The salaryman let out a pained wail, doubling over and clutching his legs as he trembled. "You… despicable punk!"
Kicking below the belt, gouging eyes, or striking the throat—such moves were shameless but effective. In any other setting, Shuichi Hayashi might've fought cleaner. But here, in a park teeming with kids, with the salaryman brandishing a dagger, speed was everything. A swift takedown meant no one else got hurt.
Besides, Shuichi wasn't a cop. No one could cry foul about him violating a thief's "rights."
Seizing the moment while the salaryman was incapacitated, Shuichi snatched the dagger and pinned the man's arms, forcing him to the ground. Glancing up, he caught sight of the glasses-wearing youth executing a flawless judo throw, sending the bald man crashing to the dirt.
"That glasses guy's awesome!" Miwako Sato clapped excitedly, then shot Shuichi a disdainful look. "Big brother, you're pathetic, using such a dirty move!"
If I wasn't protecting you kids, I wouldn't have had to, Shuichi thought, keeping his face blank and ignoring the cheeky girl.
With both thieves subdued, the police from the nearby box finally arrived, late as usual. "We're the police. What's going on here?"
"These two on the ground," Shuichi said, gesturing, "are likely behind the recent thefts in Mihama Town."
The string of over a dozen burglaries in less than three days had put the local police station and boxes under intense pressure. Hearing that the culprits were caught, the officers quickly cuffed the pair, ready to haul them to Mihama Station for questioning.
The glasses-wearing youth strolled over, eyeing the salaryman, still curled up like a shrimp. "You didn't hold back, did you?" he remarked.
"He pulled a dagger," Shuichi said, dusting off his hands. "One strike to end it, so no one else gets caught in the mess."
"You're a strange one," the youth said, tilting his head. "When you walked into the park, I pegged you for just another student."
"And now?" Shuichi asked, curiosity piqued. "What's your take on me?"
"The way you ordered me to help catch the thief—total confidence—and how you prioritized keeping bystanders safe? That screams someone with a government background, like a cop," the youth analyzed. "But your age doesn't add up. You're still in high school, right?"
"If it doesn't add up, then you got it wrong," Shuichi replied, keeping his expression neutral despite a jolt of unease. "I'm just a good-hearted student helping the police."
"Just a student?" The youth shook his head. "Emphasizing 'normal' only makes you sound less normal."
This guy's sharp, Shuichi thought, mildly annoyed. To avoid slipping up, he pivoted. "You've got some moves yourself. Judo training?"
"You're dodging the question, so I must be onto something," the youth said with a smug nod.
Shuichi's face darkened, ready to walk away. His transmigrator identity was safe—no one could guess that—but being probed like this was grating.
"Sorry," the youth said, bowing quickly. "Occupational hazard. I can't help overthinking things."
"Detective?" Shuichi asked casually.
"Nope," the youth shook his head. "I'm a writer."
Shuichi raised an eyebrow. A writer? With that kind of observation? "You're pulling my leg."
"I'm serious," the youth said, grinning. "I write detective novels. To make my characters feel real, I practice observation and deduction like this."
He reached into his pocket and handed Shuichi a business card.
Shuichi took it, and his eyes widened at the name.
"Hey, big brother, what's it say?" Miwako piped up, standing on tiptoes to peek at the card.
"You can read it?" Shuichi held it out for her.
"Ku… do…" Miwako sounded out slowly. "Yu… saku!"
"It's Yusaku Kudo," Shuichi corrected.
His mind reeled. The glasses-wearing youth was Yusaku Kudo—the future father of the detective world's grim reaper. No wonder his deductions were so sharp.
"Your reaction tells me you've heard of me," Yusaku said, smirking. "Am I right?"
"Yeah, that baron of yours is pretty famous," Shuichi said vaguely, playing it off.
"Night Baron," Yusaku corrected, his smile widening. "My latest book, and the one I'm proudest of so far. I've spilled enough about myself—your turn. Care to introduce yourself and prove my guess wrong?"
"You'll be disappointed," Shuichi said, deliberately emphasizing, "Shuichi Hayashi, ordinary first-year at Teitan High."
"You can double-check at Teitan if you don't buy it."
"A wrong guess now and then's no big deal," Yusaku said, unfazed. "Funny thing is, someone mentioned your name to me recently, Shuichi Hayashi. Didn't expect to run into you here."
"Didn't expect to meet a famous young writer either," Shuichi said, stretching lazily. "Thanks for the assist back there. I've gotta head back to cook."
"Hold up, Hayashi-kun," Yusaku said, stopping him. "I'm thinking of putting a character based on you in my next novel. Any objections?"
"Good guy? Go for it. Bad guy? Hard pass."
"I'll take that as a yes," Yusaku said, pulling a copy of Night Baron from his bag. He scribbled inside: To Hayashi-kun, who roped me into catching thieves. Signing his name, he handed it over. "Keep this. You might not be into it, but it's a memento."
"I'm actually a fan of detective novels," Shuichi said politely, tucking the book into his grocery bag.
Back at Eri's apartment, Shuichi found her still sound asleep in the guest room. He touched her forehead—much cooler than this morning.
"Fever's down. Good," he murmured, satisfied.
Heading to the kitchen, he started prepping lunch. For someone recovering from a cold, light but nutritious food was key to rebuilding strength. He'd bought a chicken at the supermarket, perfect for a hearty soup to help Eri bounce back.
As Shuichi busied himself in the kitchen, Eri stirred in the guest room, her eyes fluttering open groggily…
(End of Chapter)