Chapter 30: Would You Like a Cup of Coffee?

"Sorry..."
Yuki whispered his apology as he rubbed the side of his hand, still throbbing dully.

From the very beginning, he had trailed about half a body's length behind Officer Sakura, waiting for the moment they would step into a surveillance dead zone. Then, catching the officer off guard, he brought down a precise karate chop, felling him to the ground.

It was a dangerous move—if one miscalculated, it could easily be fatal. The saying went, "If one dies from a single chop, then so be it; if not, they faint." Yuki had used this technique before and had some confidence in it, but it was still a risk he only took out of absolute necessity.

After all, time was short, and he had no chance to search for tranquilizers or anything of the sort.

As Officer Sakura collapsed, Yuki caught him swiftly, then gently laid him on the floor. He supported the officer’s head, pried open his eyelids to check his pupils, and pressed a finger to his neck to feel for a pulse. After roughly confirming that Sakura’s condition was stable, he dragged him over to a spot by the wall, hiding him in the shadow between a copy machine—taller than a person—and the wall.

It wasn’t that Yuki didn’t want a better hiding place, but this was the police headquarters; take a few more steps and you would be back in the camera’s eye—blind spots were rare.

He took the access card from around Sakura’s neck, then, unhurried, walked back to the elevator lobby and used the card to call the elevator.

Knowing he was now within surveillance range, Yuki made no unnecessary moves. He simply stood there and waited. Soon, with a soft chime, the elevator doors slid open.

Yuki stepped inside, pressed the button for the seventeenth floor, and then the door-close button. After a few seconds, the heavy doors began to close with a solid thud; the interior and exterior doors sealing in sequence. Then—

The elevator lights abruptly went out.

"...Huh?"

The sudden darkness engulfed Yuki; even the LCD panel showing the floor numbers was dead.

A power outage?

But the ventilation fan still seemed to be working—he could feel a faint breeze from overhead. For a moment, only his own breathing and heartbeat filled the silence.

Just then, a voice came from the speaker above his head.

"The seventeenth floor is the core office area. Without prior system approval and authorization, you can't go there, Yuki Kudo."

That voice...

Yuki stood his ground, not flustered at being exposed. He thought for a moment, then looked up toward the source of the voice and spoke: "I have... something very important I wish to discuss with you in person. Please permit me."

The elevator fell silent once more.

How long did darkness and silence last? In the pitch black, Yuki closed his eyes, gripped his left wrist with his right hand, thumb pressed to his pulse, counting heartbeats while waiting for a change.

Perhaps the elevator doors would suddenly fly open and he would find himself staring down a dozen gun barrels?

Two hundred heartbeats passed, yet the doors did not open. Instead, a sensation of acceleration beneath his feet: the elevator began to rise, but after only three seconds, the feeling faded.

Without the LCD numbers, the ascent felt endless, as though it might never stop. Still, Yuki kept counting his pulse, knowing in truth, not much time had passed.

Ding—

With a slight sense of weightlessness, the elevator halted. After a few seconds of stillness, the lights flickered back on, and the doors slid open with a rush.

Yuki stepped out into a dim corridor, lined on both sides with meeting rooms partitioned off by treated glass. All were dark, clearly unoccupied.

He glanced back at the elevator, whose doors were closing. Above them, on a bronze plaque, was the number 17.

He had been brought to the seventeenth floor.

But where was he?

Yuki stood for a moment, at a loss, surveying the darkness that stretched out empty before him.

Just then, from the far end of the hallway, came the heavy sound of a door being pulled open. A stark white light burst into the corridor, growing wider as the door swung open, gradually illuminating the entire hallway.

And in that doorway stood a figure.

Though far away and silhouetted against the light, Yuki couldn't make out the person's features, but he could see the figure beckoning him forward.

Steadying himself, Yuki stepped toward the light. The figure turned back inside, leaving the door open for him.

As he approached, Yuki could make out, by the light spilling from the room, the plaque above the door: "Office." To the right of the door, a transparent plastic frame held a sheet of white paper, with the superior officer’s name printed in the plainest font.

Yuki stopped at the doorway, glanced at the plaque, and felt a wave of relief, exhaling softly.

"Please forgive my discourtesy for disturbing you," he said, bowing formally at the threshold.

The officer, seeing Yuki frozen at the door, not daring to step inside and bowing so stiffly, found it somewhat amusing. Only moments ago, this was the young man who had knocked out a familiar officer with a single hand chop—he had expected someone brash, assertive, and self-willed.

With a chuckle, the officer beckoned Yuki inside again and motioned for him to close the door behind him.

Yuki quickly stepped in and closed the door.

It was a remarkably heavy door, unassuming on the outside but formidable in substance: soundproofed, and even fitted with bulletproof and riot-proof layers. Truly the door of a superior officer’s office.

Seeing Yuki close the door and remain by the entrance, not daring to move further, the officer—dressed in gray uniform—kindly pointed to the wall where a neat row of conference chairs, each with a small writing board, stood ready.

"Sit wherever you like. No need to be nervous."

Yuki took a seat as instructed, playing the part of the obedient student.

The officer smiled, picked up his porcelain cup, took a sip, and asked with a laugh, "Would you like something to drink... coffee?"