YF followed the convoy as closely as possible while avoiding the long line of cars barely moving along the arterial roads. Several people cursed at him as he zipped past them in his scooter, the bystanders passing faster and faster as he pulled on the throttle. YF tried to ignore the irate pedestrians as he concentrated on keeping up with the emergency vehicles, reasoning that that was much more important than what the community thought about him. When the line of vehicles exited near the hospital, the road became much clearer due to law enforcement having blockaded the path; ten minutes later YF and the convoy reached the hospital. YF slowed to a halt and pressed his boot against the metal road surface. He looked up at the sky through his visor. The clouds fully covered the sun, relieving what would have otherwise been an oppressively hot morning. He looked back toward the ambulances. After the first vehicle’s paramedics wheeled out their patients on the gurneys, YF lifted his feet and gently pulled the throttle, cruising until he reached the first vehicle. He accosted the driver as he exited.
“I need you to go out to Daimon-doori to pick somebody up for me,” said YF.
“I’m not going anywhere that dispatch doesn’t send me,” said the middle aged man with a confused look.
YF pulled five cigarettes out of the pack that Mizuno had given him, placing them into the man’s shirt pocket. “The road’s blocked off now and if anyone asks I’ll say the Village Office needed your services.”
“You mean the Town Office?”
“Yes, I suppose we are the Town Office now. Now can we please go?”
The ambulance driver tapped his shirt pocket with four fingers before motioning with his head toward the ambulance. “Get in.”
The two of them pulled out from the hospital drop off platform and drove back toward Daimon-doori.
“What do you think happened in the Silver District?” asked YF after they had made it ten minutes out.
“Obviously a shootout. Though the marks on the walls suggest whatever they had was more powerful than the typical sectarian weaponry. Perhaps it’s dangerous to speculate, though I’m sure they got it on the black market.” The driver frowned. “But even the black market has rules. Who exactly gave them that level of firepower is the problem.”
“Right,” said YF.
“What do you think?” asked the driver.
“I think the Ward needs to send people to check in on it.”
The driver smirked. “Hate to burst your bubble youngblood, but I have a bad feeling law and order in the Villages — excuse me, the Towns — is about to get a lot worse before it gets better. And the Ward is probably not coming to save us anymore.”
The rest of the trip passed by without much more than superficial topics exchanged between YF and the ambulance driver. When they reached the man whom YF had found lying in the bushes, he was obviously deceased.
The ambulance driver pointed a finger toward the body through the window, shaking his head. “We’ve been seeing more cases like this.”
“An overdose?” asked YF, looking over the driver’s shoulder.
“Yes, technically, though I think it’s quite a bit different from the usual cases.”
“What do you mean?”
“A low dosage of the stuff is all that’s required. Chemical analysis showed it’s a stereoisomer of some sort of seizure medicine.”
YF raised an eyebrow. “You into chemistry?”
The driver shook his head. “Few of the paramedics are studying to become doctors. They talk about the cases we pick up a lot.”
“Seizure medicine, huh,” said YF. That’s new.” He opened the door and stepped out, walking slowly toward the body in the bushes. He crouched down next to the man. “It’s not just some sort of daywalker drug amplified? Is there something new trending in Ard or Xian?”
The driver shrugged. “Like I said, I’m only telling you what the paramedics tell me. I have no clue.”
“Itsugo Five Six, Itsugo Five Six.”
The driver turned back and reached his arm through the window, pressing a button on the terminal. “This is Five Six.”
“Five Six report your position.”
“I’m at Daimon-doori with…”
“5-17-1.”
“Patrolman Five-Seventeen-One,” said the driver.
“Five Six you’ve left your paramedic team at the hospital.”
“It was an emergency. We’re on our way.”
There was a moment of silence. “Report in ten minutes.” The line clicked.
YF turned to the driver. “Get out the spare gurney, let’s take him back.”
The driver pursed his lips and nodded, walking silently to the back of the vehicle and opening up the double doors. He then climbed in and unfastened the spare third gurney attached to the wall, pulling it out and propping it up for the patient. The two of them then hoisted the man onto the mobile bed, pushing him into the vehicle and driving toward the hospital.
Halfway through the hospital ride YF received a call from the Town Office.
“Sakai.”
“Magistrate Kuroda?”
“Report to the Town Office as soon as you can.”
YF thought of the koban with its graffiti and window safety bars completely ripped out. “That would leave the koban unattended.”
“It’s not as if you can do anything from there anyway. Come and I’ll make it brief.”
“Yes sir,” said YF, hanging up.
“The transition ain’t easy is it?” asked the driver.
YF exhaled slowly. “Well that’s the understatement of the century.”
The driver chuckled. “I’d stock up on booze and tobacco if I were you. It’s going to be a hell of a ride.”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
***
YF tried to ignore his splitting headache from his solo izakaya run the evening before as he glanced at Magistrate Kuroda.
“I need you to investigate where the sectarians got their weapons,” said the Magistrate, swiping multiple documents from his receiver to YF’s.
YF frowned. “Where’s backup from the Ward Office? Shoda? Higashi?”
“The Ward Office is no longer showing up automatically for serious cases like before,” said Kuroda. “You will have to do at least an initial investigation and submit a report to me. I will then give it to the Ward Office who will send backup if necessary.”
“So you gave me some training videos on detainee rights and now you’re throwing me to the wolves?” asked YF, hardly containing his rage.
“If you want my honest opinion, the government is overspending on housing and infrastructure development in Itsugo. If they really wanted law and order they’d spend a bit more on the Town Office. On top of that they won’t disclose much of what they’re doing in the weapons department, though I’m sure Ms. Hayashi’s acquisition of Sumida Weapons is making her a pretty penny.”
YF recalled the image of Reina speaking on the evening news the day she announced she was alive and well, wearing a dress much more demure than YF was used to, covered by a dark cardigan. “So if I make a bunch of shit up and write up a few pages they’ll send backup?”
“If that’s what you feel you need to do,” Kuroda sighed, inhaling through his vape box. “Though I can’t say they won’t catch on to it.”
“Understood, sir.” YF stood up and walked out of the office.
***
YF’s first trip was to the morgue, where he made an appointment to speak to the coroner. The coroner eventually came out over an hour after the appointed time.
“Sir—” YF started.
“Staffing remains the same while the amount of official paperwork increases day by day,” said the coroner. “The delays are only going to get worse. So you might want to save your rage over the long run.”
YF exhaled. "Cause of death?" He glanced at the examination table, where the man he had found in the bushes laid with a long, wide cloth draped over his body.
"Overdose from a new synthetic drug," said the coroner.
"Is there any way we could tell who made it?
"Generally no. Though by new laws that have passed recently, anybody who is caught making this stuff should theoretically be prosecuted. It wouldn't matter who's making it."
YF examined the uncertain look on the coroner's face. "But?"
"But—” the coroner crossed his arms. “I have to check with my colleagues but the starting materials for this particular drug were banned from the country at least a century ago. We might find who is distributing but perhaps not who is making it. I suspect all of it is made internationally."
YF nodded slowly. "This must be related to the incident in Silver District." He started to stand up.
The coroner stepped forward and grabbed YF's arm. "Where money is to be made, blood will be spilt. You need to kick this up a level. Don't walk into something you’ll regret alone."
YF gently wrapped his hand around the coroner's wrist and pulled his hand away. "The Town Magistrate has already said there won't be any backup until I submit a report. I will have to make do for a while."
"You have a death wish?" the coroner whispered.
"I've been dealing with these guys for a while. If they decide to kill me now when they haven't before, then so be it."
***
While Uwada gave the impression of being the straight forward, old school sectarian type, Nakajima was thin, cold, and polite in an aloof way, hard to believe considering the behavior of his men.
“I’m particular to this sencha,” said YF as he drank half his cup of tea, trying hard not to show how he really felt about Nakajima and sectarians in general.
“It’s from the northern hills,” said Nakajima with a smile. “I can have some more sent to your office if you would like.”
YF hissed through his lips as he took another sip of the hot tea, placing the cup on the table. “As Itsugo boys both I believe we value the direct approach over the curves and bends of city folk,” said YF, leaning in toward Nakajima. “Mr. Nakajima, what is it you want from me?”
“Several of my men are engaged in activities previously considered of ambiguous legality in the eyes of the law, though such activities will soon be legitimized.”
“Oh?” asked YF, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure of the imminent change?”
“It will come,” said Nakajima.
“So what you want is for me to turn a blind eye until then.”
Nakajima feigned offense. “Nothing of the sort. This is a transition period where many laws that previously did or didn’t apply to our great Village will soon change. I merely hope for the smoothest transition possible.”
“I can’t promise that,” said YF.
“Why is that?” asked Nakajima, smiling dangerously.
“I ultimately have to answer to the Magistrate. Whatever he orders me to do must be executed in as good a faith as possible.”
“I assure you the Magistrate will not find fault in the execution of your duties.”
“That,” said YF. “Is between the Magistrate and I. What I can tell you though, is if you do what is acceptable within the old laws and the new, you will have no trouble from me.”
Nakajima’s eyes seemed to glow, more than he had expected. “Oh?”
“Yes,” said YF, uneasily.
“Well then there should be no problem,” said Nakajima with that same smile.
“Ah, I did have an important question to ask you though, Nakajima,” said YF as he picked up the teacup and drained its contents, setting the cup down.
“What is that?”
“The overdoses, in and near the village,” said YF, pointing around the room. He could see Nakajima’s smile wavering. “What do you know about that?”
“Oh it’s an unfortunate business all around,” said Nakajima, throwing his hands up in mock distress. “Uwada and his men are distributing some foreign substance. The level of addiction is unprecedented, and the price is so high, ensuring that unscrupulous company can make the most profits as possible.”
“So you advise me to go talk to Uwada about it.”
“Of course! Who can say how forthcoming he will be? But this ugly event is no business of ours I can assure you.”
“Earnest?” asked YF.
“Earnest.”
YF nodded slowly, looking around the room and making eye contact with several of Nakajima’s men, including Higashikuni. With few exceptions, most of them averted his gaze. “Well!” said YF, slapping his knee and standing up. “All of the good families — I mean enterprises — in town are trying to greet me with the utmost courtesy. At the same time there is nobody to relieve me at the koban, so you must understand that I will condense all my meetings to fit into one day — today — as to return to my duties as soon as possible.”
“Of course,” said Nakajima, standing up. “Higashikuni! Show our honored guest the way out.”
***
“I’m not sure what Nakajima told you,” said Uwada. “But we most certainly are not a part of what’s going on in town.”
Mizuno looked uneasy.
“So you swear you aren’t involved in the recent overdoses.”
“No,” said Uwada emphatically.
“I see.” YF tried as best he could not to eye Mizuno. “Nakajima seems to think otherwise."
"Huh!" Uwada exclaimed. "And after all we've been through you believe him."
YF recalled Uwada handing him an insufficient weapon during the raid in the wastelands. "I'm not sure what exactly is supposed to endear me to either of you."
Uwada’s expression grew serious. "In reality I advise you to hunker down in that station of yours and hold your firearm to the door as much as possible. Things are about to get very ugly."
YF tsked in frustration. "Don't tell me what to do.”
"You're a man grown and can do what you wish. You may not like me, but I rarely lie. That much you should understand by now."
YF felt the urge to stand up and leave, but just as he was about to do so he remembered his exchange with Mizuno. "So we've talked enough about Nakajima but I have a feeling this isn't what you called me here for. So why am I here?"
Uwada eyed Mizuno before looking at YF. "Mizuno wishes to make a pledge of brotherhood with you. A five point brotherhood, where both of you would be of equal stature."
YF stood up so fast his chair fell over backwards. "I do not!" he seethed. "I do not take oaths. Particularly not with sectarians."
"You've made your feelings toward us clear," said Uwada, seeming to hold back his rage on account of Mizuno. "But can you still afford to think you are somehow above all this? After how many times you've soiled your hands?"
"I will kill my brother when the time comes," said YF, clenching his fists. "And I care not whether I die in the process. I care not whose company I must entertain along the way. I care about nothing so long as Hiroyuki is stopped."
“I—” Before YF could speak more, he felt a gentle hand on his forearm.
"Mr. Sakai," said Mizuno in a soft voice.
YF turned to Mizuno, looking at him without replying.
"Come with me," Mizuno said standing up. "Let's speak in private."