14 Fourteen

Page 1/3

Accompanied by the blaring alarm, Su Yiming groaned softly, frowning as he struggled to open his eyes. He reached out and turned off the noisy alarm, then sat up and rubbed his throbbing temples.

He seemed to have drunk too much last night, and it appeared that the person he met at the bar was the one who brought him home.

Su Yiming rubbed his face, his memory fragmented. His tolerance for alcohol wasn’t so low that a single glass of brandy would knock him out; perhaps something had been added to that drink.

Massaging his temples, Su Yiming got up and grabbed a glass of water, quenching his dry throat. Gradually, his groggy mind began to clear.

He swallowed the cold water and his eyes flickered. He suddenly remembered where he had seen that young man before.

At the detective agency below his office building.

Private detective agencies are common in Neon City; after all, many people need to gather evidence for lawsuits, and a lot of sordid secrets require discreet intervention.

If that young man belonged to the detective agency, it wouldn’t be strange for Su Yiming to have contact with him, especially since he was accompanied by a particularly unusual fellow.

But who would hire a detective to investigate Tomie…?

Su Yiming changed his clothes and looked at his reflection in the mirror—dressed in a suit, with a handsome face and a cold expression. His cyan eyes were hidden behind the lenses.

His phone rang. Someone was calling him.

He glanced at the screen; it was an international call from an unknown number.

“Hello, what’s the matter?” Su Yiming grabbed his briefcase, locked the door, and headed to the company. Around him, hurried office workers passed by. Like them, he was ordinary and rushed.

“I heard you’ve been having trouble lately,” a heavily accented voice sounded in his ear—it was his reckless father.

Su Yiming resisted rolling his eyes. “Who told you that? I’m fine. How are you and Mom over there?”

“Well, I heard Yokohama has been quite chaotic recently, so I called to check on you. Your mother and I surf every day now; we’re much happier than you, the corporate slave.”

Su Yiming twitched his mouth, gritting his teeth. “Then I really have to thank you for remembering your son. If you know Yokohama’s chaotic, don’t let Mom come back.”

“Of course. As a knight, I wouldn’t let my princess risk herself,” the man scoffed disdainfully, and Su Yiming could easily imagine his arrogant expression.

“Save your sweet talk for Mom—I don’t want to be fed your lovey-dovey stuff,” Su Yiming lazily retorted. He was used to his parents showing affection in front of him.

But soon, he sensed something was off.

The chaos in Yokohama was caused by underground forces. Ordinary citizens’ lives remained normal, as the local government was adept at covering it up. If not for Tomie, Su Yiming wouldn’t have noticed anything.

Just like Takidani Makoto and Kobayashi: even if they overheard bits and pieces, they wouldn’t care. At most, they’d go home earlier; the underground forces in Yokohama didn’t affect them at all.

If they weren’t affected, naturally they wouldn’t care.

So the question arose: Why would his ordinary photographer father, so far away in Italy, know about the unrest in Yokohama?

Stopping amid the crowd, Su Yiming saw the familiar office building. Outside the armed detective agency downstairs, a bespectacled youth was furiously grabbing the collar of the young man from the bar, shaking him hard.

Lowering his gaze, Su Yiming felt a chill.

Unless… his supposedly ordinary father was not ‘ordinary’ in this world.

It seemed Su Yiming’s prolonged silence had alerted the man on the other end of the phone. The middle-aged man’s lazy voice came again, “Oh, should I be happy that my grown-up son finally realizes his old man isn’t an ordinary guy?”

Su Yiming cursed inwardly. Damn it, this isn’t my fault! You really were just an ordinary guy before! You even wanted to be a kept man when you first met Mom!

Then after crossing over, you tell me the old man I thought was a kept man might have a ‘mob’ past? What kind of ridiculous setup has this damn world arbitrarily added after I crossed over?

“I thought you were just a photographer,” Su Yiming said dryly, his mind a little muddled.

“Oh, of course I am. Photography is my main profession! No one can stop me from being a photographer!”

The middle-aged man spoke indignantly, as if Su Yiming’s suspicion hurt him deeply.

Page 2/3

“Alright, as long as you’re happy,” Su Yiming’s mouth twitched. Yes, it was still his eccentric old man.

“Come on, son, I know you’re cursing me in your heart. I’m retired now; I don’t manage anything anymore. I just happened to hear some news. Anyway, stay safe. You can come to Italy anytime.”

Su Yiming smiled faintly. “I know. If your legs were thick enough, I wouldn’t mind holding onto them.”

“You brat, I’m hanging up. Your mother’s calling me for a photo shoot.”

On Sicily Island, Italy, the Italian man hung up and eagerly ran to the seaside with his camera to photograph a very beautiful and graceful woman.

Time had left some traces on the woman, but it only enhanced her charm instead of diminishing her beauty.

The middle-aged yet still handsome Italian man praised loudly as he took pictures. The woman, satisfied, walked over to look at the photos with him.

“This place is really nice. I’m thinking of settling down here,” the woman said contentedly, looking at the pictures her husband took. Having a photographer for a husband meant she never had to worry about not getting good shots.

The man shrugged. “Of course, my dear. You know I’m Italian by birth—this is my hometown.”

Su Yiming’s mother rolled her eyes at the man. “Come on, if it weren’t for your friend, we wouldn’t have even gotten in here.” The man scratched his nose and glanced toward the black-suited guards standing nearby.

“But a private beach is great—no one else to disturb us,” she said, holding her face with delight as she looked at the photos. These pictures would allow her to produce two photo albums.

“Who were you talking to on the phone just now?” she finally turned her attention to her poor husband.

He shrugged. “Our son. You know, last time you called, I was barbecuing. As his father, I feel it’s necessary to check on how he’s doing lately.”

“True enough. He’s young but lives like an old man—it’s exhausting just to watch him,” she nodded. The man made a face. Oh, that kind of personality is considered ‘capable of great responsibility’ by some people.

“But I didn’t expect to meet a fellow countryman here,” she said, holding her husband’s hand as they strolled on the beach. The man raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

She rolled her eyes. “The day you weren’t around, I met a young man at the hotel—also from Neon City. He’s quite handsome.”

The man sneered. “Handsome as me when I was young? Dear, you know I was a famous pretty boy in my youth.”

“I know, so what are you jealous about? He’s about the same age as Su Yiming—still a kid.”

Su Yiming’s mother squeezed her husband’s hand. “Seems like the company sent him here on a business trip. He’s a nice, helpful kid named Nakahara Chuya.”

The man blinked. Wasn’t that the kid the port mafia sent to establish relations with them recently? Though he was ‘retired’ now, the Inner Circle of the Purgatory mafia still kept him well-informed.

“Alright, nice name,” the man said, skipping the topic. “Have you decided what to eat tonight, dear?”

“Not yet. Let’s think together.”

——————————————

After hanging up, Su Yiming stopped in front of the armed detective agency. Kunugida, noticing the crowd, awkwardly loosened Dazai Osamu’s collar, clenched his fist, cleared his throat, and said calmly, “Hello, may I help you?”

Before Su Yiming could speak, Dazai Osamu adjusted his collar and spoke first, “He’s here for me. Kunugida, don’t be so narcissistic.” Kunugida’s temple veins bulged. If Su Yiming weren’t there, he might have punched Dazai.

Dazai put his hands in his pockets and walked up to Su Yiming, wearing a formulaic smile. “This isn’t the place to talk. Let’s go over there.”

It had to be said, Dazai still looked reliable when not acting silly.

Su Yiming nodded and followed Dazai into a café.

After sitting down, a girl with red hair tied into twin tails, dressed in work clothes, approached and handed them menus. She apparently knew Dazai well, and Su Yiming noticed their exchanged glances.

“A latte, please,” Su Yiming casually ordered. Dazai smiled and ordered the same. After the red-haired girl left, Su Yiming’s gaze fixed on Dazai.

“I think I have the right to know some of the truth, Mr. Dazai,” Su Yiming said, no longer caring that the young man shared a name with a famous literary figure. In this world, there were no such celebrities; names didn’t matter.

Dazai smiled warmly, resting his chin on the back of his hand. “Of course. I apologize, Mr. Su, I wasn’t originally here for you. Please forgive my intrusion.”

Su Yiming nodded faintly. “I understand. I want to know the truth too.”

Page 3/3

Dazai’s smile broadened. He had thought this man was just an ignorant victim kept in the dark, knowing nothing. But now, that seemed unlikely.

“We were asked to investigate Tsuji Sen, and because we were missing some clues, we approached you,” Dazai said with a businesslike, troubled expression.

Su Yiming studied Dazai’s face but saw no sign of deceit.

Lowering his eyes, Su Yiming slowly spoke, “I don’t know much either. He just stays at my place sometimes. Well, most of the time, he doesn’t live here.”

Dazai pretended to nod seriously. “Has he shown any abnormalities?”

“Abnormal? Of course.”

The red-haired girl brought the coffee, placed it down, bowed slightly, and left.

“What kind?” Dazai immediately pressed, looking like a detective who had caught a lead.

Su Yiming lifted his eyelids and met Dazai’s violet eyes. “Resurrection.”

——————————————

In a warehouse dungeon, several captured men were locked up. Interrogation wasn’t Ryunosuke Akutagawa’s responsibility, so after giving a few orders, the thin young man left.

A few men, with crazed and delirious expressions, curled in the corners of the cell. Their bloodshot eyes darted nervously as they muttered incoherent words.

No one dared approach them for now. Their condition was clearly abnormal, and it was unlikely that any information could be extracted from them.

Ozaki Kureha glanced over, and Nakahara Chuya, having nothing to do, followed.

Looking at the already insane men, Ozaki sighed with regret, “They’ve gone mad. Even if forced to speak, we can’t guarantee the truth.”

Nakahara pressed down his hat. “Tch, what a hassle. I wonder what they saw to become like this.”

“Chuya-kun, they’re probably psychic ability users. Even the port mafia’s interrogation rooms can’t drive people mad this quickly.”

Ozaki signaled a guard to open the cell door. The man curled in the corner trembled slightly. His body was emaciated, as if the flesh and blood were being drained away.

After observing the man, Ozaki shook his head disappointedly. “Let’s go, Chuya-kun. We’ll have to report this to the boss.”

The captured men had provided no clues, and even Mori Ōgai would have a headache over this.

Nakahara cast one last glance at the man before leaving the cell. A flicker of curiosity passed through his cobalt-blue eyes, if only for a moment.

He sensed a faint yet lingering sense of danger from the man.

The cell door closed again, and silence fell. The man curled up in the corner stirred, carefully propping himself up and revealing his abdomen.

With a mad expression, the man obsessively rubbed his belly. “Tomie, Tomie, I can feel you growing inside me. It’s alright, it’s okay to eat me. You have to grow up strong.”

The guard at the door heard the sounds and looked inside. Seeing the man stroking his own belly, disgust twisted his face.

The man’s posture and expression resembled a woman who had just discovered she was pregnant.

Originally, the guard thought the man was feigning madness and foolishness to cover something, but the scene was far more disturbing.

His disgust only confirmed the man’s insanity.

Turning away, the guard stopped paying attention to the man. What he didn’t see was that beneath the man’s bloodstained, tattered clothes, a twisted yet beautiful face was slowly forming.

On that beautiful face, a fully formed eye stared fixedly at the cell door. Terrifying veins crawled across the man’s belly and that face.