Chapter 116: The Puppet Master—Interrogation of Shinichi Nakamura

"I see!" Ryoichi Fujimoto exclaimed with a sudden look of realization, though he quickly added, "But Shin-ichi, that is just your conjecture. It sounds reasonable, but there is no evidence to support it."

"Yes, but as long as we investigate in the direction that the Kimura family is the culprit, we will surely find evidence," Shin-ichi Nakamura said, full of drive.

He despised banks above all else. His family had once been moderately wealthy, and banks had scrambled to offer them loans. However, when the economy took a downturn, the banks began calling in those debts, forcing his family into bankruptcy—otherwise, he would never have had to become a police officer.

In his eyes, bankers were the sort who would lend you an umbrella when the sun was out and snatch it away the moment it started to rain. They acted entirely for their own gain, and there wasn't a single good one among them. That the Kimura family was cunning was simply a matter of course.

Hideaki Aoyama said, "Since you are so convinced of your theory, Shin-ichi, go ahead and investigate."

Naturally, he had to support the work of his subordinates.

"Yes, sir!" Shin-ichi Nakamura bowed and replied.

Hideaki Aoyama then looked at Ryoichi Fujimoto and said thoughtfully, "Keep an eye on Ichi Aoi. Check to see if he has any involvement in illegal or criminal activities. If he doesn't, then find a way to help him acquire some."

"Yes, sir!" Ryoichi Fujimoto also bowed.

Hideaki Aoyama waved his hand to signal they could leave. Even from a hospital bed, he continued to direct operations; that was how dedicated he was.

The two men bowed once more and turned to leave.

Just as Hideaki Aoyama closed his eyes to rest, he heard the door open again. When he opened his eyes and saw who had entered, he frowned slightly. "President Tamiya."

This uninvited guest was none other than Keiko Tamiya, the president of the Heaven Club. With wine-red, shoulder-length curls, a pink tube dress, sheer nude-colored stockings, and high heels, she was dressed as ostentatiously as ever.

"Inspector Aoyama, you really are quite heartless," Keiko Tamiya said with a look of resentment. She closed the door and added in a delicate, pampered tone, "After what you did to me that day, leaving me needing to lean against the wall just to walk, you didn't want to see me again. You didn't even notify me that you were hospitalized. It’s so heartbreaking."

"I was just afraid that if you saw me lying in a hospital bed, you would be even more heartbroken. Not notifying you was for your own good!" Hideaki Aoyama said with shameless audacity.

Keiko Tamiya felt like retching. She thought, *Don't talk about lying in a hospital bed; even if you were lying in a coffin, I wouldn't shed a single tear.* But aloud, she said, "Inspector Aoyama is truly so thoughtful. Keiko is so moved; it turns out it was all just a misunderstanding on my part."

"It's fine. I forgive you. Being misunderstood is a common occurrence for adults," Hideaki Aoyama said magnanimously.

Keiko Tamiya wanted to bite his head off. She walked over to the bedside, sat down, gazed at him with affection, and asked with feigned concern, "Is it serious? Are you alright?"

"Thank you for your concern, President Tamiya. It's just some superficial injuries," Hideaki Aoyama smiled slightly.

The reason he had escaped disaster this time was entirely due to the extraordinary physical condition and reaction speed he had gained after his transmigration.

He still needed to push for a promotion as quickly as possible. Only with higher status would his safety be more guaranteed. For example, once he became Prime Minister, he certainly wouldn't have to worry about people trying to assassinate him.

Ahem, note the emphasis: former Prime Ministers don't count.

"That's good, that's good." Keiko Tamiya patted her chest, causing a sudden, surging motion, and then pulled a membership card out of her bag. "I forgot to give you this last time."

"That really isn't necessary. Last time, I was just tagging along with friends to broaden my horizons. I can't afford to go there on my salary," Hideaki Aoyama said, not reaching out to take it.

Keiko Tamiya forced it into his hand. "This card is different from the others. All your expenses at the club will be billed to my account. That should be acceptable, right?"

"Really? That must be worth a lot of money, right?" Hideaki Aoyama held the membership card, blinking his eyes.

Keiko Tamiya let out a soft laugh. "What do you think?"

"Then how much do you think I should sell it for?" Hideaki Aoyama frowned, asking with a look of genuine inquiry.

The smile on Keiko Tamiya's face froze, and her eyes turned cold. "Actually, Inspector Aoyama, there is no need to be so defensive against me. I just want to be friends with you. Many of my friends are police superintendents and chief inspectors; Inspector Aoyama can rest assured."

"President Tamiya, we can be friends, but bribery is out of the question." Hideaki Aoyama dropped the membership card onto her lap and said lightly, "I only know one principle: no reward without merit. If I take your favors and you ask me for help, what am I supposed to do? If you take someone's money, your hands are tied—how can we be friends on equal terms then?"

He didn't want to get too close to the Koreans, but he didn't want to offend them either. After all, the Koreans were narrow-minded, and their hearts were even smaller. If they felt he was being unappreciative and decided to teach him a lesson, wouldn't that be an unnecessary disaster?

After all, the Koreans were secretly supporting quite a few forces.

They were more than capable of dealing with him as he was now.

Unless, one day, when he held a high and powerful position, he could then consider subduing these Koreans to use as his dogs.

"Inspector Aoyama is right; it was my lack of consideration. In that case, I will take the membership card back." Upon hearing this, Keiko Tamiya blossomed into a smile again, put the card back in her bag, and said with charming allure, "Between friends, having a meal or grabbing a drink is always normal, don't you think, Inspector Aoyama?"

As long as Hideaki Aoyama was willing to continue interacting with her, she could subtly corrupt him and pull him into their camp.

"Having a roll in the hay is normal too." Hideaki Aoyama gave a lecherous laugh and slapped her leg. "Go back and exercise your body properly; don't be twitching and rolling your eyes at every little thing. You Koreans really aren't very capable."

"You..." Keiko Tamiya glared at him in shame and anger. She snorted, stood up, and took her leave. "Then, Inspector Aoyama, rest well. I have things to attend to; I'll be going."

*It's not my fault you're too big, dammit!*

"Take care," Hideaki Aoyama waved.

***

Inside a high-end cafe in Ginza, Tokyo, Taro Ninpei and Ichi Aoi met.

"He really has a cat's nine lives; even that didn't kill him," Taro Ninpei sighed regretfully.

The good don't live long, while the wicked live for a thousand years.

"According to the surveillance footage released in the news, his reaction was too fast. If it had been an ordinary person, they would have been hit," Ichi Aoi, a refined and elegant middle-aged man, sipped his coffee and continued, "Chizuko Matsumoto said that Hideaki Aoyama is a lecherous demon. Under her deliberate seduction, he already slept with her the night before last. What should we do next?"

His relationship with the Ninpei family was actually average; he only had a close personal friendship with Taro Ninpei. Although the Ninpei family had helped him when he was promoted to editor-in-chief, the only person he felt grateful to was Taro Ninpei.

Therefore, when Taro Ninpei asked him to help frame Hideaki Aoyama, he agreed without hesitation.

"Have Chizuko Matsumoto keep evidence and report him for rape the next time they have relations," a cold glint flashed in Taro Ninpei's eyes. If this small combo of moves was played out, he could ruin Hideaki Aoyama without even showing his face.

Even if Noritomo Hikokawa stepped in to help Hideaki Aoyama smooth over the scandal, his reputation would be severely damaged. It would be a wonder if Aya Asai still thought highly of him. In the end, she would still become his Ninpei family's daughter-in-law, and everything would return to its original track.

However, he did not know that Aya Asai had looked down on Hideaki Aoyama from the very beginning and was completely forced into marrying him.

Even if this incident were exposed, Aya Asai would only magnanimously express that she didn't care. Let alone if Hideaki Aoyama committed rape; even if he ate excrement, she would still be forced to marry him.

Ichi Aoi nodded and replied, "Fine."

At four o'clock in the afternoon, before getting off work, Shin-ichi Nakamura once again interrogated the driver who had hit Hideaki Aoyama.

"I told you already, I was drunk and had blurred consciousness, so I stepped on the wrong pedal! You can beat me to death, and it will still be the same!" The driver acted like a hardened criminal.

"I'm not going to beat you today," Shin-ichi Nakamura said with a mocking smile. He propped his legs up on the table and flicked his cigarette ash. "I just wanted to tell you one thing."

The driver's curiosity was successfully piqued by these words.

"Your son is young and promising. At such a young age, he's already started robbing his classmates. My colleagues from the Forced Criminality Division have just brought him in; he's being interrogated in the room right next to you," Shin-ichi Nakamura said with a smile.

The driver's face changed instantly, and he shouted in an agitated frenzy, "Bastard! Whatever you have, take it out on me, don't mess with my son!"

"Smack!" Shin-ichi Nakamura, who had just said he wouldn't beat him, broke his word. He raised his hand and slapped the driver hard, grabbed him by the hair, and cursed, "We're messing with him? We are upholding the law! Don't you know your own son?"

The driver was momentarily speechless, his face turning pale and blue. It was clear he knew his son was indeed capable of such a thing, but he still muttered a defense through trembling lips, "He... he's just a child."

"Yes, he's just a child, which is all the more reason we can't let him go." A mocking smile appeared on Shin-ichi Nakamura's face as he patted the driver's cheek. "If he's so bad at such a young age, won't he be even worse later? That's why we have to lock him up now to prevent him from hurting others."

"No! You can't do this! You can't!" The driver panicked, grabbing Shin-ichi Nakamura's sleeve and pleading, "Please, show some mercy. I don't have many days left to live, and he's the only man left in the family. Have some pity on us."

"Screw you. There are plenty of pitiful people in this world; how could I possibly pity them all?" Shin-ichi Nakamura shook him off without mercy, then changed his tone. "However... if you tell me who hired you to hit him with your car, I might be able to let him go."

Hearing this, the driver fell silent again.

He sat back down.

"Today it's your son caught for robbery, tomorrow it'll be your wife arrested for fraud, and the day after that, your daughter will be publicly criticized by her school for stealing. Are you sure you want to play games with us?" Shin-ichi Nakamura threatened with a smile.

For an ordinary person without a background, a little bit of willful abuse of power was enough to destroy their family.

"Bastard!" The driver stood up excitedly again, grabbed Shin-ichi Nakamura by the collar, and roared with bloodshot eyes, "I just wanted to make things easier for my family before I died! Why are you forcing me like this! You wretched bureaucrats, damn you!"

"Whether your family lives comfortably or dies, what the hell does that have to do with me?" Shin-ichi Nakamura scoffed, pried his hands away, and poked him in the chest. "I only know that you almost killed my superior. If you don't confess honestly, I can't guarantee your family will live well, but I can certainly make them miserable."

"Waaah, why, why are you forcing me!" The driver broke down, burying his head in the table and sobbing, "Why, why?"

His face was covered in tears, and his voice was full of frustration.

"Of course, it's because you're weak. What else could it be?" Shin-ichi Nakamura took a drag of his cigarette, his heart completely unmoved. "If you haven't spoken by the time I finish this cigarette, I'm going to the next room to mess with your son."

Japanese society was extremely cold. The weak received no sympathy; the weak were meant to die and be bullied. Although this viewpoint was extreme, it was more or less the truth.

After finishing the cigarette, seeing that the driver was still crying and refusing to confess, Shin-ichi Nakamura crushed the butt on the floor, turned to walk out, and said without looking back:

"I'll tell your son that it was you who chose not to protect him, which led to him being tortured."

"Wait! Wait!" Just as Shin-ichi Nakamura opened the door, the driver finally called out to him.

Shin-ichi Nakamura stopped and looked back at him.

"This is your last chance. Will you talk or not?"

The driver looked utterly desperate and helpless, his eyes hollow as he said, "Don't touch him. I'll talk, I'll tell you everything."