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The criminal slowly fades into the distance.
Looks like he really is heading toward the old factory district.
“Damn it!”
The foul curse slips off my tongue. I won’t be able to catch up when I’m this far behind. And he would no doubt repeat the crime if he is allowed to get away. It would put our client’s business at risk while even further damaging our detective agency’s image.
What should I do? What can I do?
“Well then, I think it’s about time we end this so I can go buy that book. We just need to slow him down, right?”
Dazai breaks into a smile.
Then he takes in a deep breath before yelling in a booming voice:
“Fire!!”
The townspeople immediately lunge into the streets in a panic, blocking the criminal’s path of escape. People nearby come rushing out in utter confusion: a woman holding a pot lid, a young man with sleepy eyes, an elderly fellow carrying his shogi board. People crowd the streets one after another, making it impossible to get by.
The criminal is at his wits’ end. The path is overrun with people, meaning going back is no longer an option, either. Verbal threats wouldn’t work against a crowd desperately searching for the fire, and an open door now further blocks the offender’s path of return.
“How’s that?”
“You idiot! Yes, you stopped him, but it doesn’t matter if we can’t get to him!”
“Sure we can! I mean, that’s why we have the skilled detective Doppo Kunikida with us, right? I set the stage, so now it’s your turn to show us what you’ve got.”
I’m going to sew those lips of yours shut before long!
I open my notebook and quickly jot something down. After ripping out the page with the words WIRE GUN inscribed, I infuse it with my will.
“The Matchless Poet!”
My special skill.
I don’t know how I do it, and I can’t logically explain how it works. All I can say is that’s just how it is. There is no rational explanation for why it has to be a page out of my notebook or how it can transform in spite of the laws of physics.
The sheet of paper transforms into a wire gun exactly as written. I leap onto a nearby fence before pointing the muzzle at the thief. That’s when I notice him reaching for a gun in his pocket to threaten the citizens blocking his way.
You know something is wrong with the world when even a lowlife crook in the outskirts of town has a gun.
At any rate, I can’t let him use it in such a densely populated area!
I aim, then pull the trigger. A harpoon-shaped hook shoots out toward the target with a steel wire trailing behind. Before the thief can even lift his arm completely, the hook knocks the gun out of his hand, then pierces his sleeve, tethering him to the wall behind.
“Jackpot.” Dazai offers a pathetic attempt at a whistle.
I reel in the steel wire while kicking off one fence and landing on another, repeating the movement to make my way forward. After jumping over the heads of the townspeople, I land right in front of the fugitive.
As I lift my head, he takes out a dagger he was hiding in his pocket. He swings the weapon not even three feet away, but the blade of an amateur has no chance of hitting me. I casually tilt my head to the side, then gently grab his elbow and wrist. With the help of his momentum, I twist his wrist while pushing the elbow in the opposite direction to send him flying into the air. He makes an arc in the sky before slamming upside down into the wall. His face contorts in surprise as if he doesn’t know what just happened. Then he falls to the ground and passes out.
It’s a throwing technique that uses the opponent’s momentum against them.
The area residents look back and forth between the thief and me in mute amazement. Soon after, Dazai finally catches up before addressing the crowd.
“Our sincere apologies for all the fuss, ladies and gentlemen. However, there is no longer any need to worry. Oh, and the fire was a false alarm.”
One resident speaks up. “J-just who are you people?”
