Chapter 61: It's Normal to Be Unaccustomed to Killing for the First Time

Scarface was exceedingly cautious. Though he believed that the captured Fujiwara, the blond, wouldn’t confess everything so quickly, for safety’s sake, he decided to send someone to test the waters at the money stash first.

He spent a large sum to hire three petty hoodlums, instructing them to cover their faces with caps and masks and try the door of the stash house. Meanwhile, he and his two companions watched the situation from their car parked at the entrance to the residential district.

If anything suspicious happened, they would simply abandon the money and speed away.

But Shunobu Aoyama was even more vigilant. Not only had he stationed people both inside and outside the stash house, he had also placed two men at each end of the street, hidden in cars to keep watch.

Thus, as soon as Scarface’s car stopped at the intersection, it was immediately noticed, and the report was sent to Shunobu Aoyama.

“Point One calling Deputy Chief: a white Honda has stopped at the intersection. Three people wearing baseball caps and masks have exited and are approaching the target house. Three remain inside the vehicle, faces unclear.”

Shunobu Aoyama pondered briefly before swiftly making a judgment. “The three who got out first may be a diversion. The ones left in the car are the real players. Everyone, stay hidden and wait for my command before acting.”

All points responded in unison.

The three hoodlums, following Scarface’s instructions, went up to the stash house, knocked forcefully, peered inside through the crack, and seeing no one, signaled with a raised hand and left by the opposite end of the street.

Shunobu Aoyama, watching from the second floor of the house across the street, saw it all and knew his judgment was correct. Now the main act was about to begin.

“No problem. Let’s go,” Scarface said from the Honda, finally relaxing.

The vehicle started slowly and drove up to the stash house.

Just as the middle-aged driver was about to kill the engine and park, Scarface was suddenly struck by a realization. His face changed dramatically, and he cried out, “Something’s wrong! Get out—now!”

It was far too quiet. The three hoodlums had knocked so loudly, yet none of the neighbors from the surrounding houses had come out to check. Something was off.

“Ah!” The driver, about to park, froze for a second, then quickly pressed the accelerator and shot toward the intersection ahead.

Aoyama, watching from across the street, knew they’d been exposed. He dashed downstairs, shouting, “The robbers are about to escape! Point Two, cut them off! Everyone else, follow me for the arrest!”

At his command, more than a dozen subordinates rushed from their hiding places, guns drawn, pursuing Scarface and his companions.

The two at Point Two started their vehicle, engine roaring, and sharply turned to block the intersection. The officer in the passenger seat drew his pistol and shouted at the approaching suspects, “Police! Slow down! Stop!”

“Ram them!” Scarface ordered from the back seat, gripping the ceiling handle.

The engine’s roar grew deafening.

The driver, sweating profusely, gripped the wheel, eyes locked on the black Volkswagen blocking their path. Ignoring the police warnings, he gritted his teeth and charged.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

As the car drew closer, the officer in the Volkswagen’s passenger seat, nervous, squeezed the trigger.

The Honda’s windshield shattered into a spiderweb pattern. The three inside ducked low.

Boom! Crash!

On impact, the Volkswagen’s door crumpled, sliding backward several meters. The two officers within were knocked unconscious, but the Honda stalled, forced to a stop—manual transmissions do tend to stall.

“Hurry, get out!” Scarface shook his head, grabbed his gun, and took cover by the car, firing at the pursuing officers.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Aoyama and his team scattered, taking cover behind walls and returning fire.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The two sides, separated by barely ten meters, exchanged gunfire—one group behind the car, the other behind walls. Bullets sparked against metal and sent dust flying from the masonry.

“We can’t go on like this, we’re almost out of ammo,” Scarface panted, knowing their deaths were certain if the standoff continued. Reloading, he glanced at the unconscious police in the Volkswagen, inspiration flashing in his eyes. He turned to the bald man. “Drag one of those cops out as a hostage. We’ll cover you!”

“Got it!” the bald man replied, firing two shots at random, then crouched toward the Volkswagen.

“Don’t move! Police! Hands up!”

Suddenly, a cool female voice sounded behind them. Scarface and his men instinctively turned. At the intersection stood a female officer, long hair over her shoulders, ivory suit open, badge hanging from her chest, both hands gripping her weapon.

“Inspector Asai?”

Aoyama and his team saw her too.

“Screw you!” the bald man cursed, fearless in the face of a gun, raising his weapon toward Aya Asai.

Bang! Bang!

Aya Asai, reacting instinctively, squeezed the trigger: one shot struck the bald man’s face, the other his neck. He collapsed instantly, blood surging from his throat.

“Damn it!” Scarface’s fury erupted.

Aya Asai, still tense from the killing, heard his shout. Her dazed eyes shifted, and she fired several shots.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Scarface was hit in the chest; blood stained his white shirt. He looked down in disbelief, tried to raise his gun to retaliate, but his arm wouldn’t budge. He gasped a few times, then died on the spot.

“Big brother!” the last surviving man, eyes bloodshot, shouted, glaring at Aya Asai with murderous intent.

Aya Asai’s face was pale, her hand trembling as she stared at the grim deaths before her.

“Move in!” Shunobu Aoyama waved his hand. The dozen officers advanced, weapons ready, closing in on the middle-aged man.

He offered no further resistance, dropping his gun and sitting, waiting to be arrested.

Aoyama strode forward, kicked away the gun at his side, and Shinichi Nakamura followed, pinning the man and cuffing him.

Relief swept through everyone. Only then did they check on their unconscious colleagues in the Volkswagen.

“Call an ambulance! Someone’s injured!”

Aya Asai still stood, lost in thought, gun in hand.

It was her first time shooting someone dead. Though she’d fired before, she’d never aimed for vital spots.

“Why are you here?” Aoyama holstered his weapon and approached her.

She was dazed, unable to respond.

He firmly took the gun from her hand.

She shuddered, her eyes slowly regaining clarity. She looked at Aoyama and pressed her lips together. “Everyone from the Firearms Division is involved in this arrest. As division chief, it wouldn’t be right for me not to come.”

Though her father, Takehiko Asai, for her safety, hadn’t wanted her involved, she resented being seen as someone who’d risen through family connections. After much thought, she decided to take part.

“You came at the right time.” Aoyama returned her gun, gesturing toward the two injured officers being carried from the car. “If they’d been taken hostage, today would’ve been a disaster.”

“They…” Aya Asai glanced at the bald man and Scarface she’d killed, anxiety flickering in her eyes. “Was my use of force improper?”

“Not at all. You gave fair warning. They attacked first, and everyone saw it,” Aoyama smiled, handing her back her sidearm and sharing his experience to comfort her. “It’s normal to feel unsettled after your first kill. I was like that too. But after a few more, it stops bothering you. Take your time.”

Aya Asai gave him a strange look, half tempted to arrest and interrogate him herself.

“Ahem, just kidding,” Aoyama laughed, realizing his slip. “You don’t really think I’ve killed a lot of people, do you? Surely not?”

“Ridiculous!” Aya Asai snorted, but the banter eased the psychological discomfort from her first fatal shooting.

…………………………

Back at the station, Aoyama reported the entire operation to Takehiko Asai, making sure to vouch for Aya Asai. “We owe today’s success to Inspector Asai’s timely arrival. Otherwise, the consequences would’ve been dire.”

Aya Asai stood quietly, head bowed.

“Thank you for your efforts, Deputy Chief Aoyama. Go rest,” Takehiko Asai said kindly.

Aoyama bowed and, as he left, gave Aya Asai a helpless look.

No sooner had Aoyama gone than Takehiko Asai’s demeanor changed. Filled with rage, he grabbed a stack of files from his desk and hurled them at Aya Asai.

Smack!

The papers struck her, scattering, pages fluttering to the floor.

“Do you realize how dangerous today was?” Takehiko Asai stormed up, voice harsh and oppressive. “In that situation, if you’d hesitated even one second, you’d have died there!”

“Yes, sir,” Aya Asai replied softly, head still bowed.

Takehiko Asai took a deep breath, his anger barely contained. He spoke earnestly, “Aya, you are my daughter. You don’t need to risk your life—”

“You’re wrong, Father. Precisely because I am your daughter, because I am a descendant of the Asai family, I cannot fear danger,” she interrupted, raising her head and meeting his gaze, eyes stubborn and resolute.

Takehiko Asai was momentarily speechless, unsure if he should feel proud or simply exhausted.

He said nothing, but Aya Asai continued, pouring out her heart. “Our family was among the first police officers when the Japanese police system was founded in 1871. The Asai name is respected in law enforcement, and our status was earned with the blood of generations. Are you asking me to turn our family’s honor into a joke?”

“As a descendant, I must prove through my own actions that the Asai legacy is genuine, not just a name in a roll of honors that brings shame to our ancestors. I must not let others think the Asai family is undeserving.”

“Of course, you are my superior. I disobeyed your orders today, which was wrong. I accept whatever punishment you see fit. Please, Father, deal with me impartially.”

When she finished, she bowed deeply.

“Go now,” Takehiko Asai said after watching her for a while, waving her off.

“Yes, sir,” Aya Asai replied, turning to leave.

Meanwhile, in the interrogation room, Aoyama needed only one maneuver to get the middle-aged man to confess to all the gang’s crimes. “If you cooperate fully, I’ll let you share a cell with Fujiwara.”

The man, who had been silent, head bowed in defiance, suddenly looked up, his eyes burning with anger and resentment.

“Fine, I’ll tell you everything.”