Nightfall, Misaki City.
Intent on broadening Touko Aozaki's horizons, Samael followed the food recommendations in a travel guide and enthusiastically led the creditor behind him into an extravagantly decorated dessert shop near the shopping street, becoming its last customers before closing.
The ancient serpent glanced around the quiet surroundings in satisfaction, then raised a hand and lightly tapped on the counter.
At that moment, the young clerk, who had been slacking off behind the partition and reading a novel during work hours, jolted at the sound. Her hand shook, and the evidence of her slacking flew straight out, over the counter, and into Samael's arms.
I'm doomed!
The girl with purple hair, brown eyes, and black-framed glasses on her nose stiffened, her clear eyes widening into round stares.
The ancient serpent had excellent eyesight. A glance across the cover was enough for him to catch the full name of the "evidence."
"Twenty Faces Man? So it's a book by Edogawa Ranpo..."
"Ah! You know Edogawa Ranpo?"
The girl looked at the man before her in surprise and excitement.
For ordinary British and American readers, genuine detective fiction was more popular than supernatural tales. Japan, however, was the opposite: true detective fiction was limited to a small audience, while strange tales enjoyed an overwhelming majority of readers. For a mystery fan, meeting a customer who could directly name the author was simply an unexpected delight.
"The father of Japanese detective fiction. Anyone who likes mystery novels should know at least a little about him."
Samael smiled and casually returned the book in his arms to its owner.
As the father of Japanese detective fiction, Edogawa Ranpo had nearly a hundred works to his name. Naturally, the ancient serpent had no time to read every single one.
Still, he was fairly familiar