Chapter 25: Is This Investigating a Case or Committing a Crime?

Back in the car, Shunobu Aoyama opened the suitcase and checked the contents: a total of thirty million yen in bonds.

Matsuo Noguchi was indeed generous—willing to spend so much for a mere deputy director like him.

This was the second fortune Shunobu Aoyama had earned through his own hard work since crossing over, and the sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. It was far safer than making money as a hitman in his previous life, which was a crooked path. Clearly, the righteous way was best.

What’s that?

You say this is bribery?

Don't be so quick to judge. He was merely reclaiming the money that the old Empress had sent out years ago, by another means.

Just this little bit—not even enough for the interest.

Setting the suitcase aside, Shunobu Aoyama started the car and dialed Ryoi Fujimoto.

“Ryoi, it’s settled on my end. Have you arranged everything? Make sure the people you found are reliable!”

“Shunobu-san, rest assured. The people I found are trustworthy. Everything will go according to plan.”

Meanwhile, just after Shunobu Aoyama left, Matsuo Noguchi could no longer suppress his irritation and rage, overturning the desk in front of him. “Idiot!”

His foolish little brother.

But the man was already dead. Even if Matsuo Noguchi wanted to vent, he was left with no target. He couldn't very well desecrate the corpse.

After several heavy breaths, he steadied himself, sat down again, and picked up the phone to call Junichi Matsushita. When the line connected, Noguchi spoke in a low voice before the other could answer: “The police are watching you. The investigation will begin soon. Pack up and leave today.”

“Is it really that serious?” Junichi Matsushita, who was having breakfast with his family, was stunned by the news. He glanced at his lovely daughter and gentle wife, then went upstairs to his study with the phone. “The police might not find any evidence.”

“Idiot!” Noguchi, already in a foul mood, couldn't help but curse, but then forced himself to calm down and advise, “Junichi, you need to understand one thing. Gamblers in our casino lose because they always bet on that one-in-ten-thousand chance.”

It’s why they lose.

Wasn’t it because we rigged the games in the casino?

Junichi Matsushita grumbled silently, but even over the phone he could sense Noguchi’s barely contained fury and dared not question further. He only asked anxiously, “What about my wife and daughter?”

“You leave first. Once you’re gone, the police can’t use your wife and daughter to threaten you—they’re government officials, not a crime syndicate.” Noguchi reassured him, then continued: “Besides, I’m here. As soon as you’re safe and settled abroad, I’ll help your wife and daughter reunite with you.”

“Understood! Then, I’ll leave everything to you, Chairman!” Junichi Matsushita replied, then added, “I’ll prepare and leave tonight.”

“Do you need help?” Noguchi asked.

Junichi Matsushita answered, “No need. The police aren’t onto me just yet. I’ll use a fake identity to fly out, spend a few days in Korea to see how things go, and then decide if I should move on to Europe.”

Japan and Korea are close, and their gangs do business together. When criminals get in trouble in one country, they often flee to the other, where local gangs provide shelter for those laying low.

“Safe travels, Junichi. Call me when you land.” Noguchi hung up.

…………………………

Soon it was 10 p.m.

Junichi Matsushita, claiming a business trip, bade farewell to his wife and daughter. With a fake passport and luggage, he drove away, forcing himself not to show his reluctance as his family watched him leave.

But he didn’t notice that once his car exited the neighborhood and merged onto the main road, a white Honda sedan began following him at a steady pace.

Junichi Matsushita’s destination was Narita International Airport in Narita City, Chiba Prefecture—Japan’s largest international airport, handling mainly overseas flights.

Narita Airport is about seventy kilometers from Tokyo. Before entering Narita City, there’s a sparsely populated stretch of road. As Junichi Matsushita saw fewer and fewer cars on the road, a vague unease crept into his heart.

Especially the white Honda behind him, which seemed to have followed him since leaving the city. Just as he started to suspect something, the white Honda suddenly sped up and overtook him.

Whew—must be a coincidence.

He had barely relaxed when, in the next instant, something unexpected happened. The white Honda that had overtaken him abruptly braked right in front of his car. Startled, Junichi Matsushita instinctively slammed on his own brakes, and with a screech of tires, the two cars collided with a heavy crash.

The force of the impact hurled Junichi Matsushita forward, his face smashing into the steering wheel, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

In a fog, he saw two masked men step out of the Honda, both wearing gloves—one with a rope, the other a knife.

A thousand thoughts flashed through Junichi Matsushita’s mind. Driven by desperate survival instinct, he locked the car doors and shouted in panic, “Who sent you? Don’t kill me—I can pay you!”

Bang! Bang!

The two assassins said nothing, kicking at the door. When it wouldn’t open, one slammed his elbow into the window, shattering the glass.

Shards of glass cascaded everywhere.

“Ahhh!” Junichi Matsushita was filled with despair, grabbing his bag and swinging it wildly, screaming in terror, “Is it Matsuo Noguchi? Is he trying to kill me? Let me talk to him! Ah!”

In the chaos, his arm was slashed, and he cried out in agony, his features contorted by pain.

“The Chairman heard the police have already set up at the airport. You won’t get away. We’re here to send you off. Don’t worry, your wife and daughter will be well provided for,” one killer rasped, then continued stabbing.

“Ah!” Another knife pierced the back of Junichi Matsushita’s hand, the pain and terror triggering a surge of fury. “Damn you, Matsuo Noguchi! I won’t forgive you, even in death!”

Suddenly, the faint sound of police sirens reached them.

The night was lit by red and blue flashing lights—the only beacon in the darkness!

Hearing the police sirens he used to hate, Junichi Matsushita now felt as if he heard celestial music, his heart surging with joy as he cried out, “Help me! Please, save me!”

“Police! Listen up, those ahead! Drop your weapons and cease your crime!” crackled a warning over the loudspeaker atop the police car.

“Damn! Retreat!”

The two assassins cursed, and seeing the police car drawing closer, they turned and fled.

Breathless and drained, Junichi Matsushita slumped in his seat, gasping for air, sweat dripping like beans from his face.

The police car, lights flashing and sirens blaring, stopped beside his vehicle. Shunobu Aoyama and Shinichi Nakamura got out, shining a flashlight inside. “It’s Junichi Matsushita! Get him to the hospital immediately!”

“Yes, sir!” Shinichi Nakamura played his part.

Tonight’s operation had given Shinichi Nakamura quite a shock. Deputy Director Aoyama wasn’t investigating a case—he was orchestrating one!

But he was equally thrilled.

Because Shunobu Aoyama had included only him in the operation.