Chapter 18
It was the fifth day of Fan An’s shooting practice when she noticed someone spying on them from the darkness.
In two more days, the results of her practice would be presented on camera, to be judged by countless viewers.
Director Kawamura’s judgment had been flawless. Fan An had not let down her black hair, her black eyes, her black criminal suspect file, or the name bestowed upon her by her parents in heaven. She had quite a talent for firearms.
BANG!
The blank cartridge hit the bullseye. The girl flicked her fingers. “Ten points! Please call me the genius sharpshooter.”
“Alright, genius sharpshooter,” Hiromitsu Morofushi said with a smile, handing her a towel and a glass of water. “Are you tired? Do your hands hurt?”
No problem at all. An’an flashed a peace sign while biting on her straw to drink water, her gaze drifting intentionally and unintentionally towards the bass guitar case on Hiromitsu’s back.
When Hiromitsu moved left, her gaze drifted left. When Hiromitsu moved right, her gaze drifted right.
When Hiromitsu stood directly in front of her, her gaze… she went cross-eyed.
Hiromitsu: “Pfft!”
He laughed for a while under An’an’s reproachful stare, his chest vibrating with the sound.
Hiromitsu unzipped the bass case, revealing the sniper rifle inside. “Want to play?”
“Mhm, mhm!” An’an nodded like a pecking chicken.
The gun she had been using for practice these past few days was provided by Director Kawamura. It was a real gun, but the bullets weren’t real. It lacked that authentic joy.
Mentor Scotch’s gun was different. It was a proper sniper rifle. Even if you gave Director Kawamura eight hundred years, he wouldn’t be able to find a way to get one. An’an really wanted to play with it.
Hiromitsu Morofushi rarely let others touch his sniper rifle. A sniper was a solitary profession, wary and detached.
“Go ahead,” he said indulgently. “Just be careful. Don’t fire randomly. The flying shell casings might hurt you.”
A sniper rifle was completely different from a handgun. Under Mentor Scotch’s guidance, An’an changed her posture, holding the body of the gun with both hands.
“There’s no place to rest the gun nearby. Come over here,” Hiromitsu said, half-squatting and gesturing for An’an to rest the sniper rifle on his shoulder.
“Can I aim at the moon?” the dark-haired girl asked, her eyes shining. “How high can the bullet fly? Will it hit someone when it falls? If it hits someone, does that count as manslaughter?”
“You can aim at the moon. The bullet’s range is over 800 to 2000 meters. The shell casing won’t hit anyone when it falls… probably.”
Hiromitsu had answered the first two questions with some certainty. He had been very sure about the last one, but then he thought about Suspect An’s rich life experience and swallowed his words.
Don’t raise any flags. It’ll lead to misfortune.
Theoretically, the abandoned park was desolate and remote. An’an could fire randomly and not hit anyone. But how could one underestimate the bond between Suspect An and a homicide case?!
Hiromitsu shook his head, clearing the stray thoughts from his mind, and continued to correct the girl’s posture.
He paused.
Hiromitsu turned his head quickly, looking into the pitch-black darkness of the desolate woods where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.
“Is it my imagination?” he murmured.
A spying gaze seemed to be hidden in the darkness.
“What’s wrong?” An’an asked, her breath brushing against the young man’s cheek. Hiromitsu retracted his gaze.
“I think there’s someone in the woods,” he said in a low voice.
The moon in the scope wavered. A forest-green patch went from blurry to clear. The dark-haired girl pressed her eye to the scope and aimed at a tree trunk in the woods.
She pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The bullet left a white mark on the tree bark. The night wind blew, and a rustling sound came from the woods.
A weasel scurried out from the waist-high weeds and fled along the base of the wall.
“I probably saw wrong,” Hiromitsu said. “It’s getting late. That’s it for today’s practice. Let’s go back.”
An’an nodded. Hiromitsu slung the bass case over his back and followed her out of the abandoned park.
…
The bleak moonlight shone on the desolate park, the night wind blowing silently.
The nights in Nagano were much more harmonious than in Beika Town.
There were no unlicensed vans or burly men with stockings on their heads in front of jewelry stores. The utility poles were plastered with small scam ads instead of wanted posters. The high-rise buildings stood reassuringly, not exploding into fireworks at the drop of a hat.
The convenience store, which would have been closed at nightfall in Beika, was open 24/7 in Nagano, emitting a warm, orange glow into the night.
“Welcome.”
The night shift clerk at the 24-hour convenience store looked up from his manga magazine and saw two figures walking towards the shelves.
The clerk glanced at them casually and went back to his manga.
“Hello, I’d like to check out,” the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl said, handing over a bottle of strawberry milk and a pineapple bun. The clerk took the items and scanned them.
“Here’s your change.” The clerk expertly made change and bagged the items, watching the customer leave the convenience store. The sensor at the door chimed, “Please come again.”
“So the two customers who came in weren’t together,” the clerk mumbled, not thinking much of it, and went back to his manga.
It wasn’t until he had flipped to the last page of the magazine that the clerk reluctantly looked up from his manga. No one else had come to the checkout counter.
The sensor at the door had not chimed again.
The night shift clerk stood on his tiptoes and peered into the store, bewildered. There was only his own shadow on the floor.
“Is this place haunted?” the clerk shivered under the fluorescent lights.
No, no, maybe I saw wrong. Maybe only one customer came in from the beginning.
“I must have been looking down at my manga for too long. My eyes are playing tricks on me,” the clerk said, rubbing his sore neck. “When can I get off work…”
…
An’an returned to the hotel alone.
She walked at a steady pace, finishing her pineapple bun on the way, sipping her strawberry milk. She greeted the front desk lady before getting into the hotel elevator and chatted for a bit with the screenwriter, who was also out for a late-night snack.
Everyone at the hotel and on the film set knew that Fan An was a rookie actress, without an agent or an assistant, alone on the set, and was well taken care of by the director and his assistant.
“Logically speaking, no one should know about Hiro’s existence.”
An’an returned to her room. To outsiders, it looked like she was just lying on the sofa playing on her phone, but in reality, she was talking to Hiromitsu Morofushi in the Mentor Observation Room via her mind.
Before [My Respected Crime Mentor] had its version update, the original-skinned Hiromitsu couldn’t leave any record on any surveillance camera. He relied entirely on the ability’s space to evade detection.
If it weren’t for the fact that the Mentor Observation Room was only for mentors, An’an could have become rich overnight by smuggling people.
The disguised Hiromitsu was equally cautious.
He only appeared in the abandoned park. Every day after practicing with An’an, he would first return to the ability’s space, only coming out after they were in the hotel room.
When the mentor was recalled to the ability’s space, it was like he vanished into thin air. Every time An’an saw it, she would urge Hiromitsu to perform a magic show with her on stage one day. “It’s time to tell the world—Kaitou Kid is nothing special!”
She really had great ambitions for a career in entertainment.
The past few days, Hiromitsu had always transformed into a living person directly in the abandoned park. Today, however, he had followed behind An’an for a considerable distance, only being quietly recalled to the ability’s space after entering a blind spot in the convenience store’s surveillance.
After returning to the hotel room, Hiromitsu had taken the initiative to say that she shouldn’t let him out, that she shouldn’t act like there was a second person in the room.
“This way, it creates the illusion that Hiro and I separated at the convenience store and his whereabouts are unknown.”
“Do you think the person spying in the darkness was after you?” she asked.
Hiromitsu’s brow furrowed. After a long time, he spoke. “No, it’s also possible that I’m just being too sensitive.”
The feeling of being watched had only lasted for a moment. The park had been abandoned for a long time, and the overgrown trees looked like slender, ghostly figures. It wasn’t impossible to mistake them for human figures at night.
Hiromitsu had been walking around in his disguised form. He was certain that his appearance, body shape, voice, and even his walking posture were completely different from before.
There was no reason for “Hiromitsu Morofushi” to be targeted.
“I’m just a little worried,” he sighed softly. “I hope it was my imagination.”
The sudden interlude had broken the peace of the past few days, but nothing happened that night.
The next day, An’an followed the director to the set to observe and learn. The entire day was peaceful.
“My scene is tomorrow. Tonight is the last practice session. Are we still going to practice shooting?”
In the hotel elevator, An’an pressed the floor button and asked Hiromitsu in her mind.
She had kept her external vision open all day. Hiromitsu hadn’t felt that spying gaze around An’an again.
Had the person given up?
Or was it really just his imagination?
Hiro was silent for a long time. An’an said understandingly, “If you’re worried about danger, we’ll stay in the hotel tonight. If Hiro doesn’t want his reputation in the education world to be ruined and wants me to cram for one more night, we’ll go to the park to practice.”
As for how to deal with the spy in the park, An’an had already thought of a plan. She could set the Nagano police emergency number as speed dial 1 and bring her outdoor live-streaming equipment.
Any demons or monsters would be burned to ashes in the fiery traffic of the live stream. An’an would conduct an exploration live stream, a paranormal live stream, or a crime scene live stream, depending on the situation.
Thanks to Silver-Haired Model Bro for giving me the inspiration for live-streaming. My deepest gratitude!
“An’an doesn’t need to cram at the last minute. You’re already very good,” Hiromitsu Morofushi said seriously. “You’re the best class I’ve ever taught.”
An’an asked happily, “Really?”
Really, because Hiromitsu had only ever taught her.
But An’an’s talent was indeed outstanding, and she was very serious during practice. His praise was sincere.
“Let’s stay in the hotel tonight,” Hiromitsu suggested. “No matter what, it’s safer in the hotel.”
Beep. The room was opened with a key card.
The hotel’s housekeeping staff cleaned the room every day, returning everything to its original state and delivering the day’s snack or fruit.
What are we eating today? An’an walked towards the coffee table with anticipation.
She didn’t see any snacks, nor did she see any fruit.
Only a bottle of liquor was placed quietly on the coffee table.
Is it an adult-only party tonight? An’an wondered.
“Don’t touch that bottle!”
Hiromitsu’s voice was suddenly tense.
The light from the ceiling shone on the coffee table. The liquor in the bottle swirled with a brownish-red hue, clear and transparent, as if one could smell the smoky, charred aroma.
Cursive English letters were printed on the bottle:
Scotch Whisky
Underneath the bottle of Scotch whisky was a letter.
[I know your secret, ghost of Scotch.]