Chen Ke and Shen Yun left half an hour ago, at 2 a.m.
The luxurious hotel building still stood proudly on the streets of Shinjuku.
A white Honda sedan turned from the main road into the hotel's circular plaza and parked on the small path beside the fountain, from which a male and a female agent alighted.
The man was in his early forties, dressed in a blue suit with his jacket unbuttoned over a dark grey shirt. He tossed his cigarette onto the ground and stamped it out, his slick-backed hair shiny with oil.
The woman, just over thirty, had neatly cut short hair, was dressed in a white coat and a black miniskirt, and wore towering heels. She had just touched up her makeup in the car, her lips as rosy as cherries, bearing the strikingly beautiful look of someone of Eurasian heritage.
"Damn it... who calls to report a crime in the middle of the night... Don't they know our bureau doesn't pay overtime..." The man was very annoyed.
