Chapter 3

No one believed he was telling the truth until he actually resigned and left, never to return.

After that, Mimic was extradited to Japan, Ango Sakaguchi's identity as an undercover agent was exposed, and... Sakunosuke Oda died.

At the thought, Osamu Dazai clicked his tongue and flexed his arm. "Anyway, everyone head back to the detective agency first. I'm going out for a bit."

He needed to find out why this old acquaintance had come back at a time like this.

Meanwhile, Kamiki Yūhaku returned to the park he had grown accustomed to. The evacuation warning had been lifted, and most people had left the shelters and were hurrying home with their families. No one was in the mood to go shopping or have fun. Kamiki Yūhaku stretched, and the crow took flight from his shoulder, quickly disappearing over the horizon.

"Bye, Little Crow." Kamiki Yūhaku watched the crow disappear, then leaned against the back of the bench and yawned.

It had rained during the day yesterday, and the air was damp. Even though it hadn't rained at night, Kamiki Yūhaku felt chilled. He might even have caught a cold. Otherwise, why would he be sleepy in broad daylight?

With that thought, Kamiki Yūhaku lay down on his side. A screen of light invisible to ordinary people appeared before him.

"Host: Kamiki Yūhaku. [Artificial ability user] binding in progress."

"Current recognition: 68%"

"Sixty-eight percent. It dropped again," Kamiki Yūhaku murmured. "It's dropping faster and faster."

Kamiki Yūhaku was a corporate slave working a 996 schedule. His greatest wish was to earn enough money to retire early, preferably buying a big house where he could keep a dog. But who could have known that, on a business trip, he would be sent flying by an out-of-control truck? As he lay at death's door, a system bound itself to him.

The system called itself the [Tragic Beauty System], but some problems had caused its character settings to be lost, leaving only incomplete character templates. It hoped Kamiki Yūhaku could help it complete them. As long as he agreed and completed the tasks, it could bring him back to life.

There was no such thing as a free lunch. Kamiki Yūhaku's head was full of conspiracy theories, but as he felt his breathing grow weaker and weaker, he agreed.

Climb a mountain of blades or plunge into a sea of fire, it doesn't matter, as long as I can live!

And that was how he had gotten here.

Kamiki Yūhaku closed the system and yawned lazily again.

At first, Kamiki Yūhaku hadn't known how to complete the character setting. Then, by chance, he joined the Port Mafia and discovered that his recognition was rising rapidly. Only then did he understand that recognition was the extent to which ordinary people perceived a person—in other words, the labels they gave them.

In ordinary people's eyes, Kamiki Yūhaku was a terrifying mafioso. Applying that label to him increased his recognition.

So Kamiki Yūhaku kept at it, going further and further down the path of evil and terror.

Two months ago, his recognition had surpassed seventy percent. But after that, it never rose again. No matter what he did, he couldn't push it any higher. It had even begun to fall little by little. In other words, his villain label was already full enough; he couldn't become a more terrifying bad guy.

That was right. Kamiki Yūhaku had returned to Yokohama for a new recognition plan.

Since his villain label was full, it was time to start increasing his recognition in other ways.

"Hey, kid, who are you? Don't you know this is our turf?"

Kamiki Yūhaku opened his eyes. From where he lay on his back, he saw three young men surrounding him and looking down at him. The one who had just shouted had dyed his hair blond and permed it into curls, giving him an especially arrogant and domineering look.

Oh, they're punks.

"Did you hear me?" Blondie grabbed Kamiki Yūhaku by the tie. "This is our turf, kid. You've sullied it, so pay up!"

"Yeah! Pay up!"

"Hand over all your money!"

Kamiki Yūhaku counted them, then nodded after a moment. "There's one too few, but it doesn't matter. I happen to have trouble making choices, so help me pick!"

"Whatever you do, don't choose wrong."

When Osamu Dazai arrived, that was the scene he found.

Kamiki Yūhaku sat on the bench in a black coat, saying something with a smile. In front of him, the three bruised and battered punks had tears in their eyes, looking pitiful as they wanted to run but didn't dare.

Dazai moved closer and finally heard what Kamiki Yūhaku was saying.

"Say I want to be a good person. Should I abandon my past and become a good person again? Or should I use what I know now to force them to acknowledge that I'm a good person?"

"The first way might be more sincere, but it seems such a waste to give up those advantages."

"Which do you think is better?"

"The latter? I think that choice sounds pleasant too, but then I wouldn't count as a good person, would I?"

The three punks trembled, not daring to breathe too loudly.

"You come back to Yokohama after four years, and this is where you pick on some punks?" Dazai walked over, a hint of amusement in his dark brown eyes. "You really know how to have fun."

"Huh? Pick on them?" Kamiki Yūhaku smiled. "What are you talking about? They volunteered to help me with my troubles, didn't you?"

The punks nodded frantically through their tears.

"That's right, that's right! We volunteered to help this gentleman!"

"You still like pulling this sort of thing." Dazai stood in front of Kamiki Yūhaku, his hands in the pockets of his sand-colored coat and his beautiful dark brown eyes fixed on him. "But you wouldn't be yourself otherwise. You use that information to threaten the people involved, exaggerating things to make them feel like they'll lose their entire future if they don't do as you say."

Kamiki Yūhaku sighed. "Mr. Dazai, you've misunderstood me. I really didn't do anything."

"You can go," Dazai told the punks.

The punks glanced cautiously at Kamiki Yūhaku, then scrambled away.

"I heard what you said just now." Dazai sat down beside Kamiki Yūhaku. "You want to change jobs? You're quitting as an informant?"

"Changing jobs doesn't necessarily mean changing professions. It could mean something else." Kamiki Yūhaku nodded as he spoke, looking as though he thoroughly agreed with himself. "Hey, Dazai, do you know any organizations that need people? The Port Mafia doesn't count. I want to join an organization that's friendly and full of good people."

"I don't know why you've made that decision, but..." Dazai rubbed his chin. "Do you want to join the detective agency?"

"It's a place full of good people."

"I can make you an external associate, so you won't have to take the entrance exam. Not that you'd ever pass that thing anyway, Mr. Terrifying Informant."

Chapter 3

"Are you sure?" Kamiki Yūhaku met Dazai's eyes. "Are you really inviting me to join your organization?"

"Of course..." Dazai smiled. "I'm joking."

"Go as far away as you can, and don't you dare come to the detective agency and make trouble for everyone. Someone like you isn't suited to joining any organization."

"That's so mean." Kamiki Yūhaku pouted, looking aggrieved. "Mr. Dazai, you must have some kind of misunderstanding about me."

Dazai was unmoved. He didn't trust Kamiki Yūhaku at all, even though he had just heard him declare that he wanted to become a good person. He didn't know why Kamiki Yūhaku had suddenly returned to Yokohama and said those things, but he didn't believe Kamiki Yūhaku could really switch sides so quickly.

He was a man covered in filth, concealing the sludge inside beneath a beautiful exterior.

He was too dangerous, not someone the detective agency could bring under control in a short time.

Besides, Kamiki Yūhaku simply had no sense of loyalty to an organization. He wouldn't fit into any of them. To him, even the Port Mafia was a place he could betray whenever he pleased. Letting him join an organization would often only add to the information he had stored away.

"Let's get back to the point." Dazai returned to the subject. "Didn't you leave Japan? Why did you suddenly come back? And to Yokohama, no less. I thought someone with your talents would go somewhere like Tokyo to make a career."

"Are you interested in that, Mr. Dazai?" Kamiki Yūhaku said quietly, "Actually, I'm creating a legend."

"What kind of legend?"

"A nightwalker who can grant wishes and punish the wicked." Kamiki Yūhaku spoke each word distinctly. "Doesn't that sound interesting?"

Dazai looked at Kamiki Yūhaku. "The Azure King?"

"Not quite." Kamiki Yūhaku tilted his head, his red eyes motionless in their sockets, like a beautiful porcelain doll. "Mr. Dazai, do you know why the Azure King failed back then?"

"Because he stepped into the abyss of ideals."

"Wrong." Kamiki Yūhaku narrowed his eyes slightly, wearing an infinitely gentle smile, as lovely as if he were embracing the sunlight. "It was because he challenged the authority of the military police and carried out vigilante justice without a ruling from the public authorities. That was why he and the entire Azure Apostle failed."

Dazai sighed. "You still hate government personnel that much."

"Of course." Kamiki Yūhaku stood up. "After all, the people who made me what I am were those so-called government personnel. Of course I have reason to hate them."

"How about letting yourself go?" Dazai watched Kamiki Yūhaku leave. "People are a little happier when they don't know."

"What a shame," Kamiki Yūhaku said with a smile. "I'm an informant."

"I know everything."

Dazai remained seated, watching Kamiki Yūhaku wave a hand. The next moment, a crow descended from the sky and landed on the back of Kamiki Yūhaku's hand. He paid it no mind, instead drawing his hand back and letting the crow hop onto his shoulder. The crow fluttered its wings twice in the sunlight, blending perfectly with Kamiki Yūhaku's black coat.