Five hours later.
Flashing red-blue lights pierced through the rain, sirens blaring, as a black car smoothly turned towards the gates of the Hokkaido Police Academy.
A group of journalists had gathered beside the movable barriers. They were wearing raincoats and covering their cameras with waterproof cloths, eagerly pushing forward in an attempt to break through the instructors' obstruction.
The driver rolled down the window, shouting for them to disperse. Unexpectedly, the journalists swarmed around, with four or five people leaning by the car window, bombarding with questions.
"Is it true that a shooting incident occurred at your academy?"
"Is this a revenge attack against the police by a criminal gang?"
"How many are dead? Has the investigation started?"
The journalist who squeezed in first shouted the loudest, a woman in her twenties or thirties, wearing frameless glasses. Her majestic bosom was propped up by the car window, holding the driver's gaze for four or five seconds.
The driver glanced down, noticing the work badge wedged in the cleavage, with the name printed on it.
"Intern Journalist: Yazaki Momo"
"Miss Yazaki, please step back and do not interfere with police duties..."
Before the driver could finish speaking, she interrupted, "So are you detectives from the first investigative unit? Did you just receive the notification of the report? Is it convenient to have a short interview?"
In this economic downturn, without working hard, you can't even keep your job. Yazaki Momo didn't care about obstructing official duties; if she didn't get an exclusive story this month, she'd have to pack up and leave!
"What a joke! Get lost!" The driver impatiently honked the horn, his pompadour hairstyle bouncing: "Believe it or not, I'll arrest you for obstructing official business!"
Yazaki Momo was not afraid of such a detective who only talked tough. She shoved the microphone into the driver's face while pushing a colleague's head into the car seat.
Just then, she heard a crisp metallic clash from the back seat.
Yazaki Momo turned her head and noticed for the first time there was a middle-aged man in the back seat.
The man had a full head of white hair slicked back with hair gel, styled in an American pompadour, deep nasolabial lines on his face, wearing brown translucent sunglasses. Through the lenses, Yazaki Momo observed that the man's left eye seemed blind, showing only the sclera with no pupil.
Another clicking sound, and Yazaki Momo's gaze lowered to see the middle-aged man holding a police gun.
"Eh?" Yazaki Momo was taken aback.
The middle-aged man rolled down the window and fired warning shots into the sky, three deafening bangs.
The journalists were startled into standing still on the spot.
The middle-aged man gestured for the driver to drive, who hesitated, "But there are still people in front..."
"I told you to drive, didn't you hear me?" the middle-aged man said, "If you hit someone, I'll take responsibility."
Upon hearing this, the driver gritted his teeth, stepped on the gas, and the journalists scattered in panic. Yazaki Momo fell to the ground, her face flushed with anger as she shouted at the taillights:
"Isn't this abuse of authority? Believe it or not, I'll report you!"
The voice reached the driver's ears. He instinctively glanced in the rearview mirror, softly reminded, "Boss, the Minister said if there's one more complaint this month, he'll transfer you to a police box as a patrol officer..."
The middle-aged man didn't respond. He looked up, met the driver's eyes through the narrow rearview mirror.
The driver felt a chill in his heart, lightly patted his own face, pretending to talk to himself: "My tongue suddenly itches, spouting nonsense... this rain is really heavy."
The water curtain stuck to the glass, distorting the view outside.
Four or five minutes later, the car stopped in front of the auditorium. A circle of yellow police tape surrounded the area, and the identification officers had arrived ahead of time, wearing raincoats, taking photos and collecting evidence.
The driver got out first, eagerly holding an umbrella, "Boss, we're here..."
"Use formal language outside."
The middle-aged man pushed open the car door, wearing a gray suit, standing upright.
"Yes! Chief Kazama!" The driver stood at attention and saluted.
The identification officers heard the name, instinctively raised their heads, saluting in return.
They lowered their cameras and whispered with their partners.
"Is it him? The ace of the Investigation Department, high case-solving and complaint rates..."
"It's him, Kazama Tatsuya, the chief of the first investigative unit, came in person..."
"Keep your voice down, don't call him by name directly..."
Kazama Tatsuya was long accustomed to others' criticism. He looked up, swept a glance at the auditorium, not in a hurry to enter, but instead stood by the roadside observing the outdoor environment.
The driver continued holding the umbrella, his arm growing sore. Seeing the chief not going in, he wondered if the boss was deliberately standing at the door to look cool...
"Follow me."
Kazama Tatsuya turned around to the back of the auditorium. Not far away, the sound of an argument reached his ears. He first glanced at the second-floor window, then looked at the two people arguing.
A petite girl pleaded, "Please, just let me take a look! Just one glance, I won't disturb the crime scene!"
She wasn't wearing a raincoat or carrying an umbrella, soaked from head to toe.
"I told you, it's not allowed; this is not a place for playacting..." The officer spotted the two approaching, immediately stood at attention, and saluted Kazama Tatsuya: "Hello, Chief!"
The driver stepped forward, clicking his tongue in reprimand: "What's going on? Does the boss have to teach you how to disperse the crowd of onlookers?!"
"I'm very sorry! I'll make her leave right away..."
Kazama Tatsuya took the umbrella from the driver's hand, sauntered forward to shield the girl from the rain, and said to the officer, "It's okay, you can go elsewhere to keep watch."
"Yes!" The officer felt a huge relief, quickly left.
The driver thought, what about me? Boss, you took the umbrella—what about me? My suit can't get wet!
He stooped down, tagging along behind Kazama Tatsuya, sneaking under the umbrella to avoid the rain, but retreated honestly to get drenched after receiving a glare.
"Are you a police academy student?" Kazama Tatsuya asked.
"...Yes." The girl replied softly.
"What's your name?"
"Minamoto Tamako."
"Are you connected to the deceased?"
"One is my instructor, and the other...is my good friend."
"Why come to the back of the auditorium? If you want to check the scene, you should go through the front entrance, right?"
"The auditorium's north side is adjacent to the school wall. If an outsider climbed the wall to sneak into the school, they would certainly go under the window and come down, rather than risk jumping down. So I think there might be clues at the second-floor window, planning to climb up and see..."
Kazama Tatsuya was slightly surprised, finally assessing the girl seriously.
Her eyes were red, probably from crying...to be exact, she was still crying, with her nose twitching slightly, but the tears mixed with the rain were invisible.
"Want to go take a look together?" Kazama Tatsuya asked.
"Can I?" Minamoto Tamako bowed and exclaimed loudly, "Thank you very much!"
The three of them circled back to the front entrance. Kazama Tatsuya maintained a distance from Minamoto Tamako all the way, but tilted the umbrella toward her, resulting in him getting half of his shoulder wet.
The identification officer pushed open the heavy auditorium doors, a creaky sound echoed, and a thick scent of blood assaulted their senses.
Minamoto Tamako's eyes widened, instinctively taking a step back.
In the center of the auditorium, two female corpses sat against the stage wall, above which loomed the majestic police emblem and two glaring words in blood:
— "Heavenly Punishment"