Chapter 72: Deputy Minister Aoyama Is Too Kind-Hearted and Will Suffer for It (Please Vote! Please Subscribe!)

Jincheng Heiji arrived at Hattori’s office.

He first reported the case, then proactively offered his advice: “Chief Inspector, Aoyama Hidenobu is so arrogant, insisting on handling this case alone—this is simply a heaven-sent opportunity. We can use this to get rid of him.”

“Oh?” Hattori gestured for him to continue.

Jincheng Heiji smiled faintly. “All you need to do is show how important this case is to you, and order him to solve it within a set time. If he fails to deliver results by the deadline, wouldn’t it be perfectly reasonable to kick this disgrace out?”

“Inspector Jincheng,” Hattori’s expression darkened, and he spoke sternly. “I don’t like Aoyama Hidenobu either, and I do want to get rid of him—but only if we find evidence of his wrongdoing, not by tripping him up when he’s carrying out his proper duties!”

“He’s investigating a case now, fulfilling his responsibilities with dedication. Undermining him would be irresponsible to the public and to our work! I told you to monitor him in order to catch any illegal activity, not to frame him. Don’t ever bring up such ideas again.”

“Yes, sir!” Jincheng Heiji was utterly unprepared for this scolding. Embarrassed, his face turned pale and he quickly lowered his head to apologize.

Inwardly, however, he was annoyed, thinking Hattori was making a fuss over nothing—trying to play the saint after acting the sinner.

It seemed that if he wanted Hattori to act against Aoyama Hidenobu, he would first have to manufacture evidence of Aoyama’s wrongdoing.

Jincheng Heiji resolved to change his strategy.

About ten minutes later, Aoyama Hidenobu and Sakai Yoshimasa met the informant in the hospital ward.

She was around twenty years old, attractive, still shaken by the trauma, her face pale.

“Hello, we’re detectives from the First Division of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, Homicide Section.” Sakai Yoshimasa presented his badge and then gestured to Aoyama Hidenobu. “This is Inspector Aoyama. He has a few questions for you.”

“Yes,” the woman replied cautiously.

Sakai Yoshimasa brought over a chair for her.

“No need to be too nervous.” Aoyama Hidenobu sat down and smiled gently at her. “What’s your name?”

“Aso Ayaka.”

“All right, Miss Aso, were you close with Mikami Masako?” Aoyama Hidenobu asked.

Sakai Yoshimasa took diligent notes at the side.

Aso Ayaka nodded, sniffled, and answered with a choked voice, “Yes, we’re from the same hometown and work together. She’s my best friend in Tokyo.”

“Did she have a boyfriend? Or any close male acquaintances?” Aoyama Hidenobu continued.

“No… no.” Aso Ayaka shook her head without hesitation, tears streaming down as she spoke in a trembling voice. “Her brother is still in school, her father is addicted to gambling and owes a lot of money, her mother’s health is poor, and she supports the entire family. She’s always focused on earning money and lives frugally, with neither the time nor resources for a boyfriend. She’s been single since I met her.”

A classic tale: a gambling father, a brother in school, a sick mother, and a shattered daughter…

“My condolences.” Aoyama Hidenobu tore a few tissues from the bedside and handed them to her. “When did you last see her? Did she behave unusually?”

“Th—thank you.” Aso Ayaka took the tissues and wiped her tears, sobbing. “It was the night before last at work. Nothing seemed unusual. She’s always been cheerful. She was supposed to work last night too, but she didn’t show up. I called, but she didn’t answer. This morning I came to her place, and… oh, oh…”

Her words broke off as she bowed her head and cried in anguish, her face streaked with tears when she looked up. “Inspector Aoyama, please, please catch the killer. I know people like us are worthless, but… but I can’t bear to see her die in vain, and so horribly.”

“Miss Aso, please calm yourself. In the Metropolitan Police, every victim is equal—there’s no distinction between the value of one life and another,” Aoyama Hidenobu replied, uttering the official line. Seeing her sobbing uncontrollably, he realized the questioning could not continue. “We’ll take our leave now. If you remember anything, please contact me.”

He placed a business card on the nightstand.

In Japan, anyone with a proper job has a business card; when meeting someone, the card is offered first.

Japanese etiquette is strict—address, tone, and even bowing angle varies based on age and status. Offering a business card is a way to inform the other party of one’s social position and how to treat them.

Aoyama Hidenobu’s opinion of all this: nonsense.

“Deputy Chief, we didn’t get anything useful from Aso Ayaka. How should we proceed?” Sakai Yoshimasa asked as they left the ward.

Aoyama Hidenobu glanced at him. “Clearly, you’ve forgotten what I said—I already have a handle on this case. You needn’t worry about the rest.”

“Yes, sir!” Sakai Yoshimasa was confused and curious, but dared not press further.

“Ding—”

Just then, the elevator arrived. The doors opened and a group of medical staff wheeled out a bed. On it lay a young man, his eyes closed, his body connected to countless devices.

It was Yamamoto Naoto.

Beside him, Mrs. Yamamoto was close to fainting from her tears.

“What happened?” As a model policeman, Aoyama Hidenobu quickly expressed his concern.

A nurse glanced up, and, seeing how handsome he was, eagerly satisfied his curiosity. “He was run over by a refrigerated truck—his lower body was crushed. The scene was… well, gruesome.”

Only medical staff could speak so calmly about such horror.

An ordinary person would feel sick just imagining it.

“I see. That’s terrible.” Aoyama Hidenobu shook his head and looked at Mrs. Yamamoto. “My condolences.”

He was, after all, kind-hearted.

He couldn’t bear to witness such human tragedy.

So he chose not to look, and entered the elevator.

“Shut up! My son isn’t dead yet, what’s there to mourn?” Mrs. Yamamoto screamed sharply.

Aoyama Hidenobu turned with a smile. “If that’s your attitude, I’d say his time is almost up.”

As his words faded, the elevator doors closed.

Mrs. Yamamoto was left pale with fright, wanting to say more, but the doors had already shut. She could only walk away, lost and distraught, supporting her son’s bed.

Aoyama Hidenobu pressed the button for the twelfth floor. “You go back to headquarters. I have an old subordinate hospitalized here—since I’m here, I’ll pay him a visit.”

Tanaka Norifumi was also being treated at this hospital.

“Yes, sir!” Sakai Yoshimasa bowed. He stole a glance at Aoyama Hidenobu, full of admiration.

He had heard the rumors of Aoyama Hidenobu being stabbed in the back—and now saw that the Deputy Chief not only didn’t retaliate against Tanaka Norifumi, but even visited him after his accident. What magnanimity!

He thought Deputy Chief Aoyama was simply too kind and merciful—otherwise, he wouldn’t have been betrayed by so many subordinates. It was a virtue, but sometimes also a flaw.

Aoyama Hidenobu was also quite upright; just today, he had openly clashed with Jincheng Heiji without scheming.

Sakai Yoshimasa worried for him and couldn’t help but say, “Deputy Chief, you must be careful of Jincheng Heiji. He’s always resented your appointment from outside, and he’s very devious. Someone as kind and honest as you could easily fall victim to his schemes.”

“Don’t worry. Evil never triumphs over good,” Aoyama Hidenobu replied, righteous and serene.

Originally, Aoyama Hidenobu had felt his actions since crossing over were rather ruthless, but to others, he was still a good man. That settled it.

This meant all those opposing him were villains!

So he could be as ruthless as he liked with them.

“Ding—”

The twelfth floor arrived. Aoyama Hidenobu stepped out.

He entered Tanaka Norifumi’s ward; it was mealtime. Tanaka Naoko was eating inside, her gaze flitting to her husband, full of tenderness and helplessness.

“Ah! Aoyama—Aoyama-kun!” Seeing Aoyama Hidenobu arrive, Tanaka Naoko exclaimed, setting down her bowl and chopsticks, not knowing what to do with her hands.

Aoyama Hidenobu casually locked the door and walked to the bedside. “Tanaka-kun, I’ve come to see you again.”

There weren’t many superiors as loyal as him.

“Aoyama-kun, please sit,” Tanaka Naoko said with grace and politeness. Though she didn’t want to, she moved a chair behind Aoyama Hidenobu.

“Thank you, madam.” Aoyama Hidenobu smiled politely, but as soon as he sat, he rudely pulled her into his arms. “Madam, you look even more beautiful today.”

A flower needs nurturing to grow more lovely.

That was why he liked to tease people’s faces.

“No… not at all,” Tanaka Naoko answered shyly, sitting on his lap with her head bowed, her body tense, hardly daring to move, her breathing growing heavier.

Aoyama Hidenobu turned her around,

so she straddled his lap, facing him.

Tanaka Naoko’s face beneath her nurse’s cap was already flushed, her ears pink, her head bowed, unable to meet his gaze, her hands gripping her skirt tightly.

She could almost hear her own heartbeat pounding.

Her feet nervously crossed and rubbed together.

Suddenly, her white shoes slipped off.

Her feet, like jade, wrapped in immaculate white stockings—the delicate fabric clinging like a second skin, tracing every curve from ankle to thigh. Her five elegant toes beneath the thin silk appeared slender yet full, like pearls set in soft white gauze.

The jailer is here, but where is the warden?

“Madam, why are you still so shy?” Aoyama Hidenobu toyed with her, lifting her smooth chin. “Am I the impressive one, or is Tanaka-kun?”

Tanaka Naoko was forced to raise her head; her almond eyes were misty, filled with shame and anger. She looked away, voice trembling. “Aoyama-kun, please don’t ask such embarrassing questions.”

“That must mean it’s me, since you so refuse to answer.” Aoyama Hidenobu laughed.

“Ooh—” Tanaka Naoko closed her eyes in mortified shame, a few tears slipping from the corners, full of guilt and remorse. Oh, I am such a bad woman.

Aoyama Hidenobu loosened her clothing.

Tanaka Naoko, shy and helpless, could only try to cooperate, hoping it would end quickly, so she could be freed sooner.

…………………………

Time quickly moved to the next day.

May 26th, clear weather.

Watanabe Shu had not slept all night.

Early the next morning, he rose with dark circles under his eyes and headed to the police station. Once there, he locked himself in his office, staring at the phone.

“Ring ring—ring ring—”

Finally, the phone on his desk rang.

Startled, Watanabe Shu took a deep breath and picked up.

“Moshi moshi, this is Watanabe.”

“The money—is it ready?”

“Two hundred million in cash is too much—I couldn’t raise it overnight. I only have one hundred million.” Watanabe Shu knew saying this would make his words more believable.

And based on his knowledge of such criminals,

even with only one hundred million,

they would take it first, since with those photos in hand, they could keep extorting him indefinitely.