After completing their previous bodyguard mission, in the back seat of the taxi, Ranpo Edogawa looked bored, his eyes wandering around as if he were a child full of curiosity about the world. As they passed by a small park, he suddenly glanced at a bench where two teenagers were sitting, each holding a cup of instant noodles.

“Eating instant noodles, huh? Seems delicious…”

As a fellow snack enthusiast, Ranpo Edogawa rubbed his hungry stomach, lost in thought.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, focusing on the black-haired teenager to the right, and he instinctively grabbed Fukuzawa Yukichi’s arm.

Fukuzawa Yukichi, dressed in a kimono and holding a sword, turned back in confusion. “Ranpo?”

“President, look over there!”

Ranpo Edogawa exclaimed, having learned a bit of common sense under Fukuzawa’s guidance.

But as the taxi drove away from the road next to the park, Fukuzawa Yukichi only caught a glimpse of some shadows, confirming they were two unfamiliar teenagers who appeared much younger than Ranpo, who was eighteen this year.

“Is there a problem?” Fukuzawa Yukichi asked cautiously, not daring to underestimate Ranpo’s intellect.

Ranpo Edogawa’s green eyes widened as he stared blankly out of the open car window, seemingly quite shocked.

“That person…”

“Who?”

“The black-haired boy with the ponytail… Humans are really resilient.”

He spoke in a low voice, and what he said not only startled Fukuzawa Yukichi but also the driver.

“President, why do some people, even without skin, limbs, sight, hearing, or smell, still want to survive? Is this what Mom and Dad called ‘will to live’?”

Ranpo Edogawa didn’t understand, but witnessing it gave him some insight into human nature.

“He wants to live.”

“But the person next to him wants to die…”

One person seeks survival, while the other seeks death—how could such a strange combination exist in this world?

“Driver, stop the car!” Fukuzawa Yukichi shouted loudly, causing the driver to slam on the brakes. Having retired from the assassin profession and chosen to help others, Fukuzawa Yukichi misunderstood Ranpo Edogawa’s intention, opened the car door, and called out to the bewildered Ranpo, “Let’s go save them!”

Ranpo Edogawa, exhausted from his physical exertion, couldn’t catch his breath during the subsequent dragged run, unable to speak. What he wanted to say was—————

【If we don’t go, they’ll come to us on their own anyway!】

【Please…】

【Please… Slow down a bit… Ranpo is about to die from a hundred-meter sprint…】

Upon reaching their destination…

A sigh escaped from Ranpo Edogawa’s mouth, his face filled with despair, while Fukuzawa Yukichi, wearing a serious expression, approached the two individuals. However, the black-haired youth holding the cup noodles suddenly became alert.

His hand rested on the sword hilt.

Ranpo Edogawa forced his way through, spreading his arms to shield the bewildered Fukuzawa Yukichi.

“Don’t move! He’s a good person!”

Hyakki stopped forcefully after Ranpo Edogawa’s intervention.

Ranpo Edogawa’s explanation wasn’t directed at Hyakki but at Dazai  , who could make decisions. However, as Dazai blew on his hot soup and glanced at the two inexplicably running individuals, he spoke with his usual fast-paced manner, “Does being a good person who’s killed count?”

Ranpo Edogawa spoke firmly, “Of course it does! President has saved many people, and those he’s killed were all bad people!”

Dazai couldn’t be bothered. “Carry on.”

Justice comes after the deed is done.

Ranpo Edogawa pointed at him indignantly, his green eyes cold and rational. “He has multiple disabilities. Do you want to help treat him? We have a clinic!”

“Huh?”

Dazai finally paid attention to the other person.

Ranpo Edogawa tugged at Fukuzawa Yukichi’s kimono sleeve, creating a safe distance, then, panting, said, “President, give him a business card. We can’t trust people like him without thorough investigation. Let’s leave, or he might attack you directly…”

Fukuzawa Yukichi regarded the indifferent black-haired youth solemnly. As fellow skilled swordsmen, he could discern that the black-haired youth was a formidable opponent, so he agreed with Ranpo’s judgment.

Fukuzawa Yukichi handed a business card to Dazai sitting opposite him, without assuming a superior attitude.

“If you need help, be sure to contact us.”

Based solely on Ranpo Edogawa’s words, he made a decision.

That’s trust!

Dazai sensed the sincerity in Fukuzawa’s tone as he took the business card. Suddenly, his indifferent demeanor changed, as the card revealed the identity of the person in front of him—not very well-known in Yokohama but possessing significant influence.

【Armed Detective Agency】

【President, Fukuzawa Yukichi】

The Armed Detective Agency… the only organization in Yokohama with a “Special Ability Business License.”

“Our clinic’s doctor is called Yosano Akiko,” Ranpo Edogawa said, calming his rapid breathing, and uttered the most crucial words.

“Have you heard of her?” The renowned detective, proud and confident, whose reputation spread widely in police circles, pierced through Dazai with his gaze. Meeting for the first time, they subtly engaged in a contest of wills. Ranpo didn’t want the Armed Detective Agency to be underestimated by Dazai.

“Dr. Yosano is with us.”

Ranpo Edogawa wiped the sweat from his forehead, his childish heart thinking, Mr. Fukuzawa, please rest assured. After snatching away the first person, we can strive to snatch the second and third! If we can recruit those who were not accepted by the Port Mafia, the Armed Detective Agency will win!

After a moment of silence, Dazai nodded slightly. “If nothing unexpected happens, I will visit.”

Ranpo Edogawa corrected, “It’s you guys. Don’t treat him as your possession. The person my president and I mainly want to see is the one next to you.”

Fukuzawa Yukichi remained silent, tacitly agreeing with Ranpo’s statement.

Dazai instinctively resisted Ranpo Edogawa’s sharpness but found it acceptable.

“Well then, goodbye.”

He tossed the cup noodles into the trash bin and dragged Hyakki away, wondering why even walking outside could attract such people. Perhaps Hyakki naturally exuded an aura of attention-grabbing ability.

That’s all in the past.

Hyakki belongs to him now, and it’s not for you two strangers to take away.

At that moment, Hyakki’s intuitive sensitivity came into play once again. He tentatively held “her” hand, wanting to convey his protective intentions towards “her.” Dazai stiffened for a moment, then reluctantly agreed, his hand feeling somewhat uncomfortable being held.

The cold palm had to rely on his warmth to comfort it.

Where could there be such a hand-holding…

“Hyakki.”