Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Final Question (Fifth Update!)

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Fortunately, since the lockdown operation was still ongoing, Sozaburo Fukushima remained inside the Daiba building and hadn’t left, although his whereabouts were temporarily unknown. The Metropolitan Police Department’s special operations team immediately mobilized to search for this criminal suspect.

“Much appreciated, Uesugi-kun,” said the live broadcast team from Fuji Television, who had temporarily followed the special unit. The police felt a great relief. Inspector Higurashi approached Uesugi Muneyuki and shook his hand, sighing, “If it weren’t for you, I really don’t know what would have happened next.”

Yet, Uesugi Muneyuki’s mood was not good. He forced a smile and spoke softly, “Inspector Higurashi, I have a request that might be a bit much. Would you agree?”

“What kind of request?”

“After capturing Sozaburo Fukushima, may I ask him a few questions?” Uesugi clasped his hands together, pleading, “Just a few simple questions.”

“Well, that’s a bit irregular,” Inspector Higurashi replied wearily, patting Uesugi’s shoulder. “But it’s not against the rules. We’ll keep our distance so you can ask him directly. After all, you’re the forensic expert we invited to assist.”

“All right,” Uesugi’s facial muscles twitched involuntarily. He hung his head, looking quite unwell.

“Junior colleague, are you tired?” Mai Shirakawa extended her delicate, jade-like hands in front of him and tapped them twice with some force. “Ta-da! Want me to make you a boiled egg?”

Upon hearing this, the males around glared with red eyes.

This guy might be great at forensics, but honestly, he might as well just die!

Burn him!

Let the flames purify everything!

However, Uesugi’s spirits remained low. He waved his hand, indicating he wanted to use the restroom.

Finding a vacant restroom, Uesugi finally found the chance to awaken the restless spirit of the broadcaster Mariko Hironaka.

The extreme emotions of this twenty-eight-year-old anchor overwhelmed Uesugi’s mental defenses instantly. Her sorrow and grievance erupted like a violent storm, wild and tragic as a tsunami.

Though Mariko Hironaka wasn’t stunningly beautiful—comparable to Erena Ikeda but far less so than Mai Shirakawa—her anchor’s makeup and demeanor lent her an undeniable charm. She had a pair of elegant phoenix eyes (slightly uneven), long brown braids, stood just over 160 cm tall, with clear and generous features and a sweet smile.

Yet her soul was ablaze with anguish.

She felt utterly wronged! She couldn’t understand at all!

Why did Sozaburo Fukushima kill her? She simply did not comprehend!

She had resigned herself to leaving this world burdened with eternal confusion and grievance, but thankfully, Uesugi had awakened her. The moment she was roused, the surge of spiritual energy nearly overwhelmed Uesugi.

No wonder the cute and beloved Kyubey from “Puella Magi Madoka Magica” believed human emotional energy could stave off cosmic heat death. Uesugi had now experienced it firsthand. Despite having seen many corpses, the spiritual power bursting from Mariko Hironaka’s soul was at least ten times greater than others.

“Why why why? Why why why why why ahhh!” she wailed.

“Ms. Hironaka, please calm down!” Uesugi hurriedly soothed her. “What exactly happened? Why would Sozaburo Fukushima kill you?”

“How the hell should I know?!” Mariko tightly covered her head, though her spectral form no longer changed her hairstyle, so no matter how much she scratched, it remained intact. “Waaah, I really… waaah!”

From her recounting, Uesugi finally understood the full story.

Fuji Television, like other large companies, divided employees into regular staff and dispatched workers. Regular staff, like Mariko Hironaka, had formal lifetime employment contracts; dispatched workers came through temp agencies.

Japanese law stipulated that if a dispatched worker’s contract was renewed, they were considered regular employees. To avoid this, Fuji Television never renewed temp contracts, usually signing them for five years, then holding farewell parties and replacing the group.

Sozaburo Fukushima was such a temp worker. In his thirties, plain-looking and from the countryside, he was naturally insecure. According to Mariko, he particularly loved his job at Fuji Television, working passionately and diligently, greeting loudly every morning, often volunteering for overtime. Everyone at Fuji, from top to bottom, liked him. President Kameyama even said among this batch of temps, Fukushima was the best, hinting at a possible regularization.

Fukushima worked even harder.

Mariko admired him and occasionally greeted him, exchanging a few encouraging words; their relationship was harmonious.

“Then why would he kill you if you got along so well?” Uesugi asked puzzled.

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“I don’t know either!!!” Mariko’s face twisted painfully as she continued.

Due to the soul contract, she could not lie. She revealed that her private life was not clean; she had had one-night stands with several executives, including President Kameyama, and had even tried dating a member of a nationally famous idol group managed by Johnny’s Entertainment. She maintained an on-and-off affair with Kameyama, which helped her secure the entertainment news anchor position.

Pillow business, huh? Fine.

Uesugi silently cursed, thinking no wonder his father disliked women in the entertainment industry. Except for senior Mai Shirakawa, who had high social status and connections, most women seeking to climb the ladder engaged in some degree of such dealings.

And in Japan, most often willingly, not passively.

“A few days ago, during a company gathering with President Kameyama,” Mariko said, “I brought up Mr. Fukushima’s situation.”

“The president said the quality of this batch of temps was too poor, and he intended to find an excuse to dismiss all of them.”

“I asked, ‘What about Mr. Fukushima?’”

“He replied, ‘Of course none will be kept. There’s no such thing as a temp becoming regular. If Fukushima were made regular, what would the others think? And the regular employees who passed exams?’ He was just talking casually.”

Mariko expressed her distress over this. As a beneficiary, her reason told her the president was right, but her feelings told her his actions were unfair.

She could no longer face Fukushima’s energetic “Good morning” and hardworking figure each day.

“Of course, in your eyes, Mr. Fukushima was already a temporary worker with no future.” Uesugi still didn’t understand. “So why? Did you tell him?”

“I was getting married, remember?” Mariko’s resentment peaked. “The wedding was Monday, followed by a honeymoon. I wanted at least the last day to be peaceful…”

Mariko said that as she was preparing to leave work, she encountered Fukushima working hard. Thinking of her upcoming marriage and the impending dismissal of the temps, she felt sorry and suggested they talk.

They went to an underground area, and Mariko gently told Fukushima that Fuji Television planned to dismiss their group, and naturally, Fukushima was on the list.

Unexpectedly, Fukushima lost control upon hearing this and attacked Mariko without explanation, killing her.

Mariko never understood why this diligent, honest country-born temp suddenly had such a violent outburst.

“How exactly did you tell him?” Uesugi pondered a possibility.

“I simply told him it was impossible to become regular, and the station planned to dismiss him. Also, I said I was about to get married and probably wouldn’t see him again.”

Uesugi’s vision swirled as his father’s words echoed in his mind:

“For the lower strata of society, we should generally maintain concern and sympathy, but personally, we must always stay vigilant and keep our distance.”

He began to suspect a possibility.

Obviously, to fulfill the soul contract, Uesugi had to grant Mariko’s wish: to understand why such a good person suddenly became a murderer.

“Why is it taking so long?”

Washing his hands, Uesugi emerged from the restroom and saw Erena Ikeda still waiting at the door. Noticing his troubled expression, Erena asked with concern, “Are you feeling unwell?”

“How is the situation outside?” Uesugi didn’t directly answer her question.

“Outside…” Erena hesitated. Uesugi had been inside for fifteen minutes while she waited outside without a radio, completely unaware of the current status.

She realized that after leaving Uesugi, she didn’t know what to do.

“This female cop’s head looks bigger than her head!” Mariko’s lingering spirit suddenly muttered bitterly.

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Uesugi’s facial muscles twitched uncontrollably as he nearly laughed out loud.

Erena Ikeda saw his expression and thought he was mocking her incompetence. She felt a little wronged; it wasn’t that she didn’t want to help, but the Metropolitan Police Department staff avoided her and naturally didn’t share information or radios.

Fortunately, someone arrived to relieve Erena.

“The surveillance team has roughly located Sozaburo Fukushima. Thank you, Uesugi-san.”

A beautiful female officer, seemingly no older than twenty, appeared before him. Her silky black hair fell casually over her shoulders, framing a cute, innocent apple-shaped face with delicate white skin. Her bright, clear eyes shone like autumn, a high, elegant nose sat beneath a pair of alluring red lips, and her slender neck glimmered faintly with a pearl-like sheen.

She wore the standard deep blue autumn uniform for female Metropolitan Police clerks: a fitted jacket and skirt. Her well-proportioned bosom subtly stood beneath the fabric, her slender waist soft and supple. The simple pencil skirt hugged her full, rounded hips, emphasizing her shapely figure. Though clearly smaller than Erena’s frame, her proportions were remarkably refined.

Her long legs were clad in standard Atsugi 40 denier commuter pantyhose, the thin layer outlining her shapely, sensual legs. Her smooth calves were slender yet firm, the flesh-toned hosiery gleaming temptingly.

On her feet were a pair of black, five-centimeter standard uniform heels—not the ultra-thin stiletto type but practical for walking—perfectly matching her roughly 160 cm height. Her feet were smooth and tender, distinctly bony.

At the ankles, the pantyhose gathered into fine wrinkles like a silk ribbon tied around her beautiful legs. Her toes were neatly together; Uesugi estimated her shoe size at 33.

He was as confident in estimating shoe sizes as he was in conducting autopsies.

The officer ignored Erena completely. She stood with feet together, hands at her sides, bowed fifteen degrees, and smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you. I am Minami Watanabe, section chief of the Personnel Department, Police Affairs Division of the Metropolitan Police Department, rank Inspector. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Uesugi Muneyuki. Please take care of me.”

“Not our first meeting,” Uesugi glanced at her and responded with a bow, “Not a first meeting.”

“Not expecting your guidance either,” the police beauty smiled, their eyes meeting with mutual recognition.

An unspoken understanding rippled silently between them.

“Now that introductions are over, please allow me to thank you again, Uesugi-kun,” Minami bowed deeply, hands clasped in front, bending forty-five degrees. “I represent the entire Metropolitan Police Department, and my father, in expressing our gratitude for your generous assistance.”

“It was nothing. Since we encountered such an incident, the family cannot stand aside. After all, wisdom lies in the collective, as the saying goes—three ordinary minds together are as good as Zhuge Liang,” Uesugi accepted her thanks calmly.

“To receive your help is like a demon acquiring a golden cudgel—extra power,” Minami returned with a proverb. “Better for a poor man to light one lamp than an elder to light ten thousand. I shall never forget your aid, Uesugi-kun.”

“Such a perfectly executed bow and respectful greeting. She must be from a noble family, a true lady,” Mariko’s spirit commented. “So pretty. If only these two could combine—this face with that figure—we’d have Mai Shirakawa.”

Mariko, having died, no longer bothered to pretend.

Uesugi thought wryly.

“So what’s the situation now?” Uesugi asked, seeking the latest.

“Several teams have been dispatched to search,” Minami nodded but looked troubled. “However… many are willing to vouch for Sozaburo Fukushima, saying he’s not that sort of man. He’s warm, diligent, kind, and honest. No one believes he could be the culprit. Also, Mariko Hironaka seemed to have a good relationship with him, and there are eyewitnesses willing to testify.”

“Yes, if what Ms. Watanabe says is true, no matter the suspicion, it wouldn’t fall on him. Yet the surveillance footage and evidence found are not fabricated,” Uesugi said, hands on hips, brow furrowed. “That’s the final mystery of this case.”

“Why did he suddenly kill?”

“Exactly. Why?” Minami’s bright eyes sparkled. “I’m counting on you to use your forensic skills to solve this for us, Mr. Uesugi.”

“It’s not forensic science exactly,” Uesugi blinked.

Both laughed knowingly.

The early dawn had come to an end. Exhausted, Uesugi planned to post some closing remarks later.