Pathway to Japanese Literature

Autumn entered November, and the weather finally began to break. Today as well, the setting sun did not show itself, stealthily sinking beyond the curtain of gray clouds. Even in the rustling sound of the occasional wind, it seemed as though the faint wail of a blizzard was intermingled somewhere.

Now, even within Hibiya Park—the oasis of Tokyo's Marunouchi—the hues of dusk were steadily deepening. Why is autumn twilight so lonely? At such times, one might even be suddenly seized by terror. According to legend, encounters with supernatural creatures at street corners or along forest paths were said to occur during this twilight hour. At that moment, a solitary suspicious figure appeared on the narrow park path. The suspicion wasn’t about his appearance. He wore a well-tailored suit, donned a stylish fedora, and gripped a slender Western-style cane. No matter how one looked at him, his impeccable bearing somehow suggested someone of noble birth. However, contrary to his refined demeanor, the young man was utterly unsettled. Every few steps he took would find him glancing around nervously; every few more would see him pausing to listen intently; then after proceeding slightly further, he would probe at bamboo roots with his cane.

“I just can’t figure it out.”

The young man came to a stop at the fork in the path and blurted out his words as if expelling them. Then he removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a white handkerchief. The young man's pale face—so finely sculpted it could be mistaken for a woman's—came into view, but the undeniable deep concern etched between his brows betrayed his anxiety. He had apparently been desperately searching for something as he walked.

"Why does my chest feel so unsettled?"

Perhaps to regain his composure, the young man took out a single hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket and put it between his lips. The match hissed to life, casting a yellow glow around the young man’s chin. The hues of dusk had steadily deepened. The place where the young man now stood was a deep thicket along the path leading from the pond with the famous crane fountain to behind the Western-style flower bed. On both sides of the path stretched bamboo thickets taller than a person’s height. Here and there were small hills densely covered with fatsia and satsuki azaleas—an ideal spot for hide-and-seek, yet it somehow evoked the sensation of descending into a valley. The young man was struck by an indescribable terror and shuddered violently. When he came to his senses, the lit end of the hand-rolled cigarette he’d been holding between his lips had gone out without him noticing.

At that moment, from somewhere unseen came an eerie whistle—Hee-oo, hee-oo. A whistle heard in a deserted place—it should have evoked nostalgia, yet somehow served only to unsettle the young man’s heart. As he listened half-consciously—what was this—it was a melody he recognized. That was the song *Red Strawberry Fruit*—a tune even elementary school students knew by now. Not far from this Hibiya Park in Marunouchi, the Ryūgū Theater had been continuously running the revue *Red Strawberry Fruit* for three months straight. It was the theme song of the revue sung by the troupe’s prima donna, Akaboshi Julia.

Who could that be? The young man pricked up his ears and peered in the direction of the whistle. He realized it seemed to be coming from beyond the thicket. ……My beloved Crimson strawberry fruit

Where could it be? Now— I want it now—”

The young man forgot his worries and listened entranced to the beautiful melody of the whistle. It was a melody as enchanting as the Lorelei’s song—and before he knew it, he too was humming the lyrics of *Red Strawberry Fruit* in time with the whistle. ……But soon, he came upon the lyrics within that song—lyrics filled with terrifying implications.

“…the winter grove of farewell” “I’ll take your keepsake”

*Your heart—* *Yes—*

"I am a vampire…" *Red Strawberry Fruit*—the song declares—is in fact about a human heart. Ah, I am a vampire!

The young gentleman jolted back to his senses. Had he heard Akaboshi Julia sing this song in the bustling auditorium of Ryūgū Theater, these lyrics would have resonated as sumptuously as a rose in bloom—but this was no theater. It was a shadowy thicket where bamboo leaves rustled in the twilight’s faint glow. The young man felt an icy chill pierce his spine.

And then—

It all happened in an instant.

K-Kyaaa! Suddenly, an ear-splitting scream—like tearing silk—pierced the air! “Gyaah—”

Upon hearing this, the young gentleman stood stock-still on the spot. The direction from which the scream had come was the same as where the whistle had been heard. Something terrible seemed to have happened. The young gentleman’s face turned deathly pale.

He suddenly leaped over the fence and plunged into the bamboo thicket. He rustled through the vegetation for a while before turning back. Returning to the path, he began running with heavy thudding steps. The bamboo thicket had apparently been a dead end. The whistle still faintly whistled.

After taking a considerable detour, he finally managed to reach the place where the whistle had been heard. It had been about four or five minutes since he heard the scream.

“……?”

He had indeed reached what he thought was the spot, but there were only Satsuki azaleas with thickly grown leaves flourishing on both sides, the path stretching ahead pale and purposeless, with no trace of any human figure to be found. He felt as though he might have been dreaming.

Yet he had indeed heard the scream reverberating in the depths of his own ears. And as for that scream—it was something he, in his current state, should never have heard. For this young gentleman had been searching for his own younger brother all this time.

Why had this gentleman been compelled to search for his younger brother? That would become clear later—for now, the author must proceed more urgently in narrating this scene.

Perhaps having regained some composure, he now returned to a resolute attitude and began earnestly searching the area. Searching this thicket and that thicket, he finally found the lamentable object he sought in the shade of the most densely grown satsuki azalea. It was a single foot wearing a shoe that jutted out toward the path.

“Oh—”

The young gentleman stood rigidly on the spot, as if turned to stone.

Dual Fatal Wounds

After a moment, the young gentleman regained his composure and quietly stepped into the grassy area. And he approached the corpse and peered into its pale dead face. “Oh… Shiro…” And then, in a voice wrenched from the depths of his being, he called out his beloved younger brother’s name—the name he had borne in life.

Oh, what a gruesome sight! In the shade of satsuki azalea leaves, a boy in a student uniform lay sprawled on his back, drenched in crimson blood from his throat down to his chest. The young man knelt on the grassy ground, checked the boy’s pulse, and opened his eyelids to examine his pupils—but he was already completely lifeless. And he realized the body was rapidly cooling. The older brother wept sorrowfully, tears streaming down. “You’re dead… Shiro… who killed you?”

The corpse, having encountered its own flesh-and-blood brother Nishi Ichiro, seemed to yearn to denounce the resentful murderer who had slaughtered him—but it could no longer utter a single word in reply. After wiping away his tears, Ichiro peered into the blood-soaked corpse. At that moment, he discovered a deep groove formed just below its chin. Upon closer inspection, something resembling a thin steel wire was visible within the groove.

“Oh, this is strange. “Was he strangled…?” Ichiro’s eyes widened. “Even so, what about all this fresh blood staining his chest?” It was strange that fresh blood would gush out from strangulation. This had to be a separate wound. Ichiro brought his face close to the corpse of his beloved younger brother Shiro. Then, with great care, he placed his hands on the corpse’s head and gently bent its neck.

“Ah, this is…” The corpse’s throat area was gruesomely smeared with crimson gore when suddenly—on the left side of its neck—a wound about an inch long gaped open. What could have caused such an injury—the flesh was horribly mangled. From this fresh laceration came a thick surge of blood that gushed forth as if awaiting its moment. Ichiro recoiled from the corpse in shock. The blood streamed down the neck with slick rapidity—someone had undoubtedly severed the carotid artery.

"What a gruesome way to kill someone. To strangle him and then slit his carotid artery..."

But this was an exceedingly thorough way to kill someone. Could Shiro have incurred someone’s hatred to such an extent? No, that couldn’t be. No one should have subjected him—so beloved by all—to such cruelty.—Ichiro peered into the wound once more with an expression of unbearable suspicion. As a result, he discovered something horrifying on the corpse’s neck. Horrifying human teeth marks!

They were deep teeth marks left on the skin near the wound. One, two, three—they were present in three places. The other tooth mark was not visible; instead, the skin surface where a tooth mark should have been was gouged open as if carved out. Probably the upper incisor had sunk in here, tearing through Shiro’s skin and flesh and even biting through his carotid artery. Ah—whose doing could this be? Whether they lacked proper weapons to harm a human I cannot say—but to kill by biting with teeth—what manner of act was this? It was a killing method befitting a beast. Was it even possible that such a terrifying beast-like creature could appear in the heart of a metropolis? Ichiro doubted his own eyes.

"Hateful bastard! Inhuman fiend!—Who—what monster from where—could have done such a brutal killing?"

At that moment, Ichiro remembered the whistle he had half-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 it—who was whistling that tune?”

“The song ‘Red Strawberry Fruit’—perhaps his murdered brother had been the one whistling it,” he thought. “No—it wasn’t my brother—” That eerie whistle had been audible even before what seemed like his brother’s piercing scream—and hadn’t he heard it again later too, when desperately searching through the thicket’s narrow paths? A dead man couldn’t whistle. Then who had been whistling?

“Ah—the one who whistled must be the beast-person who killed my younger brother!”

That’s right—that song “Red Strawberry Fruit” was actually a “vampire” song. In the fifth verse of the lyrics, there was a line that went something like “I’ll take your heart, I’m a vampire,” wasn’t there? With the same rapt attention as listening to Akaboshi Julia’s sultry voice from the Ryūgū Theater stage, he couldn’t dismiss that scream-laced whistle. The bastard who had whistled that vampire song must be the murderer. He wondered if perhaps, lured by that eerie melody, a real vampire with bat-like wings had emerged from the twilight—using its long, suction-cup-like pointed lips to greedily suck the blood from his beloved younger brother. In any case, since four or five minutes had passed after the scream before he rushed there, that terrifying vampire might still be lurking nearby.

“Alright.” “Quit dawdling around—I must capture that vampire.”

Nishi Ichiro solidified his resolve in an instant. And he stood up, stepped on the grassy turf, and dashed off toward the path.

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

He became like a wrathful deity, leaping into this thicket and that shadowy underbrush. Although his elegant Western-style trousers were torn here and there, and blood began to flow from scratches on the hand gripping his walking stick, Ichiro appeared utterly indifferent to it all.

In the eastern corner of Hibiya Park towered a tall, old stone wall—what appeared to be the remains of a former checkpoint. This place was far too gloomy, so even the most curious strollers did not approach. Ichiro crawled into the side of the stone wall recklessly. There, large butterbur leaves grew thickly, but when he recklessly leaped into them, he unexpectedly stepped on something squishy and unsettling.

“Agh—!”

With that, he leaped about three feet into the air.

But he had to let out another cry of surprise following that shout. For from those densely growing butterbur leaves, a man suddenly leaped out. What Ichiro had stepped on was undoubtedly the leg of the man who had been lying in the shadow of those leaves.

“………”

Ichiro, gasping for breath, glared at the man.

Ah, what a horrifying face that man had! He wasn’t particularly tall but had a broad-shouldered, sturdy build. And he was wearing a strange, dark-colored Western suit. On those broad shoulders sat a massive head that appeared sunken into them. His hair was disheveled like tumbleweed, and his face had a dull reddish-black hue. But more than anything, what seized Ichiro’s soul was the terrifyingly large scar that flickered into view on half of the man’s reddish face.

“Wait—”

Ichiro recognized the man and bravely charged forward. The scar-faced man nimbly dodged and fled.

“Hey, wait up—!” It remained unclear whether that mysterious man was indeed the terrifying vampire who had killed his younger brother Shiro. Yet there could be no doubt—here in this deserted twilight hour, lying beneath butterbur leaves behind a stone wall where none would pass—this was undeniably a suspicious figure. To catch him and grapple—that was all that remained.

The mysterious man said nothing and began to dash away with heavy footfalls. His movements were so swift they seemed beyond human capability. The moment he looked up at the towering stone wall, he stretched out his long arm in a flash and vaulted over it like a coiled spring. It looked like an airplane executing aerobatic maneuvers. By the time Ichiro finally clambered up the stone wall and peered down at the pond below, the mysterious man already stood on its opposite shore. Two streaks of ripples trailed across its surface as though left by a passing motorboat. Ichiro couldn’t fathom how the man had traversed the pond.

Ichiro had to make a wide detour around the pond. However, Ichiro’s prediction proved correct—the mysterious man kept fleeing westward. In that direction lay the bamboo grove where his younger brother’s brutally murdered corpse had fallen. Therefore, the mysterious man must intend to slip into that area. Then the mysterious man’s true identity would undoubtedly be revealed.

“Someone, lend me a hand—!”

Ichiro tried to shout at the top of his voice, but his throat was parched dry, producing only a withered, feeble rasp. Before long, the mysterious man turned toward the notorious thicket—as though summoned by his dead brother’s spirit—then vanished with a rustle through parted undergrowth. Seeing this, Ichiro felt vengeful fury surge through him like wildfire.

He suddenly changed course. He intended to take a shortcut and burst out from the thicket behind where his younger brother’s corpse lay through a hidden path. This was because ambushing the mysterious man from an unexpected direction would give him a decisive advantage. Before long, Ichiro reached his target thicket. It consisted of densely packed shrubs so overgrown there was barely room to step. He advanced quietly while parting the lower branches. The corpse’s location had to be nearby now.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Through the gaps in the thicket’s leaves, a round lawn could be seen ahead. It seemed a streetlight was on nearby, casting a yellow glow. In the very center lay, unmistakably, the pale arm of his younger brother—thrown down limply and stretched out.

And then, at that very moment— Strangely enough, the corpse’s arm slid out smoothly across the grass like a living creature. Could his younger brother, who had suffered such a mortal wound, have come back to life? No—absolutely no such thing could possibly be happening. And then―

"That fiend was atop the corpse, committing another disgraceful act." “Alright! What I’ll do—just wait and see!”

His entire body burned with fighting spirit. Now that it had come to this, he needed no one’s salvation. For the sake of his beloved brother, he would throw his entire being into this fight and hurl himself with all his might against his foe’s chest.

“Come at me!”

With a rallying cry of "One! Two! Three!", he leaped out from the thicket onto the grassy patch.

“Come at me—!”

He had tried to leap out—but there, beyond all expectation—

“Aah!”

There was a young woman’s scream— “Oh, you…”

Ichiro stood rigid as a pole, too stunned by the unexpectedness to form words. Utterly, shockingly unexpected—for there on the grassy patch stood none other than Akaboshi Julia herself: the current top star in the metropolis, Ryūgū Theater’s prima donna.

The Torn Diary

"My‚ what a surprise…" "...Oh‚ what on earth happened? Appearing from such a place…" Julia cried out‚ parting her lips to reveal her beautifully aligned teeth.

However, she didn’t appear particularly shocked by this. Was this what they called stage composure? As if performing her signature solo from an elevated position, she bent her supple arm swathed in a black gown, raised it near the plush curve of her hips where the long-trailing hem of her crimson evening gown cascaded beneath, and fixedly gazed at Ichiro’s face. “Why is Ms. Akaboshi Julia here in a place like this, rather than me?”

As he inspected the corpse to see if there was anything unusual, Ichiro asked.

“Oh my, you know who I am.” “My, what should I do?” Julia lightly feigned a startled gesture. “I’m free right now between the matinee and evening performances at the theater, you see.” “That’s my favorite time of day… So I went driving—look here now, you can see it from this spot, can’t you? My automobile over there…”

Sure enough, in the direction Julia pointed, an automobile was parked where the path exited, its seat occupied by a much younger girl who appeared to be her companion. That was Yabashiri Chidori—a dancer considered something of a junior sister to Julia—though. “Are you saying you came here by automobile?” “You figured that out, huh…” He pointed at his younger brother’s corpse.

“Yes—someone was shouting.” “A shout like some major incident had occurred.” “So I stopped my car and came here... only to find this dreadful scene.” “You’re in terrible trouble!” “This student—he’s dead.”

“Yes. It’s less that he’s dead and more that he’s been murdered. This is my real brother.” “Oh my, what did you say? Are you saying you’re this person’s older brother?” “That’s correct. I am Shiro’s older brother, Ichiro.” “Oh my, what should I do?” Julia furrowed her beautiful brows. “What a dreadful misfortune this is, you see.” With that, she closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross over her chest.

“That’s right—did you see a suspicious man around here just now…?” “A suspicious man? Other than you?” “Yes, of course I don’t mean myself. I mean a small, ox-like man with a terrible scar covering half his face.” “No. I just got out of my car and walked straight here.” Julia delivered her beautiful lines as though standing on a revue stage. The Renaissance-style tall lamppost standing beside them grew increasingly brighter.

“What about that man with the scar?”

“No, I was chasing him just now. I thought he might be the culprit,” Ichiro said while scanning the surrounding trees. The twilight shadows had deepened completely—now any pursuit would likely prove futile.

There came a chaotic clatter of footsteps mingling together. Just as the two exchanged startled glances, a boy of about ten came running into view—indistinct in the deepening twilight. Then he spun around sharply and shouted loudly.

“Hey! Hurry up and get over here, Mr. Ootsuji—”

From the opposite direction as well, another set of footsteps came clattering closer. “Wait, wait, Isamu! It’s dangerous if you run off alone, I tell ya!”

Beneath that voice, a fiftyish mountain-ogre-like obese man appeared, wheezing heavily as he came into view. —Apparently, the two were companions.

“Mr. Ootsuji! Besides Akaboshi Julia, another young man’s popped up, I tell ya!”

With that, the boy spoke with precocious cheek. “Hmm, so that’s how it is.”

Judging from this behavior, it seemed the two had already known that Julia came to the corpse.

“Everyone. It’s fine to look at the corpse over there, but don’t touch it with your hands. If the hard-earned murder evidence gets messed up, the police will have trouble finding the culprit, you know,” the boy said with dead seriousness, then called out to the hulking man addressed as Mr. Ootsuji. “How about it, Mr. Ootsuji? Why don’t you line up everything you’ve discovered in this murder case for everyone to see?” “Think you’re so clever, Isamu? Everyone’s laughing at you!”

Ootsuji scratched his head. “My, what interesting things you say—and who might you be, may I ask?” Julia called out to the boy with darting eyes. “You think we’re suspicious, Ms. Julia. We’re not suspicious in the least. We’re private detectives, you know. You’ve heard of him—the masked detective Blue Dragon King who’s famous in the capital now? We’re the right pinky of that Blue Dragon King.”

“My, you’re the pinky?” “That’s not it. The pinky is this Mr. Ootsuji here, and I’m the right arm.” “Is Blue Dragon King coming here?”

“No...” The boy suddenly grew dejected and shook his head. “If Blue Dragon King were here, he’d solve this murder case in an instant. But for some reason, his whereabouts have been unknown for about ten days now. That’s why I’m going to solve this case with Mr. Ootsuji.” “Hey now, Isamu. Don’t go spouting nonsense.” “Right. We should focus on reaching a conclusion quickly rather than—” Isamu turned back toward Mr. Ootsuji. “I don’t know if you realize this, but this student was originally sitting facing away under that tree over there. Then—from behind the thick leaves—two hands slithered out and strangled his neck with a thin wire. And that’s how he ended up dead.”

“I already know that much!” Ootsuji retorted with false bravado. “Hmm, I wonder— Then the culprit circled around to the front and approached this corpse.” “And then bit through the throat to drain the blood, you see.” “Doing this ensures they won’t come back to life at all, you see.”

“How could I not know something like that?” “Hmph, I wonder about that.” “—Before he was killed, the student must have been talking with a beautiful woman alone.” “Among the chocolate wrappers scattered in the grass, there’s one mixed in with lipstick on it.”

“Huh, really? That…” “See, Mr. Ootsuji, you haven’t figured this out. —While the student was talking with the woman, she had some business come up and left here, you see.” “Since she told him to wait because she’d be right back, the student waited patiently.” “And while she was gone, he ended up getting his neck strangled, you see.”

“You’re pretty damn good at playing Blue Dragon King.”

“And there’s something else I know…”

Isamu’s loquaciousness showed no sign of abating. Perhaps having heard enough, Akaboshi Julia swirled her skirt and walked toward the waiting car.

Nishi Ichiro had been silently listening to the conversation between the hulking man and the boy—who claimed to be Blue Dragon King’s subordinates—but he too left the scene to follow Julia. He might still have wanted to track down the fiend’s whereabouts.

Isamu and Ootsuji, seemingly unaware of this, kept chattering excitedly. However, once the man and woman had left, they inadvertently exchanged glances and smiled faintly. "But Isamu, you shouldn't go blabbing about such secrets." "That kind of thing isn't any secret or anything. I've got two whole things that are even more interesting." "What kind of interesting things?"

“One is about Akaboshi Julia’s earring, and the other is about the weird-shaped tan on that other man’s face right now.” “Well, well.” “You’ve spotted something quickly, haven’t you?” “But what use is that, I wonder?”

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

“Oh, the diary!” Ootsuji rushed to the corpse as if struck by a thought. Then, lifting the corpse’s back slightly, he retrieved a small black leather diary hidden beneath it. He flipped through its pages when suddenly he stiffened and let out a shout.

“Ah, this is bad! —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, Inspector Ooeyama of the Metropolitan Police Department found himself compelled to meet with the press corps that had been gathering since the previous night.

In the society section of that morning’s newspapers, every paper had brought the story to the top and devoted three or four columns, “Vampire in the Imperial Capital?

—Hibiya Park’s Bizarre Corpse— Judging by how they reported last evening’s bizarre incident under blaring headlines set in primary-size type—*“Vampire in the Imperial Capital? —Hibiya Park’s Bizarre Corpse—”*—the sharp-witted newspaper reporters seemed to have already discerned that this was a rare, major case of late.

Working at full throttle, Inspector Ooeyama invited the press corps into the reception room under the condition of a five-minute interview. The group that noisily entered immediately surrounded the inspector.

“Five minutes strictly observed! I won’t say another word after this!” With that, Inspector Ooeyama took the initiative. “Then I take it headquarters is treating this case as critically important?”

At once, one of the reporters shot back. “It’s said the culprit is a mentally ill person—is that correct?”

“And another reporter cornered.”

“The culprit hasn’t been determined yet.” The inspector twisted his mouth into a scowl.

“When asked at the Forensic Medicine Department, they say not a single drop of the victim’s blood remained—is that true?”

“Nonsense!” The inspector easily disposed of the reporters’ transparent nonsense.

“The culprit is Nishi Ichiro (26), who claims to be the victim’s older brother, isn’t he?”

“At present, that’s not the case.”

“What is Nishi Ichiro’s address?”

“It’s the same house as the victim’s, I take it?” “You shouldn’t joke about this, Inspector. The victim was living in a boarding house, you know. Why is the Metropolitan Police Department giving Nishi Ichiro special protection?”

“We’re not giving him any special protection.” The inspector flung himself back into his chair. Yet keeping the victim’s older brother’s address strictly confidential must have demanded extraordinary justification. The press corps, catching the inspector’s momentary falter, launched a question like an armor-piercing round straight through his defenses.

“About three years ago, there was a fiend named Shisen Senzai who became a nationwide wanted criminal after brazenly committing a string of robberies and murders.” “It’s said that fiend fled overseas back then and evaded capture, but isn’t there talk now that Scar Crab has recently returned to the mainland?” “Considering the extremely cruel nature of this murder’s method, there are those who say it must be the work started by that Shisen Senzai.” “What about this one?”

“Hmm… Shisen Senzai, eh?” The inspector furrowed his brows and groaned. “The Metropolitan Police Department is well aware that he’s returned to the country. “As for whether he’s connected to this case, I can’t go so far as to state that definitively, but we’ve made arrangements to apprehend him shortly.” Though he had said this, Inspector Ooeyama wore an expression that suggested he had been thoroughly struck in a vulnerable spot. It was as if Shisen Senzai’s scar—that crab-shaped blemish covering half his face—had materialized before his eyes.

“In that case, Inspector. I won’t put this in the paper, but you’ve got a lead on Scar Crab’s whereabouts, haven’t you?” “The five minutes are already up,” the inspector said smoothly as he rose from his chair. “That’s all for today…”

As the inspector left the room, the reporters began loudly exchanging blatant opinions. In the end, by connecting this recent vampire incident with Shisen Senzai’s return to the country, the Metropolitan Police Department had shown unprecedented tension; however, it seemed they were actually struggling due to having insufficient leads on Senzai. And they had agreed to boldly sensationalize this matter in tonight’s evening edition.

When the evening edition's bell clattered noisily through the streets, Inspector Ooeyama seethed with bitter frustration. "There's no helping it," he muttered. "If they splash this across the papers, Scar Crab'll grow wary and burrow underground."

At that moment, a detective entered.

“Mr. Inspector… There’s a letter for you…”

and handed over a cheap envelope made of brown kraft paper. The inspector casually opened the envelope and unfolded the stationery, but upon reading the brief message written there, he showed abnormal agitation—flushing crimson in an instant before immediately turning ashen pale.

The following message was written there.

“To Inspector Ooeyama:

Dear, It’s been a while, hasn’t it? In the time since we last met, your discernment appears to have grown thoroughly clouded. What madness drives you to recognize Scar Crab as the culprit behind Hibiya Park’s blood-drained corpse? Scar Crab doesn’t stoop to such trifling murders as vampiric bloodsucking. If you doubt this truth, present yourself at Cabaret Étoile in Ginza tonight at eleven o'clock. I shall demonstrate something that will leave you utterly convinced. Come without fail! Shisen Senzai

“Shisen Senzai”

The inspector, startled, called back the detective who had brought the letter. When they inquired about who had delivered such a letter, they learned that a boy had appeared at the reception desk and left it there, but even after searching, they could no longer trace the messenger boy’s whereabouts. However, since this could be a lead on Scar Crab, he ordered a strict investigation. Gripping that bizarre challenge letter, he rushed to the Superintendent General’s office.

That very night.

The crown jewel of luxury in Ginza, Cabaret Étoile, was packed with more customers than usual. Since all the seats were occupied, they had no choice but to set up five or six supplementary tables and chairs in the shadows of thick pillars—though these locations were less than ideal—but these too were immediately taken.

The clinking of wine cups, the raucous voices of inebriated gentlemen, and the clamorous jazz music all mingled together until the cacophony made one’s head throb.

Amidst this cacophony occupying a table in one corner were Inspector Ooeyama leading his skilled subordinates, with Prosecutor Karagane specially joining their ranks. All had discarded uniforms and swords, their stylish attire dazzling patrons. Furthermore, the Metropolitan Police Department’s most formidable detectives maintained relentless vigilance—disguised as waiters near that wall over there, drunkards by this pillar here, cleaners leaving no ant unnoticed. What this group awaited was the emergence of Shisen Senzai—author of that bizarre challenge letter. From what shadow would Scar Crab materialize, and what devilry might he attempt?

However, that night’s guests, unlike the prosecutor’s group, were there for something entirely different. It was because they wanted to see Ryūgū Theater’s prima donna, Akaboshi Julia, who was making a special appearance at this cabaret around 10:40 tonight. It was Julia’s dance and solo singing that drew in so many customers.

The night deepened steadily. The number of strollers outdoors thinned out noticeably, while inside the cabaret, the voices of increasingly intoxicated patrons grew steadily louder. The clock struck exactly 10:45. As soon as the manager emerged from the back and signaled to the jazz band’s leader, the mellow blues melody was abruptly shattered by a valiant trumpet blast, transforming into a sprightly march. Recognizing this as the moment they’d been waiting for, thunderous applause erupted from the audience.

The auditorium lights dimmed slightly, and in their place, a powerful spotlight descended from the ceiling, tracing a beautiful cone of light.

“Whoa, it’s Akaboshi Julia!” “A toast to our prima donna, Julia!” “Whoa!” Welcomed by those voices, Akaboshi Julia—clad in an evening dress of jet-black silk adorned with silver embellishments—appeared as though leaping into the bright spotlight.

There, Julia’s signature solo began. The audience fell completely silent, and only Julia’s beautiful singing voice—clear and resonant like tumbling bells—shook the cabaret’s high ceiling. “I don’t like the area where that front pillar is casting a shadow.”

Inspector Ooeyama whispered softly to Prosecutor Karagane seated beside him.

“That’s right. I’ve also been keeping an eye out for any guests hiding half their faces, but I don’t see any. As long as Scar Crab doesn’t somehow hide the scar covering half his face before appearing, the police will spot him.”

“No, in that case, I’ve issued orders and ensured they’re fully alert.” After several of Julia’s solos had concluded, a brief intermission commenced. With the storm of applause at her back, she withdrew, and the auditorium returned to its former brightness as the jazz band began playing a lively interlude. The police force breathed a sigh of relief. “Is the famous detective Blue Dragon King—your esteemed friend—not appearing today?”

Inspector Ooeyama asked Prosecutor Karagane while lighting a cigarette.

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

The masked detective Blue Dragon King was the prosecutor’s close friend. Those who knew the true face beneath the mask were limited to a small number of prosecutors. According to Blue Dragon King, detectives should avoid revealing their true faces both in front of their clients and the criminals as much as possible. Therefore, there had once been a photograph published in a magazine purporting to show his true face, but that was naturally someone else’s portrait.

Once again, the valiant sound of trumpets began, and the auditorium lights dimmed once more. At last, this time, Scar Crab would appear. “It’s five minutes to eleven.”

Inspector Ooeyama released the safety on his pistol under the table.

Unaware of the prosecutor’s group’s tension, a storm of applause erupted once more from the audience seats. In the beautiful cone of light, Julia and three dancing girls—dressed in resplendent costumes that stole all gazes—made their entrance. The castanets clattered to life. The melody of the troupe’s signature piece, *Red Strawberry Fruit*, resounded—

“This is bad. All three actresses are wearing masks.”

Prosecutor Karagane whispered to Inspector Ooeyama seated beside him. “This is precisely how they perform it on stage.” “And I don’t believe even True Opposite Scar Crab would disguise himself as that beautiful actress...” “But look here.” “Having actresses—even if they are actresses—appear in such masks at this critical hour of eleven tonight seems unwise.” “Moreover, those long costumes expose only their chins, necks, and wrists while covering nearly their entire bodies.” “It’s an ill omen.”

“Then shall we order the actresses to remove their masks?”

It was such a moment. Without warning, the lights in the room suddenly went out all at once, plunging everything into complete darkness. A collective cry erupted from the audience. At that moment, from the darkness of the exit came a loud shout.

“Everyone, we are the police! It’s dangerous—get under the tables immediately!” No sooner had the voice ended than tables and chairs clattered noisily—colliding, toppling—their crashes echoing through the screams.

(This is some kind of major incident!)

The guests' drunkenness vanished in an instant.

Then, as if mocking the commotion, the room’s lights blazed on brilliantly.

The room’s appearance had completely transformed. Most of the guests had crawled under the tables, while those too thoroughly drunk to move were slumped limply against their chairs.

At the exit—from where they had come, no one could tell—an armed police force of about thirty stood lined up solidly like an iron wall, pistols at the ready.

“Keep your heads down—it’s dangerous!”

The police officer warned them.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha!”

An unexpected, booming laugh was heard from the shadow of a pillar.

Damn! Both Prosecutor Karagane and Inspector Ooeyama used the table as a makeshift shield and stared intently toward the source of the eerie guffaw.

From the shadow of the thick pillar ahead, something fluttered out to the vacant stage like a bat. It was a gaunt man wearing a strange yellow outfit that looked like it was made of leather. The grotesqueness of that face, which glared fiercely at the police squad blocking the exit, defied all comparison. On his left cheek, a terrifyingly large crab-shaped birthmark was clearly visible. Ah, Scar Crab had finally appeared!

Unexpected Victim The long-awaited audacious mastermind behind the challenge letter had finally revealed himself before everyone. The fiendish thief Scar Crab made no attempt to conceal his grotesque face—unbearable to behold even for a moment—and glared piercingly at the armed police squad.

The one commanding the armed squad was Director Kongou, who stood up straight and barked orders to his subordinates.

“If that monster moves even slightly, shoot him dead!” When Scar Crab heard this, he twisted his thin lips into a sneer. Suddenly, he drew his trusted weapon from behind his back—a fearsome light machine gun. This precision instrument had been specially ordered from a secret weapons factory during his time in Holland. The machine gun’s muzzle peered at the police officers’ chests. “Hurry up and shoot!”

The armed squad leader instantly issued the firing order.

Boom. Boom. Click-click-click-click. It was unclear who had fired first. The indoor lights instantly went out, plunging the room into darkness. Screams of agony, the sound of objects shattering—amidst it all, gunfire raged like a storm. From the front and exit facing each other, crack-crack-crack—crimson flames flashed fiercely. A fierce shooting battle began.

The police squad fought bravely without flinching or yielding as bullets showered around them. Behind the crimson mass of fire resembling a dragon spewing flames ahead, Scar Crab was presumed to be lurking. They kept firing their pistols at that target until their bullets ran out. At times the officers felt as though they had been struck in the chest by wooden logs. This occurred when Scar Crab's bullets struck their bulletproof vests. Had they lacked those vests, they would have long since been riddled with holes like honeycombs from head to toe.

But the light machine gun demonstrated its formidable power. The bullets flying out at terrifying speed were mostly blocked by bulletproof vests, yet gradually began grazing elbows unprotected by bulletproof steel or striking wrists—even the stalwart police squad started to falter slightly. From behind the tables, peering out with only their eyes, the leadership group—including Prosecutor Karagane and Inspector Ooeyama—who were staring intently at this ferocious shooting battle in the pitch darkness had already discerned their side’s deteriorating position.

“Inspector Ooeyama, this is dangerous as it stands. How about ordering the police squad to charge?” “I’d like to order a charge, but it’s impossible. Tables, chairs, and people are scattered about, obstructing the way—we can’t charge.” “But if this continues…” The prosecutor choked out through gritted teeth.

And then, at that moment. Someone grabbed the prosecutor’s arm. “Mr. Karagane! Mr. Karagane—”

“Hey—who’s there?!”

“Please calm down—it’s me. Can’t you tell?”

“What… That voice—”

Prosecutor Karagane gripped the man's arm firmly, pulled him close, and whispered in a low voice.

“It’s Blue Dragon King!”

Blue Dragon King! It was none other than Blue Dragon King—the masked detective long known as Prosecutor Karagane’s close friend. For some reason, the Detective King had been missing for about ten days. A message sent to him had arrived, and it seemed he had come to this cabaret.

Blue Dragon King whispered something in a low voice to Prosecutor Karagane in the darkness. In the end, having seemingly finished their discussion, “Alright, I’m counting on you.”

With those words of encouragement from the prosecutor，Blue Dragon King stealthily slipped back into the shadows. —The prosecutor then pulled Inspector Ooeyama close and whispered something. “Very well.” “I’ll issue the order.”

With those words, Inspector Ooeyama crawled out from behind the table. He advanced toward the fiercely battling police squad, dodging through the hail of bullets.

Before long, some command was issued, and the armed police squad’s gunfire grew even more intense. From the ceiling came a tremendous clattering sound as something came crashing down.

“Keep your eyes on the front!”

The police squad leader was shouting— And then, Scar Crab’s light machine gun—which had been spewing fire like a monster from the front—abruptly shifted its target for some reason. With a rat-a-tat-tat, the bullets were directed toward the ceiling, struck the chandelier, and glass shards rained down in pieces.

Before anyone could even think "Huh?", a scream rang out, and the machine gun that had been growling until then abruptly fell silent. Then came the *thud* of a heavy machine being slammed onto the floor—this was Blue Dragon King, who had stealthily circled behind Scar Crab and knocked down the machine gun. Scar Crab, having been under fierce fire from the police squad head-on, was taken down while preoccupied with repelling their assault. However, though the police squad must indeed have been firing fiercely, they had in fact been shooting only at the ceiling. This had been done both to avoid injuring Blue Dragon King as he charged in and to keep Scar Crab in check. All of it had been the famous detective Blue Dragon King’s strategy.

The eerie roar of the machine gun abruptly ceased. The police squad’s fierce gunfire had also ceased without anyone noticing. The pitch-black room—though it had lasted mere seconds—was abruptly transformed into a graveyard-like silence. “Lights! Lights…!”

Blue Dragon King’s bellowing voice rang out. At that command, they twisted the room’s light switch, but only a click sounded, and the lights didn’t come on. The police officers fumbled for their flashlights, but many had been broken in the recent chaos. Nevertheless, two or three beams of light flickered hurriedly through the pitch-black room, but before they could even draw near Blue Dragon King, they were snuffed out with a sharp crack. All that could be discerned in the darkness was a ghastly struggle accompanied by terrible groans.

The police squad clambered over overturned tables and pushed through fleeing cabaret patrons, advancing toward the source of the groans. But with chaos erupting once more, those groans vanished into the void. “Where are you, Blue Dragon King?!”

“Blue Dragon King—make a sound! Pleaaase!”

Prosecutor Karagane and his group called the detective’s name at the top of their lungs, but no response was heard.

“Hey, everyone! Can’t you keep it down?!”

Inspector Ooeyama bellowed in a voice like a cracked bell.

Whether his voice had reached them all or not, the entire gathering fell completely silent.

“Hey, Blue Dragon King! Where are you?!”

The prosecutor called out again into the darkness.—

But no one responded. Everyone felt their own hearts pounding loudly in the darkness. (What was going on?)

At that moment, a faint whistle began to sound from the darkness in what seemed to be the front direction.

“My favorite... Crimson strawberry fruit... I’ve finally found it... Oh— ...within your chest...”

Oh—

"within your chest…" Ah—it was the currently popular song *Red Strawberry Fruit*. This had been the signature song of Akaboshi Julia, Ryūgū Theater's prima donna.

——

“Hey! Who’s there?——” shouted Inspector Ooeyama. “Whoever’s whistling so carefree at a time like this will face severe punishment later!” “A carefree whistle”—that’s what Inspector Ooeyama had said, but it didn’t sound carefree in the slightest. For the whistle continued to blow nonchalantly, paying no heed to the officers’ calls to stop.

In the graveyard-like darkness and silence…

“Hey! Stop that!” “If you don’t stop—” Just as Inspector Ooeyama, blazing with fury, charged forward into the darkness, he collided in an instant with a large object lying at his feet and twisted his ankle so badly it made him cry out. At that moment, what had been lying at his feet dissolved upward as if melting away and began grappling with a fierce shout, causing Inspector Ooeyama to recoil in terror and jerk backward.

“Blue Dragon King’s here!” came an unexpected voice from the mass of grappling figures.

“What?!” “Hurry and restrain Scar Crab—”

Prosecutor Karagane found hope in that voice.

“Lights! Lights! Bring the lights here quickly!”

From the direction of the exit, two or three handheld lanterns finally came in.

“That way! That way!”

Then, near the thick pillar at the front, there came a violent sound of objects colliding. Then, a beast-like roar was heard.

“We got him！ We got him！” “Lights！ Hurry，hurry！”

At the shout of “There!”, a cluster of handheld lanterns came flying in.

“Scar Crab! Give it up already!” The sounds of scuffling still echoed through the darkness. Then, inexplicably, the room’s lights suddenly flickered on. About half of the lamps that had survived the gunfight blazed to life all at once—the people exchanged glances like sleepers roused from a nightmare. “Scar Crab’s right here!”

It was undoubtedly Blue Dragon King’s voice that had been echoing through the darkness all along. Both the police squad and the cabaret patrons turned in unison toward the source of the voice. Oh—that very figure was none other than the masked famed detective Blue Dragon King. “Have you finally caught him?”

The prosecutor exclaimed joyfully and approached Blue Dragon King.

“Blue Dragon King!”

It was there that the crowd finally laid eyes upon the masked famed detective Blue Dragon King. He was slender and tall, his frame appearing as formidable as a German Shepherd. As usual, he wore a mask covering the lower half of his face from the eyes down, revealing only two gleaming eyes beneath his hunting cap.

“Now examine the base of this pillar.” “What you see here is Scar Crab’s left foot.” “And wedged over here lies his yellow leather coat.” “Scar Crab initially slipped out unnoticed through this mechanized pillar’s hidden mechanism but sealed his fate when he tried leaping back into it—the rotating column trapped him himself.” “The situation’s under control now.”

Indeed, this pillar appeared to rotate, and it had a visible seam. And near the base, a yellow leather coat and an oddly shaped left shoe jutted out abruptly.

Inspector Ooeyama rejoiced so much he nearly leaped into the air.

“Now, quickly grab that leg and pull Scar Crab out!” Inspector Ooeyama ordered.

The multitude of officers swarmed toward the pillar and, grabbing Scar Crab’s leg, pulled with a heave-ho. Another officer grabbed the yellow leather coat and pulled.—But moments later, as if on cue, the officers let out a startled scream and tumbled backward like toppled chess pieces. And then, over their heads, the leather coat—cut off midway—and the left boot spun wildly before plummeting down with a thud.

“What the—it’s just clothes and a boot!” Inspector Ooeyama shouted.

“Hmm...” Even the famed masked detective groaned. They had been utterly outwitted by Scar Crab.

It was at that moment. One of the police officers, pale-faced, came rushing up to Inspector Ooeyama.

“I-It’s terrible, Inspector! A guest has been murdered behind that pillar next to the stage!” “What—was he killed by the machine gun or pistol just now?”

“No, sir. We’ve taken care of the injured person from earlier, but the guest’s corpse I discovered has had its throat horribly torn out. This was definitely done by the vampire. It must be.” “What? Are you saying a corpse killed by a vampire has been discovered?”

“Now that you mention it… there was someone whistling ‘Red Strawberry Fruit’ earlier in the darkness…” The people could only exchange stunned glances. Could this truly be Scar Crab’s doing? Thus, not only had the prosecutor and masked detective been deftly lured here, but through the vampire corpse, they had also been dealt an indelible insult—one that could not be wiped away no matter how hard they tried.

Was Scar Crab’s declaration that he was not a vampire true, or was tonight’s tragedy an ironic confession? Had Akaboshi Julia managed to withdraw safely? Burning with resolve to redeem his honor, what exploits would the masked famed detective Blue Dragon King now commence?

Before long, an ominous sense arose that the sinister "Terror Whistle" would begin echoing from nowhere.

Who on earth was the vampire’s true identity!

Suspicious Blueprint Just as the audacious villain Shisen Senzai attempted to flee into the hidden pillar, the masked detective Blue Dragon King swiftly grabbed him—or so they thought. But when pulled out, what did they find? Only Senzai’s left boot and a torn fragment of his Western-style coat; his body was nowhere to be seen. At this, Prosecutor Karagane and Inspector Ooeyama—who had been overjoyed at Scar Crab’s anticipated capture—along with the rest of the prosecutor’s party, were left dismayed, like fishermen who had let a giant fish slip through their net.

However, Scar Crab could not have fled that far yet. Prosecutor Karagane, the overall commander, without a hint of hesitation, immediately ordered a search of the vicinity around the scene. The police force split into three teams—outside Cabaret Étoile, inside the building, and around the hidden pillar Scar Crab had fled into—and began a desperate large-scale search. “Oh, where has Blue Dragon King gone?”

Prosecutor Karagane, as if noticing this for the first time, glanced left and right.

“Blue Dragon King?”

The executives accompanying the prosecutor likewise glanced left and right. But his figure was nowhere to be seen.

“He was right here until just now, but I don’t see him anywhere,” Inspector Ooeyama said.

“He must have dashed off somewhere again.”

“Now, now, Prosecutor Karagane, sir,”

The inspector called out in a formal tone. "You seem to place great trust in Blue Dragon King, sir, but I find that rather difficult to comprehend."

He spoke in a tone that seemed to implicitly suspect the masked detective.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! That man will be fine.” “Is that so? Well, if you insist—but during that scuffle in the dark earlier, no matter how much I called out, he didn’t respond. And then, only the whistle of *Red Strawberry Fruit* could be heard. Then, after a while, didn’t he suddenly start shouting in Blue Dragon King’s voice—‘Scar Crab is right here, I tell you!’—? What was he doing during all that time? After all, it was pitch dark. There’s no way to know what he did.”

The inspector’s tone practically suggested he was capable of murder.

“That was because Blue Dragon King had been pinned down by Scar Crab, 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… Well, for one thing, I don’t like that mask of Blue Dragon King’s. It would likely inconvenience him if removed, but we can’t help being concerned about it during our investigation. As long as that mask remains on, I cannot trust anything Blue Dragon King does—no, I even find myself thinking that way.”

“I think you’re overimagining things, don’t you?”

Prosecutor Karagane made a troubled face and looked at Inspector Ooeyama. “So I—” Inspector Ooeyama plowed ahead, cutting him off. “In that pillar, there was a torn piece of clothing and a boot wedged into it—but that wasn’t Scar Crab escaping inside. Instead, he had prepared those two items beforehand, wedged them into the pillar to make it look like he’d fled in there, then concealed his recognizable scar with a mask. He might now be claiming to be Blue Dragon King.”

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” “You’re saying that if Blue Dragon King removes his mask, he’d be Scar Crab, eh?” “Oh, that’s rich!” “Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“I can’t rest easy about anything suspicious without seeing concrete evidence. That’s precisely how I’ve kept the Investigation Division Chief’s seat untarnished to this day…” “Then there’s no alternative. If my personal guarantee means nothing to you, go ahead and rip off his mask—I won’t object in the slightest.” “That’s not quite what I meant… But Blue Dragon King won’t show himself tonight. Once he flees, he’ll have already accomplished his purpose.”

True to form as Investigation Division Chief, he had raised a suspicion no one else had considered. But just then. The hidden pillar gaped open without a sound, and who should come leaping out from within but the masked detective himself—making for an awkward situation indeed.

“Hmm—”

Inspector Ooeyama, overwhelmed by surprise, involuntarily groaned. When Blue Dragon King spotted the prosecutors, he strode briskly toward them.

“Mr. Karagane. I’ve finally uncovered Scar Crab’s escape route. He slips beneath this cabaret’s foundation into the basement storage room. From there, he can get outside immediately. It appears your commands weren’t properly executed—with no officers stationed at that storage room, he’s made a clean getaway.” “What? You mean he escaped through this pillar to the storage room and outside?” Prosecutor Karagane nodded and turned to Inspector Ooeyama. “Why didn’t you investigate this escape route beforehand? Have the cabaret owner brought here at once.”

“Ha—”

The inspector wore a shamefaced expression and ordered his subordinates to bring the cabaret owner. Soon, a large-bodied man in an immaculate tuxedo emerged from the back. He had an air of being non-Japanese. That made perfect sense. Because he was a Greek man who went by the name Otto Pontos.

“I am Otto, the proprietor here.—”

Though the age of Westerners was hard to gauge, Otto Pontos—who appeared to be two or three years past thirty—amiably rubbed his hands together and gave a slight bow with his hulking frame of nearly six feet.

“So you’re the owner,” Prosecutor Karagane said with a slightly startled look. “You’ve got quite an outrageous contraption here—this pillar splits in two, has a staircase inside, and leads to a storage room! Just what purpose does this serve?” “I don’t know anything about that,” Otto replied. “This mechanism existed here before I bought the building.”

“What do you mean this mechanism was here before?” “From whom did you buy it, I ask you?”

“I purchased it from a broker.” “I have the broker’s name on record, so I’ll inform you.”

“Hmm, Mr. Ooeyama.” “Investigate that broker and identify the true owner.—That’s all well and good, but why did you leave such an escape route intact? I ask you.” “Why did you inform Scar Crab and let him use it?” “I trusted Mr. Kitami Senzai, who calls himself Scar Crab.” “That man brought a letter of introduction from my homeland Greece that carried considerable credibility.”

“So he brought a letter of introduction from Greece, you say?” “Ah—so Scar Crab had been hiding in Greece.” “No, that’s quite all right.” “I’ll take my time hearing your story.” “However, if Scar Crab contacts you by phone or letter, notify headquarters immediately.” “Mark my words.” “Don’t forget.” “Understood.”

Just as Otto Pontos was about to bow respectfully and take his leave,

“Ah, please wait a moment.” A voice called out. It was none other than the masked detective Blue Dragon King, who had been fiddling with items left behind by Scar Crab while listening to the ongoing conversation.

“Mr.Pontos.” “Isn’t this yours?”

With that, Blue Dragon King showed a small piece of paper. The cabaret owner picked it up, but it appeared to be a fragment of some architectural diagram—lined with symbols for walls, stairs, and peculiar small chambers—though unfortunately cut from the very edge, making it impossible to tell what the full diagram depicted from this fragment alone. "What is this?" "In any case, this does not belong to me." Pontos wore an unconvinced expression and handed the paper fragment back to Blue Dragon King.

“One more question—was last night Akaboshi Julia’s first time coming here?”

“No, she came often, and I had her perform.” “I’ve asked her as many as seven or eight times already.” “You’ve been quite the devoted patron, it seems.” “That’s correct. Julia sings—the customers are pleased.” “I’m also pleased.” “Since it makes for quite good money-making, Ha! Ha! Ha!” As Pontos left with a blatant laugh, Inspector Ooeyama abruptly seized Blue Dragon King’s arm. “Produce that architectural diagram-like item.” “When on earth did you get that, and from where?”

Blue Dragon King calmly brushed off the inspector’s hand while, “This?” “You weren’t aware of this, I see.” “Oh, it was sewn inside the lining of Scar Crab’s torn coat,” he remarked offhandedly, then respectfully presented the paper fragment. “Now I shall duly deliver it into your hands, sir.”

Enigmatic Paper Fragment! What manner of secret does it tell?

The Vanished Corpse

For some reason, Blue Dragon King—who had been away from his office for over ten days—casually showed up at the detective agency around noon the day after the Cabaret Étoile incident.

The Masked Detective’s Return!

Sensing his presence, the brave boy detective Isamu came flying out from the back.

“Ah. Blue Dragon King—I just knew you’d come back today!” With that, he welcomed the masked detective, who as usual wore a snug black hood over his head and concealed everything below his eyes with a triangular cloth. The detective gently patted the boy’s shoulder with both hands. “Last night, Blue Dragon King, you were brilliant. But I was sure you’d call for us any moment now, yet since you didn’t call at all, I ended up so disappointed.”

"I knew both you and Ootsuji were there—but last night's incident was too dangerous to let either of you help." "In return though, I've got all sorts of souvenir stories for you, Blue Dragon King." "That man killed under the stage last night—he was Komuro Shizuya, some dandy who practically lived at Ryūgū Theater." "Always planted himself right by the stage—the instant Julia appeared? Clap-clap-clap before anyone else could blink. Total creep." "Any regular at Ryūgū Theater would recognize that guy."

“Ah, so that’s how it was,” said Blue Dragon King. “That’s valuable information.” “The horrific slash on that dandy Komuro’s throat and the wound on the student killed earlier in Hibiya Park—they’re both identical,” Isamu pressed. “Meaning both were done by a vampire!” Blue Dragon King’s eyes gleamed momentarily before he resumed his usual gentle demeanor. “Right—let’s have you recount that Hibiya Park incident in detail.”

Thereupon, the boy Isamu told everything he knew about the tragedy he had witnessed at Hibiya Park the previous evening. Blue Dragon King, smoking cut tobacco with relish from a bent pipe, listened intently. “According to your theory, Isamu—initially, the student and his girlfriend were happily talking under the satsuki azaleas.” “In the middle of their conversation, the girl had some business come up and left the student behind.” “According to your theory, the vampire waited until the student was alone, strangled him from behind, then slit his throat with a sickening slice to drink his blood—is that right?”

“That’s exactly right, Blue Dragon King.”

“And then—did that girlfriend 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 odd, isn’t it? If what you’ve just told me is accurate, she should have definitely returned by now, don’t you think? And no woman who looked like his girlfriend passed by outside?” “Yes, that’s right,” Isamu replied, but then suddenly realizing something— “Ah! Now that you mention it, Akaboshi Julia did come near us. But that person said she had passed by in a car. And although she didn’t come out from the car, Julia’s friend Yabashiri Chidori also came near us. But even so, these two…”

“But aside from these two, no other girl returned, I suppose.” “We need to consider that point for now.” “Moreover, from what we heard earlier about Shiro—no, that student’s diary having dozens of pages torn out at some point…”

“Mr. Ootsuji is furious about that matter. He insisted on questioning those two and went out today.” “Julia’s right earring was properly in place, but the left one only had the gold hoop attached to her earlobe with no stone visible—that’s an interesting discovery.” “I thought the gem that fell from the earring might have dropped in the grass where the vampire was hiding, so I searched—but I couldn’t find it. Then I thoroughly searched all the places I thought Julia had walked through—but still couldn’t find it. So I realized that the blue gem from Julia’s earring wasn’t something she dropped in that area. Blue Dragon King.”

The boy said this and blinked rapidly. Blue Dragon King was vigorously drawing purple smoke from his pipe, but eventually turned back toward the boy,

“Did you thoroughly search around the boy’s corpse as well?” “Of course I searched with a flashlight, but even after trying several times, I couldn’t find it.” “Hmm, so that’s how it is.” The boy was studying Blue Dragon King’s face intently. “Blue Dragon King, you’re not actually suspecting Akaboshi Julia and the others, are you?”

Blue Dragon King did not even attempt to answer, continuing silently to smoke his pipe all the while.

At that moment, the desk telephone’s bell began ringing shrilly and insistently. When the boy Isamu picked up the receiver and answered, the voice on the other end was that of Ootsuji, who should have gone to question Akaboshi Julia. “What? You’re saying a huge commotion has broken out in Marunouchi?” “Since Blue Dragon King is back, I’ll transfer the call now—wait there.”

With that, he handed over the receiver. Blue Dragon King listened with low murmurs of acknowledgment but eventually hung up the phone.

“What’s wrong, Blue Dragon King?”

“Well, apparently they discovered Scar Crab passing through the back entrance of Ryūgū Theater and exchanging gunfire with the police squad again.” “Scar Crab finally escaped—all that effort wasted.” “But they say it’s unclear whether he was walking outside Ryūgū Theater or had come out from inside.”

When Ryūgū Theater was mentioned, everyone immediately thought of Julia—could she truly be connected to the case after all?

“But that’s strange. How could Scar Crab walk around in broad daylight without anyone noticing that terrifying profile of his?”

“Well, apparently Scar Crab disguised himself like a country bumpkin, shouldered a trunk, and skillfully hid his scar.” “I see—that’s cleverly devised.” “Hahaha!” “Ootsuji met with Julia and asked about the diary, but she told him ‘I don’t know.’ This complicates things.”

Blue Dragon King entered his private room and then slept soundly until evening.

Around the time dinner was ready, when Isamu pressed the bell, Blue Dragon King appeared. Due to his ever-present mask, there was no way to discern his complexion, but his movements clearly seemed reinvigorated. With Ootsuji joining them, the three sat down together at the dining table for the first time in a while. However, all detective talk was omitted—this being in accordance with Blue Dragon King’s usual orders. Once dinner ended, Blue Dragon King left the office without a word about his destination, strolling off casually.

Where had Scar Crab escaped to? Where could he be hiding now?

The masked detective Blue Dragon King now showed signs of fully confronting the horrifying vampire case. It went without saying that his destination would ultimately lie in some quarter connected to this case. But as for that destination, it would remain a closely guarded secret for now; instead, it would be proper to first recount the strange incident that occurred late that night at the university’s forensic medicine department.

―――――――――――――――

The sprawling university grounds, surrounded by woods, were steeped in silence. 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 resembled ossuaries transformed into monstrous shapes. And every window stood pitch black. There was only one building from which a yellow light leaked through a window—as if forgotten, or like the glowing eyeball of some monster. That light came from the dissection room of the forensic medicine department.

Even when approaching, since the curtains were drawn deeply, what lay inside remained unclear—the state of things within couldn’t be discerned. Only occasionally would a metallic clang pierce the stillness of the night’s veil. That ominous sound clearly narrated the scene now unfolding behind closed doors. It was a classroom where steep horseshoe-shaped tiered desks rose in multiple layers. Facing the large central blackboard stood a stark white dissection table in solitary isolation. Beside it sat another small table lined with glinting scalpels of various sizes. Upon the dissection table lay a corpse pale as wax—judging by its stature, likely that of a boy. Two figures hovered around it, their heads nearly touching as they worked intently. One wore a white surgical gown, wielding scalpels and scissors to cut open the corpse’s throat. The other was a pale-faced young man dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. The surgeon was Professor Rouyama of forensic medicine; the pallid youth had introduced himself as Nishi Ichiro. By now, it must be evident that the corpse upon the table belonged to Nishi Shiro—the first victim claimed by the vampire’s torment.

“Amateurs really shouldn’t rush for results, you know,” said Professor Rouyama. “As I said, you must incise from the throat down to the chest like this, extract everything from the esophagus to the trachea, and examine meticulously from the periphery inward—otherwise there’s a risk of error.” “As the proverb goes: ‘More haste, less speed.’” “I’ve steeled myself for however long this takes.” “I’ll stay up all night if I must, but I will witness this.”

“Hmm.” “The time from now until around 2 a.m. is when things really get going.” “Your timing was good.” “I may not know much about your brother’s corpse, but you’re certainly dedicated.” “If it’s located above here, I’ll definitely find what you’re looking for, so rest assured.” “Well, the subcutaneous fat is quite developed, so using the scalpel is proving rather troublesome.” “I should have brought the electric scalpel for this…”

As he was saying this, the large bell on the wall rang out with a bzzzt. The occurrence was so sudden that the professor— “Wh-what—?!”

so much so that he nearly jumped up on the spot.

“What could that be, at this hour?”

“Hmm, could someone have come? How strange at this late hour,” the professor muttered, tilting his head.

At that moment, the bell rang again with a harsh bzzzt.

“I’ll go take a quick look.” The professor put 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 no voice answered. "Who's there?—"

Saying this, the professor peered out through the glass into the dark exterior—startled by something—

“Gah! This is bad!” he cried, plopping down on the spot, and called out loudly for Nishi Ichiro.

The voice should have certainly reached the dissection room, but Nishi, for some reason, did not emerge for quite some time. Professor Rouyama suddenly plunged into the abyss of terror, abruptly lost his voice, and could only flail his limbs wildly. “What happened, Professor!”

When a lively voice echoed from deeper within, Nishi Ichiro finally rushed over. The sound must have reached him at last. “Just now—a suspicious man was glaring through that window!” “Something like a pistol glinted—then my legs turned to jelly.” “Rather shameful, but…” “A suspicious man, you say?” Ichiro boldly stepped to the doorway and peered into the dark outside. Yet no trace of any suspicious figure met his eyes. Concluding the professor had likely seen a phantom, he hoisted the man up and supported him by the shoulder.

“Ah, cold.” “Your hands are wet, aren’t they?” “Did you wash them over there?” “No, it’s nothing…” “Why did you wash your hands?” “What on earth were you doing?” “I won’t tolerate anyone violating the sanctity of the forensic medicine classroom.” Ichiro firmly supported the professor—whose eloquence existed only in speech—and walked down the hallway back toward the dissection room.

“Oh, this is strange!” Ichiro cried. “What’s strange?” The professor grabbed Ichiro by the collar. “Hmm, this is strange. The classroom lights are off. Did you turn them off?” “No, it wasn’t me.” “I didn’t turn them off.” “Since there are so many strange things happening, let’s go and see quietly.” “Please don’t make a sound.” “Alright?”

The two approached the door quietly. And then they peered intently into the pitch-black room. The two nearly let out a startled “Gah!” Though it was unclear who, there was someone illuminating the dissection table with a flashlight. But it vanished immediately, and the room sank back into gloom. Instead, there came an eerie, grating sound—like something heavy being dragged across the floor.

Ichiro whispered to the professor and asked where the room’s light switch was located. The professor had said it was installed on the wall immediately upon entering the room. He ignored the professor’s attempts to stop him, sprang forward with vigor, felt around for the switch in the pitch darkness, and flicked on the light. Instantly, the room was filled with a blazing light as bright as day.

“Gah! A suspicious man!”

When they looked, the window to the left of the blackboard stood open, where a man was attempting to flee with one leg already over the sill.

“Wait!”

As he called out, the suspicious man swiftly turned back toward the room. Ah, that terrifying face! On his left cheek was now distinctly visible a large birthmark-like shape.

“Ah, it’s him!” As he shouted this, Ichiro pressed down on Professor Rouyama’s waist—who was still struggling to break free and lunge at the intruder—and dragged him into the shadow of the podium. Boom.

Before the deafening gunshot could even register, a bullet whizzed past the two men’s ears and shattered the glass window at the far end of the hallway with a crash. Had Ichiro’s actions been a second later, the professor’s forehead might have been pierced by a bullet. For five minutes—the two of them stiffened like boards and hid in the shadow of the podium. Thinking it was safe now, they timidly raised their heads and looked toward the window—it remained wide open, but the suspicious man was already gone. Professor Rouyama let out a sigh of relief—then shifted his gaze to the dissection table and froze in shock.

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

Indeed, on the dissection table lay only the corpse’s shroud—the body that should have been there until moments ago had vanished without a trace. "That bastard stole it! Look here," Ichiro pointed at the floor and said, "there are drag marks from the corpse leading all the way to the window. He threw it out the window and left it there, then climbed over and escaped!" "Yeah, no doubt," replied the professor. "Hurry and give chase!"

“It’s too late. He’s already gotten away…” “He’s gotten away…” “What are you talking about? “That’s your brother’s corpse, isn’t it?!” “Even if we caught up, we’d just end up getting shot with a pistol.” “Instead, let’s call the Metropolitan Police Department.” “I’ve never met a cowardly young man like you before.” “You’re useless.”

The professor kept muttering angrily without end.

Why had Shisen Senzai, who had been loitering around Marunouchi in broad daylight, stolen the corpse late at night? Why had Ichiro not pursued his brother’s corpse? Was he truly a coward?

Lovely Song Princess

The next day, Nishi Ichiro appeared in Marunouchi, strolling aimlessly. Then he walked unhesitatingly into the dressing room of the Ryūgū Theater during its performance. Akaboshi Julia’s starring role in *Red Strawberry Fruit* appeared to be a sensation, as audiences had packed the theater since midday. Though it was precisely intermission, the promenade corridors, smoking rooms, and cafeteria overflowed with people entrancedly mimicking the melody of *Red Strawberry Fruit* through whistling and foot-tapping. Popular though it was, this remained an utterly sinister melody.

“Oh my, Mr. Nishi—it’s been an age—”

Julia welcomed Ichiro warmly.

“Well, thank you for promptly granting my request.” “With this, I can rise above the ranks of the unemployed.” Ichiro had asked Julia and thus came to be hired as an apprentice member of the revue troupe. He was a tall, handsome man with an aptitude for music and some skill in tap dancing—which he particularly enjoyed—so he had asked Julia for this bold employment opportunity. Though typically self-willed, perhaps out of sympathy for Ichiro—whose brother had been murdered—she willingly took on the trouble of securing the manager’s approval.

“Oh my—if you thank me so formally, I’ll be at a loss~.” “—But do study hard, won’t you? For my honor as your introducer~” “Well, I may be a fickle sort who causes trouble, but I intend to take my craft seriously.” “How reliable~.” “I want you to improve quickly and become my dance partner~” “No way—” Ichiro laughed awkwardly, but Julia—uncharacteristically—didn’t join in. Her dreamlike eyes remained fixed on his face until she suddenly seemed to regain herself and offered a soft smile.

“Hoh… hoh… hoh…” Ichiro felt he had absorbed every nuance of Julia’s beauty through his gaze. To call her merely beautiful would be inadequate—hers was precisely that tormenting beauty which enthralls. No wonder she commanded a million admirers in the imperial capital. He remembered once leafing through a foreign art book containing Léon Perrault’s striking painting *Venus Riding a Chariot*. It showed a golden chariot amid ocean waves, bearing the nude goddess Venus who smiled bewitchingly while combing her disheveled hair. He sensed Akaboshi Julia possessed that same Perraultian beauty—so painfully alluring it bordered on anguish. This was a beauty somehow divorced from Japanese sensibilities, exotically foreign. Her Westernized stage name “Julia” suited this radiance perfectly.

Julia picked up the receiver on Ichiro’s behalf and called the manager’s office. But unfortunately, the manager had business to attend to and had not yet arrived at the theater. “Then you won’t wait here?” “Yes, I’ll take you up on waiting.” “In the meantime, I’d like to give you a gift, Ms. Julia—”

Having said that, Ichiro looked at Julia’s face.

“A gift, you say? “My, how dutiful of you~. “—What on earth are you giving me?” “This is it—”

Ichiro took out a small paper box from his pocket and placed it in front of Julia. “Oh, what is this?”

Julia took the small box and opened the lid. Inside lay pure white cotton padding spread out, upon which rested a single blue emerald gemstone. “This is—” The color drained from Julia’s face. She sprang to her feet like a coiled spring, rushed to the entrance, turned her back to the door, then whirled around to glare at Ichiro. “You… you’re trying to…” “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 agitation. “This must be the gem that fell from your earring. This is something I picked up and kept—it’s the sort of item that would cause complications if the police or detectives found out about it. I’ll return it to you as a souvenir.” Julia, seeming to acknowledge that Ichiro bore no ill will, hurriedly clasped the blue gemstone in her palm—then, perhaps unable to contain her intense emotions, burst into tears and collapsed onto her vanity. Still, when and where had Ichiro picked up the fallen gem from the earring?

“Ms. Julia.” “Please tell me.” “You were meeting Shiro under the shade of the May azaleas in Hibiya Park, weren’t you?”

“……” Julia stopped crying. “I’ve realized that. In other words, I realized it from where the earring had fallen.” “Where had this fallen?” Julia raised her face and cried out.

“It was from the thicket where Shiro had collapsed.”

“That’s a lie. I searched everywhere, but I couldn’t find it at all.” “It had been buried in the soil, you see. It must’ve been pressed down after being trampled by so many people’s shoes.” “Oh… So that’s what happened. What a relief.”

All of that was Ichiro’s fabrication. To tell the truth，he had discovered it from Shiro’s corpse last night. While Professor Rouyama went out into the corridor of the forensic medicine department upon hearing the bell，Ichiro acted on what he had long believed. He made them open Shiro’s corpse’s oral cavity，thrust his hand inside，and probed all the way to throat—sure enough，he found a clue，and earring’s gemstone emerged. In truth，he had intended to have Professor Rouyama incise esophagus and trachea to check for gemstone’s presence，but upon hearing suspicious bell，he quickly perceived imminent danger and resorted to drastic measure—fortunately，gemstone caught on his fingertips. For amateur，it was remarkably skillful and well-executed feat. Fact that he had allowed Shisen Senzai—who later barged in and stole corpse—to slip away could also be attributed to him having already secured earring’s gemstone；moreover，it seemed likely he refrained from pursuing due peril involved.

In any case, the gem from Julia’s earring was discovered within Shiro’s oral cavity.

Why the gem had ended up there was one matter, but why was Ichiro deliberately falsifying the discovery location to Julia?

“Ms. Julia. “Shiro didn’t mention anything to you about someone holding a grudge against him, did he?”

From this exchange, it appeared that Ichiro was indeed attempting to uncover the culprit who had murdered his beloved younger brother Shiro. “Ah, Mr. Ichiro,” Julia raised her face with a pained expression, “I’ll tell you everything. And I’ll return the pages I tore from your younger brother’s diary.”

Julia took out the torn diary from the costume trunk and handed it to Ichiro. It was unmistakably Shiro’s handwritten diary—the same one Ootsuji had initially discovered beside the corpse on the day Shiro was killed, which had been torn when he saw it a second time. Ichiro voraciously read through it.

“If you read it carefully, you’ll understand—Mr. Shiro and I became friends after meeting on the coast of Chiba.” “We were just close friends—I wasn’t in love with him, so please don’t misunderstand me, all right? —That day too, Mr. Shiro had come to meet me.” “Then, as evening fell, Mr. Shiro and I went for a walk in Hibiya Park and were talking under those May azaleas when I heard the horn of my car—the one I’d left waiting nearby. I told him, ‘Wait here for me—I’ll be right back,’ and left Mr. Shiro there while I headed toward Hibiya’s East Gate.” “There, I found my car, so intending to bring Mr. Shiro along with me, I drove back to pick him up. But when I returned to the shade of the May azaleas… he had been killed.” “I was stunned, but—this is the burden of being a public figure—if I’d stayed there dithering and been seen, it would’ve caused a terrible scandal. So I tried to leave… but then I remembered how much about me was written in the diary Mr. Shiro had shown me that day. I couldn’t let that remain behind, so I tore out the pages I just gave you.” “Then, before long, everyone found me there.” “That’s everything.”

“Ah, I see,” Ichiro said with a deep nod. “Then you must have dropped the earring’s gem at that time too. If this had been found as well, it would’ve caused complications—so you went back to search for it later. Is that right?” “You’re absolutely correct,” Julia replied. “I only noticed the missing gem after entering my dressing room. I searched everywhere for it. I’m truly grateful to you. But please—don’t tell anyone about this.” “Of course,” Ichiro assured her. “In return, tell me—did you see anything resembling the culprit?”

“The culprit? As for anything resembling the culprit… no one saw a thing—”

Just as she was saying this, the telephone rang. It was a call from the manager who had emerged, requesting to meet Nishi Ichiro immediately.

After that, Ichiro went to the manager’s office. Thanks to Julia’s intervention, everything had been settled under favorable conditions. Today, it was decided that the trainees would make an appearance in about three scenes of "Red Strawberry Fruit". Then he introduced them to the cast members in the communal dressing room.

Ichiro went to Julia’s room to report on it, but the door was locked. And that made sense—Julia was currently on stage performing in a comic opera. Behind the curtain at the side of the stage, two men who appeared to be critics stood with their shoulders nearly touching, deeply impressed by Julia’s passionate performance. “Julia is undoubtedly a great genius who appears once in a century, if that.” “Look here—what about that passion and vitality… Today’s performance is especially splendid.”

“I completely agree.” “Where does that passion come from?” “No one can imitate her…” “Julia has days when she’s in exceptionally fine form.” “Today is precisely one of those days.” “It’s almost frightening to watch.” “Exactly.” “I’d been wanting to say that too.” “I watch Julia every day, but I distinctly remember her peak days.” “The first, the third…and today being the fourth…”

“You remember well.” "No, there’s a reason I remember that." “That’s because, strangely enough, those are the very days when the extra editions and newspapers reported those vampire incidents, you know.” “Hah! So do those incidents somehow stimulate Julia?” “But wait—today I didn’t see any newspaper articles about vampires claiming victims.” “Hah! Seems like you’ve finally tricked me.” “Ha ha ha!” “Ha ha ha!”

Perhaps overcome with disgust toward the critics, Ichiro left the spot with an angry look on his face.

Shisen Senzai’s Sky Burial

At that very moment, in the investigation headquarters, Prosecutor Karagane and Chief Detective Ooeyama sat facing each other with grim expressions. On the desk lay the fragment of an architectural diagram that Blue Dragon King had found among Shisen Senzai’s clothes.

"Mr. Karagane, you may say that, but that masked detective remains deeply suspicious," said Chief Detective Ooeyama, once again fanning the flames of criticism against Blue Dragon King. "First, that mask itself is improper. There’s intense discontent among the subordinates at headquarters. If we keep allowing that masked figure free rein, it could lead to a grave crisis in organizational discipline." "You needn’t trouble yourself over it," replied Prosecutor Karagane. "There’s no need to get so heated. He’s merely a private detective."

“I called earlier as well, but Blue Dragon King’s whereabouts were unknown.” “And before that, he’d been missing for ten days straight.” “Ah, never mind.” “He isn’t the kind of person who’d do anything bad.” “Speaking of missing persons, there’s that man Nishi Ichiro, you know.” “We let our guard down because he was the victim’s brother, but I tell you, he was quite something.” “One moment he was unemployed and lazing around at home, and the next he’d disappear somewhere and wouldn’t come back for nights on end.” “Even though she was being paid to house-sit, the old housemaid was creeped out.” “The same thing happened last night.” “While deceiving Professor Rōzan and having Shiro’s corpse autopsied for some unknown purpose, he called in a suspicious man and had the body stolen.” “Yet he claims Shisen Senzai stole the corpse.” “That man is a fake brother, I tell you.” “If he were the real brother, he’d exert every ounce of strength to chase after and retrieve the corpse.”

“No—he truly **is** his brother.” “I’ve kept up appearances before my subordinates and reporters long enough—as of today, I’ll stop that and declare my real thoughts.” “To start with—today at that Cabaret Étoile mess, getting outfoxed by Blue Dragon King’s little punk brat leaves a bitter taste.”

Just as he was saying this, a waiter entered and informed Prosecutor Karagane that there was a phone call for him.

“Ah, this is Karagane—” When he answered the call, it turned out to be from none other than the masked detective Blue Dragon King—the very subject of the rumors. “There was a new vampire incident today, wasn’t there?” “Ah, you already caught wind of it? I intended to keep that absolutely secret, but actually—” As if forgetting his current conversation with Ooeyama, Prosecutor Karagane began discussing the confidential case. Earlier that day just before noon, when they had dispatched officers to Cabaret Étoile to investigate matters related to the ongoing case and retrieve someone, they found all employees present—but the owner Otto Pontos was reported missing. When they inspected Pontos’ bedroom, there were clear signs someone had slept in the bed, but Pontos himself was nowhere to be found. Upon closer inspection, there were two or three traces where coagulated human blood had been wiped off the floor. Another odd detail was that a portable phonograph had been left playing in the room—the record spinning on it turned out to be Akaboshi Julia’s recording of *Red Strawberry Fruit*. As of now, Pontos’s whereabouts remain unknown.

After recounting that story, Prosecutor Karagane sought Blue Dragon King’s opinion, whereupon he clicked his tongue on the other end of the line and said.

“Mr. Karagane, Pontos was killed sometime between last night and around noon today, you know.”

“You think so? “Who killed him?――”

“Of course he was killed by the vampire.” “The corpse should be nearby.” “It’s strange that it hasn’t been discovered yet.”

“So it was a vampire after all.” “If that’s the case, this makes the third victim.” “This marks the true emergence of a full-fledged serial killer! —By the way, where are you right now?” “Isamu was looking for you—did you meet him?” “I’m afraid I can’t exactly tell you the location.” “Is that so? What did Isamu-kun say?――”

Just as he had gotten that far, startled by something, Blue Dragon King on the other end of the phone— “Hmm—”

he groaned.

And then,

“Mr. Karagane, I’ll contact you again later――”

With that, the phone clattered and disconnected.

"4:10 PM.—" The prosecutor quietly checked his watch. As if he had been waiting, Chief Detective Ooeyama called out.

“We’ve located Blue Dragon King.” “I just had the telephone company investigate it.” “Blue Dragon King made that call from inside Ryūgū Theater.” “I will detain him for questioning by virtue of my authority—”

"4:10 PM.—"

As if not hearing Ooeyama’s words, the prosecutor quietly repeated the same phrase.

Just a short while before this, in Akaboshi Julia’s dressing room at Ryūgū Theater, a truly horrifying spectacle was unfolding—as if it were a scene from some play. Akaboshi Julia was performing in the operetta, but her role as the Goddess of the South Seas had concluded midway through. With only the final act remaining, the entire troupe except for her had taken their positions on stage, leaving Julia alone to return to her dressing room. She entered her private room and began removing the goddess costume. Normally, Yabashiri Chidori would assist her, but since Chidori had unexpectedly been given a role in the final act and was now on stage, Julia had no choice but to remove the costume herself.

In front of a large five-panel makeup mirror, she first removed the queen’s crown. Then she sat down, crouched low, and began to remove her long boots and socks. There was nothing as pleasant as finishing her performance, removing her socks, and becoming barefoot. She quietly massaged her supple, translucent-white shins with her fingertips. And just as she stood up again to remove her costume, she suddenly sensed a presence in the room and whirled around to look behind her.

“Be quiet. Move and I’ll shoot.—” Though she hadn’t noticed his arrival, a mysterious man now stood rigidly glaring at Julia. In his left hand he clutched an antiquated large pistol, his visage as terrifying as an Ashura’s. On one cheek protruded a horrifying black mark shaped like a crab—revealing this to be none other than the infamous bandit Shisen Senzai.

Julia only turned slightly pale. Without showing any particular surprise, she positioned the makeup mirror behind her and stared sharply at Shisen Senzai, then parted her crimson lips,

“Just leave already. You shouldn’t have any business left here.” “Nah, I’ve still got plenty left here,” he spat resentfully, jerking his chin. “If I don’t take what I came for, this whole trip back to Japan’s been a waste.—” “That’s not very manly of you.—” “Hmph—say whatever you like.” “First of all, what I want is this!―”

Shisen Senzai edged closer to Julia, grabbed the large metal pendant necklace around her neck, and tore it off with a violent yank. The thread snapped, sending beads cascading across the floor. Ignoring the scattered beads, he took the pendant in his palm and deftly pried open its back with one hand. A scrap of paper covered in minute handwriting slipped out. Shisen Senzai grinned,

“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—!” Shisen Senzai discarded his pistol, then leapt like a fierce tiger and closed in on Julia. His thick wrist attempted to tightly squeeze her throat.

“Huh?!”

Beneath the screaming voice, the makeup mirror was pressed backward against the windowpane and shattered with a thunderous crash. That was the moment. A young man—kicking open the entrance door with a bang, he burst into the room— “Ah, Ichiro, help me…!” “You villain—what are you doing?!”

The young man was Nishi Ichiro. He had no time to respond to Julia; with a bravery unbecoming of him, he suddenly grabbed Senzai from behind. “You impudent brat!” Senzai, remaining perfectly calm, allowed Ichiro to grapple him.

“Julia, you’ll learn your lesson soon enough!” With that threat, he gave a fierce yell and wrenched his body around. Though Ichiro was full of vigor, that demonic strength sent him flying instantly.

Hearing a voice shout, “Everyone, charge! The police squad is here—we’re safe!”, the backup team came rushing in. When Shisen Senzai heard “police squad,” he clicked his tongue, shoved aside the theater youths surging at the entrance, and bolted into the hallway. In the blink of an eye, he tried to descend the stairs, but upon seeing Section Chief Ooeyama and others roaring up from below, “Hah!” he twisted his body, smashed through the open window there, and fled to the roof.

“Don’t let him escape!”

The entire group then rushed out onto the roof. Shisen Senzai, despite his massive frame, nimbly darted about in all directions but finally concealed himself behind the tallest tower. “Now, surround him from three sides!” “Now, charge!”

Section Chief Ooeyama issued a sharp command. But just then, the rope of the Ryūgū Theater’s advertising balloon—which had been swaying unsteadily beyond the tower—quivered oddly. In the blink of an eye, Shisen Senzai’s figure appeared atop the tower, and his body shot up into the sky. “Damn! He’s cut the balloon’s rope!” Someone shouted, but it was already too late. The gaudy balloon swiftly soared higher into the void, and the black figure of Shisen Senzai dangling beneath it steadily diminished into the distance.

“Hmm, he’s been acting mighty cocky,” Section Chief Ooeyama glared at a corner of the sky, then barked, “Alright! Someone call Haneda Airfield and get a plane chasing that balloon immediately!”

The group continued gazing up at the sky for what felt like an eternity. A report came in that from the airfield, a high-speed passenger plane and a training aircraft with strong climbing power immediately took off and headed out to search for the balloon. Upon hearing this, the group stood rooted in place, their gazes equally divided between the sky where the advertising balloon had vanished and the direction of Haneda, remaining motionless for what felt like an eternity. Section Chief Ooeyama turned aside and muttered to himself, addressing no one in particular.

"I was certain the Blue Dragon King had come, yet I couldn’t find him at all. Instead, I found Shisen Senzai, but let him escape again. In that case, I suppose I’ll have to take that Nishi Ichiro I spotted into custody."

However, by the time the section chief descended below, Nishi Ichiro had also vanished.

The Tragedy of Pachino’s Tomb

By the time night’s veil had completely shrouded the imperial capital, a report arrived at Metropolitan Police Headquarters from Haneda Airfield. “We searched for the Ryūgū Theater’s advertising balloon, but unfortunately our departure was delayed. We ascended to an altitude of three thousand meters yet ultimately failed to locate it. As dusk deepened and visibility became fully obstructed, we had no choice but to descend. We sincerely regret this failure.”

At the investigation headquarters too, this was deeply regrettable. It pained them to have let Shisen Senzai escape after finally cornering him on the roof. However, even for someone as seemingly indestructible as Senzai, having been blown to such extreme heights, his safe return seemed highly improbable. When some began suggesting this had likely been Senzai's aerial funeral, the mood at headquarters lifted slightly. "The vampire case should end with this, I suppose." "Ending before we even understand what happened—though I almost feel sorry about that."

Section Chief Ooeyama, who had been listening to this, resolutely struck the desk. “Even if the vampire incident is resolved, there are still a great many things left unresolved. “To maintain the peace and order of the imperial capital, we must see this through to the end. “If anyone here lets their guard down now, I won’t stand for it!”

The entire group fell silent at that angry shout. Then, with the briskness honed through experience, Section Chief Ooeyama proceeded to enumerate each immediate issue requiring investigation one by one.

“First, locate Otto Pontos, proprietor of Cabaret Étoile, whose status—alive or dead—remains unconfirmed. Second, since the Ryūgū Theater balloon that Shisen Senzai escaped on is expected to crash somewhere, have alerts issued nationwide to be on the lookout. At the same time, remain vigilant—Shisen Senzai’s corpse may have crashed with the balloon or could be lying nearby. However, based on past experience, the balloon should naturally descend within forty-eight hours. Third, immediately report any sightings of the masked detective to the section chief. In carrying out these matters, we will adopt the following personnel assignments:――”

With that, he appointed the responsible section chiefs and assigned personnel. The entire group was determined to get to the bottom of everything and earn the section chief’s praise.

Unaware that such a perilous matter had been placed upon him, the masked detective Blue Dragon King was on the phone with his young subordinate Isamu, paying no heed to the rooftop pursuit unfolding at Ryūgū Theater. “So, what kind of ancient documents did you discover in Pontos’s hidden cupboard?” “It was all foreign characters I couldn’t understand, so I showed them to Mr. Ootsuji, and he said they were Greek. Mr. Ootsuji mentioned he’d studied Greek long ago—he managed to read them with a dictionary. Here’s what they said: ‘In Meiji 2 [1870], a Greek man named Pachino arrived in Tokyo with ten subordinates and established residence. By the following year [Meiji 3], an epidemic claimed his men one after another, leaving Pachino alone. Yet he too fell ill and, knowing his time was short, crafted a special coffin and descended into the earth to die.’ Another document stated: ‘Due to frequent fires and the passage of time, details of Pachino’s tomb have been lost, leaving only the place name “Ginza.”’” “Furthermore,” Isamu continued, “Pachino formed a relationship with a Japanese woman named Osumi, but she perished in a disaster. The child born between them—its surname unknown—went missing.” “Along with that,” he added, “all important documents about Pachino’s tomb were lost. Only a few communications sent to his homeland and architectural plans of the tomb’s interior remain—that’s what it says.” “Are you listening, Blue Dragon King?”

“No, I’m listening intently. So that’s how it is. The cabaret owner Pontos also came from his homeland searching for Pachino’s tomb. Meanwhile, Shisen Senzai happened to catch wind of this secret, obtained the tomb’s architectural plans in his home country, and returned to Japan. All secrets lie hidden within that Pachino tomb. As for the tomb’s location, I have some leads—but tracking down Pachino’s descendants will be rather troublesome. Still, I believe everything lies within the tomb itself. Now then, Isamu—”

“Wait, please. Where are you now, Blue Dragon King? Where are you going next?” “If it’s about me, you needn’t worry at all.――”

With that, Blue Dragon King hung up the receiver. Anxious beyond measure, young Isamu inquired with the telephone exchange—and to his astonishment, the call Blue Dragon King had made originated from within Ryūgū Theater itself. Where in the world could he be concealing himself?

Two uneventful days passed.

The case showed no signs of being resolved as hoped, but in its place, no new vampire incidents occurred. Had the vampire finally been destroyed? To explain in detail, when the afternoon of the seventh day arrived, the balloon that Shisen Senzai had boarded to escape was discovered fallen in the mountain forests of Hakone. However, strangely enough, the balloon was discovered beneath a layer of dead leaves. And it was reported that the corpse of Shisen Senzai was nowhere to be found. Upon this report, the police under their jurisdiction simultaneously launched activities to discover Shisen Senzai’s corpse.

It was also on that same night.

When Nishi Ichiro was present in Akaboshi Julia’s dressing room, a telephone call came to Julia from nowhere. When she picked up the phone, the caller claimed to be the masked detective Blue Dragon King. “Blue Dragon King, you say?” “Oh my, what business could you possibly have with me?” Julia inquired suspiciously. The voice on the phone informed her that while Shisen Senzai’s balloon had been discovered, his corpse remained missing; that at dusk, someone had reportedly seen a man resembling Senzai drinking water at a riverside near Yumoto at the foot of Hakone’s mountains; and that when investigators later visited the riverside as a precaution, they found a scrap of paper which, upon opening, revealed a blood-written note stating: “Pachino’s Tomb Conquered.”

“Conquered Pachino’s Tomb, you say?” Julia blurted out, her voice rising sharply as if startled beyond measure. The voice on the phone answered, “Yes, I don’t know what it means, but it definitely says ‘Pachino,’” then hung up.

Julia threw herself into the armchair as though collapsing. Nishi Ichiro said to Julia, as though he had been impatiently waiting for the call to end.

“Did Blue Dragon King himself make the call?”

“Yes, that’s right… Why…” “Ha ha, it’s nothing.”

Ichiro’s demeanor clearly showed signs of agitation, but Julia seemed not to notice. Unlike the call made by Blue Dragon King, all that came into headquarters, even late into the night, were reports stating, “The corpse of Shisen Senzai remains unfound, and no individual resembling Senzai has been sighted within our jurisdiction”—serving only to provoke Superintendent Ōeyama’s temper.

In the depths of that midnight, just as the clock struck exactly twelve, from the direction of Cabaret Étoile’s basement—now closed for business, devoid of residents, and transformed into something like a haunted house—there came a creak, the grating sound of something hard scraping. Uniformed police officers were stationed at the front and back of Étoile, but the small, eerie sound from the subterranean depths was far too faint to reach their ears. Who on earth made that eerie sound?

If there had been someone peering into the basement at that moment, they would have noticed that the pile of empty barrels stacked in the corner was twisted oddly. No—had one looked more closely, they could have perceived that the corner of the wall supporting those barrels had split vertically, and a dark figure slipped through the crevice.

It was a hidden secret staircase that led even deeper underground. The hand of the dark figure, descending cautiously and slowly, ceaselessly illuminated the surrounding walls with the beam of a flashlight. By some chance, the reflected light abruptly illuminated his face - when one looked, this dark figure was a burly giant of sturdy build: from the eyes downward, his features were entirely concealed by black cloth, and he had pulled his hat brim deeply over his head. A masked stranger - indeed, his attire was identical in every detail to that of the notorious Blue Dragon King. Ah - could it be that Blue Dragon King had finally come barging in?

He quietly descended the staircase. Below seemed quite spacious. Wasn't this the structure of an Edo-period hidden storehouse? ——What was happening below? Only occasional thudding sounds could be heard, yet no matter how much time passed, he did not emerge.

A terrifying silence, a terrifying moment in the depths! At that moment, someone thought they heard a faint whistle somewhere. People must have doubted it was just their imagination. But it was undoubtedly a whistle. A melody growing clearer by the moment. Ah—it was the melody of Akaboshi Julia's signature "Red Strawberry Fruit"—but in this instance, what a horrifying whistle it was. The dark walls, like demons, accompanied that eerie melody. ……And then, suddenly—utterly without warning—a soul-rending scream resounded from the depths.

“Kyaa… U… u… u…”

But that was all. The scream came only once and was not heard again.

A horrifying tragedy was enacted in those depths.

Let us go to that scene.

What a gruesome sight this was—there lay what appeared to be a dead-end underground chamber. A man lay collapsed, as if grasping at empty air and arching backward. Beside him lay a large box. The lid had been thrown open. From within, something white peeked out, but upon closer inspection, it was a ghastly skeleton. And around it, round gold coins glittered brightly. The gold coins were also scattered haphazardly across the ground. Beside it lay a torn piece of an architectural blueprint. That was undoubtedly Shisen Senzai’s closely guarded blueprint. All these ghastly spectacles were being starkly illuminated by a single flashlight.

The flashlight moved quietly. —and illuminated the face of the corpse hidden in the shadow of the box. First, what caught the eye was the deep wound at the throat—as if gouged by a sharp blade. Ah—just as one might have thought—when that whistle had been heard earlier, the utterly cruel vampire must have emerged. Though the hat had flown off, the black cloth of the mask covered what lay beneath the glaringly exposed white eyes. Ah, this was indeed the dark figure who had descended into these depths earlier. And anyone who knew would have recognized that this was none other than the now-famous masked detective Blue Dragon King of the capital. Ah—Blue Dragon King had been killed. Why had he been killed so mercilessly in this underground place?

“Are you ready? Let me remove this mask.”

A man’s voice sounded from the darkness. That was likely the voice of the person holding the flashlight.

Within the beam of light, an arm suddenly thrust out. It stretched toward the corpse’s mask and grasped the black cloth. The mask peeled away with a slow, dragging motion. And sure enough, from beneath it emerged a face drained of color. Ah, that face—that face! On its wax-like cheek was an ugly scar shaped like a crab…

“Oh… This is Shisen Senzai…”

What in the world... Was the masked detective actually Shisen Senzai? But how strange. Could such a thing be possible? Yet there was no doubt—the one who had met such a gruesome end here was none other than Shisen Senzai.

“You speak of Pontos who is missing, but everyone demands your explanation.”

said the man with the flashlight. It was a voice he had heard somewhere before. “No‚ I’m not the culprit. “This Julia was skillfully lured here by your phone call.” “It’s a trap—a terrible trap!” “Ah‚ I—”

And the voice that wailed and collapsed in tears was, surprisingly, none other than Akaboshi Julia—the current Prima Donna of the Ryūgū Theater.

So it became clear. This was Pachino’s tomb. What in the world had happened this late night? Who was the man accusing Julia? And where could the vampire that had appeared in the underground depths possibly hide?

Alive or dead—the masked detective.

Inspector Ōeyama of the Metropolitan Police Department—feared like a demon god by Tokyo’s shadowy underworld—awoke that morning to his first pleasant start in what felt like ages. It was due to last night’s gentle rain. Or perhaps it was because four days had passed since Shisen Senzai’s aerial burial, leaving him reassured that the vampire incidents had been resolved.—Still in his nightclothes, the inspector stepped out onto the veranda. “Hands on hips! Knees half-bent! Starting with leg exercises—ready—begin!”

In time with the radio’s shouted commands of “One! Two! Three!”, Inspector Ōeyama began his radio calisthenics, swinging his massive frame vigorously. For some reason, he felt a childlike joy and happiness welling up from the pit of his stomach.

“Alright! With this energy, I’ll sweep away all the villains threatening the lives of the Imperial Capital’s citizens!” Inspector Ōeyama continued his calisthenics with movements as if pummeling villains, counting “One! Two!” in rhythm. But that happiness was not to last long. For there, waiting in the shadows, was the tragedy at Pachino’s Cemetery—a horror poised to send Inspector Ōeyama’s confidence plummeting to the depths. The news of last night’s Pachino Cemetery Incident came in the form of a telephone call from Prosecutor Karagane, its shrill, grating bell rudely interrupting Inspector Ōeyama’s radio calisthenics.

“Good morning. “Ah yes, this is Ōeyama speaking…”

“Ah, Mr. Ōeyama,” came Prosecutor Karagane’s sharp voice slamming through the line. “You don’t sound well—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 needle-sharp.

“Wh-what in the world has happened? I-I still don’t know anything about this, but…” “You don’t know? Do you think you can feign ignorance? Go immediately into the basement of Cabaret Étoile and inspect Pachino’s Cemetery. After that, promptly have the officers who were guarding the cabaret’s entrances admitted to the Communicable Disease Research Institute. Got that?” With a sharp click, the phone went dead. Ōeyama had never before known an instance where the prosecutor had been this furious. What could have happened to the guards stationed at Étoile? What was this “Pachino’s Cemetery” business about?

He stood dumbfounded for a while, feeling as if a fox had pinched his nose, but soon snapped back to his senses. Hurriedly donning his uniform and fastening his dagger, he practically tumbled into the canvas-topped car waiting at the gate.

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

The driver couldn’t understand why he was being told such a thing, but thinking that being sent to the hospital would be disastrous, he accelerated the car to a ferocious speed.

At the cabaret, Prosecutor Karagane had already arrived first, taken a seat on a sofa thickly coated in white dust, and was busily producing Asahi cigarette butts. And when Inspector Ōeyama appeared,

“Ah, Mr. Ōeyama, you may rejoice.” “We’ll be sensationalized in the evening papers and become even more famous.” “It’s entirely thanks to your negligence.” The Demon Inspector had no words to respond. So he proposed conducting a site inspection. Prosecutor Karagane discarded his freshly lit cigarette into the ashtray while shouting, “I’ve been wanting to see your face when you inspect it!”, but then abruptly lowered his voice into his usual tone. “Truly, it’s as if a stage has been specially set for you. However, we must thoroughly reject preconceptions.”

While thinking it strange to be told such things, Inspector Ōeyama took the lead ahead of Prosecutor Karagane and descended into the depths via the underground secret passage. They say the underworld holds infinite allure, but never could they have imagined that allure would lie beneath this cabaret they had so thoroughly investigated. As the narrow, crumbling stone staircase ended and they finally entered Pachino’s Tomb, hastily installed electric lights blazed brilliantly, illuminating every corner of the cave strewn with gold coins. The skeleton in the coffin remained exactly as it had been the previous night—and so too did Shisen Senzai’s corpse, frozen in death while clutching at empty air in his final moments. However, compared to last night’s scene, what differed was the absence of the Ryūgū Theater’s prima donna, Akaboshi Julia, and the suspicious man who had been shining a flashlight beside her.

“I knew it!”

No sooner had Inspector Ōeyama leapt into the spot than he shouted. “The Blue Dragon King—the masked detective—was indeed Shisen Senzai!” he declared, indicating the fallen man’s attire. “What do you say to that, Mr. Prosecutor? My earlier warning about the masked detective being suspicious wasn’t wasted after all.” “No—it may still prove entirely wasted,” came the reply. “While I acknowledge this as Shisen Senzai’s corpse, it’s premature to recognize it as the Blue Dragon King’s. When I mentioned a stage seemingly set for you earlier—this is precisely what I meant. This has been arranged so that removing the Blue Dragon King’s mask would lead you into mistaking him for Shisen Senzai…”

“So even after seeing this, Mr. Prosecutor, you still don’t believe Shisen Senzai was impersonating the Blue Dragon King?” “Of course I believe that. However, whether the true Blue Dragon King was actually Scar Crab remains an entirely separate matter.”

The prosecutor wore an expression that refused to believe Scar Crab was the Blue Dragon King. “Mr. Ōeyama, let’s set that issue aside for later. This Scar Crab here seems to have clearly been taken out by a vampire—what’s your take on this?” “Yes, it is indeed a vampire.” “Given these torn-out wounds at the neck and the extremely faint bruising, there’s no doubt this is the work of a terrifying vampire.” “So then, I take it you’re retracting your earlier assertion that Scar Crab is the vampire?”

Inspector Ōeyama silently stared at Prosecutor Karagane’s face for a moment before leaning closer. “You’re absolutely right—if Shisen Senzai were a vampire, he wouldn’t have been killed like this.” “I believe the vampire must be someone else.” “So you retract your statement.—Then where is this real vampire hiding?” “Surely you’re not going to claim the vampire is the masked detective Blue Dragon King?” “Of course not.—To be frank, I first thought Shisen Senzai was undoubtedly the vampire, then suspected it might be Blue Dragon King—but both proved wrong.” “The only one left under suspicion is Nishi Ichiro, who claims to be the older brother of our first victim, Shiro…” At this point, the inspector abruptly fell silent and scanned their surroundings.

It was a truly bizarre sight, like a cave on a deserted island straight out of an adventure novel. “With this Pachino’s Cemetery and such popping up, I can’t make heads or tails of anything anymore.” “What on earth is all this about?”

There, Prosecutor Karagane recounted the fantastical tale of Pachino’s Cemetery as previously documented, concluding, “In other words, Pachino had received an emperor’s command to lead an expedition to Japan with vast treasures in tow—only to meet an untimely death before achieving his ambitions.” Inspector Ōeyama had doubted his own ears at the utterly bizarre tale of Pachino’s Cemetery, but seeing the skeletons and gold coins scattered at his feet, he could finally accept that it was real.

“Is this paltry scattering of gold coins and gemstones—mere dregs—what counts as the ‘vast fortune’ from that story?” Inspector Ōeyama said skeptically. “Exactly. Since my arrival, it’s been ransacked like this—clearly someone’s already moved the treasure elsewhere.” “That someone must be either a vampire or Scar Crab’s master—one or the other.”

“No! There’s still a prime suspect!” shouted Ōeyama.

“Who are you referring to, hmm?”

“That would be this cabaret’s owner, Otto Pontos. He’s the one behind it, I suppose.” “Don’t you think Pontos has been killed somewhere? There was blood flowing in that room once, wasn’t there?” “That’s right. But I’ve been thinking of something else since then. It has now become clear to me—isn’t it possible that Pontos faked his own death and absconded somewhere with this vast fortune instead? It’s a common trick used by villains.”

“That theory does exist, you know.”

Prosecutor Karagane said coldly. Inspector Ōeyama was gazing at Prosecutor Karagane’s seemingly opposing expression, but

“So Mr. Prosecutor, how did you come to know about this case? And then about the story of Pachino’s Cemetery you just mentioned…” When asked this, Prosecutor Karagane smirked slyly and said, “That’s because early this morning, the Blue Dragon King—who you thought was already dead—came to my residence and gave me a detailed account.” “What did you say? That Blue Dragon King…” Ōeyama wore an expression that could not believe Prosecutor Karagane’s words. The Blue Dragon King—that is, Shisen Senzai—isn’t he dead right there?

“That’s right,” said Prosecutor Karagane. “He apparently sneaked in here at twelve o’clock last night. Then he heard that dreaded whistle. Just as he thought ‘This won’t do,’ a terrible scream rang out. When he went to investigate, Shisen Senzai lay dead in his own clothes.” “Oh, Blue Dragon King!” Inspector Ōeyama exclaimed. “So this was a fake—the real one was still alive after all?” Having said this, Inspector Ōeyama let out a deep sigh.

At the Golf Course Inspector Ōeyama entrusted the remaining tasks to his subordinates and temporarily returned to headquarters, but upon hearing that the masked detective was still active, he couldn't remain still. What a terrifying opponent he was. He had broken through his subordinates' security lines one after another and infiltrated, then proceeded to briskly investigate the secrets of Pachino's Tomb—it was truly brilliant. It wasn't unreasonable, in a way, that Prosecutor Karagane trusted what he said.

“Formidable masked detective, eh?” Inspector Ōeyama now steeled himself with desperate resolve. If things continued like this, he would have no choice but to keep trailing in that man’s wake.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Inspector Ōeyama blurted out, involuntarily thumping the desk. “The first thing we must do is track down Pontos’ whereabouts. That bastard must either be a vampire or know about vampires. I’ll tear off that masked detective’s disguise eventually, but it won’t be too late to do so even after thoroughly making him spill everything about Pontos and Pachino’s Tomb.” Inspector Ōeyama staked his career on tracking down Pontos. He immediately formed a special investigation team, entrusted them with a secret strategy, and dispatched them. And gathering his courage, he visited the Blue Dragon King’s detective agency alone.—

“Blue Dragon King isn’t here, Mr. Inspector,” answered Isamu, the boy detective, without even feigning sympathy, his tone blunt. “Where did he say he was going when he left?”

“The Tamagawa area.” “He said he went to investigate the child born between the skeletal Pachino and a Japanese woman named Osumi.” “What did you say?” Inspector Ōeyama felt as if he had been suddenly struck by a brick. Just how far ahead had Blue Dragon King gotten in his investigation? Though I had mustered my courage, I realized there was simply no way I could compete with this. But maybe I could still make it in time. “Could that child be Pontos, don’t you think?”

“Pontos is a genuine Greek,” Isamu replied bluntly. “That guy came searching for Pachino’s Tomb and opened that cabaret without realizing it was built right over the cemetery.” “If it’s not Pontos, then who?” Ōeyama pressed. “Could it be Shisen Senzai?” “Shisen Senzai is Japanese,” the boy detective countered. “What Blue Dragon King’s after is a mixed-blood child.” Having learned that the detective had gone to Tamagawa to track down this mixed-blood child, Inspector Ōeyama felt as if he’d seized a critical advantage. With this lead, there would likely be no more uncertainties left to unravel.

Inspector Ōeyama sped his car toward Tamagawa. However, the Tamagawa area, while sparsely populated, was after all a vast expanse of land, leaving him at a loss as to where to begin his investigation. There, he thought of checking places where a mixed-blood child might appear, so he surveyed the row upon row of local attraction guides posted before the autumn-clear bus stop—and what caught his eye were the words “Tamagawa Golf Course.”

He thought a mixed-blood child at a golf course seemed somewhat out of place. He had been invited by Prosecutor Karagane and had taken up golf somewhat. In this autumn-clear weather, 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—not for nostalgia, but for this troublesome duty. It was all well and good that he had driven to Tamagawa Golf Course, but the moment he passed through the club’s entrance— “Well, well, Inspector Ōeyama. “What’s this sudden gust of wind blowing you in?”

Then came a tap on his back. Startled, he turned around to find Prosecutor Karagane standing there unexpectedly, wearing golf pants and grinning slyly. But that was not all. Behind the prosecutor stood a row of familiar faces that left him astonished—Professor Rōyama, Nishi Ichiro, Akaboshi Julia, and Yabashiri Chidori—making it seem like a gathering of everyone connected to the vampire incident. Only the crucial figures were missing: the masked detective Blue Dragon King and the cabaret owner Pontos, though it felt as if even they might emerge from somewhere at any moment.

“Perfect timing. Why don’t we play through the hole together?” Prosecutor Karagane suggested, grabbing his arm. “By all means, let’s do that—” Julia and the others urged.

In the end, Inspector Ōeyama joined their group. Having worn a suit spared him from embarrassment—a relief above all else. The first round was divided into two groups. When they played rock-paper-scissors, Group 1 ended up as Prosecutor Karagane, Professor Rōyama, and Yabashiri Chidori, while Group 2 became Ōeyama, Nishi Ichiro, and Akaboshi Julia.

First, Group 1 placed their balls on the tee and, one by one, swung their clubs to drive them out. Then, after a delay of about five minutes, Group 2 stepped up to the tee.

“I never dreamed I’d be partnering with you, Inspector.”

Julia laughed. "Inspector—let's agree not to mention that during the game, young lady."

“Oh my—Hohoho!”

Ōeyama became completely carefree. ―Julia took the first swing, followed by Ōeyama. When Nishi Ichiro took the last swing, the three of them, accompanied by their caddies, trudged across the green lawn toward where the balls had landed.

“I hadn’t expected to meet you all here.”

Inspector Ōeyama turned toward Ichiro and broke into a smile.

“It was Mr. Karagane’s invitation. It was perfect timing—Julia had been feeling down, so this worked out splendidly,” answered Ichiro. “Oh? Is the young lady feeling unwell somewhere?” “Oh, that’s not true—I’m perfectly fine, see?” she said, but her first shot yielded the worst result.

When she hit the ball at the second tee, Julia’s ball veered sideways, temporarily separating her from the two men.

“Hey, Mr. Nishi,” Inspector Ōeyama whispered earnestly to his companion, not in jest. “Aren’t there any mixed-blood children around here?”

“The closest mixed-blood child would be that one,” Ichiro said, pointing at Julia. “What, Julia?” he said, startled. “Now that you mention it, she does have something of a mixed-blood child about her… But what I’m asking is whether you know of any mixed-blood child around seventy years old living near Tamagawa.” “There’s no one like that here.” “Are you saying there aren’t any? You’re so delightfully blunt for someone who knows nothing…”

The self-satisfied inspector appeared to be in an unmistakably good mood.

However, as would later become clear, these conversations were no mere jokes. If Inspector Ōeyama had understood the grave significance they held now, he would not have been able to keep grinning so contentedly. Julia put her ball on the green and raised her hand toward the two men.

On the third course, the three of them came together again and proceeded to hit their balls. "You two seem quite close, but you still haven't asked me to officiate your wedding, huh?" said Inspector Ōeyama, his mood growing even brighter.

“Please stop that. You’ll damage Julia’s reputation,” Ichiro objected, while Julia— “Oh my, I would absolutely love to ask you, Inspector. But Mr. Ichiro... he hates me. After all, I’m all alone, destined to plunge into hell—” Julia said hysterically, pressing her handkerchief to her nose. Her swings grew increasingly erratic. In this manner, the results after completing the course were as follows: Ōeyama far outperformed the others; Professor Rōyama and Yabashiri Chidori scored moderately but significantly lower; Prosecutor Karagane and Nishi Ichiro likewise failed to improve; and as for Julia, she turned in a disastrously poor performance.

“Oh! This is a horrifying scorecard. This is truly horrifying.” Prosecutor Karagane shook his head and looked at Ichiro’s face.

“Truly, even I’m astonished at how dreadfully I managed to hit them.” Inspector Ōeyama, mistakenly assuming they were talking about him, grew visibly uncomfortable.

“If I had the time, I’d like to play more rounds, but…” Prosecutor Karagane had said, and Ōeyama—who had delivered an astonishing performance—was in perfect agreement. However, considering Julia and the others’ performance schedule and the lack of time, they decided to stop. Instead, Prosecutor Karagane and Inspector Ōeyama went out to the practice area to fiercely hit balls. Julia and Chidori went out to the fountain bath at the back of the clubhouse during that time.

Professor Rōyama 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 groups. Inspector Ōeyama swung his club in the deserted practice area while speaking to Karagane. “Prosecutor. I wonder where the true purpose of today’s gathering lies,” he asked, finally posing the question he had wanted to ask earlier.

“Hmm…” Karagane halted his backswing. “I don’t fully understand it myself, but this is the Blue Dragon King’s request.”

“What?! The Blue Dragon King’s request?” Inspector Ōeyama turned pale in an instant. “He wanted to know the results of the game. “For now, I wonder how he’ll explain your spectacular performance.” “Ha ha ha!” There was a story I’d heard about a famous foreign detective who gathered suspects to play cards and judged them by their performance—could Blue Dragon King be employing a similar tactic? In any case, Inspector Ōeyama grew despondent, and his shots suddenly lost their distance.

“Prosecutor. I hear that while the Blue Dragon King has you all playing golf, he himself is searching for Pachino’s family here in Tamagawa. Are you aware of this?” “That might be the case, huh.” “Then you know where the Blue Dragon King is, sir? I need to meet him urgently. Please tell me.” “Tell you? Why don’t you go meet him yourself?”

The prosecutor gave a strange reply. The inspector, thinking he had offended the prosecutor, fell silent thereafter.

It was exactly at that moment.

Suddenly, a commotion of people standing and clamoring could be heard from the direction of the clubhouse. When Inspector Ōeyama turned around, the clubhouse attendant shouted loudly.

“Everyone! Please come quickly!” “The lady’s being attacked!” The lady?—The prosecutor and inspector threw down their clubs and rushed to the clubhouse.

The Assaulted Nude Woman

The location where this sudden incident occurred was within the clubhouse, specifically where the fountain bath was situated.

About thirty minutes earlier, two of the women’s baths had been reserved. Of course, that was so Akaboshi Julia and Yabashiri Chidori could wash their sweat-drenched bodies in the spray. At that time, no one besides the two of them had reserved this spacious bathhouse. Julia rented Bath No. 4, and Chidori took the adjacent Bath No. 5. The bathroom was structured like two public telephone booths placed side by side; in the partitioned area near the entrance, they would undress, and upon proceeding further inside, there was a washing area lined with white tiles, where turning the faucet would send warm water cascading down from the ceiling with a whoosh. For the women, there were transparent bags made of cellophane; if they pulled these over their heads from above, their hair could stay dry without getting wet from the water.

The two women took off their kimonos with a rustling sound.

“Sister,” Chidori called out from the adjacent room.

“What is it, Chii-chan?” “I’m scared.” “It’s just too quiet here.” “Silly girl.” “Isn’t the quiet pleasant?”

Having said that, Julia went further inside and bathed her pure white nude body under the white fountain with a whoosh.

“Um… Sister,” Chidori called out, rapping lightly on the wooden partition between them. “When you stay quiet like this… Sister… It makes me feel so alone and scared.” “Am I not supposed to come over to your side, Sister?”

“Oh, don’t be silly. “Hurry up and wash already.—That’s right—something wonderful will happen.” “Well then, I’ll sing a song for you here.” “You’re such a handful, aren’t you?” With that, Julia let out a beautiful whistle for Chidori’s sake. The song was none other than her signature piece, “Red Strawberry Fruit.”

Perhaps emboldened by this, Chidori stopped making a fuss and twisted the faucet with a whoosh, beginning to wash her slender, outstretched limbs. It was unclear how many minutes had passed since then, but from within this fountain bathhouse, a startling young woman’s scream suddenly rang out. It seemed like one person's scream—yet also seemed like two. And then—with a sudden clang like shattering glass—everyone in the clubhouse now clearly realized something was wrong.

Although it was usually a women’s bathhouse strictly off-limits to men, they came rushing in through the entrance without regard for who they were.

“What happened?!”

The first to enter was Ōsugi, the club manager. But from within came not a single sound of response.

He swiftly opened Bath 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 with a powerful whoosh. He immediately rushed out from there and burst into the next Bath No.5. There, Chidori’s garish clothes lay scattered across the floor like strewn flower petals. There must have been a struggle. The manager, his heart racing, swiftly opened the inner partition there.

“Agh!”

As soon as he shouted this, he hurriedly closed the partition. He saw something too horrifying to behold. There lay Julia, not a single thread clinging to her, collapsed on the tiles in an indecent pose like a marble-carved reclining statue. “Hey, move back! Move back!”

A loud voice came from behind. Prosecutor Karagane and Investigation Chief Ooeyama had entered. They stopped the fountain and lifted Julia up, and she finally regained consciousness from her faint. “What happened? And Chidori-san…” “And Chidori-san…” “Ah, Chii-chan…” Julia raised her pale arm to her head as if pondering something, but “Someone… took…” she said, pointing toward the entrance—then her head dropped heavily. Julia had lost consciousness once again.

“What? Are you saying Chidori-san was kidnapped?”

The Chief entrusted Julia to the Prosecutor and rushed out of the bathhouse.

When he looked, the front window had been slid open upward, and moreover, its glass was broken. That terrible noise from earlier had been this. The suspicious figure must have taken Chidori and fled from here.

He nimbly leaped over the window and went outside. He looked around, but beyond the club’s enclosure lay nothing but a boundless expanse of grassland—the suspicious figure was nowhere to be seen. The only thing that caught his eye was a billowing cloud of sand and dust moving far off in the distance.

“Ah! That’s it—they fled by car!” When he went around to the entrance, he unexpectedly encountered the driver he had brought there.

“Chief! The car’s been stolen!” the driver turned pale and said.

There wasn't a single car left behind. So even as they watched helplessly while the suspicious figure fled into the distance with the naked Yabashiri Chidori still in the vehicle, they had no means of pursuit.

"Right, I'll make the call." The chief who rushed into the office—fuming at the sluggish rural telephone line—nevertheless finally managed to contact the police station, arranging for the impoundment of vehicles while also urgently requesting that a car be dispatched to the golf course. And he walked over to where the prosecutor was waiting.

Julia was laid down on a makeshift bed in the office. At her bedside, Professor Rōyama, MD—though this lay outside his specialty of forensic medicine—was tending to her every need. Prosecutor Karagane stood with his arms folded, deep in thought, but upon seeing the chief enter, “Was Miss Yabashiri found?” he asked. The chief gave a full report and lamented having lost track.

“Did Ms. Julia say anything?” In response to the Chief’s question, the Prosecutor gave a summarized account. According to Julia’s account, while bathing under the fountain, she heard Chidori let out an extraordinary scream from the adjacent room. Startled, she rushed in to find—having entered from who knows where—a suspicious man assaulting Chidori. When she grabbed him from behind, he immediately threw her down, causing her to lose consciousness. When she came to, she found herself lying in such a place, she said.

“Does she have any memory of that suspicious man’s face or clothing?”

“It all happened too suddenly—she says she couldn’t make out anything. Because she grabbed him from behind, she says she couldn’t see his face.” At that moment, Julia opened her eyes wide—now that she was alright—and said she wanted to return to make it back in time for her performance at Ryūgū Theater. She asked them to call Nishi Ichiro. “Ah, Nishi Ichiro. Where did he go?” “Ichiro-kun isn’t here…”

While they were harboring suspicions, the door opened, and he slipped in abruptly. “Hey, you—where were you during all this commotion?”

The Chief glared sharply.

"I just stepped outside and was looking at the vegetable fields. City folks wouldn't get to see where vegetables grow unless it's a time like this," he said, though it somehow sounded like a contrived excuse. When Julia heard Nishi's voice, she became even more insistent on returning. As a result, it was decided that the Prosecutor would accompany Nishi back while Chief Ooeyama and Professor Rōyama remained behind. With a police-dispatched car having just arrived, the three were able to depart for Tokyo immediately.

"That Nishi fellow is a shady character," Professor Rōyama declared, shaking his head emphatically from side to side. "Surely Nishi Ichiro couldn't have attacked Chidori..." Chief Ooeyama muttered under his breath. "It's impossible to say—" As these words hung in the air, Ooeyama's missing car came roaring back with a prolonged blast of its horn. The Chief bolted toward the entrance in alarm—only to find his own driver's perplexed face emerging from within.

“The car was there. I saw what looked like a car roof in a field about two hundred meters ahead, so I went to check. Then, to my astonishment, it had been abandoned there.” “Hmm.”

Ooeyama groaned. Whose doing was this? Was it Nishi Ichiro’s doing? Did that Pontos fellow appear? Or was it the work of the masked detective who was supposed to be prowling the area?

Meanwhile, whether Yabashiri Chidori had fled to the heavens or burrowed into the earth, no word of her whereabouts reached anyone.

But Yabashiri Chidori was alive and unharmed. She lay on a bed in the isolation ward of a certain hospital overlooking the Tama River below, receiving the hospital director's devoted care.

“You’re going to be alright now.” “If you rest quietly, you’ll recover in two or three days.” “You have no wounds anywhere on your body.” “However, due to the severe shock, your heart has been slightly weakened.” “It’s best not to get too excited.”

“I’d like to meet someone.”

“Well, that’s only natural. Before long, someone will likely come to see you.”

As such conversations continued, the night grew late.

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

“Oh, Mr. Nishi… You actually came.”

Nishi simply smiled.

“Because no one came to see me, I was grieving.” “I was requested by the Blue Dragon King to come here. “No one else will likely visit for some time. “You mustn’t step down from your bed even once until the Director grants permission.” “Yes, if it’s something you tell me to do, I’ll obey anything. “…Mr. Nishi.”

“What is it, Ms. Chidori?” “I… how grateful I am to you, you know. Do you understand…” “Gratitude? — I haven’t done anything.” “Ah, you mean being saved?” “In that case, please direct your gratitude to the Blue Dragon King.” “...No, dwelling on such things now would harm your health.” “You must forget everything for the time being.” “Even if someone hears you, you must not speak a word.” “Ms. Chidori, for now, you must become a living corpse—do you understand?”

“A living corpse—if it’s what you command, then I’ve already become one.”

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

The Masked Detective’s Peril

A day had passed since the kidnapping of Yabashiri Chidori, with no leads to speak of.

Prosecutor Karagane summoned Investigation Chief Ooeyama to a room at the prosecutor’s office regarding the matter. “I must say, I’m growing ever more appreciative of your negligence. “We’ve truly become record-shattering celebrities in the society pages now!” “What progress on the Chidori disappearance?” “If it’s within a ten-minute radius of Tamagawa Golf Course, even a door-to-door search would yield a limited number of suspects—surely you agree?” “Why can’t they solve it? Pretending not to know must require more effort than actually solving it…”

“Well, strangely enough, we simply can’t figure it out. Perhaps the culprit moved Chidori to a more distant location during the night. But please rest assured—we’ve concluded that the culprit and the vampire are one and the same, and we’re pursuing the perpetrator through separate channels.” “When you say ‘separate channels,’ exactly who is this culprit you’re investigating?”

“Pontos—that is to say, the missing owner of the cabaret.” “My men are searching as hard as they can.” “I’ll make sure we find him by today or tomorrow at the latest.” “That bastard’s already dead, isn’t he?” “It’s acceptable even if he’s dead.” “The secret Pontos holds is the final key to solving the vampire incidents involving the terrifying whistle.” “Well, well,” said Prosecutor Karagane, widening his eyes, “then have the decency to report the truth of this case before I hang myself.”

Shortly after Ooeyama returned, a call came from the masked detective.

“Mr. Karagane. The time has finally come to identify the culprit.”

“Well, well.” “Oh, this is quite the development!” “You must not confuse the issue.” “So there’s one thing I’d like to ask of you…”

“If this is a discussion about letting the criminal escape abroad, I refuse right now.” “That is not the case. In fact tonight, I have indeed received a meeting request from a mysterious figure believed to be a vampire.” “Hmm, that’s most convenient. Then shall I lend you about a hundred Shinsengumi members?”

“No, they’ve requested that I meet them alone.” “Trample those selfish terms!” “That won’t do.—I’ll go alone as planned. But if I haven’t called you by nine tonight, read the letter in your bottom drawer.” “What? There’s a letter inside?” Sure enough, a white square envelope lay in the drawer—someone had slipped it in unnoticed. “Here it is!” “This can be opened right now, can’t it?”

“Opening it now won’t work.” “There’s a mechanism installed—the writing won’t show up until nine tonight.” “Even if you check now, it’s blank.”

The moment Prosecutor Karagane tsked in frustration, the receiver on the other end clattered down.

That evening, just at twilight, in a ninth-floor room of a derelict nine-story building in Marunouchi—known as the Monster Building—an unprecedented, bizarre meeting was taking place.

First, in the center of that desolate room stood a one-legged table with a bent leg, and across it faced two figures. The figure farthest from the entrance was none other than the masked detective Blue Dragon King, but he remained seated in a chair, his body bound tightly to it with thick hemp rope. The figure opposite him stood across the table, completely shrouded from head to toe in black cloth. In their right hand they gripped a sharp, thin-bladed knife, poised as if ready to lunge at any moment. —This was the meeting between Blue Dragon King and the vampire that had been reported to Prosecutor Karagane. Then, the figure shrouded in black cloth must be the fearsome vampire murderer.

“You’re surprisingly dim-witted for a man—” said the figure in black cloth in a raspy, withered voice. Though raspy and withered, the voice was unmistakably a woman’s.

“...” Blue Dragon King remained silent and motionless as stone. “If you’re tied to a chair like that, whether I let you live or kill you is entirely my choice.” “With this dagger, I can plunge it into your heart—or if you prefer, slice off each of your fingers one by one.” “If you’re terrified of suffering, I could mercifully plunge this syringe here full of morphine into you,” she said with venomous relish. “Breaking your promise—how cowardly of you,” Blue Dragon King spoke for the first time.

“You’re a fool. —I kill everyone who learns my true identity.” “You should be grateful I’ve helped you until now.” “But today of all days—I won’t let you leave alive!” she said in a voice like a stage witch. Then, brandishing the dagger, she crept steadily toward Blue Dragon King.

“Wait, I beg you. You may kill me whenever you wish. But first, let me keep my promise. You see, there’s something I must tell you.” “You have something to say? If so, I’ll hear it as my final gift. But you have only five minutes. Speak quickly—” “I’ve shielded you quite diligently until now. You must be fully aware of this. It was you who recently attacked Yabashiri Chidori at Tamagawa. I intervened and let you escape. Because of that, you avoided adding another instance to your sins of bloodsucking. No—not merely one instance. I’ve obstructed you five times now, preventing you from committing those vampiric crimes. All to somehow save you from this accursed bloodsickness...”

“What are you saying?” “So… all those times interference appeared—it was all your doing, then?”

With that, the demon clenched a fist and struck Blue Dragon King repeatedly. The detective clenched his teeth and endured. “It was solely to make you repent that I even took you and escaped from Pachino’s Tomb.” Ah—so the vampire was none other than… “Silence!” The demon struck the detective’s chest once more. The detective groaned, “Ugh,” and writhed in agony. “I had known your true identity from much earlier on.” “Do recall.” “Do you remember what you were desperately searching for when you killed young Shiro?” “If that had become known to the authorities, you would have been immediately arrested as a murderer.” “I returned it to you through Nishi Ichiro’s hands.”

“Don’t spout such nonsense.” “I know nothing about that.—Now, only one minute remains.” “Can’t you see I’ve surrendered myself to your mercy solely to make you repent?” “Spare me the sentimentality. “How undignified.”

“Ah… So in the end, my strength wasn’t enough?” “……Then I will give up everything and let myself be killed.” “But there’s just one last thing I must ask.” “Why did you come to know the taste of bloodsucking?” “What transformed you into such a terrifying vampire?” “In that case, I’ll grant you this knowledge as a parting gift for the afterlife.” “It’s an inheritance passed down from my ancestors.” “You know of Pachino, do you not?” “When nine of his men perished, he drained every last one of them of their blood.” “I read this in his final testament…… Ah… Had I never obtained that document, I might have escaped becoming a vampire.” “A dreadful fate indeed.”

“I see… So the vampirism Pachino inherited from his ancestors has finally reached you—his great-grandchild—” “Silence!—” The demon raised her foot and delivered a thudding kick to Blue Dragon King’s flank.

“Ugh”

With a groan, he collapsed on the spot.

“Ah—do you think I can endure any more of your vile insults?” “I’m not some indulgent fool who’d let you prattle past the promised five minutes.” “You’ve really gone and interfered with me, haven’t you?” she spat hatefully, raising her fist. “Now—after all this time—I’ll finally get to gulp down that tepid red blood from your throat!”

No sooner had she spoken than the demonic woman placed her hands on the black cloth draped over her head and cast it off in one swift motion. Then, to their astonishment, what appeared from beneath was not a gray-haired old woman as one might expect, but utterly unexpectedly—it was a young Western-dressed woman with golden hair combed to perfection. Her face—unfortunately turned sideways—was difficult to make out clearly! The hand of the enchantress, like a poisonous flower, moved, and what glinted in the twilight air must have been the thin-bladed knife she had raised. The sharp blade now seemed poised to strike the unfortunate Blue Dragon King’s chest—but then, as if struck by a sudden thought, the enchantress forcefully stretched out her free left hand and grasped his mask.

“That’s right. “At your final moment, I’ll grant you the favor of seeing the face beneath 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 surprisingly young man. His eyes were closed weakly, yet his features were far too handsome!

“Ah… You… are Nishi Ichiro!” The one who had cried out was the same enchantress, but in that critical moment, it was not an assumed voice—it was her natural voice, clear and youthful like a jewel. Ah—the detective’s mask had finally been removed. The true identity of Blue Dragon King, the renowned detective who now enjoyed absolute trust throughout the capital, was none other than the fair-faced young man Nishi Ichiro. And the young Shiro, slain by the vampire, was none other than his beloved younger brother—his own flesh and blood!

“Ah… I…” The enchantress’s chest trembled violently like a great tidal wave. She was utterly overwhelmed by the unexpected shock, left completely at a loss.

“After all, I’ll stab you to death!”

With that shout, the enchantress raised the sharp knife again—but soon her arm lowered powerlessly. "How could I kill you? My fate is sealed!"

Having spoken thus, the enchantress approached Blue Dragon King and tore the binding rope to shreds. But Blue Dragon King did not even notice that his mask had been removed.—The enchantress had already vanished from the ruined room.

Thus, Blue Dragon King’s life—which had been as precarious as a candle in the wind—was saved just one step from death.

Grand Finale, Dance of Death

“—Prosecutor!” “Where did you go, Mr. Karagane?”

Rushing into the night duty room of the Prosecutor’s Office was Detective Ooeyama. “Oh—what’s happened, Detective Ooeyama?” The prosecutor stopped reading and lifted his face from behind the large desk.

“Ah—so that’s where you were.” “Rejoice!” “I’ve finally tracked down Pontos!” “And—this marks the grand finale!”

“Did you capture Pontos alive?” “No—just as you said, Pontos was already dead.” “It was indeed inside Cabaret Étoile.” “He had been confined within a double wall that was somewhat hard to notice.”

“Well, well, you managed to pull that off.” “Pontos left us a remarkable keepsake.” “It’s a dying message 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.” “The vampire is out there.—Now, here’s a copy of the dying message left on the wall.” “The vampire’s name is clearly written here as well.”

Having said that, Ooeyama spread out a rather unsightly sheet of paper. The Prosecutor spread it out on the desk and read it aloud calmly. “Well, well—” he exclaimed in admiration, “according to this, the vampire is Akaboshi Julia, the great-granddaughter of Pachino. Ah, so the Prima Donna of the Ryūgū Theater, Akaboshi Julia, was the mastermind behind those horrific crimes!”

The prosecutor stared off into empty space with a pained expression.

“So the Julia I played golf with at Tamagawa yesterday was the one…”

At that, the chief exclaimed impatiently.

“The owner of the cabaret, Otto Pontos, witnessed Julia’s murder during that night’s tragedy at the cabaret—that was his undoing, you see.” “Julia took advantage of the night’s darkness to attack Pontos in his bedroom—first striking him with a knife, then playing that record of *Red Strawberry Fruit*.” “Pontos was forced to listen to Julia’s solo singing as she sucked his blood from the neck.” “Then he was thrown into the secret wall, but since that giant’s body still retained a considerable amount of blood, he remained alive for a while—or so it’s said, you see.”

The prosecutor nodded silently.

“Then I’d like to proceed with the arrest now…” said Detective Ooeyama. “Very well—but what time is it now…” “It’s three minutes to nine PM.” “I see. Then please wait three more minutes, for there is a phone call I am awaiting.”

Detective Ooeyama endured an agonizing wait unlike any he had experienced before or since.—Bong, bong—the clock announcing nine o'clock began tolling from a distant room. "The call never came—" the prosecutor groaned in a low voice. "Then it is time to open the unfortunate man's letter." With that, he took out a white square envelope from the desk drawer and tore it open. From inside, he extracted a letter folded into four parts and spread it out. There, in pale reddish-brown ink,

“Akaboshi Julia!”

the characters "Akaboshi Julia!" stood out.

“Who wrote that?” Detective Ooeyama inquired curiously. “This is the solution Blue Dragon King entrusted to us,” replied Prosecutor Karagane. “It matches your findings perfectly. I hold equal respect for both you and Blue Dragon King!” With these words, the prosecutor firmly grasped the detective’s hand. “Then what became of Blue Dragon King?” As Ooeyama pressed with suspicion in his voice, Karagane succinctly recounted the entire sequence of events, explaining how Blue Dragon King’s phone call should have arrived by nine o’clock.

“Then Blue Dragon King might have fallen victim to the vampire after all, don’t you think? In that case, this is no time for hesitation. Please let us storm in immediately.” “Hmm… Then I shall accompany you as well.”

With that, Prosecutor Karagane rose from his chair. The prosecutor solidified his grave resolution and roused himself. —And to Marunouchi’s Ryūgū Theater—.

As the procession of automobiles turned the corner at Hibiya, Ryūgū Theater came into view directly ahead. True to its name, this grand palace of pleasure—bathed in a hundred blazing lights and rising castle-like amidst night’s veil—stood with such magnificence that one could hardly believe it concealed the abhorrent nest of a vampire. Upon its magnificently tall white circular walls hung numerous crimson banners boldly emblazoned with declarations in vivid characters: “The Legendary Dancer Akaboshi Julia and Her Troupe” and “Grand Seventeen-Week Run—Red Strawberry Fruit!”

Ah, truly the legendary demonic enchantress Julia!

Under Detective Ooeyama’s command, an orderly security net was deployed. In this situation, no matter how fearsome a demon god it might be, it was now like a rat trapped in a sack.

“Is Akaboshi Julia actually here?”

“Is Akaboshi Julia actually here?” Prosecutor Karagane asked the Ginza Police Chief stationed at the entrance. “Well… She seems a bit unwell, but she’s properly on stage.” “She shows no sign of attempting to flee at all.”

“I see… Hmm…” The prosecutor let out a deep sigh. And secretly, through a peephole, he stared intently at the stage. Indeed, beyond the tightly packed seats, the familiar resplendent stage scene of *Red Strawberry Fruit* was unfolding. Through the gap in the door,

*My dearest*

*Red Strawberry Fruit* *Where does it lie?* *Now——* “I want it, but……”

A singing voice as rich as aged wine resounded through the air. —Julia was indeed there. At the center of a dancing troupe with matching physiques, she moved in perfect sync with their rapid steps. “Shall we have the curtain closed?” “And storm in from backstage all at once…?”

“Hmm—” Prosecutor Karagane did not take his eyes from the peephole.

“Mr. Prosecutor. If we don’t act quickly, I can’t guarantee Blue Dragon King’s life.—”

Detective Ooeyama, too, cast aside his usual competitive mindset and grew concerned for the masked detective’s well-being.

“Hmm. “It won’t be much longer now. “Let’s wait until the epilogue, shall we? “—And as for Blue Dragon King… Well, he should be fine.” The prosecutor now completely changed his earlier stance and began to voice optimism.

There was a reason for that. —Now, on the stage, to the right of Akaboshi Julia, the actor in a tailcoat performing a light tap dance was unmistakably Nishi Ichiro. In other words, Blue Dragon King—now unmasked—was hopping around the stage with great cheer, as if nothing had happened. It was precisely because Prosecutor Karagane had known this all along that he had supported Blue Dragon King. But Blue Dragon King was not dancing as joyfully as he appeared to those watching. If one were to truly cut open his chest, they would find nine agonies barely held together by the strength of a single will. He had already perceived from the stage that a security net had been deployed. Moreover, on the stage, Akaboshi Julia staked her desperate hopes on a time even more fleeting than a mayfly’s lifespan, wishing to somehow purify—through this single moment of stage artistry—the dreadful sins she could not save herself from, no matter how she tried to be saved. One was judicial power akin to a great deluge; the other was a soul as fragile as a feather crafted from glass—sandwiched between these two, Blue Dragon King’s state of mind was truly agonizing.

I want to somehow let her give her all in this final performance!

he thought.

But Julia’s performance had now lost its brilliance so plainly that anyone could see it.

“Something’s off. Doesn’t Julia look like she’s about to collapse?”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing myself since earlier.” “What’s wrong with her?” “Julia must be tired.” “Julia, what’s wrong?!”

A brash voice rang out from the third-floor seats.

Perhaps hearing this, Julia jerked her head up, but the area around her neck grew strikingly gaunt in mere moments. “Julia, go home and get some sleep!”

Then, a raucous voice resounded from the second floor. Julia, her face having drooped powerlessly downward before she knew it, jerked it back up again. She audibly gritted her teeth. But—the large, pure white fan made of ostrich feathers in her right hand quivered as it hid her face, now filled with utmost anguish.

*Winter trees of farewell* *Give me your relics—* *Your heart* *Yes—* *I am a vampire...*

*I am a vampire…*

As if drawn by the chorus, the feathered fan that had been hiding Julia’s face twitched spasmodically in midair. —There, as though fractured along a fault line, the musical piece transformed into a vampire dance of unrestrained and supremely bewitching allure—within this performance, it became the grandest dance of all: the most eerily resplendent and bewitchingly valiant spectacle. Given Julia’s lethargy tonight, one might have expected her to collapse onto the stage right then and there without a moment’s pause—but what a surprise! How utterly strange! She danced wildly across the stage with renewed vigor, as though reborn.

Whoooa! A cheer—no, a roaring ovation—arose from the first-floor seats, the second-floor seats, the third-floor seats, and the fourth-floor seats: a whirlwind of emotion so intense it seemed it might shake loose even the great ceiling with its glittering chandelier.

“Julia! World’s greatest Julia!”

“Our prima donna, Julia!” “Kill me, Julia!”

“A million-dollar actress!” And then—amidst the cacophonous uproar that followed, both the chorus and orchestra were completely drowned out. It was truly an unprecedented ovation, an unprecedented frenzy.—What had revived Julia so vigorously?

Isamu, the boy detective in the front row, grabbed Otsuji’s arm beside him and shouted.

“Oh no, this is bad! Look at that! Bright red blood is scattering from the white ostrich-feather fan!” “Ah!—This is terrible. Look! Blood’s dripping down from Julia’s costume like that!” However, the others, intoxicated in the whirlpool of excitement, had not a single person among them who noticed such a thing. With a roaring uproar, it was a commotion just like a bullring. At the peak of that storm-like ovation, our songstress Akaboshi Julia collapsed on the stage with a thud, reduced to a faint whisper of life. Without a moment’s delay, thanks to the stage manager’s quick thinking, the grand main curtain descended swiftly and smoothly. That was Julia’s final performance.

Nishi Ichiro, the Blue Dragon King, rushed over before anyone else and scooped Julia up. “Julia. What’s wrong? Pull yourself together, Julia.”

Julia was completely unconscious.

“Someone call a doctor, quick…”

After issuing an order to no one in particular, the Blue Dragon King lifted Julia up 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 lightly 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 they discovered the wound on her right upper arm—a ragged gash that looked as though it had been bitten through, from which vivid blood now sprayed forth. The wound was immediately bound, but it did nothing to aid her grievous injury.

A nearby doctor rushed in with a nurse and immediately began examining her, but afterward, the doctor shook his head irritably and refused to utter a single word. “Ms. Julia. “Do you recognize me?” “It’s me—Ichiro.” With that, the Blue Dragon King 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 uttered this much than her chest suddenly heaved violently, and she drew her last breath. “Ah, what a tragic turn of events. She has already passed away.” The doctor released the wrist he had been holding to check her pulse, turned toward Julia’s remains, and bowed respectfully. Prosecutor Karigane and Chief Detective Ooeyama, who had been keeping a respectful distance from Julia’s body until now, exchanged a glance at this moment, then quietly stepped toward her bedside and prayed for Julia’s peaceful repose.

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

The two men gave a slight nod.

“That magnificent dance that adorned her finale—Julia performed it after sucking me dry of my blood, using that very vigor to dance. “Until this very day…she likely never imagined she’d attempt to suck her own blood…” With this, Ichiro swallowed his tears darkly. Then he rummaged through his coat pocket, produced a matching mask from the set, and gently laid it beside Julia’s pillow.—Seeing this, Ooeyama appeared to realize something for the first time, gasping as he fixed Ichiro with a piercing glare.

“With Julia’s death, the masked detective has also perished. “I’ve grown weary of being a detective.” So saying, Ichiro—no longer the Blue Dragon King—discarded his exceptional skills without a hint of reluctance. Julia’s remains were swiftly buried under bouquets of white lilies, carnations, and marguerites brought from who knows where by the dancers who had been close to her.

＊　　　＊　　　＊

Ichiro did not forget to convey to Yabashiri Chidori the apology that Julia had requested on her deathbed. And, just as Julia had wished, he married Chidori. The relationship between the two was exceedingly harmonious. “You (—and even now, Ichiro still addressed his beloved wife this way—) probably hadn’t realized until Ms. Julia’s death that the Blue Dragon King and Ichiro were the same person.” “My, aren’t you full of yourself.” “The fact that Ichiro-san is the Blue Dragon King—I’ve known since that time you carried me completely naked from the golf course bathhouse to my uncle’s hospital.” “Huh, is that so?” “Don’t just say ‘Huh, is that so?’! I slightly opened my eyes in the car back then. Your mask was perfect, but I saw the tie peeking out from underneath—the same one you always wear. That’s when I figured it out.” “I see... Well then, while I may have failed there, I consider it a great success that I married a wife who’s even more clever than this master detective. Ha ha ha!”

“Oh, so that’s how it was?” “Oh, is that so?—That’s not it. At that time in the car, I cracked my eyes open just a slit. Your mask was perfect, but the necktie peeking out from under it was the same as Ichiro-san’s. So that’s when I thought, ‘Aha!’”

“I see... That was quite the blunder… But making this famous detective—who’s one step ahead of me—my wife must count as an absolute triumph! Ha! Ha! Ha!”