The entire Industrial chain Hiroki had uncovered surprised Fujino, yet somehow, it did not.
Well, even Conan World had this kind of utterly deranged Industrial chain...
There had simply been too many murder cases, making him think the people of Beika did not understand sustainability and only knew how to drain the pond dry for fish.
After all, the Alcohol Company had already taken to the skies with mounted machine guns. The Little Animal Organization and the Alcohol Company could have street gang shootouts, and no one would care. What else could possibly be impossible?
As long as there was profit, as long as there was capital, it was the same anywhere.
For profit, they could dismantle people like toys. For profit, they could frame others. For profit, they could easily start a war and profit from it.
Perhaps in a world of superheroes, there would be superheroes fighting crime and upholding justice.
But in reality, where were there such supermen of individual heroism?
All that remained were girls who had lost their fathers, wives who had lost their husbands, and parents who had lost their children.
Maybe the world had simply grown colder and colder.
Or perhaps everyone knew they were merely ordinary people who would be buried in the dirt if they fought bravely, filled with righteous indignation yet powerless to resist, numbed by the harsh lessons of reality.
Ordinary people could not even speak of certain things.
Fujino took out the bank card from his Pocket Dimension and looked at it.
Something like this could never be completely destroyed. Destroy one, and another would spring up like bamboo shoots after the rain.
But since he had seen it, accepted the commission, and taken the money, he should at least do something for the client.
Fujino gently