Chapter 8
Fan An was counting her money.
She squatted by the side of the road and counted it three times. A patrolling police officer passed by her three times. Finally, she stood up.
Patrolling Officer: The suspect has entered a combat stance. What is she about to do? (grips his baton)
The dark-haired girl’s eyes were jet-black as she raised her head and stared intently at her destination—
Beika Real Estate!
“Hello.” Fan An’s shadow fell over the agent behind the counter, making him seem incredibly small. She spoke slowly.
“Hello. I’d like to rent an apartment.”
In front of Fan An, the agent’s hand, halfway to dialing the police, retracted. Behind her, the patrolling officer’s baton, halfway raised, was lowered. A pair of awkward coughs came from in front of and behind her.
“Is it the flu?” she asked with concern. “Having to work while you’re sick… life in the big city really is tough.”
“Ahem, you’re too kind, miss,” the agent said, regaining his professional composure. “Welcome to Beika Real Estate. We have every listing in Beika Town at our fingertips. What kind of place are you looking for?”
An’an answered in a flash: “A cheap one.”
The rent had to be low. The environment just needed to be slightly better than a bridge underpass. She was incredibly resilient.
“You’re joking, miss. How could we possibly let a customer sleep under a bridge?” the agent said with a disapproving expression. “What’s wrong with a low budget? Even with a low budget, you can live in a high-end apartment.”
An’an: For real?
Agent: For real, for real.
“These are all high-end apartments, with rent at only around 30,000 yen,” the agent said, picking up a thick stack of listings and introducing them one by one.
“This one, rent is only 32,000 yen. South-facing room, excellent lighting, five years old, separate wet and dry areas in the bathroom. The landlord is very easy to talk to, no security deposit or key money required.”
“This one is even more affordable, only 28,000 yen. Located in a commercial district, a school district property. Also no deposit required, move-in ready.”
“And this one, 26,000 yen…”
The listings the agent presented were more affordable than the last, which made Fan An ask the question burning in her mind: “So, what’s the catch?”
The incessant introduction paused for a moment. The agent rubbed his hands together and pulled out a liability waiver.
“You just have to sign the waiver,” the agent said with a simple-minded smile. “Our company promises to rent the property to you at a low price, and you promise not to sue us for any accidents you encounter during your tenancy.”
“Types of accidents include, but are not limited to: smelling the stench of a corpse from under your bed while sleeping, discovering flesh with clotted blood in the shower drain while cleaning, being unable to wipe away bloodstains from the cracks in the floor, finding small items left by the previous tenant such as teeth and fingernails in drawers, etc.”
“If you can accept all of the above and have already purchased accidental death insurance, please sign the waiver, and we can go view the properties immediately.”
An’an had not purchased insurance.
It wasn’t that she lacked a sense of crisis, but insurance in Beika Town was just too expensive, and the conditions were extremely strict.
Take property insurance, for example. The insurance company explicitly stated that “destruction of the house by a bomb” was not covered. The salesperson argued forcefully, “The houses in Beika Town are built to be blown up from the very beginning! It’s their destiny! The fact that our company is willing to operate in Beika is already the height of benevolence. Do you really want us to go bankrupt? How cruel!”
As for accidental death insurance, the moment most insurance salespeople heard your registered address was in Beika Town, they would bolt out the door and swim back to their company headquarters via Tokyo Bay.
Only the insurance companies under the Suzuki Group, the Akashi Conglomerate, and the Atobe Group were willing to provide accidental death insurance services to Beika Town residents.
(T/N: References to Sonoko Suzuki (Detective Conan), and the absurdly wealthy families from “Kuroko’s Basketball” and “The Prince of Tennis.”)
The first was because the young lady of the Suzuki family lived in Beika. The latter two… were probably just rich.
Whimsical rich people.jpg
If she had a choice, An’an wouldn’t want to live in a “stigmatized property” either. She took one look at the listings for “clean” properties and was immediately scalded by the price.
Rent: 150,000 yen. 20 years old. Wooden structure. Total area of only 4.5 tatami mats. Mold in several places. No bathroom or toilet. Three months’ rent required for deposit and three months for key money.
Agent: “Don’t look down on this place. It’s in very high demand. Snooze, you lose.”
Before the agent could finish, another Beika resident looking to rent slapped a thick wad of cash on the counter. “Cut the crap. I’ll take it.”
The two quickly signed the contract and handed over the keys. Fan An watched as the agent smugly slapped an “RENTED” sign on the listing for the super-rare clean property.
He shook his head at An’an, lecturing her. “What did I tell you? What do you mean, expensive? Clean properties have always been this price. Don’t just spout nonsense. It’s tough being a real estate agent in Beika. Reflect on yourself. Think about your own situation. Has your salary increased over the years? Have you been working diligently? Sigh, young people these days.”
The girl didn’t respond. She watched the tenant’s retreating back and twitched her nose.
“The fresh scent of blood.”
The agent didn’t hear her clearly. “What did you say?”
It didn’t matter if he didn’t hear. The radio on the counter faithfully reported on all the major and minor events in the Beika real estate market.
“Latest news: The murder case in the shopping mall bathroom, which was opened just half an hour ago, has been solved by a passing detective. The suspect was apprehended in his newly rented apartment. He had hidden parts of the victim’s body under the tatami mats. The police caught him red-handed.”
“According to the suspect’s confession, the apartment he rented was a clean property. Another tragedy has occurred. The number of stigmatized properties in Beika Town continues to rise. The property tainted by the suspect will now see an epic price drop…”
Another agent answered a phone call, walked over, and fed the 150,000 yen listing into a paper shredder, replacing it with a new one.
Fan An looked down: a zero had been added in front of the 150,000 yen rent.
It was now only 1,500 yen.
She sympathetically patted the shoulder of the agent, who looked like his world had ended. “Don’t be too sad. There will be more clean properties.”
Agent: (sobbing) “No, there won’t be! The rising property prices in Beika must be a conspiracy by the God of Death!”
Amidst the agent’s sobs, An’an unexpectedly received a phone call.
“Cousin An’an!” The familiar hometown accent made her feel a sense of warmth. “Mom told me you came to Beika to make a living. Is it true?”
It was Cousin Hanzawa!
An’an had come to Beika alone precisely to lessen the burden on her cousin’s family. She was a mature adult now. She could support herself.
“Don’t worry about me,” An’an said optimistically. “My new job is going well, and I’m looking for a place to live right now.”
Hearing his cousin’s cheerful voice on the phone, Mr. Hanzawa couldn’t help but recall the happy times playing with Cousin An’an back home.
The sky back home was blue, the crime rate was low, people didn’t just drop dead on the streets, and his cute cousin who used to chase him around was holding a knife…
Even after finishing her part-time job at the slaughterhouse, she would immediately come play with her cousin. Our An’an is such a thoughtful, good child.
Hearing that Cousin An’an was looking for a place, Mr. Hanzawa thought of his own difficult apartment-hunting experience when he first came to Beika. He had been short on cash back then too, unable to afford a clean property but too scared to live in a terrifying stigmatized one.
“There’s a way to enjoy the low prices of a stigmatized property without having to face its horrors alone,” An’an received her cousin’s advice. “Have you considered getting a roommate?”
A roommate?
An’an fell into deep thought.
Her left ear was pressed to the phone. Her cousin said, “Roommates are great. If you ever want to… do something, your roommate can provide you with an alibi. Or you could just go all in and frame your roommate…”
Her right ear was facing the radio. The broadcast said, “Murdering a roommate due to conflicts arising from cohabitation has consistently been one of the top ten most popular motives for crime in Beika Town…”
Both her left and right ears made very good points. An’an decided to get a third opinion.
She asked the crime mentor living in the Mentor Observation Room, “Mentor Scotch, what do you think?”
Hiromitsu Morofushi: “Huh?”
An’an had granted him partial vision, allowing him to see the current housing prices and property situation in Beika from within the ability’s space. To which Hiromitsu only wanted to ask:
How many years have I been dead?
I seem to remember the housing situation in Beika being quite normal when I was alive.
The crime mentor, who had fallen behind the times, couldn’t give any specific advice. An’an decided to listen to her cousin.
It’s just a roommate. Nothing bad should happen… right?
…
Before night fell, An’an chose a shared house and moved in with her luggage.
So much had happened today. She was exhausted. Hiromitsu really wanted to have a proper talk with the girl and gather some intel, but he considerately let her rest first.
Him: We can talk after she’s settled in.
At that moment, Hiromitsu Morofushi had no idea what a flag he had just raised.
The next day, after a good night’s sleep, Fan An woke up famished.
She rubbed her eyes, washed up, and, yawning, walked into the shared house’s kitchen to make herself breakfast.
“I’ll have some century egg and pork congee,” An’an remembered putting the fresh meat she’d brought from home into the communal fridge last night.
The shared house provided utensils. With a professional eye, the girl selected the sharpest kitchen knife, weighed it skillfully, and walked to the fridge.
She pulled open the door.
Her roommate stared at her in terror.
Her roommate, whom she had only met once yesterday, was curled up in the fridge, his eyes bulging as he stared at her.
Fan An and her ashen-faced roommate stared at each other. She raised her hand and placed it under her roommate’s nostrils.
Wow. No breathing at all.
“Excuse me!” The front door of the shared house was opened, and the real estate agent came in with the contract. “Miss Fan An, how was your trial stay yesterday? We agreed to sign the contract today—AAAAAAAAAH! SOMEONE’S DEAD!”
Fan An chased after him with the kitchen knife. “Wait a minute! I’m innocent!”
The agent, while fleeing, glanced back and saw the sharp, glinting knife. Tears streamed from his eyes. “Don’t kill me! I didn’t mean to raise the agent’s fee! Spare me!”
Fan An: “So that’s why the agent’s fee was so high! You even cheat money from the poor! You heartless bastard, get back here!”
…
“A body hidden in the fridge of a shared house! Suspect An discovered her roommate’s body this morning. At the time of the incident, Suspect An was holding a kitchen knife. The police detected the victim’s DNA on the knife. The eyewitness, Mr. Agent, insists that Suspect An is the perpetrator. Suspect An appears emotionally agitated and seems to have a financial dispute with the agent. Could this be her motive? Mr. Mouri, what is your deduction?”
The great Detective Mouri fell asleep. The great Detective Mouri, once again using his mysterious ventriloquism, delivered a brilliant deduction, clearing Suspect An’s name.
Leaving the police station, Fan An dragged her luggage and, once again, arrived at Beika Real Estate.
She switched to a different shared house and moved in again.
The next day.
“A suicide in the storage room of a shared house! Suspect An discovered her roommate’s body in the storage room of the shared house at noon today. The body was in a state of suicide. However, the deceased’s boyfriend insists it was not a suicide but a homicide: ‘We were just discussing our wedding date yesterday, and a day later she’s gone… I don’t believe it! Someone must have killed her!’ Suspect An, who lived next door to the deceased, becomes the prime suspect. What is the truth? Let’s hear from Detective Mouri!”
Leaving the police station once again, Fan An dragged her luggage and, for the third time, stepped into Beika Real Estate.
She switched to yet another shared house. The next day…
There was no next day. That very evening, Fan An, holding her toiletries, discovered the drowned body of a roommate in the bathtub of the public bathroom.
She calmly dialed Inspector Megure’s number. “Hello, this is Suspect An.”
An’an was calm. She was far from breaking down. She could keep moving.
Beika Real Estate, however, could not. The agent had truly broken down. He blocked Fan An’s path, snot and tears streaming down his face. “Please, have mercy! Spare us!”
There were no more suitable listings here for An’an. She thought, “Should I try a different agency?”
Hiromitsu Morofushi didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had probably been blacklisted by every real estate agency in Beika Town.
He could understand the agent’s mental breakdown. In fact, his own mental state was a bit shaky. Hiromitsu had wanted to have a proper talk with the girl after she settled down, but who could have predicted that she would never have a moment to settle?
Hiromitsu: I know this isn’t the best thing to say, but have you considered changing your name to improve your luck?
How could one person be so unlucky?!
Hiromitsu hadn’t planned on saying anything, but now there was no other choice.
An’an got an address from Mentor Scotch.
“It should be a clean property, and the price is very reasonable,” Hiromitsu said, choosing his words carefully, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
The girl didn’t guard herself around him much, so Hiromitsu had been able to learn the current date.
Four years had passed since his death. So much had changed. Even his closest friends might look different now.
Regardless, even if his hopes were dashed, at least the girl could find a place to stay and wouldn’t have to keep moving.
….
The Trojan Horse Apartments at 29, 5-chome, Beika Town, welcomed a new resident.
The apartment manager finished the registration, handed the key to the new resident, and after completing the move-in procedures, it was time for him to get off work.
“It’s been a while since we had a new resident. After all, our apartment doesn’t have a contract with any agencies. You only know about this place through word-of-mouth,” the manager muttered to himself. “I wonder who introduced the new resident, Miss Fan An?”
He didn’t know. It was the resident’s privacy. He couldn’t lose his job over gossip.
The apartment manager pushed the small question to the back of his mind. He was eager to get off work and go home, his steps hurried.
The hurrying manager brushed past a white Mazda. The Mazda RX-7 drove straight into the Trojan Horse Apartments’ parking lot and pulled into a space.
The car door opened. A blond, dark-skinned young man looked up at the apartment building, accurately locating his own unit number.
His workday over, Amuro Tooru returned to his current residence.