"Mr. Asou, the cemetery construction is complete."
"Drive up the property values in the surrounding area first. My real estate investments can't operate at a loss."
"Yes..."
"Any other questions?"
"Your side is the Port Mafia. Does the cemetery name have any special requirements?"
"It does."
The Port Mafia corporate slave, phone wedged between ear and shoulder, answered the construction supervisor who had contracted the cemetery project while busily reviewing assets in his spare moments: "Yokohama Diamond Cemetery. Only the wealthy and distinguished may reside within. I've already prepared the promotional slogan in advance—giving you a nine-star ocean-view residence."
Construction supervisor: "..."
The construction supervisor said with difficulty: "You certainly have a sense of humor."
Asou Akiya replied blandly: "Who's joking with you? I don't have much time. Hanging up."
He ended the call crisply and moved on to answer the next one. "Hello? This is the Port Mafia. Please do not make random solicitations for other services. What? A bank loan? We don't need that here, because our business conflicts with yours. We're in charge of issuing high-interest loans. Thank you."
He hadn't expected this era to already have so many nuisance calls—utterly unbearable, yet he couldn't blacklist all unfamiliar numbers. His profession inevitably involved receiving calls from unknown sources.
If he accidentally blacklisted the Boss, his career would essentially be over.
Compounded by the problems that arose during the Boss's illness, Asou Akiya was swamped with work throughout the spring. His brain, seeking to alleviate fatigue, would wander off on its own flights of fancy—now missing the ten-year-old Chuuya and fourteen-year-old Ranpo, now thinking of Randou who had joined the Port Mafia for his sake, wondering how long it would take for the other to "rehabilitate" back to Arthur Rimbaud's level of martial arts proficiency.
Why doesn't the Port Mafia allow office romances?
Whatever happened to office play, seeing each other every day during daylight hours?
And the result—
He couldn't even see him at the cafeteria during lunch breaks!
His French beauty, his favorite kitty, he longed to touch that soft skin and flowing hair.
After the first wave of enemy attacks concluded, the Port Mafia had intimidated the petty villains of the outside world. Ozaki Kouyou was dispatched by the Port Mafia Boss to Asou Akiya's side, sitting nearby reading novels. She witnessed Asou Akiya's private phone messaging behavior and couldn't be bothered to remind him, at most writing in her report: "This individual is deeply in love with his lover; the lover is his weakness."
As if that weren't obvious!
The Port Mafia Boss had known this long ago—it was merely rehashing old news.
"Kouyou-kun, no mentally complaining about me." Without lifting his head, Asou Akiya sent a text message to Randou, hastily stuffed his phone into his pocket, and continued filling out an investment form for the telecommunications industry.
Though he did not wish for the Port Mafia to reap long-term benefits, if he did not invest now, he would easily miss out on the conveniences of the era—Japan's development in the telecommunications sector was remarkably rapid. Next, he wrote down his reasoning for not investing in department stores but instead investing in convenience stores. For instance, in his previous life, convenience stores had blossomed everywhere—why not establish a twenty-four-hour Port Mafia convenience store in Yokohama?
Asou Akiya wrote down his earnest request: "The Port Mafia represents Yokohama's night. Give the mafia members burning the midnight oil a small shop where they can get a hot bento anytime, anywhere."
The reasoning was simply magnificent!
Most importantly, he was concerned about Randou's complexion. What if staying up late ruined his skin?
Wait, the skincare industry was worth considering too... There were skincare products for women, so why not for men? Spending fifteen minutes each day helping Randou apply a face mask would be lovely too!
Later, when the Port Mafia Boss reviewed his investment report, the anger gave him a stomachache. Had he not seen, amidst each individual investment, how exceptional the "Analyst's" vision was, he would have taken one look at these reasons and concluded the man was a philanthropist. And he kept claiming it was all for the Port Mafia members—yet beneath that layer of reasoning, why did he detect the sour stench of romance? This fellow was definitely spoiling his boyfriend!
The Port Mafia Boss erupted in violent coughing, grinding his teeth: "Approved."
As long as Asou Akiya could shine for the Port Mafia and earn enough money, he would endure it. Dog food was irrelevant. But absolutely under no circumstances could the Port Mafia's interests be sacrificed!
That was what he thought, yet why did he feel so particularly unwilling?
Money was very useful.
The person earning it was also very useful.
However, he had absolutely no desire to see the other's triumphant joy. He wished he could surgically remove the romance-obsessed portion of this subordinate's brain and make him a purely rational "Analyst."
On the other side, Asou Akiya had finished handling work matters and couldn't help but think of his son. The advantages of the large villa became apparent at this moment—so many rooms! No need to worry about Chuuya having nowhere to stay!
During one family dinner at the villa, Nakahara Chuuya successfully squeezed his way in, sitting beside Edogawa Ranpo in the identity of an orphan mentored by Asou Akiya and a half-student of Randou's. He was finally no longer an "outsider" in this household—he had his own place! Even if it was through the art of makeup!
"Ranpo's efforts show some improvement, but Chuuya is even more outstanding." Asou Akiya read aloud the works of both Ranpo and Chuuya, looking at the two of them, and specifically praised Nakahara Chuuya's progress.
Edogawa Ranpo wilted and said, "Still not as good as the little orange cat?"
How devastating!
Nakahara Chuuya suppressed his excitement, both hands clenched into fists and placed upon his knees. "I will continue striving harder!"
"Ranpo, the more professions you encounter, the more scattered your writing becomes." Asou Akiya expressed concern about Edogawa Ranpo's writing situation, saying, "If you wish to surpass Chuuya on this path, set aside your extraordinary 'Ability' and look at the outside world with an ordinary heart."
Edogawa Ranpo: "Akiya?"
"I'm lending this to you for a few days. Suppress your Ability and experience the world of normal people." Asou Akiya took out the black-rimmed glasses he had barely used from his pocket and placed them on Ranpo's nose bridge. The little fellow often secretly took his glasses and Randou's hats to play dress-up.
Nakahara Chuuya watched Ranpo with envy—he had actually received one of Papa's personal belongings.
Asou Akiya announced with a smile: "I'm assigning you an extracurricular task."
Under the gaze of the entire family, he drew in a slight breath and raised his volume, his words carrying different meanings for each person's ears: "Go investigate 'Arahabaki'!"
Nakahara Chuuya's entire body trembled.
Randou turned his head.
Arahabaki... Wasn't that a rumor circulating from Suribachi City?
"Arahabaki?" For the sake of his intense desire to express himself, Edogawa Ranpo immediately removed his glasses and activated his "Ability" to spoil the plot. "I see, Akiya must have heard the rumors from Suribachi City. Something about the resentment of dead soldiers attracting divine power, hellfire engulfing the military base, and causing casualties in the Yokohama foreign concession."
Before Nakahara Chuuya could feel pleased, Edogawa Ranpo poured cold water on him: "But this matter is completely false."
Asou Akiya said: "Before coming into contact with Abilities, did you know that Ability users existed in this world, Ranpo?"
Edogawa Ranpo replied stubbornly: "That's because I hadn't seen them!"
Nakahara Chuuya scoffed: "Everyone around you is an Ability user, and you still dare say you haven't seen any."
Edogawa Ranpo felt ashamed and shouted: "What's it to you!"
Asou Akiya interrupted their conversation, clapping his hands: "Stop. Listen to me. Before verifying the truth or falsehood, do not dismiss any piece of intelligence, even if it sounds like a joke. What if gods truly exist in this world?"
He cast an almost imperceptible glance at Nakahara Chuuya, who uncomfortably shrank back, silently praying that the other had not seen through his true circumstances.
Edogawa Ranpo muttered softly: "It's fake."
Asou Akiya raised an eyebrow. "Ranpo, you've been quite full of yourself lately. Are you no longer listening to me?"
Edogawa Ranpo shut his mouth.
Asou Akiya said: "Taking Aomori Prefecture, where 'Arahabaki' clay figurines were excavated, as your focal point, go there to search for clues. You have one week. I'll reimburse your travel expenses, but you are not permitted to eat nothing but junk snacks every single day—and I'm talking to you, Ranpo! In the end, each of you will write an investigative report on 'Arahabaki' for me. Whose is better, I will see at a glance. I will not give you the wrong score."
Randou developed a slight interest in "Arahabaki" and asked: "Where is Aomori Prefecture?"
Asou Akiya turned back to look at his wife, his dark eyes holding a peculiar gleam.
Randou could not help but feel somewhat captivated.
Akiya... Have you once again glimpsed the distant "future"? Have you seen something I do not know?
At this moment, this Asou Akiya was the Port Mafia Analyst known to outsiders.
"Randou, it's in the Tohoku region."