Chapter Fifteen: Why Does an Urban Legend Need a Submachine Gun?

“What a joke! Over thirty people killed at once?”

“Many of these victims have calluses from frequent firearms practice. There are plenty of handguns nearby, and even two submachine guns with empty magazines... What’s the story with the one who was killed by a knife?”

Jin Saburo Shiratori, the senior inspector of the Metropolitan Police Department’s First Investigation Division, Third Violent Crimes Unit, felt his vision darken at that moment.

This situation was unprecedented—what did it mean for dozens to die in a single gunfight in modern society?

What did it mean for Kensan Masuyama, chairman of the automobile company and a famous business tycoon, to be found dead right outside his own company?

Once this news spread, it wouldn’t just shake the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, but all of Japan!

If this was mishandled, it would undoubtedly make international headlines. Looking back, he wished he had brought Inspector Megure, who had just returned from Otowatari, along with him this time.

Jin Saburo Shiratori felt his future growing bleak.

The man was too insignificant, and the burden far too heavy—he was barely holding on.

A nearby officer, seeing Shiratori’s hopeless expression, couldn’t help but speak gently.

“Inspector Shiratori, there’s one more thing I need to report regarding this massive shooting incident...”

Shiratori’s face darkened even further.

But he didn’t refuse to listen. After all, the burden was already immense. A bit more bad news wouldn’t make much difference.

He had witnessed all manner of strange and bizarre events that night; nothing could surprise him now. He sighed deeply and said weakly,

“Go ahead. Whatever the news is, just tell me. I can handle it.”

“...According to the testimonies of the wounded shooters at the scene, the perpetrator is the urban legend of Mihana Town—that one known as ‘Half-human, half-demon, the Sharpshooter Supreme.’”

The officer wiped the sweat from his brow and continued.

“Oh.”

Shiratori responded briefly.

This was hardly surprising. Such a heinous crime could only be the work of that urban legend, just like the massive serial killings on Tsukikage Island before; who else but that urban legend could pull off something like this?

“According to the testimonies, that urban legend used a submachine gun to attack them...”

The officer went on.

“Hmm.”

Shiratori nodded.

Did he really need to be told? That submachine gun was clearly meant for those shooters; others might not even know how to use such a weapon properly.

“And there were three submachine guns at the scene in total. We only found two with empty magazines...”

Shiratori: ?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

The newly appointed inspector of the Metropolitan Police Department’s First Investigation Division, Third Violent Crimes Unit suddenly straightened up, shocked as if struck by a bolt from the blue.

“What did you say? That urban legend still has one fully loaded submachine gun?!”

Jin Saburo Shiratori shouted.

“Why would an urban legend need a submachine gun?”

...Obviously to kill people. Otherwise, what else would it be for?

The officer privately thought but remained silent, waiting for Shiratori’s orders.

Seeing the officer’s calm and unmoving demeanor, Shiratori was utterly speechless.

If given the chance, he would have let Inspector Megure handle this incident.

He had barely been promoted to inspector, and now it seemed he might be forced out of the system altogether.

“Sigh, fine. I get it. Go gather the evidence.”

Shiratori waved his hand, signaling the officer to proceed.

The officer immediately ran off as if freed from a heavy burden, unwilling to engage Shiratori any further, lest the newly appointed inspector, on the verge of being overwhelmed, drag him down as well.

Though running a ramen shop wasn’t a bad fallback, being a police officer promised a broader horizon.

*Click.*

Inspector Shiratori stepped aside, lit a cigarette with his lighter.

Watching the many officers still busy collecting evidence, he sighed.

Then, he heard footsteps approaching from afar.

Instantly, Shiratori turned his head, wary of the newcomer.

It was a man dressed in black—a man he disliked.

Why disliked? Because he had seen this man more than once.

“…You again,” Shiratori muttered.

“Who else but us can handle this?”

The man in black said sternly.

He took out his identification and showed it to Shiratori in accordance with protocol, then said,

“Metropolitan Police Public Security Bureau, Junior Inspector, Yuya Kazami.”

“This incident is a special terrorist attack posing a serious threat to national security. The Public Security Bureau has full authority over it. After signing a confidentiality agreement, the Criminal Investigation Department officers here must leave immediately.”

“When you return to the Metropolitan Police, my direct superior, a Public Security Bureau investigator, will contact you for follow-up.”

Yuya Kazami spoke with authority.

Shiratori was glad to hand over this case, impossible for the Criminal Investigation Department to solve, to the Public Security Bureau.

If external pressure forced the Criminal Investigation Department to deal with that murderous urban legend, Shiratori wouldn’t dare say how many of his officers would still be alive a week later.

“Understood. We’ll leave it to you then... Hey, keep the evidence and people here for now. Stand down!”

He shouted.

Other officers from the Third Violent Crimes Unit hurriedly transferred the case to their colleagues from the Public Security Bureau.

Soon, Shiratori left with his unit.

As for the reporters who had swarmed in at the scent of blood, they were stopped by Public Security before reaching the car company. By the next day, this matter would cause no ripple in the public sphere.

Such is the power of the Metropolitan Police Public Security Bureau.

They possess the authority to act first and report later, deciding whether to disclose a case publicly, and can even convict suspects without going through Public Security prosecutors!

Under normal circumstances, such a mechanism should not exist.

Yet it does.

“We must take action to eliminate this urban legend, Amuro-san.”

After all unrelated personnel had left, Yuya Kazami spoke quietly.

As he did, a figure emerged from the shadows—Rei Furuya, codenamed ZERO, a Public Security officer of Japan, wore a serious expression.

Such matters were no simple matter to be swept aside; soon the investigators would receive strict orders to deal with this urban legend. The trouble was, this urban legend bore a grudge against them.

Since returning home early, he had tried several times to contact the urban legend, but none ended well.

He couldn’t understand why that urban legend was always hostile toward them.

——

Hikaru Nara had already left the car company.

Seeing the reporters blocked outside, he knew once again it was the work of the Japanese Public Security.

He had always looked down on them. The reason was simple: the Public Security Bureau was the intelligence agency here, and its predecessor bore a name that to him was thunderous and utterly detested—

The Special Higher Police Action Division...

Known colloquially as the Tokko!