Pathway to Japanese Literature

The Demon-Haunted Hour Autumn had entered November, and the weather had finally begun to turn. Once again today, the sunset did not show itself, quietly descending behind the curtain of gray clouds. In the occasional rustling sounds of the wind, one could almost hear the faint cry of a blizzard mingling somewhere. Now even within Tokyo's Marunouchi "oasis," Hibiya Park, the color of twilight was gradually deepening. Why was autumn twilight so desolate? In such moments, one might even suddenly be overcome with terror. According to legend, it is said that encountering demons at street corners or forest paths happens during this twilight hour.

At that moment, a single suspicious figure appeared on the park’s path. What made him suspicious wasn’t his appearance. He wore a neatly tailored suit, a stylish Homburg hat, and gripped a slender Western-style cane. No matter how one looked at him, his impeccable bearing gave the vague impression of someone born into nobility. However, contrary to his refined appearance, the young man showed no composure whatsoever. He would walk a few steps, glancing around restlessly in all directions, then take a few more steps and pause to listen intently. After advancing a little further, he would prod at the bamboo roots with his Western-style cane.

“I can’t figure it out.”

The young man came to a stop at the fork in the path and muttered as if spitting out the words. Then he removed his hat and wiped the sweat on his forehead with a white handkerchief. His fair-skinned face—with features so finely proportioned they seemed almost feminine—came into view, but between his brows lay an unmistakable air of profound concern he could not conceal. —He seemed to have been walking desperately in search of something since earlier. "Why am I feeling so unsettled?"

Perhaps to regain his composure, the young man drew out a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. The match hissed to life, casting a yellow glow around the young man’s jaw. The color of twilight had been gradually deepening. The place where the young man now stood was a deep thicket along the path leading from the famous Crane Fountain pond toward the back of the Western-style flower beds. On both sides of the path stretched bamboo thickets taller than a person’s height, continuing past small hills here and there where fatsia plants and satsuki azaleas grew densely—an ideal place for hide-and-seek, yet it felt as though one had descended into a valley. The young man was assaulted by an indescribable terror and shuddered violently. When he came to his senses, the lit cigarette he’d been holding between his lips had gone out unnoticed.

At that moment, from nowhere came an eerie whistle—Hwee... Hwee... A whistle heard in that desolate place—it should have evoked nostalgia, yet somehow served only to unsettle the young man's heart. As he listened without conscious intent—what was this?—wasn't that a melody he too recognized? It was the song "Red Strawberry Fruit"—a tune even elementary schoolchildren knew nowadays. At Ryugu Theater in Marunouchi, not far from Hibiya Park, the revue "Red Strawberry Fruit" had been running continuously for three months. It was the theme song of that revue, sung by the troupe's prima donna Julia Akaboshi.

"Who could it be?"

The young man pricked his ears and peered toward the source of the whistle. He realized it seemed to originate from beyond the thicket where someone was whistling. "...my beloved Crimson strawberry fruit Where could it be— Now— 'I want it, but...'"

The young man forgot his worries and became entranced by the beautiful melody of the whistle. It was a melody as enchanting as Lorelei’s, and before he knew it, he found himself humming the lyrics of “Red Strawberry Fruit” in time with the whistle. …But soon, he came upon the terrifyingly suggestive lyrics within that song. “…winter trees of parting I’ll take your keepsake— your heart— Yes— ‘I am a vampire…’” The song “Red Strawberry Fruit” was in fact declaring that what they called crimson strawberry fruit referred to a human heart. “Ah, I am a vampire!”

The young gentleman jolted back to his senses. Had one heard this song sung by Julia Akaboshi in the bustling audience seats of Ryugu Theater, these lyrics would have resonated as lushly as a rose—but here was a place of an entirely different nature. In the twilight’s faint glow, bamboo leaves rustled in the thicket’s shadow. The young man felt a piercing chill run down his spine like ice. And then—

It happened in that split second.

Ky—kyaa! Suddenly, a single scream—like silk tearing! “Gah—!” Upon hearing it, the young gentleman stood stock-still in place. The scream had come from the same direction as the whistling earlier. Something terrible seemed to have happened. The young gentleman’s complexion turned deathly pale. He suddenly leaped up and, vaulting over the fence, plunged into the bamboo thicket. He could be seen rustling through the thicket, but after a short while, he came back the same way. And then he emerged onto the path again and this time began running with thudding steps. It seemed the bamboo thicket had been a dead end after all. The whistle still faintly sounded.

After taking a considerable detour, he was finally able to reach the place where the whistle had been. That had occurred roughly four or five minutes after he heard the scream. “……?” He had indeed reached the spot he thought was the place, but there were only satsuki azaleas with thickly grown leaves flourishing lushly on both sides, the path stretched ahead pointlessly white, and crucially, there was no sign of anyone to be seen. He felt as though he might have been dreaming.

But he had indeed heard the scream reverberating in his ears. And as for that scream—it was something he, in his present state, should never have heard. For this young gentleman had been searching for his own flesh-and-blood younger brother all this time.

Why did this gentleman have to search for his younger brother? That would be clarified later—for now, the author must hasten to narrate this scene. Perhaps having regained some composure, he now steadied himself and began earnestly searching the area. As he searched through this thicket and that, he finally discovered the sorrowful object he sought—hidden in the shadow of the most lushly overgrown satsuki azalea. It was a single foot wearing a shoe that jutted out toward the path.

“Oh—” The young gentleman stood frozen like a fossil, rigid in place.

Double Fatal Wounds

The young gentleman, after regaining his composure moments later, quietly stepped into the grassy area. And then he approached the corpse and peered into its pallid dead face. “Oh, Shirou…” And then, in a voice wrenched from his guts, he called out the name of his beloved younger brother as he had been in life.

Ah, what a gruesome sight! In the shade of satsuki azalea leaves lay a boy in a student uniform collapsed on his back, drenched in crimson blood from his throat down to his chest. The young man knelt on the grassy turf, checked the boy’s pulse, and pried open his eyelids to examine his pupils—but he was already gone. He realized the body was cooling rapidly. The brother wept bitterly, tears streaming down. “He’s dead... Shirou, who killed you?” The corpse—having encountered its own flesh-and-blood brother Ichiro Nishi—seemed to want to speak of the hate-filled murderer who had slaughtered it, but could no longer utter a single word.

After wiping his tears, older brother Ichiro peered into the bloodstained corpse. At that moment, he discovered a deep groove that had formed just below the corpse’s chin. When he looked closely, something resembling a thin steel wire was visible inside the groove. “Well now, this is strange. Could he have been strangled?” Ichiro widened his eyes in surprise. “But then, what about this fresh blood staining his chest?” It was strange for fresh blood to spurt out from strangulation. There must be another wound here. Ichiro brought his face closer to the corpse of his beloved younger brother Shirou. Then, carefully placing his hands on the corpse’s head, he gently bent its neck.

“Ah, this…”

The corpse’s throat had been gruesomely painted crimson with congealed blood when suddenly a gaping wound about an inch long split open on the left side of the neck. What had caused it? The flesh was horribly torn. From the wound, as though it had been waiting, fresh blood gushed forth in thick spurts. Ichiro jerked his hands away from the corpse. The blood flow slid slickly down the neck—someone must have slashed the carotid artery.

"What a brutal way to kill," he thought. "After strangling him, they even slashed the carotid artery…" But this was an excessively meticulous method of killing. Could Shirou have truly provoked such hatred? No, that couldn't be right. No one would employ such cruelty against him—he was beloved by all. With unbearable doubt etched on his face, Ichiro peered into the wound once more. There, on the corpse's neck, he discovered something horrifying. Human teeth marks!

It was deep teeth marks remaining on the skin near the wound. One, two, three—they were present in three places. Instead of another teeth mark being visible, the skin surface where a mark should have been was gouged as if carved out. Probably, the upper incisor had bitten there into the boy Shirou’s skin and flesh, tearing through them and even severing the carotid artery. Ah, what manner of creature could have done this? He didn't know whether they had lacked weapons to harm a human—but to kill by biting with teeth? What manner of act was this? It was a beast-like method of killing. Could such a terrifying beastman truly appear in the heart of the metropolis? Ichiro doubted his own eyes.

“Hateful bastard! Cruel monster!—Who in hell did this horrendous killing?!” At this moment, Ichiro recalled the whistle he had half-consciously heard earlier. That the whistle might have some connection to his younger brother’s brutal murder was something he should have realized much sooner, but faced with such a tragic scene, he had likely forgotten it for a moment. “That’s right—who was blowing that whistle?”

"The song 'Red Strawberry Fruit'—he wondered if perhaps his murdered brother had been the one whistling it."

“No—not brother—” That eerie whistle had been audible even before what seemed like his brother’s piercing scream—and later too, when he was desperately searching the overgrown path, hadn’t he heard it drifting from somewhere? A murdered person couldn’t whistle. —Then who had been whistling? “Ah! The one behind that whistle must be the beastman who killed my brother!” That’s right—the song “Red Strawberry Fruit” was actually a “vampire” song. Didn’t the fifth verse have lines like “I’ll take your heart—I’m a vampire”? With the same sensation as hearing Julia Akaboshi’s sultry voice from Ryugu Theater’s stage, I couldn’t ignore that scream-laced whistle. The one who whistled the vampire song had to be that murderer. Perhaps lured by that uncanny melody, a true vampire—bat-winged—had emerged from this twilight, its long sucker-like lips sucking my beloved brother’s blood dry—or so I couldn’t help imagining. After all, since I’d rushed there four or five minutes after the scream, that terrifying vampire might still be lurking nearby.

“Alright! Quit dawdling—I must catch that vampire!”

Ichiro Nishi resolved himself in an instant. And then he rose to his feet, trod on the grassy turf, and dashed toward the path.

“Hey—! Come out! Murderer, come out!…” “Murderer, come out!…”

He became like a wrathful deity and plunged into the thickets here and the shrubbery there. His tailored Western trousers were torn here and there, and the fist gripping his cane bore scratches from which blood had begun to flow—yet Ichiro appeared utterly indifferent to it all.

In the eastern corner of the park soared a tall, ancient stone wall—likely remnants of an old checkpoint. The place held such an eerily gloomy air that even the most curious strollers had avoided approaching it. Ichiro crawled in from the stone wall's flank without considering what lay ahead or behind. Large butterbur leaves grew thickly there, but when he plunged wildly into their midst, his foot unexpectedly crushed something squishy and unnerving.

“Agh—!”

And with that, he leapt about three feet into the air.

But following that cry, he had to let out another cry of surprise. For from within those densely growing butterbur leaves, a man had suddenly leapt out. What Ichiro had stepped on must have been the leg of the man who had been lying beneath those leaves.

“…” Breathing rapidly, Ichiro glared at the man. Ah, what a terrifying face the man had! He wasn’t particularly tall, but he possessed a solidly built frame with broad shoulders. And he wore strange, darkened Western clothing. Upon those broad shoulders sat an enormous neck that seemed to have sunk into them. Hair disheveled like tangled weeds; complexion an ochre-black. But what seized Ichiro’s soul more than anything was the terrifyingly large scar that flickered into view across half of the man’s ochre-hued face.

“Wait—” Ichiro perceived his opponent and charged forward bravely. The scar-faced man nimbly dodged and fled. “Hey, wait—!” Whether that mysterious figure was indeed the terrifying vampire who had killed his younger brother Shirou remained unclear. Yet given the timing—lying beneath butterbur leaves behind a deserted stone wall at twilight—he was unquestionably a suspicious figure. All that remained was to catch up and grapple with him.

The mysterious figure said nothing and thudded away in flight. The swiftness of his movements was such that it hardly seemed humanly possible. No sooner did he look up at the high stone wall than he nimbly stretched out his long arm and vaulted over it as if spring-loaded. It was as if he were an airplane performing acrobatic maneuvers. When Ichiro finally managed to climb up the stone wall and looked down toward the pond below, that mysterious figure was already on the opposite shore. On the pond’s surface lingered two long ripples trailing behind them like those from a small motorboat. He could not understand how he had crossed the pond.

Ichiro had to make a wide detour around the pond. However, Ichiro’s prediction proved correct—the mysterious figure kept fleeing westward. In that direction lay the bamboo grove where his younger brother’s brutally murdered corpse lay sprawled. Therefore, the mysterious figure must have intended to slip into that area. If that happened, the mysterious figure’s true identity would become clear.

“Someone—lend me a hand—!” Ichiro tried to shout at full volume, but his throat had dried completely parched, emitting only a withered rasp of sound. Soon after, as though drawn by his younger brother’s lingering spirit, the mysterious figure turned toward the bamboo grove in question—parting the thicket with a rustling clamor before vanishing from sight. Witnessing this, Ichiro could no longer suppress the seething flames of vengeance rising within him. He abruptly altered his path. The plan was to take a hidden shortcut and burst forth from the thicket behind where his younger brother’s corpse lay sprawled. He believed this would ambush the mysterious figure—a tactical advantage too critical to ignore.

Before long, Ichiro emerged at the target thicket. It was a thicket of densely growing shrubs so impenetrable that there was scarcely space to set foot. He advanced quietly, parting the lower branches as he went. The location of the corpse must have been near at hand.

“Yeah, that’s the spot.” Through gaps in the thicket’s leaves, a circular lawn lay visible ahead. An electric light seemed to be lit nearby, casting a yellowish glow. At its very center lay unmistakable proof—his younger brother’s pallid arm stretched out powerlessly, as if thrown down.

And then，it happened. Strangely enough，the corpse’s arm began sliding smoothly across the grass like a living creature. Had his younger brother，who had suffered such grievous wounds，come back to life? No—there was absolutely no way such a thing could happen. And then— "That fiend is pouncing on the corpse and doing something indecent again." "Alright—just you wait and see what I’ll do!"

His entire body burned with fighting spirit. Now that things had come to this, I needed no one’s salvation. For my beloved younger brother—I would throw myself into this, colliding with full force against the opponent’s chest! “Come at me!” With a shout of “One! Two! Three!”, he leaped out from the thicket onto the grassy lawn with a yell.

“Come at me—” He tried to leap out, but there—unexpectedly—

“Aah!”

There was a young woman’s scream.

“Oh… You…?” Ichiro stood rigid as a pole at the sheer unexpectedness, no words coming immediately. Utterly unexpected—for there stood none other than Julia Akaboshi herself, the current top star of the capital and prima donna of Ryugu Theater, upon that grassy lawn.

Torn Diary “Oh my, what a surprise. “Well… what happened? You come appearing from such a place…” Julia shouted through parted lips, revealing her beautiful teeth. However, she did not appear to be all that surprised. Was that what they called stage composure? As if delivering her signature solo from a high place, she bent her supple arm—sheathed in a black gown—and raised it near the full curve of her hips where the crimson evening gown trailed long beneath, then fixed Ichiro with an unwavering gaze.

“Ms. Akaboshi Julia—why have you appeared in a place like this, rather than me?” As he inspected the corpse to see if anything had changed, Ichiro asked.

“Oh my, you know me?” “Well, what shall I do?” Julia replied with a lightly feigned gesture of surprise. “I’m currently free between the matinee and evening performances at the theater.” “That time of day is the most enjoyable for me throughout the whole day… So I was out driving—do take a look, you can see it from here—my automobile…” Sure enough, in the direction Julia pointed, an automobile was parked where the path exited, and in its seat sat a much younger girl who appeared to be her companion. That was Yabashiri Chidori, a showgirl who was like a younger sister to Julia, though.

“Are you saying you happened to pass by here in your automobile?” “How you figured this out…” He pointed at his younger brother’s corpse.

“Yes, that’s because someone was shouting.” “It was a scream as if some major incident had occurred.” “So I stopped my automobile and came here, and this is the state of things.” “You’re in terrible trouble!” “This student here—he’s dead, you know.”

“That’s right. Rather than being dead—it would be more accurate to say he’s been murdered. This is my real brother.” “Oh my, what was that? Are you saying you’re this person’s older brother?”

“That’s correct. “I am Shirou’s older brother, Ichiro.” “Oh dear me—what ever shall I do?” Julia furrowed her beautiful brows. “What an utterly dreadful misfortune this has become.”

With that, she closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Oh right—did you see a suspicious man around here just now…?” “A suspicious man? “Besides yourself?”

“Yes, of course it’s not about me. The man with a terrifying scar covering half his face—a small, bull-like man.” “No. I’ve just gotten out of my automobile and walked straight here.” Julia delivered her beautiful lines as though she were standing on a revue stage. The tall Renaissance-style lamppost standing nearby grew increasingly brighter. “Has something happened to that man with the scar?”

“No—I was chasing him just now. I thought he might be the culprit, you see,” said Ichiro as he looked around at the surrounding trees. The twilight had deepened into thick shadows; now, even if one gave chase, it seemed there would be no point. Just then, the chaotic clatter of footsteps reached their ears. As the two exchanged startled glances, a boy of about ten came running through the twilight—though in the dimness, it was hard to make him out clearly. Then, whirling around to look behind, he shouted at the top of his voice.

“Hey, hurry up and get over here, Mr. Ootsujiiii!” From the opposite direction too, another set of footsteps came clattering closer. “Wait, wait, Isamu! If you go running off alone, it’s dangerous!”

Beneath that voice, an ogre-like obese man in his fifties appeared, wheezing heavily. It seemed the two were companions. “Mr. Ootsuji! There’s another young man here besides Julia Akaboshi!” With that, the boy quipped with precocious wit. “Hoh, so it is, eh?” Judging by that exchange, it seemed the two of them already knew Julia had come to the corpse.

“Everyone. “It’s fine to look at the corpse there—but don’t touch it with hands. If the hard-earned murder evidence gets ruined, the police will have trouble finding the culprit, you know,” the boy said with utmost seriousness, then called out to the large man referred to as Ootsuji. “How about it, Mr. Ootsuji? In this murder case, what has Mr. Ootsuji discovered? Lay those out for everyone to see.” “Ain’t that pushin’ it, Isamu?” “Everyone’s laughin’ at you, y’know.”

Ootsuji scratched his head.

“My, you do say such amusing things.” “And who might you be?”

Julia called out to the wide-eyed boy. “You think we’re suspicious, right, Ms. Julia? We’re not the least bit suspicious, I tell you. We’re private detectives, I’ll have you know! You’ve heard of him, right? The masked detective called Seiryuou—the Blue Dragon King—who’s famous in the imperial capital right now. We’re the Blue Dragon King’s right pinky finger, I’ll have you know!”

“Well, so you’re the pinky?” “No, that’s not it. The pinky is Mr. Ootsuji here, and I’m the right-hand arm.” “Is Seiryuou coming here?” “Nuh-uh,” the boy suddenly deflated, shaking his head. “If Seiryuou were here, he’d solve a murder like this in the blink of an eye. But for some reason, Seiryuou’s whereabouts have been unknown for about ten days now. So that’s why Mr. Ootsuji and I are going to solve this case ourselves!”

“Hey now, Isamu! Don’t go spouting nonsense now.”

“Right. Rather than that, I must bend every effort to reach a conclusion quickly…” The boy Isamu turned toward Ootsuji once more. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Mr. Ootsuji, but this student was initially sitting there facing away under that tree.” “Then—from behind the student, between those thick leaves—two hands slithered out and tightened a thin wire around his neck with a sickening squeeze.” “And that’s how he finally ended up dead.”

“I know that much already,” Ootsuji retorted with forced bravado. “Hmm, hard to say… Then the culprit circled around to the front and approached the corpse.” “And then bit through the throat to drain the blood.” “Do it this way and they won’t come back at all, I tell you.” “That much even I’d know.” “Hmph, doubt it.” “Before getting killed, that student must’ve been talking with some beautiful dame alone.” “There’s chocolate foil in the grass—one piece’s got lipstick smeared on it.”

“Hmm, really? That’s…” “See, Mr. Ootsuji probably doesn’t get it.—While the student was talking with the woman, something came up for her, and she left here, I tell you.” “She told him, ‘I’ll be right back, so wait here,’ so the student waited patiently.” “And while she was gone, he ended up getting strangled.”

“You’re quite the imitator of Seiryuou.” “And there’s still something else I know…”

Isamu’s loquaciousness continued on. Perhaps having grown tired of listening, Julia Akaboshi swished her skirt and walked toward the waiting automobile. Ichiro Nishi had been silently listening to the large man and the boy who claimed to be Seiryuou’s subordinates, but he too left the scene, following in Julia’s footsteps. He might still have harbored the desire to track down the mysterious figure’s whereabouts.

The boy Isamu and Ootsuji, seemingly unaware of this, remained engrossed in their animated discussion. However, when the man and woman left, they instinctively exchanged glances and smiled faintly.

“But Isamu, you shouldn’t go blabbing about such secret things like that.” “That’s not any kind of secret. I know two more interesting things!” “What do you mean by ‘interesting things’?” “One is about Julia Akaboshi’s earring, and the other is about that weirdly shaped tan mark on the face of the other man who was here just now!” “Oh ho. You’re quick to notice things, I see. But what’s the use of that, I see.”

“That might be even more useful than the diary Mr. Ootsuji discovered.”

“Oh ho, the diary!”

Ootsuji rushed over to the corpse for reasons known only to himself. Lifting the corpse’s back slightly, he retrieved a small black leather diary hidden beneath it. He flipped through the diary’s pages when suddenly—startled—he let out a loud shout.

“Oh, this is terrible! Hey, Isamu! Someone’s torn out dozens of pages from this diary and taken them away. When I checked earlier, there was nothing like this…”

Bizarre Challenge Letter

The following afternoon, Chief Ooeyama of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police found himself compelled to meet with the press corps that had been crowding in since the previous night.

In the society pages of that day’s morning editions, every newspaper had allocated three or even four columns to top coverage,

"VAMPIRE APPEARS IN IMPERIAL CAPITAL? ——Hibiya Park’s Bizarre Corpse——

Judging by how they reported last evening’s bizarre incident under blaring headlines using primary-size typeface, even the perceptive newspaper reporters seemed to have already discerned that this was a major case of a kind rarely seen in recent times.

Chief Ooeyama, who had been working at full throttle, called the press corps into the reception room under the condition of a five-minute press conference. The group that noisily entered immediately formed a tight circle around the Chief.

“Five minutes, strictly observed! That’s all I’ll say!”

With that, Chief Ooeyama preempted them. “So the main headquarters is treating this case with extreme gravity, I take it?”

Promptly, one of the reporters retorted. “It’s said the culprit is mentally ill—is that true?” Another reporter pressed him with a pointed question. “The culprit hasn’t been determined yet.” The Chief twisted his mouth into a downward arc.

“I hear that when they checked with the forensic department, not a single drop of the victim’s blood remained.” “Fool!” The Chief easily dismissed the reporter’s transparent nonsense. “The culprit would be Ichiro Nishi (26), who claims to be the victim’s biological older brother.”

“That’s not the case at present.” “What is Ichiro Nishi’s address?” “The same house as the victim’s?” “You shouldn’t joke about this, Chief. The victim was living in a boarding house. Why is the main headquarters giving Ichiro Nishi special protection?” “We’re not giving him any special protection.” The Chief threw himself back defiantly in his chair. However, keeping the victim’s biological brother’s address strictly confidential must have required special justification. Sensing the Chief’s momentary vulnerability, the press corps fired their heavy artillery—a question aimed straight at his heart.

“About three years ago, there was a man named Shisenkai—a notorious criminal who committed a series of bold robberies and murders, becoming a wanted man across the land.” “It’s said that criminal fled overseas back then and evaded capture, but isn’t there talk lately that Shisenkai has returned to Japan?” “Given the extremely cruel method of this recent murder case, there are those who believe it must be the work of that Shisenkai, you know.” “What about this guy?”

“Hmm… Shisenkai.” The Chief knit his brows and groaned. “Even the main headquarters is fully aware of his return." “I can’t definitively state whether he’s connected to this current case yet, but we’re set to apprehend him in the near future.” He stated this, but Chief Ooeyama wore a look that suggested they had struck a nerve. The crab-shaped scar covering half of Shisenkai’s face seemed to float vividly before his eyes.

“In that case, Chief—I won’t put this in the newspaper—but you’ve got a lead on Shisenkai’s whereabouts?”

“The five minutes are already up,” said the Chief as he abruptly rose from his chair. “We’ll end things here for today—”

When the Chief left the room, the reporters began loudly exchanging frank opinions. In the end, by connecting this recent vampire incident with Shisenkai’s return, the main headquarters showed unprecedented tension; however, it seemed they were actually struggling due to insufficient leads on Shisenkai. And they agreed to blaringly sensationalize this matter in tonight’s evening edition.

When the clamorous ringing of evening edition bells echoed through the streets, Chief Ooeyama was seething with bitterness. “There’s no helping it.” “If they splash this all over the papers, that Shisenkai bastard’ll get wary and burrow underground for sure.”

At that moment, a detective entered.

“Chief.”

“Here’s a letter…”

and handed over a cheap-looking envelope made of brown kraft paper. The Chief nonchalantly opened the envelope and spread out the letter, but upon reading the brief text written there, he displayed unusual agitation—flushing crimson in an instant, only to immediately turn deathly pale instead. The following message was written there.

“Chief Ooeyama Sir”

To: It’s been a while, hasn’t it? In the time since we last met, your discernment appears to have grown thoroughly clouded. To attribute responsibility for Hibiya Park’s vampire corpse to Shisenkai’s work—what absurdity is this? Shisenkai does not engage in such petty killings as bloodsucking. If you doubt this truth, come to Cabaret Etoile in Ginza at eleven o’clock tonight. I shall show you something that will bring full comprehension. Come without fail! “Shisenkai”

The Chief, startled, recalled the detective who had brought the letter. When he inquired about who had delivered such a letter, it emerged that a boy had appeared at the reception desk and left it there; however, even after a search was conducted, the messenger boy’s whereabouts remained unknown. But since this could be a lead on Shisenkai, he ordered a thorough investigation. Then, gripping that bizarre challenge letter, he rushed off to the Superintendent’s office.

That night.

The most luxurious establishment in Ginza, Cabaret Etoile, was even more crowded than usual. Since all seats had been occupied, they had no choice but to set out auxiliary tables and chairs—about five or six spots tucked behind thick pillars—but these too were immediately claimed. The clinking of wine cups, booming voices of drunken gentlemen, and raucous jazz music merged into a cacophony that made one’s head ring. Amid this din, occupying a corner table were Chief Ooeyama with a group of his seasoned subordinates—and notably, Prosecutor Karikane had joined them. They had all shed their uniforms and swords, their stylish attire dazzling the guests’ eyes. Meanwhile, the police headquarters’ most formidable detectives maintained vigilance undercover—disguised as waiters, inebriated patrons, and cleaners near walls and pillars—their watch so tight not even an ant could slip through. What this group awaited was the arrival of the sender of that bizarre challenge letter: Shisenkai. From where would Shisenkai emerge, and what did he intend to do?

However, the guests that night—unlike the prosecutor’s party—had gathered for something entirely different. They were there to see Julia Akaboshi—the prima donna of Ryugu Theater, making a special appearance at this cabaret around 10:40 that evening. It was Julia’s dance and solo that had drawn such a crowd.

The night gradually deepened. The figures of pedestrians walking outdoors thinned out considerably, while inside the cabaret, the voices of increasingly intoxicated patrons grew steadily louder. The clock struck exactly 10:45. When the manager emerged from the back and signaled to the jazz band’s leader, the mellow blues melody was abruptly shattered by a trumpet’s spirited blast, transforming into a brisk march. Because it was indeed the daring act they’d been waiting for, thunderous applause erupted from the audience. The audience lights dimmed slightly, and in their place, a powerful spotlight descended from the ceiling, tracing a beautiful cone.

“Whoa—it’s Julia Akaboshi!” “A toast to our prima donna, Julia!” “Whoa!” Welcomed by those voices, Julia Akaboshi—clad in a jet-black evening dress of silk adorned with silver embellishments—appeared as if leaping into the bright spotlight. There, Julia’s specialty solo began. The audience fell completely silent, and only Julia’s bell-like beautiful singing voice shook the cabaret’s high ceiling.

“I don’t like the area where that front pillar is casting a shadow.”

Chief Ooeyama whispered softly to Prosecutor Karikane in the adjacent seat.

“Indeed,” “I’ve also been keeping watch for any guests concealing half their faces, but I don’t see any.” “Unless Shisenkai manages to hide the scar covering half his face when he appears, the police will spot him.” “Well then, I’ve given orders ensuring full vigilance.”

Several of Julia’s solos ended, and a brief intermission began. As she retreated with a storm of applause at her back, the audience seats returned to their original brightness, and the jazz band began playing a lighthearted interlude. The police force let out a sigh of relief. “Will your esteemed friend, the renowned detective Seiryuou, not be making an appearance today?” Chief Ooeyama asked Prosecutor Karikane while lighting a cigarette.

“Well, it’s hard to say.” “Professor seems to have been busy with something lately; he hasn’t shown up at all.” “However, if he knew about tonight’s matter, he might be somewhere here.”

The masked renowned detective was the prosecutor’s close friend. Those who knew the true face beneath the mask were limited to only a small number of prosecutors. According to Seiryuou, detectives should avoid revealing their true faces—whether in front of clients or criminals—as much as possible. Therefore, there was once a photo published in a magazine purporting to show his true face, but that was naturally a portrait of another person.

Once again, the trumpet’s spirited sound began, and the audience lights dimmed once more. At last, this time, Shisenkai would surely appear. “It’s five minutes to eleven.” Under the table, the Chief removed his pistol’s safety lock.

Oblivious to the prosecutor's party's tension, another storm of applause erupted in the audience. Within a beautiful cone of light, Julia and three dancers—adorned in dazzling costumes that stole one’s gaze—made their entrance. The castanets clattered to life. The melody of the troupe’s signature piece, "Red Strawberry Fruit," began to resonate.… “This is a problem, isn’t it? Three actresses—all wearing masks.” Prosecutor Karikane whispered to Chief Ooeyama in the adjacent seat.

“This is how it’s done even on stage.” “Moreover, I don’t believe Shisenkai would disguise himself as that beautiful actress—” “But observe.” “I don’t think it’s advisable for actresses—or anyone—to appear wearing such masks at this critical hour of eleven tonight.” “Moreover, those long costumes are covering nearly their entire bodies, leaving only their chins, necks, and wrists exposed.” “This is an unfavorable trend.”

“Then shall I order them to have the actresses remove their masks?”

That was the moment.

Without warning, the indoor lights all went out at once, plunging the room into utter darkness. A collective shout rose from the audience. At that moment, from the darkness of the exit, there was someone shouting in a loud voice.

“Everyone, we are the police force! It’s dangerous—please take cover under the tables immediately!” No sooner had the voice ended than screams erupted, and the clamorous sounds of tables and chairs colliding and toppling echoed through the room. (This is some kind of major incident!) The guests’ drunkenness sobered up all at once. Then, as if mocking the commotion, the indoor lights flashed on blazingly bright.

The interior scene had completely changed. Most of the guests had ducked under the tables, and only those too thoroughly drunk to move were slumped limply over their chairs. At the exits, as if appearing from nowhere, about thirty armed police officers stood lined up like an iron wall, their pistols at the ready. “Keep your heads down!” The police officer warned.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha!” An unexpected, resounding guffaw was heard from the shadow of a pillar. “There!” Prosecutor Karikane and Chief Ooeyama, using the table as a makeshift shield, stared intently toward the source of the eerie laughter.

From the shadow of the thick pillar at the front, something fluttered out like a bat onto the empty stage. It was a gaunt man wearing a strange yellow outfit that looked like it was made of leather. The grotesqueness of his face—which fixed a fierce glare on the police officers at the exit—defied all comparison. On the left half of his face, a massive birthmark shaped like a crab was distinctly visible. Ah, Shisenkai had finally appeared!

Unexpected Sacrifice

The long-awaited audacious mastermind behind the challenge letter finally revealed himself before everyone. The Phantom Thief Shisenkai made no effort to conceal his grotesque face—too repulsive to look at twice—and glared sharply at the armed police squad. Commanding the armed squad was Chief Kongou, who stood ramrod straight and barked orders to his subordinates. “If that monster makes even the slightest move, shoot him dead!” Shisenkai heard this and curled his thin lips into a cold sneer. Then suddenly, he drew his trusted weapon from behind his back. It was a fearsome light machine gun—an exquisitely crafted weapon he had specially ordered from a secret arms factory during his time in Holland. The machine gun’s muzzle trained itself on the police officers’ chests.

“Open fire—now!” The armed squad leader instantly issued a firing command.

Boom. Boom. Clack, clack, clack, clack. It was unclear who had fired first. In an instant, the indoor lights snapped off, plunging the room into darkness. Hellish screams, the sound of shattering objects—amidst these, gunfire raged like a tempest. At the front and exit, opposing each other, crack-crack-crack—crimson flames flashed with terrifying intensity. A fierce gun battle had begun.

The police officers fought bravely without faltering or yielding as bullets showered them. Shisenkai should have been behind that blazing mass of crimson fire ahead—a veritable fire-breathing dragon. They kept firing at that target until their pistol bullets ran dry. At times, the officers felt as if log-like clubs were striking their chests. This occurred when Shisenkai’s bullets struck their bulletproof vests. Without those vests, their bodies would have been riddled like Swiss cheese long before.

But the might of the light machine gun was formidable. The bullets, fired at a tremendous speed, were mostly intercepted by their bulletproof vests. However, as shots began to graze elbows and strike wrists where the armor didn’t cover, even the stalwart police squad started to falter slightly. From behind the tables, Prosecutor Karikane, Chief Ooeyama, and the rest of the leadership team—peering out with only their eyes visible as they stared intently at this ferocious gun battle in utter darkness—had already discerned that their allies were losing ground.

“Chief Ooeyama! This situation is untenable!” “Why don’t you order the police squad to charge?” “I would gladly order a charge if I could—it’s impossible.” “Tables! Chairs! Bodies! They’re scattered everywhere—blocking any path for an assault.”

“But if this continues…” Prosecutor Karikane choked out the anguished words.

And then, it happened. Someone pulled the prosecutor’s arm.

“Mr. Karikane, Mr. Karikane—” “Hey, who’s there?!” “Please calm down—it’s me. Don’t you recognize me?” “What… That voice—” Prosecutor Karikane firmly grasped the man’s arm, pulled him close, and whispered in a low voice. “—Blue Dragon King.” Blue Dragon King! It was none other than the masked detective Seiryuou—the Blue Dragon King—long renowned as Prosecutor Karikane’s close friend. For some reason, he had been missing for about ten days up to now. The communication sent to him must have arrived, leading him to come to this cabaret.

In the darkness, Seiryuou exchanged hushed whispers with Prosecutor Karikane about something. When their conversation seemed to have concluded, “Alright, do your best.” With those encouraging words from the prosecutor, Seiryuou stealthily blended back into the darkness. —The prosecutor then drew Chief Ooeyama close and whispered something.

“Very well. I’ll give the order.”

Chief Ooeyama said this and crawled out from behind the table. He advanced toward the fiercely battling police squad while weaving through the hail of bullets. Before long, some command was issued, and the armed police squad’s gunfire grew even more ferocious. There came a tremendous clattering sound as something crashed down from the ceiling. “Focus on the front!” The squad leader was shouting— Then Shisenkai’s light machine gun—which had been spewing fire like a monster at the front—suddenly shifted its target. Rat-a-tat-tat—the bullets tore upward into the chandelier, sending glass shards cascading down in a glittering rain.

No sooner had someone thought “Huh?” than a shriek was heard, and the machine gun’s roar that had been growling until now abruptly ceased. Then came the heavy thud of machinery crashing onto the floor—this was the brave Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King), who had stealthily circled behind Shisenkai and knocked down the machine gun. Shisenkai had been under fierce fire from the police squad head-on, so while he was engrossed in repelling them, he was taken down. However, while it was true that the police squad must have been firing a fierce barrage, they were only shooting at the ceiling. It was to avoid injuring the charging Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King) while also restraining Shisenkai. It was all the great detective Seiryuou’s (Blue Dragon King) tactical maneuver.

The ominous roar of the machine gun abruptly ceased. The police squad’s intense gunfire had also ceased before anyone realized. The dark room, if only for a few seconds, was transformed into a graveyard-like silence.

“Lights... the lights...” Blue Dragon King’s bellowing voice rang out. At that shout, someone twisted the light switch in the room, but it only made a click—the light did not come on. The police officers checked the flashlights, but many had broken during the commotion. Nevertheless, two or three beams of light flashed frantically through the dark room—but before they could even reach Seiryuou, they were snuffed out with a sharp hiss.

In the darkness, it became clear only that a gruesome struggle was taking place, accompanied by terrible groans. The police squad stepped over toppled tables and pushed through fleeing cabaret guests as they approached the direction of the groans. But due to the renewed chaos, those groans vanished into the void. “Where are you, Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King)!” “Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King), please call out—!”

Prosecutor Karikane and his group called out the detective’s name at the top of their voices, but no response was heard. “Hey everyone—shut your traps for a second?!” Chief Ooeyama bellowed in a voice like a cracked bell. Whether his voice had reached everyone’s ears or not, the entire group fell silent. “Hey, Seiryuou! Where are you?!” The prosecutor called out again into the darkness—

But no one answered. The group felt each heart pounding loudly in the darkness. (What’s going on?) At that moment, a faint whistle began to sound from the darkness ahead. “My beloved...” Crimson strawberry fruit At last found *Oh—* “Within your heart…” Ah, it was the currently popular song *Red Strawberry Fruit*. It was the signature song of Julia Akaboshi, the prima donna of Ryugu Theater. —

“Hey, who’s there?!” shouted Chief Ooeyama. “Anyone who dares whistle so casually at a time like this will face severe punishment later!”

"A carefree whistle"—or so Chief Ooeyama had called it—but it never rang out carefree. Because the whistle continued to blow insistently and nonchalantly, not heeding the police’s attempts to stop it.

In the darkness and silence like a graveyard...

“Hey, cut it out! If you don’t stop—” Just as Chief Ooeyama, blazing like fire, advanced into the murk, he collided in an instant with a large object sprawled at his feet—twisting his ankle with an agonizing crunch. The moment it happened, the thing at his feet dissolved into motion—heaving upward in a sinister surge—and began grappling amid a furious roar. The chief’s resolve shattered; he gasped and reeled backward.

“Seiryuou is here!” came an unexpected voice from the tangle of grappling bodies. “What?!” “Apprehend Shisenkai quickly—” Prosecutor Karikane found a lead in that voice. “Lights! Lights! Bring the lights here, quick!” From the direction of the exit, two or three handheld lanterns finally came in.

“That way! That way!” Then, near the thick pillar ahead, there came a violent sound of objects colliding. Then, a beast-like roar was heard.

“Got him! Got him! Lights! Hurry, hurry!” “Lights! Hurry, hurry!” At that shout, the handheld lanterns flew in a cluster. “Shisenkai! Give it up already!” The sound of scuffling could still be heard. Then, for some reason, the lights in the room flashed on. About half of the lights that had escaped damage in the gunfight lit up brightly all at once. The people looked at one another’s faces as though awakening from a nightmare.

“Shisenkai is right here!”

That was undoubtedly the voice of Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King), which had been echoing in the darkness since earlier. Both the police squad and the cabaret guests turned in unison toward the source of the voice, as if by prior agreement. Oh, that was indeed the masked renowned detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King). “Finally caught him, have you?”

Prosecutor Karikane cried out joyfully and approached Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King). “Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King)!”

It was there that the people saw the masked renowned detective for the first time. He was a slender, tall man whose build looked as brawny as a Shepherd’s. However, as usual, he had masked the lower half of his face from the eyes down, revealing only his two gleaming eyes beneath the hunting cap.

“Now, look here at the base of this pillar.” “What you see here is Shisenkai’s left leg.” “Also wedged here is his yellow leather garment.” “Initially, Shisenkai slipped out unnoticed from this pillar with a hidden mechanism. But when he tried to leap back into it to escape just now, his luck ran out—he got himself trapped in the rotating pillar.” “It’s secure now.”

Indeed, this pillar appeared to rotate, with a visible seam. Near its base, a yellow leather garment and a strangely shaped left shoe jutted out abruptly. Chief Ooeyama was so delighted he nearly leaped into the air. “Now, quickly grab that leg and pull Shisenkai out!”

he ordered.

The swarm of police officers surged toward the pillar, grabbed Shisenkai’s leg, and pulled with a heave-ho. Another officer pulled at the yellow leather garment—but after a moment, the officers let out screams in unison and toppled backward like dominoes. And then, above their heads, the leather garment—severed midway—and the left long boot spun round and round before thudding down.

“What the—it’s only the garment and boot!”

Chief Ooeyama shouted. “Ugh.”

Even the masked detective groaned. They had been thoroughly outwitted by Shisenkai. It was then that...

One of the officers, face pale, came rushing up to Chief Ooeyama.

“I-It’s terrible, Chief! A guest has been killed behind the pillar beside the stage!” “What the—he must’ve been killed by machine gun or pistol fire just now.”

“That’s not it. We’ve taken care of the injured over there, but the guest’s corpse I discovered has had its throat horribly torn through. This must have been done by the notorious vampire. There’s no doubt about it.” “What the—are you saying a corpse killed by the vampire has been discovered?” “Now that you mention it… there was something in the darkness earlier that was whistling Red Strawberry Fruit…” The people could only exchange looks in their astonishment.

Could this truly be Shisenkai’s doing? In that case, not only had the prosecutor and masked detective been cleverly lured all the way there, but they had also been dealt an insult that could not be wiped away no matter how hard they tried—through the vampire-ridden corpse. Was Shisenkai’s declaration that he was not a vampire true, or was tonight’s tragedy an ironic confession?

Had Julia Akaboshi managed to withdraw safely?

Burning with resolve to redeem himself, what remarkable feats would the masked renowned detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King) begin to attempt?

Before long, there was a sense that the "Terrifying Whistle" would begin echoing from somewhere.

The true identity of the vampire—who in the world was it?!

Suspicious Blueprint Just as the bold outlaw Shisenkai attempted to flee into the hidden pillar, the masked detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King) seemed to have swiftly seized him—but upon pulling him out, all that remained was Shisenkai’s left long boot and a torn fragment of his garment; his body was nowhere to be found. At this, Prosecutor Karikane, Chief Ooeyama—who had been overjoyed at Shisenkai’s imminent capture—and the rest of the prosecutor’s party were left dismayed, like anglers who had let a trophy fish slip through their net.

However, Shisenkai shouldn’t have fled that far yet. Prosecutor Karikane, the commander-in-chief, had ordered an immediate search of the vicinity of the scene without showing a hint of hesitation. The police squad split into three directions—the exterior and interior of Cabaret Etoile, and the hidden pillar into which Shisenkai had fled—and began their desperate large-scale search.

“Oh, where has the Blue Dragon King gone?”

With this, Prosecutor Karikane—as if noticing for the first time—looked around left and right.

“Seiryuou?” The senior officials accompanying the prosecutor also looked around left and right in the same manner. But he was nowhere to be seen.

“He was around here until just a moment ago, but I don’t see him now,” said Chief Ooeyama. “He must have dashed off somewhere again.” “No, Prosecutor Karikane—”

The chief called out in a formal tone. "You seem to place great trust in that Blue Dragon King, but I must confess I find it rather difficult to comprehend." He spoke in a tone that implicitly cast suspicion on the masked detective. "Ha ha ha." "That man’s perfectly reliable." "Is that so? Well, if you insist—during that struggle in the darkness earlier—no matter how many times we called out—he didn’t answer." "And then—only that whistle of 'Red Strawberry Fruit' could be heard." "Then after a while—didn’t Seiryuou’s voice suddenly shout 'Shisenkai’s here!'?" "What was he doing during that time?" "After all—it was pitch black." "There’s no way to know what he did."

The chief’s tone was such that he might as well have been suggesting that even murder was possible. “That must have been because Seiryuou was pinned down by Shisenkai, so he couldn’t raise his voice. I think he finally managed to throw him off, and only then was he able to shout.”

“Is that so… For one thing, I can’t stand that mask of Seiryuou’s.” “While it may be inconvenient for him to remove it, we can’t help but be preoccupied with it during our investigation.” “As long as he doesn’t remove that mask, I can’t trust anything he does—no matter what it is.” “I think you’re overreading things there.”

The prosecutor looked at Chief Ooeyama with a troubled expression. “Therefore, I—” the chief cut in. “In that pillar were wedged a torn piece of clothing and a boot—but that wasn’t because Shisenkai had fled into it. Rather, he had prepared those two items beforehand, wedged them into the pillar to feign an escape inside, then concealed his recognizable scar with a mask and may now be posing as Seiryuou—or so I suspect.”

“Ha ha ha! You’re saying that if Seiryuou removes his mask, he’d be Shisenkai? No—that’s amusing. Ha ha ha!” “When it comes to anything suspicious, I don’t rest easy until I see evidence. And thanks to that, I’ve managed to avoid disgracing the position of chief investigator to this day...”

“Well, there’s no help for it then. If you think my vouching for his identity is useless, go ahead and remove his mask—I won’t mind in the slightest.” “No—it’s not that exactly, but… However, Seiryuou won’t be appearing tonight. If he flees, he’s already achieved his purpose.” As expected of the Chief Investigator, he had pointed out a flaw no one else had considered.

But at that very moment. The hidden pillar gaped open without a sound, and who should come leaping out from within but the masked detective—it was a pitiful situation indeed.

“Ugh—”

Chief Ooeyama groaned involuntarily, overwhelmed by shock.

Seiryuou spotted the prosecutors and stomped over to them. “Mr. Karikane.” “I’ve finally discovered Shisenkai’s escape route.” “Through the crawl space beneath this cabaret, one can reach the basement storage room.” “From there, you can immediately emerge outside.” “Is your command not being properly enforced? With not a single officer stationed in front of that storage room, it appears he managed to escape successfully.” “What? He went through this pillar to the storage room and escaped outside?”

Nodding as he turned toward Chief Ooeyama, Prosecutor Karikane said, “Why didn’t you look into such an escape route beforehand?” “Have the cabaret’s owner brought here at once.”

“Ha—” The chief wore a mortified expression and ordered his subordinates to haul in the cabaret’s owner. Soon, a large-bodied man in a neat tuxedo appeared from the back. He had an air about him that was somehow un-Japanese. That too made sense. He was a Greek man who went by the name Otto Pontos. “I am Otto, the owner here.—” Although it was difficult to gauge the age of a Westerner, Otto Pontos—who appeared to be two or three years past thirty—greeted them with a genial smile, his nearly six-foot-tall hulking frame bending slightly as he rubbed his hands together.

“So you’re the owner, eh?” the prosecutor said with a hint of astonishment. “There’s some outrageous contraption here, isn’t there? This pillar splits in two, has stairs inside, leads to the storage room—just what purpose does this serve, eh?”

“That, I do not know.” “This mechanism existed even before I purchased this building.” “What? This mechanism was here from the start?” “From whom did you buy it?”

“I purchased it through a broker.” “The broker’s name is on file—I shall provide it.”

“Hmm, Chief Ooeyama. Investigate that broker and identify the true owner.—That’s all well and good, but why was this escape route left as it was? Why did you inform Shisenkai and let him use it?” “I trusted Mr. Kitami Sensai—the man who goes by the name Shisenkai. That person brought a letter of introduction from a trusted source in my homeland of Greece.” “So he brought a letter of introduction from Greece. Ah—so Shisenkai was hiding in Greece. No—that’s quite enough. I will take my time hearing your story. However, if Shisenkai contacts you by phone or letter, you must immediately inform headquarters. Let me make this clear. Do not forget.”

“Understood.”

Just as Otto Pontos was about to bow respectfully once more, “Ah, one moment please.” a voice called out. It was the masked detective Seiryuou, who had been fiddling with Shisenkai’s left-behind items while listening to the ongoing conversation.

“Mr. Pontos. Isn’t this your property, eh?” With that, Seiryuou showed a small piece of paper. The cabaret owner took it in his hand, but it appeared to be a fragment of some architectural blueprint—with symbols for walls, stairs, and peculiar small chambers marked—though unfortunately, it seemed to be cut from the very edge, so with just this fragment alone, it was unclear what the diagram was meant to show.

“What is this?” “In any case, it does not belong to me.” Pontos returned the paper fragment to Seiryuou with a puzzled expression. “One more question—was last night Julia Akaboshi’s first time coming here?” “No—she has come often to perform.” “I have requested her services seven or eight times already.” “You appear to have been quite devoted to patronizing her.”

“That’s correct.” “Julia sings—the customers are pleased.” “I am also pleased.” “It’s quite a good money-making opportunity—ha ha ha!” Pontos left with an unmistakable laugh, and Chief Ooeyama abruptly seized Seiryuou’s arm.

“Produce something like the architectural blueprint.” “When and where did you get hold of that?” Seiryuou calmly brushed off the Chief’s hand and, “This?” “You were unaware of this, were you?” “Well now, it was sewn inside Shisenkai’s torn coat,” he said nonchalantly, then respectfully presented the paper fragment. “I shall now formally hand this over to Your Honor.”

Mysterious paper fragment!

What manner of secret could it possibly tell?

The Vanished Corpse

For reasons unknown, Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King), who had been away from his office for over ten days, nonchalantly appeared at the detective agency around noon the day after the Cabaret Etoile incident.

**The Masked Detective Returns!**

It was the brave boy detective Isamu who, sensing his presence, came flying out from the back.

“Ah. Seiryuou—I was certain you’d return today.”

With that, he welcomed the masked detective, who as ever wore a snug black hood over his head and concealed everything below his eyes with a triangular cloth. The detective gently tapped the boy’s shoulder with both hands. “Seiryuou, you were splendid last night. But I thought you’d call for us by now—you never called at all, so I’ve been so disappointed.” “I knew you and Ootsuji were there, but last night’s incident was dangerous—I didn’t want to have you assist.”

“In return, I intend to give you all sorts of travel stories, Seiryuou.” “The man killed under the stage last night—that’s Shizukazu Komuro, a dandy who used to visit Ryugu Theater almost every day.” “He was always right by the stage, and whenever Julia appeared, he’d be the first to start clapping loudly—a real creep.” “Any fan of Ryugu Theater knows about that man.”

“Ah, so that’s how it was,” said Seiryuou. “That’s useful information.” “The terrible slash on that dandy Komuro’s throat and the wound on the student killed in Hibiya Park—they’re connected, aren’t they?” said Isamu. “Which means both were done by a vampire!” “Hmm,” said Seiryuou, his eyes glinting briefly before resuming their usual gentle composure. “Right—let me have you recount that Hibiya Park incident in detail.”

Thereupon, the boy Isamu recounted everything he knew about the tragedy he had witnessed in Hibiya Park at twilight the previous day. Seiryuou listened intently while savoringly smoking cut tobacco from a bent pipe. “So according to your theory, Isamu—initially under May azaleas’ shade—he was happily conversing with his young lover.” “Midway through their conversation, the girl had some business to attend to and left, leaving the student behind.” “According to your theory, the vampire lay in wait until the student was alone, strangled him from behind, then slit his throat and drank his blood—is that right?”

“That’s exactly right, Seiryuou.”

“And then—did that young lover return to the scene?” “No.” Isamu shook his head. “I thought about that and waited a long time, but she never came back.” “That’s strange.” “If your account holds true, she should have returned by now.” “Did no woman resembling the lover pass by outside?” “Yes, that’s right,” Isamu replied, then suddenly straightened. “Ah! Now that you mention it, Julia Akaboshi did approach us.” “But that person claimed she was merely passing by in an automobile.” “And though she didn’t emerge from the automobile, Julia’s friend Chidori Yabashiri also drew near.” “But even so—these two couldn’t possibly…”

“But aside from these two, no other girl returned, correct? For now, we need to consider that possibility. Moreover, according to earlier accounts, Shirou—no, that student’s diary—dozens of its pages had been torn out at some point…” “Mr. Ootsuji is very angry about that. He insisted on questioning those two and went out today.”

“The right earring of Julia’s was securely in place, but the left one showed no stone—only the gold hoop remained fastened to her earlobe. This makes for an intriguing discovery, does it not?”

“I thought that the stone that fell from the earring might have dropped into the grass where the vampire was hiding, but I couldn’t find it.” “Then I thoroughly searched all the places I thought Julia had walked, but I still couldn’t find it.” “So I realized that the blue stone from Julia’s earring hadn’t been dropped around there after all.” “Seiryuou.” The boy said that and blinked rapidly. Seiryuou was vigorously drawing in purple smoke from his pipe, but eventually turned to face the boy,

“Did you search thoroughly around the boy’s corpse too?” “Of course I searched with a flashlight, but no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t find it.” “Hmm. Is that so?”

The boy stared intently at Seiryuou’s face. “You’re not suspecting Julia Akaboshi and her group, are you?” Seiryuou did not even attempt to respond and continued silently smoking the pipe. At that moment, the desk telephone’s bell trilled noisily. When the boy Isamu picked up the receiver and answered, the voice on the other end was that of Ootsuji, who should have been out questioning Julia Akaboshi.

“What? They’re saying a commotion’s broken out in Marunouchi?” “Since Seiryuou’s back, I’ll transfer you now—wait there.”

With that, he handed over the receiver. Seiryuou listened with thoughtful hums before finally hanging up the phone. "What's wrong, Seiryuou?" "Well now—they spotted Shisenkai passing through Ryugu Theater's back entrance and apparently traded gunfire with the police squad again." "Shisenkai slipped away in the end—wasted effort all around." "But they can't tell whether he'd been walking outside Ryugu Theater or came out from inside."

When one spoke of Ryugu Theater, anyone would immediately think of Julia—did this mean Julia was indeed connected to the case?

“But that’s strange.” “How could Shisenkai walk around in broad daylight without his terrifying profile being recognized?”

“Well, it’s said Shisenkai disguised himself as a country bumpkin, shouldering a trunk and skillfully concealing his birthmark.” “Ah, that’s a clever idea you came up with!” “Ha ha ha ha!” “Ootsuji met Julia and asked about the diary, but she said, ‘I don’t know.’ This is bad.” When Seiryuou entered his room, he slept soundly until evening. When dinner was ready, Isamu pressed the bell, and Seiryuou emerged. His face remained masked, making it impossible to discern his complexion, but his movements clearly appeared more energetic. And with Ootsuji joining them, the three sat together at the dining table for the first time in a while. However, there was no detective talk whatsoever. This was per Seiryuou’s standing orders.—When dinner ended, Seiryuou strolled out of the office without stating his destination.

Where had Shisenkai escaped to? Where was he hiding now?

The masked detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King) was now showing signs of confronting the horrifying vampire case in earnest. It went without saying that his whereabouts would ultimately lie in some quarter connected to this case.

However, that destination was kept a most closely guarded secret for now, and it would be proper to first describe the bizarre incident that occurred late that night at the university’s forensic medicine classroom. ―――――――――――――――

The sprawling university campus, surrounded by forest, was silence itself. This was especially true at the late hour of midnight. Owls occasionally hooted from the treetops, making it as eerie as a graveyard. Each tall, dilapidated wooden classroom looked as though ossuaries had transformed into them. And every window was pitch dark. There was but one building from whose window a yellow light leaked—as if forgotten, or like the glowing eye of some fiend. It was light leaking from the dissection room of the forensic medicine classroom.

Even when approaching, the curtains were drawn so deeply that it was impossible to tell what lay inside the window. Only the occasional clang of metal touching metal pierced the stillness of the night. That suspicious sound was clearly narrating the scene now unfolding inside the room.

It was a classroom where steeply tiered horseshoe-shaped desks rose in multiple tiers high. Facing the large central blackboard stood a stark white dissection table, placed in solitary prominence. Beside it stood another small table, upon which gleamed an array of scalpels in various sizes. Upon the dissection table lay a corpse waxen white as candle tallow, but judging by its stature, it appeared to belong to a boy. Two figures surrounded it, so intently engaged that their heads nearly touched. One wore a white surgical gown, taking up scalpels and scissors as he cut open the corpse’s throat. The other was a pale-faced young man, clad in a well-tailored suit. The surgeon was Professor Rouyama of the forensic medicine department; the pale-faced young man was one who had given his name as Ichiro Nishi. If we state this much, it should become clear that the corpse laid upon the table was that of Shirou Nishi—the first victim tormented by the vampire.

“Amateurs really shouldn’t rush their work, you know,” said Professor Rouyama. “After all,” he continued, “unless one proceeds by cutting open from throat to chest like this—removing everything from esophagus to trachea—then thoroughly examining each part step by step starting at the margins—there’s a risk of errors arising.” “Just as the saying goes—‘more haste, less speed.’”

“I’ve prepared myself for the time it will take.” “I’ll observe it even if I have to stay up all night tonight.”

“Hmm.” “The time from now until around two in the morning is when we’re at our most efficient.” “Your choice of timing was excellent.” “Though I don’t know how much this concerns your brother’s corpse, you are remarkably dedicated.” “If what you seek lies above here, I will assuredly discover it for you—rest easy on that count.” “Ah—the subcutaneous fat here is quite developed; using a scalpel proves rather laborious.” “Had I known this beforehand, I would’ve brought the electric scalpel…”

Just as he was saying this, Bzzzzzt—the large bell hanging on the wall rang out. It was all too sudden, so the professor, “Wh-what?!”

He nearly leapt up on the spot. "What could that be at this hour?" "Hmm... I wonder if someone's here." "That's strange for this late hour," the Professor muttered, tilting his head.

At that moment, the bell rang again with a loud BZZZZZT.

“I’ll go check.”

With that, the Professor set down his scalpel, opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway. The hallway was long. Finally reaching the entrance, he flicked on the light. “Who’s there?—” he shouted, but there was no response.

“Who’s there?—” Having said that, Professor Rouyama peered through the glass into the dark outside—startled by something— With a startled “Gah! This is bad!” he plopped down on his rear then and there and called out loudly for Ichiro Nishi. The voice should have been audible in the dissection room, but Nishi, for some reason, did not emerge for quite some time. Professor Rouyama suddenly plummeted to the depths of terror, found himself unable to speak, and could only flail his limbs wildly.

“What’s wrong, Professor?!” When a lively voice echoed from within, Ichiro Nishi finally rushed over. The sound seemed to have reached Nishi at last. “Just now—a suspicious man glared through that windowpane. Something like a pistol glinted—then my legs simply gave way.” Professor Rouyama’s voice wavered slightly. “Though I must say… this is rather mortifying.” “A suspicious man, you say?”

Ichiro bravely stepped to the door and peered into the dark outside. However, he saw no sign of any suspicious figures. Assuming the professor must have seen some sort of phantom, he lifted him and supported him by the shoulder. “Ah! Your hands are cold.” “Your hands are wet, aren’t they?” “Did you wash your hands over there?” “No, it’s not like that…” “Why did you wash your hands? “What on earth were you doing?” “I won’t tolerate any violation of the forensic laboratory’s sanctity!”

Ichiro, supporting the professor—whose mouth remained his only functional feature—firmly by the shoulder, walked down the hallway back toward the dissection room.

“Oh, something’s wrong!” Ichiro cried out. “What’s wrong?” the Professor demanded, grabbing Ichiro by the collar. “Hmm, this is strange. The lights in the dissection room are off. Did you turn them off?” “No, it wasn’t me.” “I didn’t turn them off.” “There are too many strange things here; let’s proceed quietly.” “Please don’t make a sound.” “Is that clear?”

The two of them quietly approached the doorway. Then they peered intently into the pitch-black interior. The two of them came within a hair’s breadth of letting out a startled cry. Though they couldn’t tell who it was, someone was shining a flashlight over the dissection table. But it vanished immediately, and the room sank back into stygian darkness. Instead, there came an ominous sound—a heavy, scraping noise, as if something were being dragged across the floor. Ichiro whispered to the Professor and asked about the location of the light switch inside the room. It was apparently installed on the wall immediately inside the room. Without heeding the Professor’s attempts to stop him, he eagerly leaped forward, groped for the switch in the pitch darkness, and flicked on the light. Instantly, the room filled with a dazzling light as if to rival daylight.

“Gah! A suspicious man!” When they looked, the window corresponding to the blackboard’s left side stood open, where a man was in mid-escape with one leg already over the sill.

“Wait!” When he called out, the suspicious man whirled back toward the room. Ah, that terrifying face! On his left cheek had appeared a distinctly visible mark shaped like a large birthmark. “Ah! That’s him!” As Ichiro shouted this, he restrained Professor Rouyama—who was still trying to break free and lunge at the assailant—by the waist and dragged him into the shadow of the podium.

Blam-blam! Before the earsplitting gunshot could fully register, a bullet whizzed past their ears and shattered the glass window at the hallway’s far end with a crash. Had Ichiro’s intervention come even one second later, a hole might have pierced through the Professor’s forehead.

For five minutes—the two of them remained frozen stiff like abalone, crouching in the shadow of the podium. Deeming it safe enough now, they timidly raised their heads and looked toward the window—still left wide open, with no sign of the suspicious man anymore. Professor Rouyama, having let out a sigh of relief, shifted his gaze to the dissection table—and froze in horror.

“We’ve been tricked!—The corpse has vanished!”

Sure enough, only the covering remained on the dissection table—the corpse that should have been there until moments ago had vanished without a trace.

“That bastard stole it! Look here!” Ichiro pointed at the floor. “There are drag marks from the corpse leading all the way to the window. After dumping it out the window, he climbed through and escaped!” “Yes, no doubt. Go after him at once!” “It’s too late. He’s already gone…” “What are you saying? Isn’t that your brother’s corpse?” “Even if we caught up, we’d just get shot. Let’s call the Metropolitan Police instead.”

“I’ve never met a cowardly young man like you before.” “You’re hopeless.”

The Professor kept muttering angrily for some time.

Why had Shisenkai, who had been wandering around Marunouchi in broad daylight, stolen the corpse late at night? Why hadn’t Ichiro pursued his younger brother’s corpse? Was he truly a coward?

Radiant Diva

The very next day, Ichiro Nishi strolled into Marunouchi. And he boldly entered the dressing room of Ryugu Theater mid-performance. Julia Akaboshi’s starring role in *“Red Strawberry Fruit”* appeared to be a sensation, as the theater had been packed with an audience since noon. It was now precisely intermission, but the promenade corridors, smoking rooms, and cafeteria alike overflowed with crowds rapturously mimicking the melody of *“Red Strawberry Fruit”* through whistles and tapping feet. Though this tune dominated the zeitgeist, it remained a truly dreadful melody.

“Well now—wait a moment, Mr. Nishi.”

Julia cheerfully welcomed Ichiro. “No—thank you for promptly granting my request,” he said. “With this, I can rise above the ranks of the unemployed.” Ichiro had asked Julia and been accepted as a trainee member of the revue troupe. He was a tall, handsome man with a natural aptitude for music and particular fondness for tap dancing—in which he had some experience—which had led him to make this bold request to Julia for employment. Though typically of a self-willed disposition, she had perhaps taken sympathy on Ichiro—whose younger brother had been killed—and willingly taken the trouble to secure the manager’s consent.

“Oh my—if you thank me so formally, I’ll be quite flustered.” “But I do want you to study hard… for my reputation’s sake too, since I was the one who introduced you.”

“Yes, I may be a free spirit who causes trouble, but I intend to commit fully to my craft.” “How dependable you are.” “I want you to improve quickly so we can partner up and dance together.” “No way—” Ichiro laughed, but Julia—for some reason—did not laugh back. Her dreamlike eyes remained fixed intently on his face until she seemed to snap back to herself moments later, finally offering a soft smile. “Ho, ho, ho…”

Ichiro felt as though he had been drinking in Julia’s beauty. To simply call it beautiful would not suffice—the kind of alluring beauty that captivates was precisely Julia’s beauty. It was no wonder she had a million fans in the capital. Ichiro recalled how he had once pored over a foreign art book containing Leon Perault’s painting *Venus Riding a Chariot*. There had been a golden chariot amidst waves where Venus sat nude—the goddess of beauty combing her hair while smiling alluringly. He felt Julia Akaboshi possessed that same tormenting beauty found in Perault’s Venus. It was an exotic beauty somehow divorced from Japanese sensibilities. She bore a beauty perfectly suited to her Western-style stage name “Julia.”

Julia picked up the receiver for Ichiro’s sake and called the manager’s office. But unfortunately, it was said that the manager had business to attend to and had not yet come to the theater. “Then you won’t wait here?” “Yes, I’ll have you wait. In the meantime, I would like to give Ms. Julia a gift—” With that, Ichiro looked at Julia’s face. “A gift, you say? “Well, you’re such a stickler for formalities, aren’t you?” “—What exactly are you giving me?”

“This is it, but――”

Ichiro took out a small paper box from his pocket and placed it in front of Julia. “Oh my, what is this?” Julia took the small box and opened the lid. Inside lay a pure white cotton quilt, upon which rested a single blue emerald gemstone. “This is—”

The color drained from Julia’s face. She sprang up like a coiled spring, dashed toward the entrance, turned her back to the door, then whirled around to fix Ichiro with a piercing glare. “You… me…” “Ms. Julia, you mustn’t misunderstand. Now, now—calm down and come over here.” Ichiro made Julia sit back in her original seat, but the beautiful queen was trembling with excitement.

“This is the gemstone that fell from your earring, isn’t it? This is something I picked up and kept—it’s an item that would cause trouble if the police or detectives found out about it. I’ll return it to you as a souvenir.” Julia seemed to acknowledge that Ichiro bore no malice—hurriedly clasping the blue gemstone in her palm—but whether she couldn’t contain her turbulent emotions, she burst into tears and collapsed onto the vanity. Even so—when and where had Ichiro picked up the gemstone from the fallen earring?

“Ms. Julia.” “Please tell me.” “You were meeting Shirou under the satsuki azaleas in Hibiya Park, weren’t you?”

“……” Julia stopped crying.

“I’ve deduced it.” “In other words, I figured it out from where the earring had fallen.” “Where had this been dropped?” Julia exclaimed, lifting her face.

“It was from the grassy thicket where Shirou had collapsed.” “It’s a lie. I searched everywhere, but I couldn’t find it.” “It was buried in the ground. Probably trampled in by the crowd’s shoes.” “Oh, so that was it… What a relief.”

All of that had been Ichiro’s lie. To tell the truth, he had discovered it from Shirou’s corpse the previous night. When Professor Rouyama heard the bell and stepped out into the forensic medicine classroom’s corridor, Ichiro seized the opportunity to act on his long-held conviction. He forced open the oral cavity of Shirou’s corpse, thrust his hand inside, and probed all the way down to the throat—sure enough, he found a clue, and the earring’s gemstone emerged. In truth, he had intended to have Professor Rouyama incise the esophagus and trachea to check for the gemstone’s presence, but upon hearing the suspicious bell, he swiftly discerned the imminent crisis and resorted to a drastic measure—forcing his way through, only to luckily catch the gemstone on his fingertip. For an amateur, it was a remarkably skillful feat. The reason they had allowed Shisenkai—who later barged in and stole the corpse—to slip away was likely because he had already obtained this earring’s gemstone by then, and moreover sought to avoid a perilous chase. In any case, the gemstone from Julia’s earring had been discovered within Shirou’s oral cavity. Why it had ended up there was a question, but why was Ichiro deliberately lying to Julia about where he had discovered it?

“Ms. Julia. Did Shirou ever mention to you anything about being resented by someone?”

From this, it seemed Ichiro was indeed attempting to uncover the culprit who had murdered his beloved younger brother Shirou. “Ah, Mr. Ichiro,” Julia said, raising her face with a pained expression. “I’ll tell you everything—and I’ll return the pages I tore from your brother’s diary.”

Julia took out the torn diary from the costume trunk and handed it to Ichiro. That was undoubtedly Shirou’s handwritten diary—the same one Ootsuji had initially discovered by the corpse on the day Shirou was killed and found torn when he saw it a second time. Ichiro voraciously read through them. “If you read it carefully, you’ll understand—Shirou and I became friends after meeting on Chiba’s coast.” “It was merely a close friendship—I wasn’t in love with him, so please don’t misunderstand me, alright? That day too, Shirou came to meet me.” “Then evening came, and while strolling through Hibiya with Shirou as we talked under those satsuki azaleas, I heard my automobile’s horn—the one I’d left waiting nearby. So I said, ‘Wait here for a bit, okay? I’ll be right back,’ and left him there while heading toward Hibiya’s east gate.” “There I found my automobile and went to pick him up intending to bring him along, but when I returned to the azalea shade...Shirou had been killed.” “I panicked—but knowing how scandal could ruin someone in my profession if caught lingering—I tried to leave. Yet since that diary he’d shown me contained so much about me...I couldn’t risk leaving it behind...so I tore out those pages I just gave you.” “Then soon after...everyone found me.” “That’s everything.”

“Ah, I see,” Ichiro said with a deep nod. “So the earring’s gemstone was also dropped at that time. Since it would be troublesome if this were found, you went back to search for it later—that’s the case, isn’t it?” “You’re exactly right. As for the gemstone, I didn’t notice until after entering the dressing room. I searched everywhere. I’m truly grateful. But please don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Yes, I’ll keep quiet.” “In exchange, please tell me if you saw anything that looked like the culprit.”

“The culprit? As for anything resembling the culprit—nobody saw a thing—”

Just as she was saying this, the phone rang. It was a call from the manager who had emerged, requesting to meet Ichiro Nishi immediately. Then, Ichiro went to the manager’s office. Thanks to Julia’s intercession, everything was settled on favorable terms. Today, it was decided that the apprentices would make an appearance at just the third act of “Red Strawberry Fruit.” And he introduced them to the people in the common room.

Ichiro went to Julia’s room to report it, but the door was locked. That was only natural, for Julia was currently on stage performing in an operetta. Beside the stage curtain stood two men who appeared to be critics with their shoulders nearly touching, marveling at Julia’s impassioned performance. “Julia is truly a once-in-a-century genius.” “Just look at that fervor and depth… Today’s rendition is exceptionally masterful.”

“I completely agree.” “Where does that passion even come from?” “There’s just no imitating her.—” “Julia has days when she’s in exceptionally fine form, you know.” “Today is exactly that kind of day.” “It’s almost frightening to watch.” “Exactly.” “I’d wanted to say that too.” “I watch Julia every day, but I distinctly remember the days when she’s in fine form.” “Three times on this day alone… and today makes four…”

“You remember well.”

“Well, there’s a reason I remember that.” “Strangely enough, it’s because those were the days when the extra editions and newspapers came out reporting the vampire’s appearances.”

“Haha—so maybe those incidents stimulate Julia somehow?” “But wait now—today I didn’t see any newspaper articles about vampires producing victims!”

“Ha ha! Looks like you’ve finally been had.” “Ha ha ha!”

“Ha ha ha!” Whether out of disgust for the critics or not, Ichiro left the place with an angry expression.

Shisenkai’s Aerial Burial

At that exact moment in the investigation headquarters, Prosecutor Karikane and Chief Ooeyama sat facing each other with grim expressions. On the desk lay the fragment of an architectural blueprint that Seiryuou had discovered among Shisenkai’s clothes. “You may say that, Prosecutor Karikane, but I still find that masked detective highly suspicious,” Chief Ooeyama declared, once again raising the banner of opposition against Seiryuou. “First and foremost, that mask is unacceptable. There’s fierce discontent among our subordinates at headquarters. If we keep allowing that mask to go unchecked, we may face a catastrophic breakdown in organizational discipline.”

“Don’t trouble yourself about it.” “It’s hardly worth getting so heated over.” “He’s merely a private detective.” “We called again just now, but Seiryuou remains unaccounted for.” “Prior to this, he’d vanished for ten days straight.” “Now now, let it rest.” “That man isn’t capable of true villainy.”

“Speaking of missing persons, there’s that man Ichiro Nishi, you know.” “We trusted him because he was the victim’s brother—but I tell you, the man’s no joke.” “One moment he’s unemployed and idling around the house; the next he disappears somewhere and doesn’t return for several nights.” “The caretaker is being paid, yet she finds it creepy.” “It was the same last night.” “He deceived Professor Rouyama into performing an autopsy on Shirou’s corpse for unknown purposes, and while that was underway, summoned a ruffian and had the corpse stolen.” “Yet he claims Shisenkai was the one who stole it.” “He’s a fake brother!” “A real brother would exert every effort to chase down and retrieve that corpse.”

“No, he is the real brother.” “I’ve kept up appearances before my subordinates and reporters long enough—as of today, I’ll stop that and declare my true thoughts. First off, this Cabaret Etoile incident today left me thoroughly displeased, being outmaneuvered by that brat from Seiryuou’s gang.” Just as he spoke these words, a waiter entered and announced a telephone call for Prosecutor Karikane. “Ha ha, Karikane speaking, but—”

When he answered the phone, the caller turned out to be none other than the masked detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King), the very source of the rumors.

“There was a new vampire incident today, wasn’t there?” “Oh, you’ve already caught wind of that? I had intended to keep that absolutely confidential, but actually—” As if he had completely forgotten his current conversation with Chief Ooeyama, the prosecutor began discussing the confidential incident. When a little before noon today they dispatched officers to Cabaret Etoile to investigate the aforementioned incident and provide escort, they found all employees present but reported that the owner Otto Pontos was missing. When they checked Pontos’s bedroom, there were indeed traces of someone having slept in the bed, but Pontos was nowhere to be found. Upon closer inspection they found two or three spots on the floor where pooled human blood had been wiped away. Another odd detail was that inside the room a portable gramophone had been left playing—and the record left on it was none other than Julia Akaboshi’s recording of “Red Strawberry Fruit.” Even now Pontos’s whereabouts remain unknown.—

After relaying this information and seeking Seiryuou’s opinion, Prosecutor Karikane heard him click his tongue in irritation over the phone before he spoke.

“Prosecutor Karikane, Pontos was killed sometime between last night and around noon today.”

“You think so? Who killed him?—” “The vampire killed him, naturally.” “The corpse should be nearby.” “Strange it hasn’t been found yet.” “So it was the vampire after all.” “That makes three now.” “This signals a full-fledged killer’s emergence.—Where are you right now?” “Isamu’s been looking for you—did he find you?” “I can’t disclose my location.” “Is that so? What did Isamu say?—”

Just as he reached that point—startled by something—Seiryuou, on the other end of the phone, “Hmm—” he groaned. And then, “Prosecutor, I’ll contact you again later—” With that, the phone clattered and disconnected.

“4:10 PM.—”

With that, the prosecutor quietly checked his watch. As if he had been waiting for this moment, Chief Ooeyama called out. “We’ve located where the Blue Dragon King is.” “I just had the telephone company investigate it.” “The Blue Dragon King just made a call from inside Ryugu Theater.” “I will detain him for questioning under my official authority…” “4:10 PM.—”

As if he couldn’t hear Chief Ooeyama’s words, the prosecutor quietly repeated the same phrase.

Just a little before that exact moment, in Julia Akaboshi’s room at Ryugu Theater, a truly horrifying spectacle—as if it were a scene from some play—was unfolding. Julia Akaboshi had been performing in the operetta, but having completed her role as the Goddess of the South Seas midway through the production, she found herself able to return to her dressing room alone—the rest of the troupe having taken their positions for the finale that would commence without her. She entered her private room and began removing the goddess costume. Normally Chidori Yabashiri would assist her, but with Chidori unexpectedly assigned a role in the finale and now onstage, Julia had no choice but to undress herself.

She stood before a large five-panel makeup mirror and first removed the queen’s crown. Then, after sitting down, she crouched and began removing the long boots and socks. There was nothing as pleasant as when, the performance finished, she took off her socks and became barefoot. She quietly massaged her translucent white, supple shin with her fingertips. And just as she stood up again to remove her costume, she suddenly sensed a presence in the room. Startled, she whirled around to look behind her.

“Be quiet. “Don’t move—I’ll shoot.—” Though she hadn’t noticed his arrival, a sinister man now stood rigidly glaring at Julia. In his left hand he clutched an antiquated large-caliber pistol, his features twisted like an Asura’s. On one cheek bulged a horrifying crab-shaped black nevus. This could only be the infamous bandit Shisenkai, whose notoriety had spread through every rumor. Julia merely paled slightly. Showing no particular alarm, she positioned the makeup mirror behind her and fixed Shisenkai with a piercing stare before parting her crimson lips,

“Hurry up and get out. You shouldn’t have any business here anymore.” “Nah, still plenty left,” he snarled, jerking his chin. “If I don’t take what I came for, comin’ back to Japan’d be a waste.—” “That’s not very manly.—”

“Call it whatever you like.” “First of all, what I want is this.—” Shisenkai edged closer to Julia, grabbed the large metal-adorned necklace around her neck, and yanked it off forcefully. The thread snapped, beads scattering across the floor. Shisenkai ignored them; taking the metal piece in his palm, he deftly pried open its back with one hand. Inside was a scrap of paper covered in tiny handwritten characters. Shisenkai grinned and,

“It’s mine after all.—” “Get out. If you dawdle, someone will come.”

“Not so fast! “There’s still one more thing I need to take.—” “You wretch—” Shisenkai cast aside the pistol and pounced at Julia like a ferocious tiger. His thick wrist clamped around her throat in a crushing grip. “Huh—?!” The makeup mirror slammed backward against the windowpane beneath her cry, shattering with a deafening crash. At that instant. The entrance door burst open with a thunderous kick—a young man charged in—

“Ah, Mr. Ichiro, help me—!” “You villain—what do you think you’re doing?!” The young man was Ichiro Nishi. Without even time to respond to Julia, he displayed an uncharacteristic bravery and suddenly grappled Shisenkai from behind. “What’s this insolence, you impudent brat?!” Shisenkai calmly let Ichiro maintain the grapple.

“Julia—you’ll learn your lesson soon enough!” With a yell, he wrenched his body free. Despite Ichiro’s vigor, he was instantly hurled aside by that demonic strength.

“Come on, everyone—charge! The police squad’s here, so we’re safe!” Hearing this shout, reinforcements rushed in. Shisenkai clicked his tongue at the mention of police, shoved aside the theater youths crowding the entrance, and bolted into the corridor. In an instant, he tried to descend the stairs—but spotting Chief Ooeyama and his men surging upward from below,

“Yah!” [He] twisted his body, broke through the open window there, and fled to the roof. “Don’t let him escape!”

The group rushed out onto the roof in pursuit. Despite his massive frame, Shisenkai nimbly darted here and there but finally concealed himself behind the tallest tower. “Now then, surround him from three directions! Charge!” Chief Ooeyama deftly issued the command. But just then, the rope of the Ryugu Theater’s dedicated advertising balloon—which had been swaying listlessly beyond the tower—began to quiver unnaturally. No sooner had Shisenkai’s figure appeared atop the tower than his body slithered upward into the sky.

“Hah!” “Shisenkai cut the balloon’s rope!”

Someone shouted, but it was already too late. The splendid balloon swiftly soared into the empty sky, and Shisenkai’s black figure dangling from it rapidly grew smaller and smaller. “Hmph—he had the gall,” Chief Ooeyama growled, glaring at a corner of the sky, then barked: “Alright! Someone call Haneda Airport—get planes up now to chase that balloon!”

The group continued gazing up at the sky for a long time. From Haneda Airport came a report that high-speed passenger planes and practice aircraft with strong climbing power had immediately taken off to search for the balloon. Hearing this, the group stood rooted in place, their gaze divided equally between the sky where the advertising balloon had vanished and Haneda's airspace, staring endlessly. Chief Ooeyama turned aside and muttered to himself, addressing no one in particular.

“I was certain the Masked Detective had come, yet I couldn’t find him anywhere. Instead, I located Shisenkai, only to let him slip away again.” “In that case, I’ll haul in that Ichiro Nishi I spotted over there.” However, by the time the Chief descended below, Ichiro Nishi’s figure had also vanished.

The Tragedy of Pachino’s Grave

When night’s curtain had fully enveloped the imperial capital, a report arrived at headquarters from Haneda Airport. “We searched for the Ryugu Theater’s advertising balloon, but unfortunately our departure was delayed. Though we ascended to an altitude of three thousand meters, we ultimately failed to locate it. As darkness fell and visibility became completely obstructed, we had no choice but to descend. It is truly regrettable.” At the investigation headquarters too, this was deeply regrettable. Letting Shisenkai escape after finally cornering him on the roof was particularly galling. However, even if Shisenkai were invulnerable, being blown away to such heights would make his safe return seem highly improbable, it was thought. When some began suggesting this had effectively been Shisenkai’s sky burial, the mood at headquarters brightened slightly.

“This vampire case should be wrapped up now, I suppose.” “It ended without us ever grasping the full picture—can’t help feeling it’s a shame though.”

Hearing this, Chief Ooeyama slammed the desk resolutely. “Even if the vampire case is resolved, there are still plenty of unresolved matters.” “To maintain the peace and order of the imperial capital, we will see this through to the end.” “If anyone here dares to rest easy now, I won’t have it!” The group fell silent at his angry shout. Then, with the briskness cultivated through experience, Chief Ooeyama proceeded to enumerate each and every immediate issue requiring investigation.

“First, locate Otto Pontos—owner of Cabaret Etoile—whose status as alive or dead remains unconfirmed.” “Second, since the Ryugu Theater balloon that Shisenkai escaped aboard is expected to crash somewhere, have alerts issued nationwide to be on the lookout.” “At the same time, check whether Shisenkai’s corpse has fallen with the balloon or crashed nearby.” “However, based on past experience, the balloon will naturally descend within forty-eight hours.” “Third, upon sighting the masked detective, immediately report to the chief.” “In carrying out these matters, the following personnel assignments will be made: ――”

Having said that, he assigned the responsible supervisors and staff. The group resolved to uncover everything by any means necessary and gain the chief’s approval.

Unaware that such a perilous affair had been set upon him, the Masked Detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King) was talking on the phone with his young subordinate Yuu, paying no heed to the police raid unfolding on Ryugu Theater’s rooftop.

“So, Yuu-kun—what exactly are these ancient documents you discovered in the hidden cupboard of Pontos’s room?”

“It was all foreign characters I couldn’t understand, so I had no choice but to show them to Mr. Ootsuji—he said these were Greek.” “Mr. Ootsuji apparently studied Greek long ago, so he managed to read it with a dictionary, though it took effort. Here’s what he said was written: ‘In Meiji 2 [1869], a Greek man named Pachino arrived in Tokyo with ten subordinates and established residence. By the following year, an epidemic caused his subordinates to perish one after another, leaving Pachino alone. Yet Pachino himself fell ill and, knowing his time was short, built a custom coffin and descended into the earth to die.’ Then another, newer document states: ‘Due to frequent fires and the passage of time, the exact location of Pachino’s grave became unclear, leaving only the place name “Ginza” behind.’” “Furthermore, Pachino formed a relationship with a Japanese woman named Osumi, but she perished in a disaster, and the child born between them—surname unknown—became missing, their fate unknown.” “Along with that, important documents concerning Pachino’s grave were lost, leaving only a few communications sent to his home country and the architectural blueprint of the grave’s interior—or so it says.” “Are you listening, Blue Dragon King?”

“No need to worry—I’m listening intently.” “Understood.” “Pontos—owner of Cabaret Etoile—came from his homeland searching for that Pachino Grave.” “Meanwhile, Shisenkai happened to sniff out this secret—obtained the grave’s architectural blueprints in his homeland before returning to Japan.” “All secrets lie buried within that Pachino Grave.” “As for the grave’s location—I’ve some leads—but tracking down Pachino’s surviving kin will prove thorny.” “Yet I believe everything resides within that burial pit.” “Now then, Yuu—”

“Please wait.” “Where is the Blue Dragon King right now?” “Where are you going now?”

“As for me, you needn’t worry at all—” With those words, the Blue Dragon King hung up the receiver. Unable to contain his anxiety, young Yuu contacted the telephone exchange—and discovered to his astonishment that the Blue Dragon King’s call had indeed originated from within Ryugu Theater itself. Where could he possibly be hiding?

Two days passed in vain.

The case showed no signs of resolving as hoped, but on the other hand, no new vampire incidents occurred. Had the vampire finally perished?

To elaborate, on the afternoon of the 7th, the balloon that Shisenkai had escaped aboard was discovered fallen in the mountainous forests of Hakone. However, strangely enough, the balloon was found beneath dead leaves. And as for Shisenkai’s body in question, it was nowhere to be found. Upon this report, the police under jurisdiction launched a concerted effort to locate Shisenkai’s corpse.

That same night.

When Ichiro Nishi was present in Julia Akaboshi’s dressing room, a telephone call reached her from an unknown source. When she answered the call, the caller claimed to be the masked detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King). “He says he’s Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King). Oh? What business could you possibly have with *me*?” Julia asked suspiciously. The voice on the phone then informed her that while Shisenkai’s balloon had been discovered, his corpse remained missing; that at twilight near a riverbank at the foot of Hakone’s mountains, someone had reportedly seen a man resembling Shisenkai drinking water; and that upon later checking the riverbank as a precaution, they had found a scrap of paper which, when opened, bore a blood-written note stating: “Conquer Pachino Grave.”

“Conquer Pachino Grave, you say?” Julia asked back, her voice involuntarily rising in apparent shock. The voice on the phone responded, “Yes—I don’t understand what it means, but it definitely says ‘Pachino,’” before hanging up. Julia collapsed into the armchair. Ichiro Nishi spoke to Julia as if he had been barely waiting for the call to end. “Did Blue Dragon King himself call you?”

“Yes, that’s right.—Why…” “Ha ha, it’s nothing at all.” Clear signs of agitation showed in Ichiro’s manner, but Julia appeared not to notice. Unlike the Blue Dragon King’s call, the main police headquarters received only repetitive reports even late into the night—“Shisenkai’s corpse remains undiscovered, nor has any Shisenkai-like individual been found loitering within jurisdiction”—which served solely to irritate Chief Ooeyama’s already frayed nerves.

In the dead of night, just as the clock struck twelve, a creaking sound—like something hard grinding—was heard from the direction of Cabaret Etoile’s basement, now closed for business, devoid of residents, and transformed into a veritable haunted mansion. Though uniformed police officers were stationed at both the front and back of Etoile, the faint, eerie sound from underground remained far too subtle to reach their ears. Who on earth had made that suspicious sound?

Had there been someone peering into the basement at that moment, they would have noticed the pile of empty barrels in the corner twisting slightly in an odd manner. Or rather, had one looked more carefully, they would have seen that the corner of the wall supporting those barrels had split vertically—and into that fissure, a black shadow slipped. There lay a concealed secret staircase leading further into the earth's depths. The shadowy figure descended cautiously, his flashlight beam ceaselessly sweeping across the surrounding walls. Then, whether by chance or some trick of light, his face was abruptly illuminated—revealing a giant of sturdy build, his features masked from eyes downward by black cloth, his hat's brim pulled low over his head. The masked stranger—come to think of it, his attire matched Seiryuou's down to the last stitch. Ah—had the Blue Dragon King finally come barging in?

He silently descended the stairs. The area below appeared quite spacious. Wasn’t this the structure of an Edo-period hidden storehouse? What was he doing down there? Only the occasional clattering sounds could be heard, yet no matter how much time passed, he did not emerge. A dreadful silence, a dreadful underground moment! At that moment, a faint whistle seemed to sound somewhere. People probably doubted it might have been their imagination. But it was unmistakably a whistle. A melody growing gradually clearer. Ah, it was Julia Akaboshi’s signature “Red Strawberry Fruit” melody—yet in this instance, what a terrifying whistle it was. The dark walls, like a demonic entity, accompanied that eerie melody. ...and suddenly—utterly without warning—a soul-rending scream echoed up from the depths.

“Kyaaah! Ugh... ugh...”

However, that was all. The scream came only once and was never heard again. A shudder-inducing tragedy unfolded in those subterranean depths.

Let us go to that scene.

What a gruesome sight this was.—There lay a small underground chamber that seemed to be a dead end. A man lay sprawled backward as if grasping at empty air. Next to him lay a large box that had been thrown down. Its lid was thrown open. From within, something white peeked out—but upon closer inspection, it was a grotesque skeleton. And around it, round gold coins glittered brightly. Gold coins were also scattered haphazardly across the ground. Beside them lay a torn fragment of an architectural blueprint. It was undoubtedly Shisenkai’s treasured blueprint. All these ghastly sights were vividly illuminated by a single flashlight.

The flashlight moved quietly. —and illuminated the face of the corpse hidden in the shadow of the box. First to catch the eye was the deep wound in the throat—as if gouged by a sharp blade—Indeed, just as that whistle had sounded earlier, an utterly cruel vampire had emerged. The hat was gone, but the black cloth of the mask covered beneath glaringly exposed white eyes. Ah, this was the shadowy figure who had descended into these depths earlier. And anyone who knew would have recognized this as none other than the now-famous masked detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King). Ah, Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King) was killed. Why was he slaughtered so brutally in this subterranean place?

“Are you ready? Let’s try taking off this mask.”

A man’s voice came from the darkness. That must have been the voice of the person holding the flashlight.

Within the beam of light, an arm abruptly emerged. It reached toward the corpse’s mask and grasped the black cloth. The mask peeled away with a slow, sliding motion. And indeed, from beneath it emerged a lifeless face. Ah, that face—on its waxen cheek was an ugly scar shaped like a crab... “Oh, this is Shisenkai Senzai…” What a dreadful turn of events. Was the masked detective none other than Shisenkai Senzai? But how strange. Could such a thing be possible? But there, meeting a gruesome end, was undoubtedly the fiend Shisenkai.

"You speak of Pontos, who remains missing, but anyone would demand your explanation," said the man with the flashlight. That voice sounded familiar. "No, I am not the culprit," "This Julia was cleverly lured here by your phone call." "It’s a trap—a horrible trap!" "Ah, I..." The voice wracked with convulsive sobs was, astonishingly, none other than Julia Akaboshi—the reigning prima donna of Ryugu Theater, now at the height of her fame.

That explained everything. This was Pachino’s Grave. What in the world had transpired in this dead of night? Who was the man accusing Julia? And where could the vampire that appeared in those subterranean depths be hiding now?

Life or death, masked detective.

Chief Ooeyama of the Metropolitan Police Department’s Investigative Division—feared like a demon god by Tokyo’s underworld—awoke that morning to a pleasantness he hadn’t felt in ages. It was due to last night’s gentle rain. Or perhaps it was because four days had already passed since Shisenkai Senzai’s aerial burial, letting him believe the vampire incident had been resolved.—Still in nightclothes, the chief stepped out onto the veranda.

“—Hands on hips, knees half-bent! Starting with leg exercises—ready... begin!” In sync with the radio’s shouted commands of “One! Two! Three!”, the Chief began his calisthenics, vigorously swinging his massive frame. He felt, for some reason, a childlike joy and happiness welling up from the depths of his belly.

“Alright! With this vigor, I’ll wipe out all the villains threatening the lives of the imperial capital’s citizens!” The Chief continued his calisthenics with motions as if pummeling those villains, rhythmically counting “one-two.” But that joy did not last long. For there, waiting in the shadows, was the tragedy of Pachino Grave—a horror poised to plunge Chief Ooeyama’s confidence into the abyss. The news of last night’s Pachino Grave incident arrived via a phone call from Prosecutor Karikane, its shrill, insistent ringing unceremoniously cutting short the Chief’s radio calisthenics.

“Good morning. “Yes, this is Ooeyama speaking…” “Ah, Ooeyama,” barked Prosecutor Karikane on the other end, his voice sharp as a whipcrack. “You’re in a foul mood, huh? Are all your subordinates suffering from sleeping sickness? “If that’s the case, I’ll have them all hospitalized and request support from the military police—” The prosecutor’s words were uncharacteristically sharp, like needles. “Wh-what on earth has happened?” “I still don’t know anything about it…”

“You don’t know? Do you think this will end here? Immediately enter Cabaret Etoile’s underground and inspect Pachino Grave. Then have all officers guarding the cabaret’s entrances admitted to the Communicable Disease Research Institute at once. Understood?”

With a clack, the phone went dead. Ooeyama had never before known an instance where the prosecutor had been this furious. What could have happened to the guards at Etoile? What in the world was this Pachino Grave? He stood frozen for a time, feeling as though a fox had pinched his nose, but soon snapped back to his senses. Hastily donning his uniform and fastening his dagger, he practically tumbled into the waiting convertible automobile at the gate.

“Oi, step on it! To Ginza’s Cabaret Etoile. If this takes more than twelve minutes, you’re going to the hospital too!”

The driver didn’t understand why he’d been told such a thing, but thinking that being sent to the hospital would spell trouble, he sent the car hurtling forward at a ferocious speed. At the cabaret, Prosecutor Karikane had already arrived first, sitting on a sofa white with accumulated dust while busily manufacturing stubs of Asahi cigarettes. And then, when Chief Ooeyama appeared, “Ah, Ooeyama, you may rejoice.” “We’ll be splashed across the evening papers again and grow even more notorious.” “All thanks to your negligence.”

The Demon Chief had no words to retort. He then requested a crime scene inspection. Prosecutor Karikane discarded his freshly lit cigarette into the ashtray and barked, “I wanted to see your face during the inspection,” but then abruptly lowered his voice, adopting his usual tone. “Truly, it’s like a stage specially set for you. But we must eradicate all preconceptions without fail.”

While thinking he was being told something strange, Chief Ooeyama took the lead ahead of Prosecutor Karikane and descended into the depths via the underground secret passage. It is said that the chthonic depths hold infinite allure, but never could they have imagined that such allure would lie beneath this cabaret they had so thoroughly investigated.

As the crumbling narrow stone staircase ended and they finally entered the so-called Pachino Grave, temporary electric lights blazed brilliantly, illuminating every corner of the cave strewn with gold coins. The skeleton in the coffin remained just as it had been the previous night—and so too did the corpse of Shisenkai Senzai, frozen in death with hands clawing at empty air. Compared to last night’s scene, the difference lay in the absence of Ryugu Theater’s prima donna, Julia Akaboshi, and the suspicious man who had been shining a flashlight beside her.

“I knew it!” Chief Ooeyama shouted the moment he leaped into the spot.

“The masked detective Blue Dragon King was indeed Shisenkai,” he said while pointing at the fallen Shisenkai Senzai’s attire. “What do you think, Prosecutor? I did mention that the masked detective was suspicious—and that wasn’t in vain, right?” “No—it may still prove futile,” said Prosecutor Karikane. “While I acknowledge this as Shisenkai’s corpse, it remains premature to identify it as the Blue Dragon King’s... When I spoke of a stage crafted for you—this is precisely what I meant. The scene has been arranged to mislead us into believing that removing Blue Dragon King’s mask would expose Shisenkai...”

“Then, Prosecutor, even after seeing this, you still don’t believe Shisenkai disguised himself as the Blue Dragon King?” “Of course I believe that.” “However, whether Shisenkai was the true Blue Dragon King remains a separate matter.” The prosecutor’s expression showed he refused to accept Shisenkai as the Blue Dragon King. “Ooeyama, let’s table that issue for now. This Shisenkai appears to have been killed by a vampire—what’s your take?” “Yes, it’s unquestionably a vampire.” “These deep lacerations at the neck and the unusually faint bruising leave no doubt—this is the work of a terrifying vampire.”

“So, you’re withdrawing your previous assertion that Shisenkai is the vampire, then?” The chief of investigations silently stared at the prosecutor’s face, but after a while, he brought his face closer. “As you say, if Shisenkai were a vampire, he wouldn’t be killed in such a manner.” “I believe the vampire is someone else.” “So you’ve withdrawn it, huh? —Then where is the real vampire hiding?” “Of course, Mr. Ooeyama, you wouldn’t claim that the vampire is the masked detective Seiryuou.”

“Of course.—To tell the truth, I first thought the vampire had to be Shisenkai, then suspected it might be Seiryuou, but I’ve realized both were wrong.” “The only other one we’re eyeing outside of that… is Ichiro Nishi, who calls himself the older brother of the first victim, Shirou…” Having said that much, the chief suddenly fell silent and glanced around. It was a truly uncanny scene, like a cave on a deserted island from an adventure novel. “With this Pachino Grave and such springing up, we’ve lost all bearings.” “What in the world is going on here?”

Thereupon, Prosecutor Karikane recounted the already chronicled legendary tale about the Pachino Grave: “In short, Pachino received an emperor’s command, embarked on an expedition to Japan bearing vast treasures, but met an untimely demise midway through his ambitions.” Chief Ooeyama had nearly doubted his own ears at the outlandish tale of the Pachino Grave for a moment, but seeing the skeletons and gold coins littering his feet, he swallowed this as undeniable reality.

“Is the vast fortune from that story just these mere dregs of gold coins and gemstones left behind?”

Chief Ooeyama said suspiciously.

“Yes, ever since I arrived, it’s been ransacked like this. Of course, someone must have already moved the treasure elsewhere. That’d be either the vampire or Shisenkai’s master—one of the two.” “No, I still have a prime suspect!” shouted Ooeyama. “Who are you referring to?” “It’s Otto Pontos, the owner of this cabaret. He must have done it.” “But isn’t Pontos likely killed somewhere? Wasn’t there blood spilled in his room before?”

“That’s correct.” “But I had been thinking of something else since that time.” “Now it’s become clear—couldn’t Pontos have faked his own murder and absconded somewhere with this immense fortune?” “It’s exactly the sort of trick a scoundrel would pull.” “That theory does exist... after a fashion.”

Prosecutor Karikane said coldly. Chief Ooeyama gazed at the prosecutor’s seemingly disapproving expression but— “So, Prosecutor, how did you come to know about this case?” “And then the story about the Pachino Grave you just mentioned…” When asked this, the prosecutor grinned and replied, “That’s because early this morning, the Blue Dragon King—whom you believe dead—came to my residence and told me all the details.” “What did you say… That Blue Dragon King…”

Ooeyama wore an expression that could not believe the prosecutor’s words. The Blue Dragon King—that is, Shisenkai—is lying dead right there, isn’t he?

“That’s right.” “He reportedly sneaked in here last night at midnight.” “Then he heard that dreaded whistle.” “The moment he thought ‘This is bad,’ a terrible scream rang out.” “When he went closer, it turned out that Shisenkai lay dead wearing his own clothes.” “Ah, Blue Dragon King!” “So this was a fake—and the real one… he was still alive after all?”

Chief Ooeyama said that and let out a big sigh.

At the Golf Course

Chief Ooeyama left matters to his subordinates and temporarily returned to headquarters, but upon hearing the masked detective was still alive and well, he couldn't remain still. What a fearsome adversary he was. That man had breached his subordinates' security lines one after another, infiltrated, then briskly investigated the secrets of the Pachino Grave—it was truly masterful. In a sense, it wasn't unreasonable that Prosecutor Karikane trusted his claims.

“You formidable masked detective...”

Chief Ooeyama had now steeled himself with desperate resolve. If things continued this way, he’d be left perpetually eating the dust of that man’s wake from here on out. “Right—time to act!” The chief involuntarily slammed his desk. “First priority: pin down Pontos’s whereabouts. That bastard’s either the vampire himself or knows who is. As for the masked detective, I’ll rip off that disguise eventually—but no harm waiting till after I’ve wrung every last drop about Pontos and the Pachino Grave from him.”

The chief staked his position on tracking down Pontos’s whereabouts. He immediately formed a special investigation team, entrusted them with a secret strategy, and dispatched them. Then he mustered his courage and single-handedly visited Seiryuou’s detective agency— “Seiryuou isn’t here, Chief,” Yu answered bluntly when he came out, not even feigning sympathy. “Did he say where he was going?” “Toward Tamagawa. He said he went to investigate the child born between the skeleton Pachino and a Japanese woman named Osumi.”

“What?!” The chief felt as if his head had been struck by a brick out of nowhere. Just how far ahead had the Blue Dragon King gotten in his investigation? Though he’d finally worked up his courage, he realized there was no way he could keep up like this. But maybe there was still time. “That child—wouldn’t that be Pontos?” “Pontos was a genuine Greek,” “He came searching for the Pachino Grave and opened that cabaret right above it without even knowing.”

“If not Pontos, then who? Or is it Shisenkai, huh?” “Or is it Shisenkai, huh?”

“Shisenkai is Japanese, you know.” “What Seiryuou is searching for is a mixed-race child, you know.” Upon extracting the information that Seiryuou had gone to Tamagawa to search for the mixed-race child, Chief Ooeyama felt as if he’d struck gold. With this, there could be no room for doubt left.

Chief Ooeyama sped his automobile toward Tamagawa. However, the Tamagawa area, while sparsely populated, was such a vast expanse of land that he couldn’t determine where to begin his investigation. There, he wondered if there might be any places where mixed-race children were likely to appear, so he scanned rows upon rows of local attraction guides posted in front of the station under the clear autumn sky—and what caught his eye were the words “Tamagawa Golf Course.”

A mixed-race child at a golf course—he thought it seemed somewhat fitting. He had been invited by Prosecutor Karikane and had cultivated some skill in golf. On this clear autumn day, golf was a nostalgic sport, but by some twist of fate, today he lamented having to go out of his way to visit the golf course for such troublesome business—far from nostalgic. Driving to Tamagawa Golf Course had been all well and good, but no sooner had he stepped through the club’s entrance than—

“Well, well, Chief Ooeyama. What brings this unexpected wind your way?” There was someone who tapped him on the back. When he startled and turned around, there stood Prosecutor Karikane—unexpectedly wearing golf pants and grinning slyly.

But that wasn’t all. Behind the prosecutor stood a row of familiar faces that startled him. There was Professor Rouyama, Ichiro Nishi, Julia Akaboshi, and Chidori Yabashiri—it might as well have been a convention of everyone connected to the vampire case. Only two crucial figures were missing—the Masked Detective Seiryuou (Blue Dragon King) and Pontos the cabaret owner—though even they seemed liable to materialize from thin air at any moment. “Perfect timing. Why don’t we tour the holes together?” said the prosecutor, seizing his arm.

“Please do join us—” Julia and the others also urged. In the end, Chief Ooeyama joined their group. The fact that he had worn a suit meant he avoided embarrassment—a small mercy.

The first round was divided into two groups. When they played rock-paper-scissors, the first group was decided as Prosecutor Karikane, Professor Rouyama, and Chidori Yabashiri, while the second group became Chief Ooeyama, Ichiro Nishi, and Julia Akaboshi. First, the first group placed their balls on the tee and took turns swinging their clubs to drive them out. Then about five minutes later, the second group stepped onto the tee. "I never even dreamed I'd be partnering with you, Chief."

Julia laughed. “Chief—let’s agree not to mention that during the game, young lady.” “Oh my—Hohohoho.” Chief Ooeyama became completely at ease. Julia took the first swing; next came Chief Ooeyama. After Ichiro Nishi took the last swing, the three of them, accompanied by caddies, began walking across the blue grassy field in a line toward where the balls had fallen. “I didn’t expect to meet you all here.” With that, the chief turned toward Ichiro and broke into a smile.

“It was Mr. Karikane’s invitation.” “It was very fortunate timing, as Miss Julia had been feeling rather down at the time,” Ichiro replied. “Hmm—is the young lady unwell?”

“Oh, that’s not true!” “—I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.” she retorted, but Julia’s first ball showed the poorest performance.

When Julia hit the ball at the second tee, her shot veered sideways, leaving the two men temporarily behind. “Hey, Mr. Nishi,” the chief whispered earnestly to his companion, not in jest. “Aren’t there any mixed-race children around here, huh?” “The closest mixed-race child here is that one,” Ichiro said, pointing at Julia. “What—Julia?” he said, startled. “Now that you mention it, Julia does have something of a mixed-race air about her… But what I’m asking is whether you know of any mixed-race person around seventy years old living near Tamagawa.”

“There’s no such person here.” “Are you saying there aren’t any? It’s amusing how plainly you speak—for someone who knows nothing…” The self-assured Chief wore an unmistakably pleased expression.

However, as would later become clear, these conversations were by no means mere jokes. If Chief Ooeyama had understood the grave significance they held at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to maintain such a jovial Ebisu-like expression. —Julia put her ball onto the green and raised her hand toward the two men.

On the third course, the three of them joined together again and continued hitting the balls.

“You two seem quite close, but you still haven’t come to ask me to arrange your marriage, huh?” the Chief said, his mood growing even brighter. “Please don’t say that—it could damage Miss Julia’s reputation,” Ichiro refuted. As he did so, Julia— “Oh my, I do want to ask you, Chief.” “But Mr. Ichiro here dislikes me, you know.” “In the end, I’ll be all alone, falling into hell…”

Julia said hysterically, pressing a handkerchief to her nose. Her swings grew increasingly erratic. In this manner, after completing the course, the results showed Ooeyama far outperforming the others; Professor Rouyama and Chidori Yabashiri trailed behind with moderate scores, Prosecutor Karikane and Ichiro Nishi fared worse still, and Julia’s performance was disastrously poor.

“Oh, what a dreadful scorecard.” “Absolutely dreadful.”

Prosecutor Karikane shook his head and looked at Ichiro’s face. “Honestly, even she herself seems taken aback at how dreadfully she could have played.” Chief Ooeyama, jumping to the conclusion that he himself was the topic of discussion, felt extremely awkward.

“If there were time, I’d like to play more rounds, but…” The Prosecutor said this, and Chief Ooeyama—who had performed spectacularly—was in full agreement. However, due to Julia and the others’ performance schedule, they decided to stop as time was running short. Instead, the Prosecutor and the Chief went to the practice range to vigorously hit balls. During that interval, Julia and Chidori went to the fountain bath at the back of the clubhouse.

Professor Rouyama and Ichiro sat down in the rattan chairs in the lounge overlooking the verdant green and ordered black tea. Thus, the six companions split into three directions. Chief Ooeyama swung his club at the deserted practice range while speaking to Karikane. “Prosecutor.” “Where does the true intent of today’s gathering lie?” he asked, posing the question he’d wanted to raise since earlier. “Hmm—” Karikane stopped his club mid-swing. “I don’t quite understand it myself, but this is the Blue Dragon King’s request.”

“Wh-what? The Blue Dragon King’s request?” The Chief turned pale instantly. “He wanted to know the outcome of the game.” “For now, I wonder how he’ll explain your success here.” “Ha! Ha! Ha!” “I’ve heard a story where a famous foreign detective gathered suspects in a room and had them play a card game to determine the true culprit based on how the matches unfolded. Could it be that the Blue Dragon King is doing something similar?” In any case, the Chief became gloomy, and suddenly, the balls stopped flying.

“Prosecutor. I hear that while the Blue Dragon King has you all playing golf, he himself is searching for Pachino’s descendants here in Tamagawa. Are you aware of this?” “That might be the case, huh.”

“Then you know where the Blue Dragon King is, don’t you? I must meet him urgently. Please tell me.” “You want me to tell you? Why don’t you go meet him yourself?”

The prosecutor gave a strange reply. Chief Ooeyama, thinking he had offended the prosecutor, fell silent.

Just then. From the direction of the clubhouse, there was suddenly the sound of people raising a commotion. When the Chief turned around, the clubhouse attendant shouted loudly.

“Everyone, please come quickly—! “The lady’s being attacked—!” The lady?—The Prosecutor and the Chief threw down their clubs and rushed to the clubhouse.

The Assaulted Nude Woman

The place where this sudden incident occurred was within the clubhouse’s fountain bath area. About thirty minutes prior to that, two women’s bathrooms had been reserved. Of course, this was for Julia Akaboshi and Chidori Yabashiri to wash their sweat-covered bodies in the fountain. At that time, no one besides these two had reserved this spacious bath area. Julia rented Room No. 4, while Chidori took the adjacent Room No. 5. The bathroom was structured like two public telephone booths placed side by side. In the partitioned area near the entrance, they removed their clothes; upon proceeding further inward, there was a washing area lined with white tiles. When they turned the faucet, warm water poured down from the ceiling with a whoosh, cascading like a waterfall. For the women’s convenience, there were transparent cellophane bags; by pulling these over their heads, they could keep their hair from getting wet.

The two women took off their kimonos, making clattering sounds as they did so. “Big Sister,” Chidori called from the adjacent room.

“Whaaat, Chii-chan?” “I feel kind of scared.” “It’s just… it’s too quiet in here.” “You’re such a strange one.” “Isn’t the quiet nice?” With that, Julia stepped further in and let the white fountain’s spray cascade over her snow-white naked body with a whoosh.

“Um... Big Sister,” Chidori rapped lightly on the partition between them. “When Big Sister stays silent like this... it somehow feels so lonely and frightening.” “Am I not allowed to come to Big Sister’s side?” “Oh, don’t be silly. “Hurry up and wash now—something nice will happen.” “I’ll sing right here for you.” “You’re such a handful.” With that declaration, Julia whistled a beautiful melody for Chidori. The song was none other than her signature piece—“Red Strawberry Fruit.”

Chidori, perhaps emboldened by this, stopped her fussing, turned the faucet with a whoosh, and began washing her slender, outstretched limbs. It was unclear how many minutes had passed when, from within this fountain bath area, a terrifying scream of a young woman suddenly rang out. It seemed to come from one person, and yet also from two. And then, with a clang like shattering glass—a terrifying sound—everyone in the clubhouse now clearly realized something was amiss.

It was usually a women’s bathhouse strictly off-limits to men, but now they came pouring through the entrance without distinction. “What happened?!” The first to enter was Osugi, the club manager. However, from inside came no response—not so much as a grunt or murmur. He swiftly opened Room No. 4 in front of him. There lay Julia’s clothes, carelessly discarded. He knocked and pushed open the inner partition, but for some reason, Julia was not there. The fountain was gushing out forcefully with a whoosh.

He immediately rushed out and barged into the next Room No. 5. There, Chidori’s flashy clothes lay scattered across the floor like strewn flower petals. There must have been a struggle. The manager, his heart pounding, swiftly threw open the inner partition.

“Agh!” As soon as he cried out, he hurriedly closed the partition. He had seen something too horrible to behold. There lay Julia, not a single thread upon her, collapsed on the tiles in an indecent pose like a marble-carved reclining statue. “Hey, move back, move back!” A loud voice sounded from behind. Prosecutor Karikane and Chief Ooeyama had entered. Stopping the fountain and lifting Julia up, she finally regained consciousness.

“What happened? And Miss Chidori…” “Ah, Chii-chan…” Julia raised her pale arm to her head as if pondering something— “—Someone took…” She pointed toward the entrance before her head slumped forward heavily. Julia lost consciousness once again. “What? You’re saying Miss Chidori was kidnapped?” The chief entrusted Julia to the prosecutor and rushed out of the bath area. He saw the front window slid open upward with its glass shattered. That must have been the terrible noise from earlier. The mysterious figure must have taken Chidori and fled through here—no doubt about it.

He nimbly leaped over the window and went outside. He looked around, but beyond the club’s fence lay nothing but an endless expanse of grassland—nowhere could the mysterious figure be seen. In the far distance, a billowing cloud of dust could be seen moving away.

“Ah, that’s it! They fled by automobile!” When he went around to the entrance, he suddenly encountered the driver he had brought with him. “Chief, sir! The automobile has been stolen!”

“Chief, sir! The automobile has been stolen!” the driver said, turning pale.

Behind them, there remained not a single automobile. Thus, even as they watched the mysterious figure fleeing into the distance with Chidori Yabashiri—still naked—in tow, they possessed no means of pursuit. "That's it—I'll make a call."

Rushing into the office, the chief—while fuming at the sluggish rural telephone line—nevertheless finally managed to contact the police station. He arranged for automobiles to be impounded and urgently requested a car be dispatched to the golf course. And he walked toward where the prosecutor was waiting. Julia lay on a makeshift bed in the office. At her bedside, Professor Rouyama, M.D.—though this differed from his usual forensic medicine duties—was tending to her with meticulous care. Prosecutor Karikane stood with arms folded, deep in contemplation, but upon seeing the chief enter,

“Has Miss Yabashiri been found?” he asked. The chief reported every detail and expressed regret over losing track of them. “Did Ms. Julia say anything?” In response to the chief’s question, the prosecutor summarized her account: While she had been bathing under the fountain, Chidori in the adjacent room let out an unnatural scream. Startled, Julia rushed into the neighboring room—only to find a mysterious man who had entered from somewhere unknown attacking Chidori. When she tried to grab him from behind, he immediately threw her down, causing her to lose consciousness. She claimed that when she came to her senses, she found herself lying there.

“Does she have any recollection of the assailant’s face or clothing?” “She says it all happened so suddenly that she couldn’t make out anything. Since she grabbed him from behind, she couldn’t see his face.” At that moment, Julia’s eyes snapped open—she was fine now and wanted to return in time for her performance at Ryugu Theater. She asked them to call Ichiro Nishi. “Ah, Ichiro Nishi—where has he gone?”

“Ichiro-kun isn’t here, huh…”

Just as they were growing suspicious, the door opened, and he slipped in. “Hey, where were you in all this commotion?” The chief glared. “I just stepped outside and was looking at the fields. City people wouldn’t get to see places where vegetables grow unless it’s a time like this,” he said, but it somehow sounded like a contrived excuse. When Julia heard Nishi’s voice, she became even more eager to leave. As a result, it was decided that the prosecutor would accompany Nishi back, while Chief Ooeyama and Professor Rouyama remained. Just as a police-dispatched car had arrived, the three were able to depart for Tokyo immediately.

“That Nishi fellow is quite the shady character,” said Professor Rouyama, shaking his head vigorously from side to side. “Surely Ichiro Nishi didn’t attack Chidori… did he?” the chief muttered to himself. “It’s hard to say…”

Just as they were saying this, Chief Ooeyama’s missing automobile returned, blaring its horn loudly. The chief, startled, ran out to the entrance, but from inside, unexpectedly, the driver he had brought along appeared with a puzzled face. “The automobile was there.” “I went to check because I saw something that looked like an automobile roof in a field about two hundred meters ahead.” “Then, to my astonishment, I found it had been abandoned there.”

“Hmm.” Chief Ooeyama groaned.

Just whose doing was this? Was it Ichiro Nishi’s doing, or had that Pontos appeared, or perhaps the work of the masked detective who was supposed to be prowling the area? Meanwhile, whether Chidori Yabashiri had soared to the heavens or burrowed into the earth, no word of her whereabouts reached them.

But Chidori Yabashiri was alive and well. She lay on a bed in an isolation ward of a certain hospital overlooking the Tama River below, receiving attentive care from the hospital director.

“You’ll be fine now. If you rest quietly, you’ll recover in two or three days. There are no wounds anywhere on your body. Though the shock was severe enough to weaken your heart somewhat. Best not to get too excited.”

“I... would like to meet someone.” “Well, that’s only natural.” “I’m sure someone will come to see you before long.”

As such conversation repeated itself, the night grew late.

At that moment, a man arrived at the hospital entrance. After obtaining the hospital director’s permission, he was taken upstairs and led to Chidori Yabashiri’s hospital room.

“Well, Mr. Nishi… You actually came.”

Nishi simply smiled warmly. “I was feeling so sad because no one came to see me.” “I was asked by that Seiryuou to come here.” “No one else will likely come for a while.” “Until permission is given by the director, you must not take a single step down from the bed.” “Yes, if it’s what you instruct, I shall obey anything.” “...Mr. Nishi.” “What is it, Ms. Chidori?” “I am so deeply grateful to you, you know.” “You do understand…”

“Gratitude?—I haven’t done anything at all.” “Ah—you mean being saved?” “For that, you should thank Seiryuou.” “No—dwelling on such things now will harm your health.” “You must try to forget everything for a while.” “Even if someone hears you, you mustn’t speak of anything.” “Ms. Chidori—for now, you must become a living corpse. Do you understand?” “A living corpse—if it’s your instruction, I’ve already become one.”

With that, she smiled sweetly—but what exactly was the kidnapped Chidori grateful for?

The Masked Detective's Peril

A day had passed since Chidori Yabashiri’s kidnapping incident, with no leads emerging.

Prosecutor Karigane summoned Chief Ooeyama to a room at the prosecutor’s office regarding the matter. “I find myself increasingly grateful for your negligence.” “We’ve now become record-breaking celebrities in the society pages of the newspapers.” “What progress on the Chidori disappearance?” “If it’s within a ten-minute radius of Tamagawa Golf Course, even house-to-house searches should narrow things down.” “Why can’t you grasp this? I’d say the one failing comprehension is being deliberately obtuse...”

“No—the strange thing is, I simply can’t figure it out.” “It’s possible the culprit moved Chidori farther away during the night.” “But rest assured.” “We’re operating on the theory that the culprit and vampire are one and the same—we’re pursuing separate investigative avenues.” “When you say ‘separate avenues,’ who exactly is this suspect you’re eyeing?” “Pontos—the missing cabaret owner, you see.” “My men are conducting an exhaustive search.” “I’ll have him found by tomorrow at the latest.”

“Could it be that he’s already dead?” “Even if he’s dead, that’s acceptable.” “The secret Pontos holds is the final key to the vampire incidents connected to that terror-tinged whistle.” “Hoho,” said the prosecutor, widening his eyes. “Then kindly have the truth of this case reported to me before I hang myself.” Shortly after Ooeyama had returned, a call came from the masked detective.

“Mr. Karigane.” “The time has finally come to determine the culprit.” “Hoho.” “Well now—this is quite the flourish!”

“You mustn’t interfere.” “Therefore, I have one request to make...”

“If this is a consultation about letting the culprit escape abroad, I refuse here and now.”

“That is not the case. In truth, I have been requested to meet tonight with a mysterious figure believed to be the vampire.” “Hmm—how opportune. Shall I then lend you a hundred Shinsengumi men?”

“No—they’ve requested the meeting under the condition that I come alone.” “Trample those arbitrary terms!” “That won’t do.—I intend to meet them alone. If I haven’t called you by nine tonight, read the letter in your bottom drawer.”

"What? You're saying there's a letter in there?" Sure enough, someone had placed it there at some point—a white square envelope lay inside. "There it is." "This can be opened right away, can't it?" "You mustn't open it." "There's a mechanism in place—the text won't appear until nine tonight." "Even if you look now, it's blank, you see."

The moment Prosecutor Karigane clicked his tongue in irritation, the receiver on the other end clattered down.

That evening, precisely at twilight, an unprecedented meeting took place in a single room on the ninth floor of a nine-story ruin in Marunouchi—a structure known as the Monster Building. At the center of that dilapidated room stood a table with a bent leg, across which two figures faced each other. The figure farthest from the entrance was unmistakably the Masked Detective Seiryuou, seated in a chair with his body—and the chair itself—tightly bound by thick hemp ropes. Opposite him stood another figure, their head entirely concealed under black cloth. In their right hand gleamed a sharp, thin-bladed knife, poised to strike at any moment. This was the encounter between Seiryuou—the Blue Dragon King—and the vampire that had been reported to Prosecutor Karigane. The black-clad figure could only be the dreaded vampire murderer.

“You’re more witless than I expected—” said the black-cloth figure in a withered, rasping voice. Though rasping and withered, it was unmistakably a woman’s voice. “...”

Seiryuou remained silent and motionless as stone. “With you tied to a chair like that—whether to let you live or kill you—it’s my choice. With this dagger I could plunge it through your heart... or slice off your fingers one by one if you prefer. Or if suffering frightens you—” she raised the syringe— “a quick dose of morphine would do.” Her voice dripped with malice. “To break our pact—how cowardly,” Seiryuou finally spoke.

“You’re a fool.—I eliminate all who discover my true nature.” “You ought to be grateful for my protection till now.” “But this day—regrettably—I shan’t let you leave alive.” She spoke with the affected cadence of a stage witch. Then, dagger raised, she crept steadily toward Seiryuou. “Stay your hand.” “I’ll accept death whenever it comes.” “Only let me honor our pact first.” “For I’ve words you must hear.”

“You have something to say.” “If you do, I’ll hear it as a final gift.” “But you only get five minutes.” “Hurry up and spit it out—” “I’ve been covering for you all this time.” “You must know that.” “It was you who attacked Chidori Yabashiri at Tamagawa recently.” “I went there and let you go, but...” “Thanks to that, you avoided adding another count of bloodsucking to your sins.” “No—not just once.” “Five times now I’ve interfered to stop you from committing that vampiric sin.” “All because I wanted to save you from your cursed bloodlust by any means...”

“What are you saying? “……So all the interference that kept appearing until now—it was all your doing, you claim?”

With that, the fiend clenched his fist and struck Seiryuou repeatedly. The detective clenched his teeth and endured. "Solely because I wanted to make you repent, I even took you and escaped from Pachino Grave."

Ah—so then the vampire was… could it be…? “Silence!” The fiend struck the detective’s chest once more. The detective groaned “Umm” and writhed.

“I’d known your true identity far sooner than this.” “Recall this.” “Do you remember what you frantically sought when murdering young Shirou?” “Had that reached the authorities, you’d have been arrested as a killer then and there.” “I returned it to you through Ichiro Nishi.” “Cease your lies.” “I know nothing of this.—Now only one minute remains.”

“Is it not clear that I’ve left you free solely because I wanted to make you repent?” “Cut the sentimentality.” “How unsightly.”

“Ah—was my strength ultimately insufficient?” “…Then I shall relinquish all and accept death.” “But one final question remains.” “Why did you come to know the taste of bloodsucking?” “What transformed you into such a dreadful vampire?” “If that’s your wish, I’ll grant you this farewell gift.” “—It’s an inheritance from my ancestors.” “You know of Pachino, yes?” “When nine subordinates perished, he drained every last one of blood.” “I read this in his will… Ah, had that document never reached me, I might have escaped becoming a vampire.” “A cursed destiny.”

“So—the vampiric disease inherited by Pachino from his ancestors… and now it’s finally reached even you, his great-grandchild… and I, who—” “Silence!—” The fiend raised her leg and delivered a thudding kick to Seiryuou’s flank. “Umm.” With a groan, he collapsed on the spot in agony. “Ah, do you think I can endure any more of this vileness?” “I’m not some lenient woman who’d let you prattle beyond the promised five minutes.” “You dared interfere with me!” she snarled, raising her fist hatefully. “Now—for the first time in ages—I’ll drink my fill of that tepid red blood gushing from your throat!”

No sooner had she spoken than the fiendish woman placed her hands on the black cloth covering her head and swiftly tore it off. To their astonishment, what appeared beneath was not a gray-haired old woman as one might have expected, but—unexpectedly, beyond all expectation—a young Western-attired woman with beautifully combed blonde hair. Her face—unfortunately turned sideways, making it hard to discern! The enchantress’s hand moved like a poisonous flower, and what glinted in the twilight air must have been the thin-bladed knife she brandished. Just as the sharp blade appeared poised to strike the ill-fated Blue Dragon King’s chest—what crossed her mind in that moment?—the enchantress thrust out her free left hand and grabbed Seiryuou’s mask.

“That’s right. At the moment of your death, I’ll take a look beneath the Blue Dragon King’s mask that no one knows…” Muttering to herself, she swiftly tore off the mask. From beneath it appeared the face of a man far younger than expected. His eyes were weakly closed, but his features were strikingly handsome! “Ah, you… Ichiro Nishi!”

The voice that cried out was the same enchantress’s, but in that critical moment, it was not an affected voice—it was her natural voice, clear as a jewel and youthfully beautiful.

Ah—at last, the detective’s mask was removed. The true identity of the renowned detective Seiryuou, who commanded absolute trust throughout the capital, was none other than the pale-faced young man Ichiro Nishi. And the boy Shirou, slaughtered by the vampire, was none other than his own beloved younger brother—his own flesh and blood! “Ah, I…” The enchantress’s chest quivered violently, like a great wave. She stood utterly bewildered by the unexpected shock. “After all, I’ll stab you to death!”

With a cry, the enchantress raised the sharp knife again—but soon her arm dropped powerlessly. “How could I ever kill you? My fate is at an end!”

Having said this, the enchantress drew near Seiryuou and tore the binding rope to shreds. But Seiryuou did not even notice that his mask had been removed.—The enchantress had already vanished from this ruined room. Thus, Seiryuou’s life—once as precarious as a candle in the wind—was spared mere moments before death.

Grand Climax, Dance of Death “—Mr. Prosecutor! Where has Mr. Karikane gone?”

It was Chief Ooeyama, head of the investigation division, who hurriedly rushed into the night duty room of the prosecutor’s office. “Oh—what’s the matter, Ooeyama?” The prosecutor stopped reading and raised his face from behind the large desk. “Ah, there you were.” “You’ll be pleased.” “We’ve finally located Pontos.” “And—it’s the grand climax.” “Did you capture Pontos alive, then?” “No—just as you said, Pontos was dead.” “As expected, he was inside Cabaret Etoile.” “He had been confined inside a double wall that went unnoticed.”

“Well now, that’s quite a feat you’ve pulled off.” “Pontos has left us a remarkable keepsake.” “It’s a will he scratched across the entire wall with a broken nail.” “He was attacked by a vampire, but it seems he remained alive for a while after being sealed within the wall.” “Oh, so he wasn’t a vampire after all, then.”

“The vampire is out there.—Now, here’s a copy of the will written on the wall.” “The vampire’s name is clearly listed here as well.” As he said this, Ooeyama spread out a rather unclean sheet of paper. The prosecutor spread it out on the desk and calmly read through it.

“Well now—” he exclaimed in admiration. “According to this document here—the vampire is none other than Julia Akaboshi herself! The great-granddaughter of Pachino!” “Good God! Then that prima donna of Ryugu Theater—Julia Akaboshi—was behind those unspeakable atrocities all along!” The prosecutor stared vacantly into space with an anguished expression.

“So the Julia I played golf with yesterday at Tamagawa was…” At that, the chief shouted impatiently. “The cabaret owner Otto Pontos met his end when he witnessed Julia’s murder during that night’s tragedy at the cabaret, you see.” “Julia took advantage of the night to attack Pontos’s bedroom—first striking him with a knife, then playing that record of ‘Red Strawberry Fruit.’” “While made to listen to Julia’s solo singing, Pontos had his blood sucked from the neck by her.” “Then he was thrown into the secret wall, but since that giant’s body still retained considerable blood, he remained alive for a while—or so it’s said.”

The prosecutor nodded silently.

“Then I would like to proceed with the arrests now…” said the chief.

“Very well. “But the time now is…”

“It’s three minutes to nine o’clock.” “I see. Then if you would wait three more minutes—there’s a call I’m expecting.” Chief Ooeyama endured three minutes longer than any he had ever experienced before or since.—Bong, bong—the clock in a distant room began to strike, announcing the arrival of exactly nine o’clock.

“The call never came...” the prosecutor muttered in a low voice. “It has now become the time to open the unfortunate man’s letter.”

Having said that, he took out a white square envelope from the desk drawer and tore open the seal. Then he took out a sheet of letter paper folded into four from within and opened it. There, in pale reddish-brown ink, "Julia Akaboshi!"

The characters "Julia Akaboshi!" stood out.

“Who wrote that?” Chief Ooeyama asked curiously.

“This is the answer that Seiryuou entrusted.” “It matched your answer perfectly.” “I am one who holds respect for both you and Seiryuou!” Having said that, the prosecutor firmly grasped Chief Ooeyama’s hand.

“So what happened to the Blue Dragon King?” As Chief Ooeyama voiced his suspicion, Prosecutor Karikane tersely recounted the full sequence of events and explained how Seiryuou’s call should have come through by nine o’clock. “Then mightn’t the Blue Dragon King have fallen prey to the vampire? This is no moment for delay. Grant us permission to move in at once.” “Yes… Then I shall accompany you.” With those words, Prosecutor Karikane rose from his chair.

The prosecutor solidified his grave resolution and steeled himself. —And to Marunouchi's Ryugu Theater—.

When the line of automobiles turned the corner at Hibiya, Ryugu Theater came into view right before their eyes. True to its name, the grand palace of pleasure—bathed in the dazzling brilliance of a hundred lights and rising like a castle in the very midst of night’s veil—stood in such splendor that one could scarcely imagine where within it might lie the sinister vampire’s lair. Upon the magnificently towering white circular walls hung several crimson banners, upon which were written in vivid, bold characters: *“Prima Ballerina of the Era: Julia Akaboshi Troupe”* and *“Grand Seventeen-Week Run—Red Strawberry Fruit!”* Ah, truly the era’s bewitching princess—Julia!

Under Chief Ooeyama’s command, an orderly security perimeter was set up. Even a demonic fiend as fearsome as this was now like a rat in a trap. “Is Julia Akaboshi actually here?” With that, Prosecutor Karikane asked the Ginza Police Chief stationed at the entrance. “Well… She seems somewhat unwell, but remains onstage.” “There’s not the slightest indication she intends to flee.”

“I see… Hmm…” The prosecutor let out a deep sigh and secretly peered through the peephole to stare intently at the stage. Beyond seats packed to bursting stretched the dazzling set of that familiar spectacle—*Red Strawberry Fruit*. Through gaps in doors drifted: “My beloved crimson strawberry fruit... Where could you be? Now— Oh how I want you...” A singing voice rich as aged wine reverberated through the air. —There stood Julia. At center stage amidst identically-built dancers she moved—her steps sharp and swift within their synchronized formation.

“Shall we have the curtain closed?” “And then charge in from backstage all at once…?” “Yeah…” Prosecutor Karikane responded without shifting his gaze from the peephole.

“Mr. Prosecutor—if we don’t act quickly, I can’t vouch for Seiryuou’s safety.” Even Chief Ooeyama—casting aside his usual rivalry—showed genuine concern for the masked detective’s welfare. “Yes… It won’t be long now.” “Let’s wait until the epilogue.” “As for Seiryuou… Well, that fellow should manage.” With this, Prosecutor Karikane now championed optimism—a stark reversal from his earlier stance.

There was a reason for that. Onstage to Julia Akaboshi’s right, an actor in a tailcoat performing light tap dance steps was unmistakably Ichiro Nishi. In other words—now unmasked—the Blue Dragon King bounded about the stage with apparent cheerfulness as if nothing had occurred. Prosecutor Karikane had known this from the start; precisely why he championed the Blue Dragon King’s cause. Yet the Blue Dragon King danced not half so joyfully as he seemed. Were one to lay bare his heart, they’d find nine agonies barely sustained by a single thread of will. From his vantage onstage, he’d already discerned the security net cast about them. Moreover there stood Julia Akaboshi—staking desperate hopes upon time more ephemeral than a mayfly’s span—striving through this fleeting stagecraft to purify sins beyond redemption. Caught between judicial might like a deluge and a soul fragile as glass-blown down—this was Seiryuou’s torment.

I must find a way to let her give this final performance her all!

he thought. But Julia’s stage had lost its radiance to the point where anyone could see. “Something’s off. Doesn’t Julia look like she’s about to collapse?” “I’ve been thinking the same thing since earlier. What’s wrong? Julia must be exhausted.”

“Julia, what’s wrong?!”

And then, a blunt voice called out from the third-floor seats. Perhaps hearing this, Julia jerked her head up, but the area around her neck had visibly withered in a short time. “Julia, go home and get some sleep!” And then, a shrill voice resounded from the second floor. Julia, whose face had at some point drooped powerlessly downward, jerked it up again. She ground her teeth together with a grating sound. But—the large fan made of pure white ostrich feathers in her right hand trembled violently as it hid her face, contorted with unbearable anguish.

"Winter grove of farewell Give me your relics. Your heart Yes— 'I am a vampire...'" As if compelled by the chorus, Julia's feather fan—which had concealed her face—twitched spasmodically in midair. Then, as though splitting through a geological fault, the music transformed into a vampire's dance—unbridled and exquisitely seductive—making this performance the grandest spectacle of all: simultaneously grotesque and dazzling, alluring yet valiant.

Given Julia’s listlessness tonight, one might have expected her to collapse limply on the stage then and there—but what an unexpected turn! What a miraculous wonder! She danced wildly across the stage with renewed vigor, as though reborn. Whoo! The cheers—tremendous cheers—and a whirlwind of emotion so intense it seemed the glittering chandeliered ceiling might come crashing down erupted from the first-floor seats, second-floor seats, third-floor seats, and fourth-floor seats.

“Julia!” “The world’s greatest Julia!” “Our prima donna, Julia!” “Kill me, Julia!” “A million-dollar actress!”

After that, it was all chaos—a deafening uproar that drowned out both the chorus and the instrumental music. It was truly an unprecedented ovation, an unprecedented excitement.—What had invigorated Julia so? Yu, the boy in the front row, grabbed the arm of Otsuji beside him and shouted. “Oh, this is terrible!” “Look at that!” “Bright red blood is splattering from the white ostrich fan!” “Gah!—This is bad.” “Look! Blood’s dripping all over Julia’s costume like that!”

However, the others, intoxicated by the whirlwind of excitement, not a single one of them noticed such things. With a roaring uproar, it was like a bullring in chaos. Amidst the storm-like crescendo of cheers, our diva Julia Akaboshi collapsed onto the stage, gasping her last breaths. Without a moment’s delay, thanks to the stage director’s quick thinking, the large stage curtain slid smoothly down. That was Julia’s final stage. Ichiro Nishi, the Blue Dragon King, was the first to rush over and pick Julia up.

“Ms. Julia.” “What’s wrong?” “Pull yourself together, Ms. Julia.”

Julia was completely unconscious. “Hurry, call a doctor…”

The Blue Dragon King issued a command to no one in particular, then immediately picked up Julia and hurriedly carried her to her third-floor room. When he opened the door and entered, an unusually large sofa had been placed in the center of the room, with a pure white silk cloth draped fluttering over it. “Ah, so this was Julia’s resolve.” With those words, the Blue Dragon King gently laid Julia down upon the white silk.—It was at this moment that a bite-like wound was discovered on her right upper arm, from which bright blood was spurting. The wound was immediately bound, but it did nothing to aid his deep wound.

A doctor from the neighborhood rushed in with a nurse and immediately began examining her, but afterward, the doctor shook his head sullenly and refused to utter a single word.

“Ms. Julia. Do you recognize me? I’m Ichiro.” With those words, the Blue Dragon King gently stroked Julia’s forehead. Perhaps sensing his voice, Julia faintly opened her eyes. And though she moved her mouth painfully, with great effort, “Please apologize to Ms. Chidori too… And both of you… pray for me…” No sooner had she said this than her chest suddenly heaved violently, and she drew her last breath. “Oh, what a terrible thing I’ve done,” he said. “It is already her time. She has passed.”

The doctor released the wrist he had been holding to check her pulse and bowed respectfully to Julia’s remains. Prosecutor Karikane and Chief Ooeyama, who had been maintaining a respectful distance from Julia’s body since earlier, exchanged glances at this moment before quietly approaching her bedside to pray for the repose of her soul.

“Did you see Ms. Julia’s final stage performance?” Ichiro addressed the two men.

The two men gave a slight nod. “That magnificent dance that adorned her finale—Julia drank my blood and her own to dance with that vigor.” “Until this very day, she likely never imagined she would drink her own blood…” With that, Ichiro somberly choked back his tears. Then, searching through his pocket, he took out a matching mask and softly placed it by Julia’s pillow.—Seeing this, Ooeyama seemed to notice for the first time and glared sharply at Ichiro’s face.

“With Julia’s death, the masked detective has also perished.” “I’ve grown sick of being a detective.”

With those words, Ichiro—no longer the Blue Dragon King—unsparingly cast aside his own exceptional skills. Julia’s remains were swiftly buried under bouquets of white lilies, carnations, and marguerites brought by the dancers who had been close to her, appearing as if from nowhere.

＊　　　＊　　　＊ Ichiro did not forget to convey to Chidori Yabashiri the apology that the dying Julia had requested of him. And, just as Julia had wished for this too, he married Chidori. The couple’s relationship was extremely harmonious. “You”—Ichiro still referred to his beloved wife this way even now—“didn’t know until Ms. Julia died that Seiryuou and Ichiro were the same person.”

“Oh my, how conceited you are! I’ve known Mr. Ichiro was the Blue Dragon King ever since you carried me—stark naked—from the golf course bathhouse to my uncle’s hospital.” “Oh? Is that so?” “Oh? Is that so?—That’s not how it was at all! At that time in the car, I peeked through half-open eyes, you see? Your mask was flawless, but the necktie peeking out from underneath was identical to Mr. Ichiro’s. That’s when I went ‘Aha!’ you know?”

“I see, that was a major failure. …But making a famous detective who’s one step ahead of me my wife must count as a great success.” “Ha ha ha!”