half empty packet I lit up, Chang doing the same, we headed toward the Elevator again. The walk began in silence, the unusual events weighing on us, a terrible start to any case.

"This is really weird." I break the silence, my train of thought unsure of what to make of this.

"It could be related to the party? Or someone high up anyway…" Chang postulated, not unfounded knowing how deep the intrigue ran, It was a wonder the Superintendent could put up with it.

"For two nobodies at the docks? It wouldn't be the first time, but an Industrial worker?"

"I wouldn't speak so soon, we don't know how he got caught up in this. "

"Hmm, yeah…"

We came before the elevator again, the sheer steel doors still awaiting open as we'd left it. Stepping aboard, I went to flick my cigarette back down the grating, watching it tumble; the embers puffing out from the fall halfway before hitting the ground. Chang does the same, not even thinking as he just drops his cigarette, bouncing off the grating and getting stuck leveraged on the mesh grates. he quickly paced to the console flicking the top switch, leading us up the old factory control tower, now the command centre, Dispatch, and the Superintendents office.

The elevator rattled on, its slow ascent only broken by the drags of smoke shooting down as we puffed away the ride. The floors passed by, as the tenth floor passed, the wall cut off into a simple concrete cylinder, the elevator held in the centre by long steel posts, connected to the walkways and walls by steel beams. The ascending speed tapered roughly off as it came to a sudden clanging halt at the base of the command centre. The room remained busy, officers and androids remained at response consoles picking up calls from across the district.

Heading up the stairs to the rooms in the back we were interrupted by the waving of Dispatch officer Tsang. "Dai Lo! Over here!" waved his hand toward himself in a series of frantic jerks. Chang immediately turns to go talk to him. Shrugging my shoulders, I joined him walking behind a row of androids. Vast blocks of code appeared and disappeared rapidly from a blinking map of the city, little blue dots representing the active constables on ground. A series of white markers would appear and disappear flashing out to reveal what was presumably some kind of incident report.

Chang marched up, stopping unnecessarily close to the lanky form of Tsang, looming over him, his hunch tense. Tsang who held no love for the "Mainlander" was more than happy to escalate. Picking up a bundle of files, obviously intended for me being the non-cyborg here and waving them under his nose. "Go ahead, I've been given the grace to organise the route for your new beat."

That was odd, so I piped in "New beat? Did we shift blocks?"

"No same blocks, Just added in a stop at the crime scene for you guys, it's not that far off your usual patrol zone."

Chang was more harsh "What's the point of this? We would've stopped by anyway"

Raising his arms defensively "Its the Lou Baan, orders from the top Pungyou, he doesn't wanna hear any complaints" Flipping from a bit of cantonese to an falsely monotonous drone as he pronounced friend in mandarin instead, mocking Chang's bureaucratically perfect mandarin.

Chang seemed unplussed "Nothin but loyalty for the chief huh, fitting for a Naan Manzi." And there was why Tsang hated Chang's guts so much, he was usually more subtle with his disdain but calling him a southern barbarian was his favorite slur. It was normally pretty funny, but I wasn't in the mood for their usual bullshit. Before I could jump in however, Tsang couldn't help but rise to the bait, "Wow! A Wong Chung questioning the authorities? I didn't know you got sick of licking boots?"

Chang's poker face was steel, but I had known him long enough that I could sense it had seriously niggled him. Chang had worked for a few years in the Hong Kong SAR, more importantly he was there during the Tuen Mun uprising after the third world war, he had been one of the locusts, a Shanghai one at that, the second worst kind right behind the Beijing elite. Tsang felt the need to maintain that old beef, even if both cities were long gone now. The light curling of Chang's fist and widening of his stance was a sign that it was about to get out of hand. Tsang, the bastard, was looking for a fight, something must've pissed him off too and he saw his chance to let off some steam with Chang. Before Chang could do something he might regret, I decided to interfere.

"Hey thanks dude." I grabbed the papers from Tsang's hand, giving him a pat on the arm. "Beer later?" I asked.

Tsang seemed to remember that I existed, his smile becoming less brittle. "Yeah course, good luck with your case, you'll need it." With a pointed look at Chang, he waved goodbye and I dragged Chang off to the Superintendent's office.

"God I fucking hate that guy" Chang's grimace was fierce, more so than normal, he was usually pretty stoic in the face of Tsang's needling.

"The hell's up with you? He's given you the same shit for years and you never looked like you were gonna slug him."

"...Minds on other things, I have the horrid feeling that I know exactly what's going on."

"Well, are you gonna share with the class?"

"We'll talk to the shǒulǐng, that'll confirm everything."

"'Kay mate."

We had made it to the vast mahogany double door that separated the Superintendent from the rest of us bottom feeders. I'd have given him shit about his hypocritical and unfairly luxuriant office if it weren't for the fact I knew he'd taken on serious debt to deck it out so much. Turns out it was a political necessity to at least seem more influential than he really was, he likes to say it put more pressure on the few perps that made it all the way to his office, or the politicos that turned up every one in a while. Or so he says anyway.

Banging a heavy fist on the door, the thunking sound of steel on the hardened wood reverberated down the hallway, pinging off the steel. A squealing buzz cut out of the intercom panel above the door handle, its sleek aluminum shine belaying its low quality. The small round bulb above the central speaker slid back to reveal a little blinking red camera eye. The distorted voice of the Superintendent blared through, I forced myself to focus as my Japanese was despite years of living here was still quite sloppy, my smoke drooping dopily from my mouth as I focused.

"Fzzt.. You two! You're late, get in here now. And snuff that shit out." The eye receding under the metal sheet as the light sound of the door's lock unclicking invited us in.

Chang and I gave each other a silent stare, an unspoken concern and reassurance before entering the dragon's den, an unpleasant swirling sloshed through my gut. While bureaucratically competent and vaguely honourable, the man still left a lot to be desired. Snuffing my cigarette in the conveniently placed ashtray by the door, the boss man's means of keeping the station's ubiquitous stench of tobacco from his office. Chang pushed in the door, the low white glow of fluorescent lights running along a deep purple rimmed inlet just below the roof, where the towering white walls met with the faux wood steel reinforced beams that held up the simple sleek wooden beams decorated in koi fish and swirling patterns. The white lights dimmed to an appropriately stifling darkness that shadowed the plush persian rug sprawled out below two simple wooden seats, a few others stacked beside one of the two wooden posts that framed the hunched and worn shoulders of our commanding officer; Superintendent Kuzue Yûki.

Heading up to the Superintendent, his body framed under standing crossed flags; the top half of the rising sun cast over his glistening epaulets on his left, the right was framed under the top three points yellow star, the flags blue hues darkening before draping behind his back, melding with the same shadowed blue of his uniform. The glistening buttons and starched collar made up for his rather unintimidating physique, his stubby, fat frame buckling against the constraints of his uniform; almost bursting over his white uniform sash which he, for some inexplicable reason, always kept tight. He looked down to our boots, mine still muddy from last night's beat and Chang's from the walk to the station. Quickly wiping our boots on the cutesy coir welcome mat, emblazoned with a sardonic "Cheerfulness and kindness". A cheery cartoon police lady, your usual big boobie Japanese anime girl, gestured toward a little speech bubble with the official motto of the Japanese police force woven in as she gazed invitingly from her fabric frame back at us.

Coming before him, he waved his hands toward the seats, the pristine white gloves crinkling with the gesture. Lifting his head the light revealed his bushy white moustache, jutting mightily from his upper lip. We took a seat, a moment of silence lingering as he stared us down, clearly attempting to impart some message through the glistening pinch of his brows. Eventually he broke the silence. The high pitched twang of his began its assault on my ears.

"Chang, Hogan, I know this is an unusual request, but you must, absolutely must close this case today. It's now out of our hands."

"But sir!" - "搞什么鬼!" Chang and I exclaim simultaneously, I didn't catch what Chang said, I couldn't be fucked to decipher mandarin right now. Not only was this an illegal request, it was also a load of bullshit.

"No buts!" his heavily accented English riposted, before returning to the official tongue. "This is a Japanese precinct, you will speak properly before your commanding officer!"

Chang was the first to gather his wits, and he was better at Japanese than I was, since I'd long been coasting on the ubiquity of English. "Sir, you know you need to tell us why."

I piped in "Yeah, sir, we can't break protocol, which need I remind you, you enforce."

Yuki's pinched brow was just as drenched as it had been when we arrived, his tubby arms tensed in restraint, unmoved by our pleas. "All case material now belongs to the Special Service Squad - Public security Section 1, under the authority of the 2025 anti-terrorism and information act. You need to close this case, silently and quickly and get this off our hands."

Chang just looked flabbergasted, but I was confused, the hell did the spooks want our case for, before we had even looked into it at that. Chang however was far more knowledgeable when it came to the Japanese administration. "What? Doesn't that mean it falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Internal Affairs?"

"Yes, it does, best you don't question it. More important is that you clear this up now, I don't want Public security sticking their noses where they don't belong. If you can get some evidence and say, conveniently solve the case, at least somewhat plausibly, I'll close the case, you get paid and I'll stick it where the sun doesn't shine."

Chang however was like a dog with a bone, I sat and watched him work. With a graceful wave of his hand he grasped at the bosses sense of natural bureaucratic caution "I don't see why we aren't involved in the investigation though, they usually leave the dirty work up to us local cops? We need to be prepared for whatever we're walking into, sir." The tacked-on sir was filled with a visceral cutting edge, one that bounced off the impervious blubber of Superintendent Yuki.

"What makes you think you need to know? All you have to do is to do a little cleanup work and pass this off our hands, if Public security wants to handle the case themselves then we're going to let them. I want you on the streets, not wasting your time with supposed terrorists."

Chang doesn't take his eyes off the boss, but he flicks his thumb and finger slightly, hands hanging by his pockets. A little message to tell me I needed to back him up. Raising my finger I caught Yuki's attention "Sir, we don't want to step on any toes here" I raised my hands in a placating manner "If Section one has its fingers all over this we need to tread lightly, a bit of detail can help us clear this up quicker."

Yuki shifted, his poker face unbroken, but I picked out the shift in his shoulders, rising ever so slightly and so did Chang, pouncing on the opportunity. "We need to be sure we don't have any… problems with the higher ups, if we know what to avoid, then we can keep clear of them."

The room fell into silence again, Yuki, presumably realising that Chang couldn't be stared down, lacking a tell with his flat cyber eyes, instead turned the heat onto me. The fierce intensity and restrained scrunch of his face was unexpectedly intense, if anything bolstered by the bushy mustache and flabby cheeks which warped in the tightened frame of his face. I weathered the storm, popping my back, my composure had to be excellent, he wouldn't trust those who didn't have the discipline or loyalty to keep things quiet and professional, we however could and had. He turned away from me, facing down Chang, lingering a moment before sighing, bringing his hands down to his desk, pulling open a drawer and digging through it. A white gloved fist pulled out a fancy looking bottle of sake and a set of cups. Pouring himself a shot, Yuki much to the shock of Chang and I, doused the liquid back in a single swing.

With a heavy clack, he brought the empty cup back down. "Alright, that's fair enough, but before I tell you anything you have to assure me you will not speak a word of this to anyone, no one outside of this room is to know the details of this conversation, no matter who asks. Is that understood?" His serious tone, and the oddity of his behaviour left us no choice but to nod along and accept.

"Swear an oath." He tacked on, unsatisfied by mere nodding. A much more serious request.

Chang answered first. "On my honour and my life" hand placed over his heart.

Then I did too "You have my word" giving a light two finger salute, the gesture was casual but my meaning was implicit, I stared him straight in the eye, face stone still. I saw a smile flicker and die in the corner of his mouth, unwilling to be amused he nodded.

"Good. Alright, what you need to know is that Section 1 stumbled across something important, whatever it is they won't tell us. We only found out due to Pidieu tracing the hack back to law enforcement headquarters, I made a demand to the Commander of the Shikoku regional bureau to question the higher ups about why we'd been hacked by our own ministry. As it turns out they have the legal right to do so and I was informed that this case is no longer under the purview of my station."

Pouring another shot he continued. "I don't know what the hell is going on here, Section one does handle terrorism cases, but they specifically cited the 2025 anti-terrorism and information act. Which as you mentioned Chang, should fall under the Ministry of Internal Affairs. I fear there might be some kind of tiff going on between the higher ups now that Section 9 has been exposed. Whatever this is I want it out of my precinct. You two are going to look into this for me, discreetly, I just want it out of the way officially, if you catch my drift."

There was a bitter twang in his voice, clearly cheesed by the undermining of his authority and the betrayal by fellow cops, that it was our own department that pushed this through was a blow to our Esprit de corps. It did mean that whatever was going on behind the scenes, the Superintendent was small fry, and he didn't like it. No wonder he wanted this out of the way as quickly as possible, but he still couldn't afford not to know what was going on.

"So we don't know what they took, what they have or why they want it, is that it?" I probably shouldn't have called out the boss's dearth of details, seeing as it was no fault of its own, though I would likely pay for it later in mandatory overtime shifts.

"That about sums it up, so get this out of my hands by midnight tomorrow or you two will be helping clear the filth with the freeters in the civil service squads." The seemingly jovial ribbing belayed the genuinely mind numbing horror that would entail such a task. Cleanup squads, the state mandated unemployment retraining program forced Japan's unsuccessful youths into compulsory civil service. For us, that meant cheap, no complaints allowed labour to clean up crime scenes. Cleanup work was easily the worst part of the job, we may not have to actually do any work but no one wants to supervise the unlucky kid who had to scrape some poor sap's brains out of a food disposal shute. And yes, that is a true story.

"Well goddamn, I guess we better get onto it then eh" I playfully nudged Chang with my elbow, attempting to ease the tense mood that had developed. The bossman however was a stickler for the rules. "Hogan! What the hell did I just say about speaking properly, you do that one more time and I'll dock your pay."

The bloody hardarse "Yeah yeah, alright we're getting out of your hair now" I waved off his reprimand, though I did heed the warning, I liked getting paid after all. Yuki gave a short little salute to dismiss us. Chang and I stood, boots clacking together, Chang's salute was as crisp and perfect as it always was, my own was lazy and slapdash, raising my hand to my forehead with a lethargic pace. "Hurry up and get out of my office already."

Needing no reminder we made our way back out of his office, the mighty mahogany doors slamming shut behind us. I turned to Chang. He hadn't noticed, too caught up in his own thoughts, rubbing his beard.

"Christs sake dude, this is such a load of bullshit"

Chang just gazed onwards listlessly, it looked like we were in for a long, long day.