Chapter 104: The Situation Takes a Sudden Turn for the Worse, Masahisa Mizumoto Is Stunned

Masahisa Mizuuchi, Chief of the General Affairs Division at the Tokyo District Public Prosecutors Office, had been in a fine mood for the past two days. Upon learning that Yuji Yamada had not come to work that morning, his mood improved even further.

He knew that the fellow, Yamada, must be panicking by now. As long as he failed to produce the photographs to satisfy Nobu Kurosawa, the brutal nature of the man meant Kurosawa would only grow more enraged, and he would certainly not let Yamada live.

Once Yamada was dead, Mizuuchi would find an opportunity to hand over the photos to Kurosawa himself. At that point, not only would a lateral move to the position of Chief of the Personnel Division be within reach, but even becoming a Deputy Chief of the Special Investigation Department was not entirely impossible.

The Special Investigation Department was the most powerful arm of the Tokyo District Public Prosecutors Office; in Japan, cases involving political figures were almost exclusively handled by this unit. It was a force that could rival the Public Prosecutors Office of South Korea.

"Ring-a-ling... Ring-a-ling..."

The sudden ringing of a telephone interrupted Mizuuchi’s fantasies. He picked it up casually. "Moshi moshi?"

"Mizuuchi-kun, this is Yuji Yamada."

"Oh, Yamada-kun, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Mizuuchi asked, feigning ignorance.

Yuji Yamada was currently at a Western-style restaurant across from the District Prosecutors Office, gazing at the office building as if he could see Mizuuchi himself. He spoke in a low voice: "I am at Henry’s Restaurant across from the office. I would like to invite you to lunch. I hope you will do me the honor."

"Since Yamada-kun is so kind as to invite me, of course I cannot refuse," Mizuuchi agreed with a chuckle.

"Then I shall await your arrival."

After hanging up, Mizuuchi’s expression became unpredictable. He could not fathom why Yamada would suddenly invite him to lunch at such a juncture. Did he know the photos were in his possession, or was it something else?

It was precisely because he couldn't figure out the other’s motive that he accepted the invitation—he wanted to see for himself.

Mizuuchi arrived at Henry’s Restaurant, gave Yamada’s name, and was led by a waiter to a corner table near a window, where he saw Yamada. The spot was quite secluded, shielded from the view of other patrons—an excellent place for a private conversation.

"Mizuuchi-kun, you’re here. Please, sit." Yamada stood up, bowed, and gestured for him to take a seat.

"Hai!" Mizuuchi bowed politely in return before sitting down. "I’m afraid I’m putting you to unnecessary expense, Yamada-kun. I shall treat you another time."

Though the two were at odds, they could not afford to be impolite in public; after all, etiquette was paramount.

"It’s just a casual meal between colleagues, Mizuuchi-kun. No need for such formality." As Yamada spoke, he handed over the menu. "I have already ordered. See what you would like."

"Hai!" Mizuuchi took the menu with both hands, looked it over for a while, ordered a steak, a soup, and a few appetizers, then handed the menu to the waiter. "Please, let’s start with these."

"Hai!" The waiter bowed and turned to leave.

"I remember dining here when I first joined the Tokyo District Public Prosecutors Office. In the blink of an eye, several years have passed, and yet this place remains unchanged," Yamada said with a touch of sentiment.

Mizuuchi nodded, seemingly lost in memory as well. "Indeed. Time flows on; some things are always changing, while others remain the same."

"Oh, that’s right, do you remember when we joined..." Yamada chatted away as if they were simply neighbors catching up.

Though Mizuuchi kept up his end of the conversation, he was growing impatient. He felt that Yamada was beating around the bush and refusing to get to the point. Once the food arrived, Yamada focused entirely on his meal, occasionally commenting on the flavor of the dishes. It seemed he had truly invited him for nothing more than a meal.

Mizuuchi cut off a piece of steak, put it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He could no longer restrain his impatience. "Did you invite me here just for a meal, Yamada-kun?"

"What else? Why? Is it forbidden to invite you to lunch?" Yamada asked with feigned surprise.

Mizuuchi stared at him blankly.

Yamada met his gaze with an open, calm expression.

Mizuuchi was thoroughly confused. Could it be that Yamada was trying to show goodwill? *Hah, it’s far too late for that.*

"Thank you for the hospitality, Yamada-kun, but I have matters to attend to, so I shall take my leave." Sensing that the man truly only wanted to have lunch, Mizuuchi felt no desire to continue. He put down his knife and fork and stood up to leave.

Watching Mizuuchi’s retreating back, Yamada slowly chewed his steak. Once Mizuuchi disappeared from sight, he looked at the set of bright, clean cutlery Mizuuchi had just used.

He then used a piece of paper to wrap the knife Mizuuchi had used and placed it into an evidence bag, replacing it with his own knife on the opposite side of the table. Having done this, he took out an identical, brand-new knife he had prepared in advance and continued his meal.

After finishing his steak at a leisurely pace, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and called out, "Check, please."

Once he had settled the bill and left, the waiter skillfully cleared both sets of cutlery—which now both showed signs of use—along with the dirty plates and took them to the back kitchen for cleaning.

...

"Ring-a-ling... Ring-a-ling..."

Less than half an hour after leaving the restaurant, and just as he had returned to his office, Mizuuchi’s mobile phone rang again.

"Moshi moshi, this is Masahisa Mizuuchi."

"Prosecutor Mizuuchi, it is I, Hiroshi Ito."

"Ah, Ito-kun. Why are you calling me so suddenly?" Mizuuchi asked with a stern tone.

"Prosecutor Mizuuchi, is it convenient for you to come out and meet? There are some things that can only be explained in person." Ito’s breathing was slightly labored as he spoke.

"Where are you now?" Mizuuchi immediately began to ponder. He suspected that Ito’s sudden, urgent request for a meeting might be linked to Yamada’s attempt to mend fences earlier.

"The Arakawa Minami-Senju Eishin Slaughterhouse." Ito gave the location and added with a trembling voice, "Please, Prosecutor, you must hurry!"

"Very well! I am on my way!" Mizuuchi hung up, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out.

Meanwhile, inside the slaughterhouse, Ito looked at Yamada with a face full of pleading. "I have done as you asked. Please, I beg you, do not harm my wife and children. They are innocent!"

"Rest assured, I am not in the habit of bullying women and children. You have served me for many years; I will not mistreat them." Yamada sighed with complex emotions.

Ito sniffled, tears streaming down his face. "Thank you, thank you, Prosecutor Yamada. It was my own greed that led me to betray you. I deserve to die ten thousand times over, but my children are still so young..."

"Enough!" Yamada roared in a flash of anger, cutting him off. Gritting his teeth, he demanded, "You have been with me for so many years; in your eyes, do I lack even that much integrity? I said I would not harm your wife and daughter, and I will not!"

Ito’s lips moved, but he remained silent.

About twenty or thirty minutes later, Kazushiro Yamakawa walked in quickly to report: "An Audi is driving toward us. It should be the person you invited, Prosecutor."

"Let's go. It is time to bring this farce to an end," Yamada said, looking at Ito.

Ito followed him out of the room and encountered Mizuuchi, who had just entered the slaughterhouse.

"Yuji Yamada!" Seeing Ito and Yamada together, Mizuuchi realized instantly that he had fallen into a trap. He turned to run, but as he looked back, he saw the main gate of the slaughterhouse being closed from the outside.

At the same time, Hideshin Aoyama emerged from an office with Ryoichi Fujimoto and Shinichi Nakamura.

The six of them were the only ones left in the massive slaughterhouse. It was so quiet that only the sound of the wind sweeping through could be heard.

Mizuuchi abandoned the thought of fleeing. A surge of intense unease made cold sweat pour down his back. He feigned composure and asked, "What is the meaning of this, Yamada-kun?"

"Masahisa Mizuuchi, hand over Mr. Kurosawa’s photos," Yamada said, getting straight to the point.

"Baka!" Mizuuchi couldn't help but curse, glaring at Ito. "You truly are a habitual traitor, aren't you? First you betrayed Yamada, and now, in the blink of an eye, you’ve betrayed me!"

Ito had no heart to defend himself, for he had listened to Hideshin Aoyama’s entire plan the night before and knew he had reached the end of his life. Furthermore, he was forced to accept this fate, as he still had to consider his young children.

As the saying goes, a man lives for himself before thirty, and entirely for his children after thirty.

Oh, you ask what about those who are still single at thirty? Well... let’s just say that’s quite an accomplishment.

"It seems you have no intention of handing them over, Mizuuchi," Yamada said, his eyes turning cold and ruthless.

Mizuuchi swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. "I don't believe you would dare to kill me!" He could not bring himself to believe the man would go that far.

"Of course I dare not kill you," Yamada said, shaking his head. Then, with an expressionless face, he took the knife from the evidence bag. Using the bag to cover the handle, he thrust it viciously into Ito’s throat.

"Ugh—hkk—hkk—"

Ito’s throat was pierced on the spot. He reached up instinctively to cover the wound, but his hands were drenched in scarlet blood. As Yamada released the handle, Ito’s body slumped backward and hit the ground with a thud, his legs twitching continuously as blood gushed from his neck.

Mizuuchi was paralyzed with terror, staring at the scene in utter disbelief. "Are you insane? You actually killed him! He was a prosecutor too!"

"No, *you* killed him," Yamada sneered, pointing to the knife still embedded in Ito’s throat. "The murder weapon bears only your fingerprints."

"Police! Masahisa Mizuuchi, raise your hands and get on the ground immediately! You are under suspicion of murder. Come with us to assist in the investigation!" Hideshin Aoyama drew his service pistol, pointed it at Mizuuchi, and shouted with righteous indignation.

Fujimoto and Nakamura charged forward, tackling the stunned Mizuuchi to the ground. They pinned him down from both sides, leaving him unable to move.

Mizuuchi finally came to his senses. He struggled violently, his eyes bloodshot, and roared at Yamada, "Baka! You damn bastard, you set me up!"

He finally understood why Yamada had invited him to lunch, and specifically for Western food—it was to ensure he would handle the knife and leave his fingerprints on it, so it could serve as the murder weapon.

"It wasn't me; it was Inspector Aoyama," Yamada said, turning to gesture toward Aoyama. He added with a note of relief, "Fortunately, he was involved in this, or I might truly have been the one you set up."

Mizuuchi whipped his head toward Aoyama.

He had always viewed Yamada as his only rival. He had never taken Aoyama seriously, seeing him merely as a poor soul with bad luck, destined to be a sacrifice in his plan against Yamada. He never dreamed he would be the one to fall at his hands.

Aoyama stepped forward and pressed a foot onto Mizuuchi’s head, forcing his face into the dirt. "You have only two choices now."

"One: Hand over the photos, and we will dispose of Ito’s body and the murder weapon."

"Two: Do not hand them over, and I will drag you back to the Metropolitan Police Department. With both human and physical evidence in hand, not only will your career be destroyed, but you will spend the rest of your life in prison."