Although Officer Shiratori came from a very wealthy family and owned a villa, he didn't live at home. Instead, he rented an apartment for himself.
Heiji appeared near a low-rise building and set up a long firearm—its profile resembling a sniper rifle.
At that moment, someone slipped into his line of sight. The corner of Heiji's mouth lifted slightly.
It was Ito.
Ito looked left and right. After spotting nothing unusual, he hopped onto the structure and started climbing.
His movements were smooth—practiced.
So he's a habitual thief.
Heiji smiled faintly. From a container at his side, cold air seeped out. He opened it to reveal two syringe-like cartridges nestled in ice.
He took one and loaded it into the rifle.
A tranquilizer gun.
What Heiji had brought wasn't a lethal weapon, but a tranquilizer setup.
He checked the time: 7:45.
The timing is about right.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Hello. This is Shiratori Ninzaburo."
Officer Shiratori was in a small shop nearby, sipping a little wine.
"If you go home now, you might find a surprise waiting for you. You have ten minutes. After that, the surprise will reveal itself."
"Who is this?" Shiratori demanded. "What do you want?"
But the line had already gone dead.
Officer Shiratori frowned and stared at the phone for a moment. Then his pupils tightened.
That killer?
He slapped a thousand yen on the table and bolted outside. His car was nearby, but he didn't take it.
Fortunately, it wasn't far to his apartment.
Five minutes later—
Heiji watched Officer Shiratori running toward the building. A sneer tugged at his mouth as he shifted slightly deeper into cover.
Officer Shiratori reached the area and stopped downstairs, scanning the surroundings.
Residential blocks—windows lit, the building alive with quiet evening routines—but nothing looked out of place.
Huh?
From his hidden corner, Heiji studied Shiratori's slightly flushed face and felt his thoughts shift.
He's been drinking.
He immediately put away the tranquilizer gun.
Then he descended from the roof, moving quickly.
"Who's there? Don't move!" Shiratori shouted.
The moment the roar echoed down the alleyway, Heiji quickened his pace.
Ito had just come out of Shiratori's apartment. He was already on the balcony rail, preparing to climb down, when the shout from below startled him so badly he nearly lost his grip.
Cold sweat poured down.
Sixth floor… if I fall, I'm dead.
He looked down—and his eyes widened. His expression hardened into instant hostility.
"So it's you," Ito growled. "You idiot cop—always showing up like a bad ghost."
"It's you?" Shiratori said sharply, looking up. Anger flared in his eyes. "Why are you climbing into my apartment?"
"I live here too," Ito said with a nasty smile. "Forgot my keys, so I climbed. What—are you accusing me of stealing? Look at your cheap taste. What would you even have worth stealing?"
Shiratori's face went cold. "Come down. Come down first, then we'll talk."
"You tell me to come down and I come down?" Ito scoffed. "What, so I can lose face?"
In the shadows, Heiji's smile deepened slightly.
So there's history between them. No wonder the system issued that mission.
"Come down," Shiratori repeated, his patience thinning—helped along by the alcohol.
"Idiot cop, get lost," Ito said, checking the time again, anxiety flickering beneath the bravado.
Shiratori's expression tightened. He yanked a pistol from his waist and pointed it upward.
"Come down!" he barked.
The onlookers peeking from windows paled. One by one, heads vanished behind curtains; windows shut; lights dimmed.
In seconds, the scene emptied.
"Go on," Ito taunted. "If you've got the guts—shoot."
He simply didn't believe the cop below would actually fire.
Shiratori's face turned rigid. The gun remained trained on Ito. A violent impulse rose in his chest; veins stood out along his neck.
He was furious.
And with alcohol in his system, anger came faster than usual.
Still—he was a police officer. He had self-control.
His hand twitched as if he were about to lower the weapon.
"What?" Ito jeered. "See? I knew you didn't dare. I—"
Bang!
The gunshot cracked through the night—sharp enough to make nearby residents recoil from their windows.
A split-second later came a heavy, dull impact—like a body hitting the ground.
Shiratori jerked around—
A shadow flashed behind him.
Pain exploded at the back of his head. His vision went black, and he collapsed.
Downstairs, Ito lay in a widening pool of blood, eyes blown open as if he'd seen something terrifying.
Outside the building, Shiratori lay facedown, the pistol still clenched in his hand.
Heiji's figure receded into darkness, idly turning a bullet between his fingers.
As he drove along the river embankment, he tossed a pistol out the window.
Splash.
It disappeared beneath the water.
Night deepened; the moon hovered above the treetops.
At the main gate of the Suzuki residence, two young women stood waiting, gazes fixed on the road ahead.
"Butler," Suzuki Tomoko asked, puzzled, "what are Kazuha and Sonoko doing out there?"
"Madam," the butler replied respectfully, "five minutes ago, Young Master Heiji called. Then Miss Sonoko and Miss Kazuha ran out in a hurry."
"And the dining table?" Tomoko asked.
Inside, an entire spread had been laid out.
"It was prepared by Miss Sonoko and Miss Kazuha," the butler said. "They said it's to help Young Master Heiji recover."
"Mom," Suzuki Ayako added with a soft laugh, "Sonoko won't let us touch it. She says we have to wait for Heiji to come back before anyone eats."
Suzuki Tomoko shook her head, half exasperated. "Husband… it looks like our daughter's heart has already gone elsewhere."
Suzuki Shiro chuckled. "That Heiji… I think he's quite impressive."
Just then, the sound of brakes came from outside.
Heiji walked in, with Kazuha and Sonoko flanking him on either side.
"Chairman Suzuki, Madam, Ayako—why aren't you eating?"
A full table, yet they were gathered in the living room instead.
Suzuki Ayako glanced toward Sonoko and smiled lightly. "That depends on Sonoko."
Sonoko immediately hooked her arm around Heiji's and shot Ayako a look. "Big Sister, Heiji just got discharged. Kazuha and I made all of that carefully for him. You're just benefiting from it."
Kazuha lowered her head quickly, cheeks flushing.
Heiji cleared his throat. "All right—let's eat."
He gave Sonoko a light pat on the hip in a familiar, helpless way, and she went stiff with embarrassment.
The night moved on—warm, loud, and full of food.
After showering, Heiji lay back quietly on the bed. From the bathroom came the sound of two girls laughing as they fussed around.
A while later, they stepped out wrapped in towels—one pink, one white—fresh from the steam, faces bright.
The moon outside drifted behind clouds, and the room slipped into a softer quiet.
That night, the house remained peaceful.
But elsewhere, the shockwave was already spreading through the Metropolitan Police Department.
MPD Assistant Inspector Shiratori Ninzaburo… killed someone.
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