Killing was easy.
But the life of an assassin? That was another matter entirely.
This truth had long settled into Oda Sakunosuke's mind, especially after hearing the underground whispers about freelance killers betrayed by their employers—escaping prison to take revenge, only to perish alongside their prey. Yokohama was becoming a chaotic nest of crime: Japanese criminals, foreign intruders, cunning non-ability users, and devious ability-users. Most intelligence lost its value after three days, replaced by fresher, more urgent reports.
He understood the drawbacks of working without a network or an organization. Yet he disliked partners, loathed hierarchies, and refused to take orders. In that sense, he differed little from those dead killers—his path would inevitably end the same way.
So be it.
Apart from killing, he knew nothing else.
The red-haired boy sat in a small breakfast café, flipping through a novel he had been reading, sporadically, for more than half a month. The book was less than a hundred thousand words long, yet it took him this long to finish—not because he was busy, but because of certain… peculiar reasons.
For instance, he had finally understood how the heroine's toes in the story could somehow furnish a three-room apartment.
Because the plot was absurdly awkward like that.
A string of illogical scenarios challenged not just your sense of reality, but even your facial expressions: body-contouring swordplay that seemed to tease the reader, conversations mid free-fall, and an amateur-level assassin hero who, despite barely three years in the profession, rose to become the world's top killer by the age of twenty.
Oda Sakunosuke slowly turned the page.
"…."
He saw that the next chapter skipped over the "professional techniques" and had moved straight into the romance. A small relief washed over him.
The love scenes between the male and female leads were, by the standards of the novels he had read, written quite well.
Ah.
It's just that the bedroom scenes were a bit… excessive.
Turning the page, his tension spiked. The male protagonist was now relying on nothing but words—verbal duels—to unmask the enemy.
You're a killer, he thought. Why are you honing rhetoric skills?
Perhaps it was the familiarity of the book's cover that caught his eye. Immediately, a high schooler at the same breakfast shop, chatting with friends, glanced at him with bright, curious eyes, unable to resist asking about the book.
Oda Sakunosuke's gaze remained cold. He rarely gave opinions to strangers, but this time, he answered, almost reflexively.
"This is a heart-pounding novel."
Before opening the book, he hadn't realized his emotions could swing so wildly.
A vibration in his pocket hinted at a message from his employer. The last job's payment hadn't been fully discussed yet—surely, they wanted him to come over. He closed the novel, which he hadn't quite finished, feeling a subtle pang of regret—he would never know how the hero and heroine ended.
What kind of ending awaited a killer who didn't kill?
The world pressed in on all sides. The protagonist kept turning the odds against him, somehow surviving with uncanny luck. Wife, child, family, societal conflicts… the hero's refusal to kill was what let Oda keep reading, holding onto the story.
Occasionally, he caught glimpses of himself in the protagonist—strange little connections. The hero liked spicy food, secretly delighted when the heroine made chili rice, and the food descriptions were so vivid that one night, Oda found himself hungry just reading them.
He loved spicy food, and he accepted the hero's extravagant mannerisms alongside his reflections on life. The novel's world, though fantastical, was gentler than the harsh, jarring realities Oda faced.
The author was probably trying to teach a lesson: to live kindly, not to give up on life.
["Humans live for themselves." ]
["If you cannot find meaning in survival, live anyway—you may encounter it in the future. " ]
["Life is an autobiographical novel; whether it becomes brilliant or not depends entirely on oneself. As long as the glimmer of humanity has not disappeared, then no matter how awkward the story may feel, there will still be people willing to read it to the end."]
["Compared to a universally happy ending, I prefer self-redemption."]
["Spiciness is pain; it forces people to stay awake."]
["I like those cats very much. It's a pity they don't like me—fish jerky doesn't work either.
]
Oda Sakunosuke passed by a certain safehouse and, along the way, left the book—with a bookmark tucked inside—there for safekeeping. A thought drifted through his mind: "But I'm not a cat person, and I don't provoke cats into hating me."
Before setting out to meet his employer, Oda Sakunosuke stood in front of a stray cats' territory and watched for three seconds.
He confirmed it. He was not the kind of assassin whom cats instinctively despised.
It was all just coincidence.
How could there be someone in this world who attracted cats' hatred so easily? Even killing countless people shouldn't make that possible, right?
...
In the same city, under similarly familiar surroundings, Fukuzawa Yukichi walked through the streets and alleys with an expressionless face, surveying the environment of the city. He wore the attire of an old-era samurai—a full kimono—with no sword at his waist. Once detached from government service, he was a former assassin, previously renowned as the "Silver Wolf," one of the famed Five Swords.
Now, he was merely a bodyguard, usually taking on one-off protection jobs for old clients.
Outside of work, he often found himself thinking about what he ought to do next.
Was he going to continue like this forever…?
Passing by a low wall, Fukuzawa Yukichi noticed something. With a sharp swish, he swiftly produced a strip of dried fish from his kimono sleeve, his posture precise and practiced, attempting to lure a stray cat walking along the wall.
"Meow?"
The stray cat sniffed the scent of dried fish lingering in the air, halted its steps, and fixed its gaze on the silver-haired two-legged creature below.
Suddenly, as if it had seen something utterly repulsive, it chose flight without hesitation and vanished in an instant.
Fukuzawa Yukichi: "..."
The N + 1-th failed attempt at feeding a cat.
The silver-haired man's expression did not change. Accustomed to this outcome, he calmly put the dried fish away. He had once tried leaving the fish behind on the spot, only to discover later that once it was tainted with his scent… the cats would not touch it either.
What a painfully vivid memory, etched in experience.
Ring—ring—ring.
Hearing the ringtone, the silver-haired man, still expressionless, took his phone from his pocket and raised it to his ear. His opening line made no mention of his identity as a bodyguard, in case the call was yet another wrong number.
"Hello. This is Fukuzawa Yukichi."
A moment later, the normally aloof silver-haired man froze, as though he had just heard the worst possible news.
"Dead? The female president is dead?" His brows knit together; even the scarf around his neck could not soften the chill radiating from him, a cold so sharp it raised goosebumps on passersby.
The news he had received was this—one of his former clients, the female president of S&K Corporation, was dead.
Cause of death: a fatal fall from a building.
Not long ago, the company president had even asked whether he would consider becoming her long-term bodyguard.
Unfortunately… he had declined.
...
"I'm heading out now!"
After receiving the message about his interview, Edogawa Ranpo made thorough preparations and left the house brimming with confidence and enthusiasm.
In order to avoid failing the interview on appearance alone, he had gone out early in the morning to find Randou, asking him to help tie his necktie. As for why he did not ask Asou Akiya, the reason was simple: in his opinion, Randou tied ties far better—and made them look nicer.
"Do your best. If you pass the interview, lunch is on me," Asou Akiya said, habitually unfolding today's newspaper, the corner of his lips lifting into a smile. "If you don't make it, then Randou and I will go out for a one-day hot spring trip. Even though I can't soak in the hot springs while I'm recuperating, I really like eating hot spring eggs."
Randou stepped behind Akiya and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, speaking softly, "I like them too. Akiya can watch me soak in the hot springs. The yukata we bought last time wasn't comfortable enough—Akiya, help me choose another set."
The two of them practically radiated the cloying sweetness of unabashed affection.
The moment Edogawa Ranpo heard that they were planning to go on a hot spring trip, he shouted before leaving, "Don't even think about going without me!"
Randou let out a soft chuckle. "Hmph."
Asou Akiya stroked his chin. "So heartless. Randou really shouldn't have tied his tie for him."
Randou replied calmly, "I couldn't very well let him go out wearing a crooked, lopsided tie."
Asou Akiya took Randou's hand, warming his skin as he always did, and said, "What kind of yukata does Randou like? Let's go buy it early—we can set off in the morning."
Randou said with a troubled expression, "But what if Ranpo-kun comes back?"
Asou Akiya answered with complete confidence, "No one will give him an interview."
Randou made a soft sound of confusion—"Hm?"—and then turned his gaze to the newest newspaper in Asou Akiya's hand.
A breaking piece of news was printed across it.
["President of S&K Corporation Falls to Her Death Early This Morning; Cause of Death Unknown, Suspected to Be the Work of a Hired Killer."]
The female president was finished—done for.
And that very trading company was the place Edogawa Ranpo was supposed to go to today for his interview.
"How did you know in advance, Akiya?" Randou knew his lover was intelligent, but this time he was genuinely taken by surprise. During Asou Akiya's recuperation, he had barely gone out at all, and even when he did, Randou had accompanied him every step of the way.
The two of them had never once met the female president of S&K Corporation.
"I met her once before and investigated some related information," Asou Akiya said, calmly producing his explanation. "She was a very forceful, arrogant woman. Her secretary was a former prosecutor she'd poached straight from the courts. She always believed she had a keen eye for talent, that she had recognized his abilities and given him the opportunity to display them—yet she never realized that her secretary was not content to remain a secretary forever."
Without thinking, Randou blurted out, "He wanted to become the female president's lover?"
Asou Akiya: "Pfft—"
Realizing he'd said something wrong, Randou hurriedly urged him, "Don't laugh! Tell me the real reason."
Asou Akiya pinched Randou's cheek. It was smooth and delicate, the kind of skin that belonged to someone in the prime of youth. "The reason was ambition—ambition that hungered for wealth and power. Once he caught a glimpse of a wider world, it became impossible to rein it in. That in itself is only human nature. His real crime was repaying kindness with betrayal, using crude and despicable means. And besides the female president herself, the secretary was the only person qualified to temporarily take her place in conducting interviews and deciding whether to hire new staff to keep the company running."
Randou reasoned it out aloud, "So you were waiting for something to happen to the female president all along. Once she died, there was an overwhelming chance that the secretary was the true culprit. And when Ranpo-kun went to the interview, he would discover that the interviewer was dead, and that one of the only remaining interviewers was the murderer?"
Asou Akiya unlocked his phone and showed Randou the intelligence he had already sent to the Port Mafia.
Randou read it out slowly, word by word.
"From today onward, the Port Mafia may consider acquiring 'S&K Corporation.'"
"And the reason—"
Randou was quietly shaken.
"Is within twelve hours, the truth behind the murder will be exposed. The secretary is the killer. The company's stock will plummet. If funds are prepared in advance, the Port Mafia can reap the greatest possible profit in this round."
After finishing, Randou could only admit defeat to the two intellectual powerhouses in his household.
"You're playing Ranpo-kun like this—he's going to be angry, you know."
"It's not like that."
Before the curtain rose on the real spectacle, Asou Akiya shared the pleasure of spoilers with Randou, then closed his phone.
In a tone filled with the tender concern of someone worrying over a cat's physical and mental well-being, he said,
"I want him to grow."
For the sake of Ranpo's mental state, Asou Akiya had been unable to bring himself to force him through more than a dozen different jobs. As a result, Edogawa Ranpo's life experience was clearly far thinner than that of the working-class Ranpo in the original story. At this point in the original timeline, Ranpo's mind was already teetering on the brink of collapse—pitiful, truly—yet he had also gained a profound understanding of human stupidity and malice.
Either take a single decisive step, or endure repeated failure and suffering.
Between prolonged pain and brief pain, Asou Akiya chose the brief pain. Family was the best painkiller.
"I'm afraid that if he keeps staying by my side and never comes into contact with outsiders, it will eventually turn into another possibility… Once a white dumpling rolls into black sesame paste, it's very hard to ever make it white again…"
Half an hour later.
Beneath the sign of "S&K Corporation."
Standing on the asphalt road, Edogawa Ranpo stared blankly at the pool of blood on the ground, his face a picture of utter disbelief. A powerful typhoon had swept into Yokohama today, the fierce winds turning his hair into a chaotic chicken's nest. His carefully arranged appearance was completely ruined in an instant, and his miserable expression alone was enough to qualify him for a show called "Japan's Unluckiest Person of the Day."
"…Dead?"
"How could someone suddenly die?"
Madam President, I was still planning to cling to your coattails!
"No—there's still a chance. I have to find a way to pass the interview. A death case is something for adults and the police to worry about; it's not my objective for coming here today." Edogawa Ranpo moved to the entrance of the trading company. He had not yet stepped inside, but he was unwilling to admit defeat just like that—the bet also included an entire week of his allowance!
"No one gets to make my allowance disappear!"
Inside the company, panic had already spread. Employees whispered among themselves in anxious knots, and no one noticed Edogawa Ranpo rushing upstairs, making a beeline straight for the late president's office.
He needed to find the second-in-command, someone who could make decisions and help him settle his wager.
Generally speaking—
that person would be the secretary.
Edogawa Ranpo saw a room crammed full of documents, dizzying to the eye. He did not speak to announce himself. Instead, he narrowed his long, upturned eyes and took in the scene clearly: the window where the company president had met her end, and the secretary calmly sorting through files.
Three seconds later, Edogawa Ranpo's confidence collapsed by more than half, and tears nearly welled up in his eyes.
"It's over!"
There was simply no possibility of passing the interview!
The president was dead.
The secretary was the murderer.
The company would definitely suffer a severe blow in the short term and would definitely have to lay off staff!
That single cry of "It's over!" drew the attention of Fukuzawa Yukichi and the secretary. Fukuzawa Yukichi watched him warily, finding the boy's appearance strange and suspecting that he might be some brat who had come to demand payment from the now-deceased president.
"Who are you?"
"Me? You're asking me? I'm here to interview for the administrative intern position!"
Edogawa Ranpo was filled with indignation and grief.
The boy strode forward in great sweeping steps, trampling over all kinds of precious documents, prompting the secretary to shriek. Completely unconcerned, he pointed at the secretary and spoke rapidly, urgency spilling from his words. "Mr. Secretary, hurry up and find my job-seeking certification form, stamp it with your company seal—while you're still useful, there's still time! I beg you, please show a little mercy and let me pass the interview!"
The secretary exploded in rage. "The interview is canceled. You can leave! I don't have time to look for any certification for you!"
Edogawa Ranpo squatted down and let out a sound of utter despair.
"My lunch and dinner are both gone…"
His green eyes drifted toward the silver-haired man. The man's kimono looked understated, yet was clearly of great value. His bearing was calm and steady, and at a glance one could tell he came from a distinguished family, well-versed in countless martial skills, and possessed a compassionate heart toward the weak. He was the very image of a perfect bodyguard-type powerhouse: firm in his principles, like unyielding iron, a lone silver wolf walking his own path. Once he made a promise, he was the kind of man who would see it through to the end.
Akiya must have anticipated this scene—there had to be another arrangement in place!
Akiya wouldn't let him starve and drink nothing but cold wind!
All of a sudden, he caught hold of a sliver of hope. This man clearly met a certain crucial criterion.
"Silver-haired uncle."
"Are you the temporary meal ticket Akiya found for me?"
Thus began the first meeting between "bodyguard" Fukuzawa Yukichi and "job seeker" Edogawa Ranpo.