Pathway to Japanese Literature

Boy detective Sankichi Miura

The long-continued rain finally ceased, and for the first time in half a month, the sky cleared crisply.
As soon as the sky cleared, the sunlight blazed down with scorching heat.

This was the Tokyo Marunouchi office of renowned private investigator Mr. Soroku Homura.

The boy detective Sankichi Miura had just returned from his outing, covered in sweat.
He abruptly stripped off his coat and shirt, then vigorously scrubbed his back and chest with a dry towel.
When that was done, he opened the mouth of a chillily dewy one-shō bottle—where had he brought it from?—and poured its contents into a glass.
Ice-cold barley tea!
Gulp gulp—it passed through his throat and seeped all the way to his intestines.

“Ah, feels great!”

And Sankichi the boy patted his chest and muttered to himself.
At that moment, when he looked up at the ceiling, he noticed the eyes of the carved cat in the transom glittering blue as though alive.

“Huh?!”

The boy let out a cry of surprise.

"A strange case?"

Sankichi set down the glass, then felt under the table and firmly pressed a button.
Then, the shade of the ceiling-embedded light descended soundlessly and smoothly.

But the shade stopped abruptly about one meter above the floor.

Looking up, a thick metal cylinder descended from the hole where the shade had been.
The shade was attached to the tip of that cylinder.
The cylinder had two holes.
Sankichi pressed his eye to the hole.
And then he took the yo-yo-sized receiver attached to the side of the cylinder and pressed it to his left ear.
Voices could be heard.

“Then please do so by tomorrow.”

“I’ve got this. Though unworthy, when I, Otsuji, open these big eyes wide, I can see clear through to the very bowels of Mount Fuji! While Soroku Homura’s away, there’s practically no one who can stand against this Otsuji!”

The boy chuckled softly, hung up the receiver, and with a light touch to the cylinder, the machine abruptly sprang into motion, smoothly retracting into the ceiling until only the lampshade remained as before.

Then the side door opened, and a man dressed in Western clothes who looked like a diminutive sumo wrestler entered. They were bulging, intense eyes!

Subterranean Locomotive

"Sankichi! We've got a major case!"
"I'll put you to work."

And the bulging-eyed man abruptly declared.

“You were really putting on airs back there, Old Man Otsuji!”

Sankichi the boy pointed at the ceiling and laughed. What had descended from the ceiling was a pair of periscope-like glasses peering into the office’s reception room and a telephone that picked up conversations. It was a mechanism where the carved cat’s eyes glowed blue whenever a guest arrived.

“You little... you little...” The bulging-eyed Old Man Otsuji, acting quite unlike an elder, made as if to choke Sankichi’s neck. “But he came to request a major case. The president of Ōtokyo Warehouse in Shibaura came. Yesterday evening, while a daruma boat loaded with cargo from offshore was making its way toward the pier, it began sinking midway with a bubbling gurgle. Since it was valuable cargo, they sent divers down early this morning—and sure enough, the ship was lying properly sunk on the seabed. But while investigating, they discovered something extraordinary.”

“Interesting,” said Sankichi the boy, clapping his hands.

“What’s so interesting about that?!” he said, bulging his eyes. “Part of the cargo’s gone missing! And the most urgent and important cargo at that!”

“What’s this ‘cargo’ you’re talking about?”

“It’s the German-made digging machine purchased by the subway company. It’s what they call a subterranean locomotive. A heavy three-ton machine has completely vanished!”

How utterly bizarre!

Blustering Detective Matayemon Otsuji

“The subterranean locomotive is an incredibly high-speed digging machine, said to be the only one in existence today."
“After all, even the German factory that made it can’t produce another one now.”

“Why?” asked Sankichi the boy.

“Because the engineer who built it died suddenly,” declared Old Man Otsuji, rotating his trademark bulging eyes vigorously. “The subway soil’s turning blue.”
“They’re demanding we find it immediately.”
“That’s why they came to consult me.”
“Heh heh heh!”

“You’re really laying it on thick.”
“They came to ask Dr. Manabe, you realize.”
“Who’d approach someone like Old Man Otsuji…”

“However, heh heh heh!”
“—Dr. Manabe’s currently away in France.”
“The Doctor can’t possibly handle this himself, can he?”
“In which case, wouldn’t the only solution be for the distinguished second-ranked great detective Matayemon Otsuji to take charge?”
“Meaning they’ve effectively requested my services.”
*Ahem!*

Old Man Otsuji struck a general-like pose there, but upon spotting the barley tea bottle on the table, his face immediately slackened. He pulled it close, sent ripples across his horse-like belly, and gulped down every last drop.

“Ah, delicious! The well here must be deep—it’s really chilled!”

Sankichi seemed not to hear any of this, bitterly lamenting how inopportune it was that the renowned detective Homura was away on overseas business.

Phantom Thief “Rock”

“I hear Rock’s returning.”

The speaker was none other than His Excellency Chiba Yakumo, Superintendent General of the Metropolitan Police.

“What... Rock, sir?”

It was Superintendent Ōeyama who sprang up from his chair as if propelled by a coil.
It wasn’t unreasonable for him to be so shocked.
Rock was a fearsome gentleman burglar said to be invincible.
He had been an engineer working at a large machine factory in the downtown area but had at some point turned to making his living through burglary.
Because he was intelligent, he carried out his plans flawlessly, and by misusing his expert mechanical knowledge, he committed a series of horrifying new crimes that made one’s hair stand on end.
It was Rock—the same Rock who had escaped prison three years prior and vanished without a trace, the same Rock who had been rumored dead—but…

“An anonymous tip has arrived here,” declared His Excellency Chiba Yakumo, Superintendent General of the Metropolitan Police.

The Superintendent General removed the lid of the paulownia box and shoved it before Superintendent Ōeyama. Inside lay a single square envelope alongside stationery that appeared to have been drawn from it.

“Ugh,” Superintendent Ōeyama groaned as he peered into the box. “Rock will return to Tokyo by ship on the 13th.—Oh! The sender’s name isn’t written here.” His eyes widened. “The 13th! Ah—it’s today!”

“Implement emergency security measures!” he barked.

The 13th happened to coincide precisely with the day someone had come requesting Homura Detective Agency’s assistance regarding the vanished subterranean locomotive that sank off Shibaura. At Metropolitan Police Headquarters, an anonymous tip stating “Rock returns” had arrived, sparking a boiling uproar. Having been burned by the gentleman burglar’s efficiency before, they immediately deployed an ironclad security net.

The Metropolitan Police Headquarters’ wireless device emitted radio waves as if it had gone mad.
The officers and detectives from the Tokyo and Yokohama Water Police Stations were immediately placed on emergency alert and assigned to guard the harbors.
On land, in turn, all stations were fully mobilized for security.
In the sky, security planes crisscrossed, while underwater, the Water Police Station’s prized submarine sprang into action.
Through fourfold deployment across sky, land, sea surface, and seabed, the area was doubly and triply protected—not a pinprick gap could be found.

Superintendent Ōeyama led subordinates on assignment to Yokohama Wharf.

“Returning to Tokyo by ship… If he’s coming back to the capital, will he dock at Shibaura? Or arrive in Yokohama and enter Tokyo from there?”

Superintendent Ōeyama was deeply conflicted.
However, he couldn’t afford to hesitate.
He divided the staff in half, dispatching one team to Shibaura Port and another to Yokohama Port.
And Superintendent Ōeyama himself, trusting his judgment, headed for Yokohama—

And now, the Koreya Maru—the sole foreign-return steamship scheduled to dock that day—loomed on the horizon beyond the harbor.

**Koreya Maru Enters Port**

The American-return Koreya Maru moored its exhausted hull at No. 4 Anchorage within the harbor.

Impatient with the ship’s sluggish halt, a motorboat pulled alongside.
At the head of the group noisily climbing the ladder stood Superintendent Ōeyama.

“Ah, you’ve had quite the ordeal,” greeted the captain.

“I trust you’re aware of the orders transmitted via wireless,” Superintendent Ōeyama said sharply.

“Yes.”
“No passengers have disembarked.”

Superintendent Ōeyama pounced on those words.

“Not just passengers—the crew too.”

“Of course, sir. But you already took the chief engineer earlier, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean, ‘earlier’? When was this?”
Superintendent Ōeyama’s face instantly turned pale.

“Didn’t you dispatch the Water Police Station’s patrol boat to the outer harbor earlier?”
“And then you took only the chief engineer for questioning…”

“Absurd!”
Without waiting to hear the rest, Superintendent Ōeyama shouted.
“Take me to the chief engineer’s cabin immediately.”

Superintendent Ōeyama, who had rushed into the chief engineer’s cabin like an arrow, burst back out onto the deck in less than three minutes—again, like an arrow.

“It’s all that bastard’s fingerprints. The one disguised as the chief engineer was Rock!”

At that moment, a sailor shouted.
“Look! That patrol boat from earlier is heading over there!”

The Vanished Chief Engineer

“Where? Where is he?”

Superintendent Ōeyama borrowed binoculars and looked out at the distant stretch of sea where he’d been directed.
Sure enough, a single patrol boat flying the Water Police Station’s flag was speeding away offshore like an arrow.

“Ah!”
Superintendent Ōeyama leaned out perilously from the railing and shouted.
“There he is!
“I can see the bastard disguised as the chief engineer!
“Alright, after them!”

A fierce maritime pursuit began.
The fleeing patrol boat appeared to be heading toward Tokyo.
However, the high-speed motorboat that Superintendent Ōeyama had selected in anticipation of such an eventuality finally caught up to the targeted patrol boat.

“Stop right there!”

Superintendent Ōeyama leaped aboard the foremost patrol boat.
Next, his subordinates clambered aboard in a disorderly scramble.
Because the patrol boat was narrow, its interior was thoroughly searched without delay.
However, neither the crucial chief engineer nor, needless to say, Rock himself could be found.
The officials all stood dumbfounded by the sheer inexplicability of it all.
That couldn’t be right.

Late that night.

There, on the coast of Tsukishima—a reclaimed land area in Tokyo—stood a portly man, holding in both arms a large diving suit from which water dripped steadily.

When the face became visible in the moonlight that happened to be shining at that moment, it was the gimlet-eyed old man Otsuji.
What on earth was he doing at this hour?

What became of the subterranean locomotive that vanished into the seabed?

How had Rock—the gentleman thief who’d posed as the chief engineer—escaped, and where had he disappeared to?

Where had the boy detective Sankichi gone?

Phantom Thief’s Secret Chamber

When divers were later sent to search for the Subterranean Locomotive that had sunk to the water’s depths, it had vanished without a trace—no shadow, no form remaining.
Meanwhile, after receiving an anonymous tip that Phantom Thief "Rock" was returning from abroad, the Metropolitan Police rushed to Yokohama Port and intercepted the patrol boat he was aboard—yet mysteriously, Rock himself was nowhere to be found.
What an astonishing string of bizarre incidents kept occurring!

Well, it was unclear where this place was, but it was a strangely windowless room.
Five or six rough-looking men were gathered around a round table.
Sprawled arrogantly at the head of the table was none other than Rock himself—how on earth had he escaped here?!

“Hey, everyone! When dawn breaks, we’re hitting the ground running!”

If Rock was ordering his subordinates into action, this was no trivial matter.
What could they possibly be planning?

The fiendish hand reached forth.

Rock spoke in a rasping growl while his lone eye darted about restlessly.

“How’s that?
“You see? This Rock’s set his sights on something colossal!”
“There ain’t no job grander than what this Rock’s pulling off!”
“No one but this Rock could’ve hatched such schemes—and when it comes to execution, there’s none outside my crew fit for the task.”
“When you think on it, this Rock’s a phantom thief of global renown.”
“No—the emperor of wealth himself.”
“Mark my words—every nation on earth’ll come kneelin’ before this Rock soon enough.”
“Bwahahaha!”

Rock shook his massive frame, tilted his head back toward the ceiling, and laughed uproariously—"Bwahahaha!"
The subordinates stood utterly dumbfounded, staring fixedly at their Boss’s laughing face.

“However, the job itself is incomparably difficult.
Until the critical moment arrives, not even the slightest hint of this must be detected by outsiders.
That’s why we’ll take our time—advancing steadily from afar in a grand operation over several days.
Those who accomplish this must be heroes.
This Rock needs heroic subordinates.
I don’t need men who aren’t heroes—so scram right now while you still can!”

However, no one made a move to leave their seats—was everyone here truly a hero?
There truly were remarkable heroes among them.

At that moment, a roaring, terrifying noise approached from nowhere.
Before they could register their surprise, it gradually faded into the distance.

When one of the subordinates stood up and removed the framed picture from the wall, to their astonishment, a square screen appeared behind it, displaying the image of a subway train that was now receding into the distance.

“That was the first subway train of the day.”

“Good! Let’s get to work!”

Rock rose smoothly to his feet.

Otsuji the Quirky Detective

This was the Quirky Detective Matayemon Otsuji.

He clutched a diving suit dripping with water, but having waited too long, he could no longer restrain himself and kept yawning repeatedly while submerged.

“Guh... guh... Wah! Wah! Wahwahwahwaaah!”

He resembled a python yawning.

“How excruciatingly slow this is!”
“Ugh, I’m so sick of this.”
Being a famous detective was tough.
“The world-renowned Otsuji... Whoa! Hah-hachoo!”

It seemed Matayemon Otsuji had caught a cold.

Just then, from the direction of the shore came a voice shouting, "Hey! Hey!"

“Oh.”
“They’re calling.”
“Now, are they friend or foe?”
“Anyway, it’s unbearably cold—let’s go ashore, ashore…”

Detective Otsuji shouldered the diving suit and came splashing up toward Tsukishima’s coast with precarious steps.

The Man Who Entrusted the Diving Suit

“What’s with that getup?”

“Oh. Sankichi?”
“Sankichi?”
Matayemon Otsuji patted his chest.

“Were you diving in a diving suit?”

“Nuh-uh,” Otsuji shook his head honestly, “I was standing on Tsukishima’s coast keeping watch over the sea surface like you ordered.”
“Then a large man came up beside me and said, ‘In case of emergencies, you’ll want to search with this thing, so I’ll lend it to you,’ and he lent me this thing here,” he pointed at the diving suit.

“A large man? And then what happened?” Sankichi pressed, moving closer.

“I thanked him, but I didn’t know how to put it on. I asked him to show me how as well, and he said, ‘I’ll send the professor over now, so hold onto this and wait here for a bit,’ then went off that way. He should be here any minute.”

Sankichi burst out laughing.

“What are you laughing at? You don’t realize this could be useful, do you?”

“But that diving suit was wet from the start, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“Then that’s no good. That suit had just been used underwater. Given that it’s a large man we’re dealing with, it must be Rock. Look! It’s written right here in red—‘Rock’! We’re being made fools of!”

When he shone the flashlight, sure enough, there was exactly such a mark. Otsuji was pouting.

The Phantom Thief "Rock’s" Escape Route

Sankichi decisively concluded.

“Rock wasn’t found in the motorboat.”
“He slipped into this diving suit and dove into the sea with a flourish before they could catch up.”
“This suit’s got an oxygen tank attached—lets him walk along the seabed solo.”
“He kept trudging toward Tsukishima’s coast, waited for you to let your guard down, popped his head up like some sea goblin, stripped off the suit quick as lightning, handed it to you, then made his getaway.”

“Is that so? But he did say he’d send the professor over...”

“Do you really think any teacher or student would come? Let’s look for footprints instead.”

Guided by the flashlight, they searched the vicinity and discovered deeply embedded shoe prints of peculiar design in the sandy ground.

“Ah! Perfect!” Sankichi dissolved the prepared plaster and swiftly took a mold of the print. It resembled nothing but the sole of a pure white shoe.

“How about it, Sankichi? I might look like I’m slacking off, but I’ll end up making real contributions yet! A great detective’s gotta act this way! Since this shoe mold counts as my achievement too, I’ll be keeping it!”

Otsuji snatched Rock’s shoe mold from Sankichi’s hand.

Meanwhile, crimson gradually spread across the eastern sky.
Before long, dawn arrived.

The surroundings gradually came into view, faintly like layers of thin paper being peeled away.

Waves were splashing noisily against the stone embankment.
That was when it happened.

“Hmm?”

The boy detective Sankichi, who had been crouching in the sandy ground, muttered to himself and promptly stood up.

Urgent pursuit!

In the road five hundred meters ahead of Sankichi’s gaze, ten or so large freight trucks had just begun to move in a swaying line.

“Mr. Otsuji, look at that!” Sankichi turned back.

“Freight trucks, huh.”
“They look brand new.”
“With that many, even as a car dealer, you could make a decent living,” he said, his greed truly knowing no bounds.

“Don’t you think that freight truck convoy is too impressive?”
“I don’t know what they’re carrying, but they’re all covered with canvas.”
“Let’s try to find out where they’re headed.”

“Alright, let’s chase them before we lose sight… It’s a shame to waste this diving suit, but we’ll leave it here.”

The two of them, carrying their hunger, desperately started running.
Fortunately, the aforementioned freight trucks—perhaps cautious of the soft road surface—were moving quietly.

After four or five minutes had passed—apparently having reached a proper paved road—the freight truck convoy dramatically increased its speed.
Before their eyes, the automobiles rapidly dwindled into the distance.

“Tch.”
“Still not out on the main road yet?”

“We need to hail a taxi fast, or we’re done for!”
“Ah, perfect! A beat-up freight truck’s coming from over there! Hey! Hey!”

“Hey! Give us a ride, c’mon!”

Finally, the two managed to stop the beat-up freight truck. They asked the driver and were allowed to climb into the cargo compartment behind the loaded freight.

“I’ll reward you handsomely, so please drive as I instruct.”

“Well, that’s—” The driver was considering, but

“Why don’t you check with the passenger inside?”

“The passenger inside?”
When the two of them turned around in surprise—though they had not noticed until now—there in a corner of the cargo compartment leaned a middle-aged man in a slightly soiled Western-style suit, hugging his knees. He seemed to be asleep.

Whereabouts of the Mysterious Truck

The man in Western clothes they thought had been sleeping was in fact wide awake.

“I object.
“I am Manabe who holds the geology chair at Science University.
“Detective escorts I’ll have none of.
“All of you—out.
“This vehicle stands under my contract.”

“Man’s got a mighty big mouth.
“Oughta fold ’im quick.”

Otsuji looked like he was about to lunge.

“Wait—I said wait, Mr. Otsuji!”
“This man’s a professor—that’s why he talks big.”

Sankichi turned toward Dr. Manabe and said,
"I didn't realize you were a professor—I'm sorry. What we're chasing now are those ten large freight trucks moving away over there. That's—"

"Oh, those trucks?"
The professor blinked rapidly and declared, "In that case, you may pursue them."

"Huh."

The two strained intently, determined not to lose sight of the freight truck convoy.
They sped up through the dawn-lit streets in pursuit, but given that theirs was a beat-up automobile, they tended to fall behind.

The enemy left Fukagawa, passed through Kyōbashi and Nihonbashi to enter Kanda, then steadily advanced along Hongō Avenue.
Having reduced speed at last, they entered none other than Science University—

“Well now… Have they circled back after all?”

Dr. Manabe sat upright.

“What in blazes—”

Sankichi and Otsuji clicked their tongues in unison.
What a contrary professor he was.
Yet this did nothing to dispel their lingering doubts.

The Gold Coins of the Empress

“Empress carrying one million dollars in gold coins sinks off Tokyo Bay. Strange large hole in hull.”
“Strange and Mysterious Large Hole in Ship’s Hull”

Yet another major incident occurred.

This news broke that very morning.
Around noon came another shocking update.

“One Million Dollars in Gold Coins Missing.”
Officials were stunned by the divers’ report.
“Cursed Waters of Tokyo Bay.”
“Looming International Crisis?”

This was serious.

Not even days had passed since the bizarre incident where the Subterranean Locomotive sank into the seabed and vanished—now another major disaster had erupted in nearly the same location.
The Metropolitan Police Department’s panic was palpable.

Who on earth did it?
How was it done?

Across Science University’s vast campus, earth was being piled in every direction.
It was the vast amount of soil unloaded from those ten freight trucks.

This soil was dug up from Tsukishima.
Dr. Manabe, seizing on this earth-piling operation as his opportunity, had been making trips to Tsukishima, so utterly absorbed in his geological research that he literally forgot to eat or sleep.
When news of the gold bullion incident broke, Sankichi and Otsuji were once again at Science University observing the earth-piling operation.
The two tugged at the extra edition from both sides.

“It’s exactly the major incident I was expecting.”
“From now on, I think there will be even more incredible things.”

“This is getting out of hand.”
“How about we ask Professor Homura to return from France?”

Otsuji, his hand trembling as it clutched Rock’s shoe mold, finally let slip a genuine whimper of defeat.

“Panicking is so undignified.”

Sankichi admonished the large man.
“We’ve been confronting the true nature of this case faster than the Metropolitan Police Department.”

“The true nature of the case?”

“That’s right.”
“Take a look at this—”

So saying, Sankichi pointed a sharp finger at one particular spot of the earth-piled soil.
Ah, what shocking truth about the incident had been exposed there?

Phantom Thief’s Mysterious Call

The whereabouts of the world’s sole Subterranean Locomotive remained unknown, and Phantom Thief “Rock’s” location likewise defied discovery. Though Comedic Detective Matayemon Otsuji had conversed with Rock at Tsukishima Coast, he had failed to recognize him. Sankichi Miura, the boy detective who had raced to the scene, burned with frustration—but all was already water under the bridge.

Having returned to his cunningly crafted subterranean den deep beneath the earth, Rock abruptly assembled his subordinates and issued a monumental decree! What grand upheaval would now be unleashed by Rock’s hand?

Even though it was an extremely early hour, an insistent telephone call came through to Superintendent Ōeyama of the Metropolitan Police Department’s Investigative Division.

“Ah, hello?”
“This is Ōeyama…”

“So you’re Superintendent Ōeyama.”

The other party spoke in a domineering tone.

“The steamship Empress carrying one million dollars in gold coins has entered Yokohama Harbor - I’ll be taking that for myself now. Don’t take it personally.”

“Wh-what are you saying?!”
“What kind of bastard—”

“I am Rock!”
The phone call cut off abruptly.

Science University’s Earth-Piling

“Rock! That—”
“That—”

With that single command, the Special Police Squad—who had been lying in wait, prepared for precisely such an eventuality—raced down the Keihin Highway in the Metropolitan Police Department’s pride and joy: large pursuit vehicles equipped with radios, moving like cannonballs.

At that time, Sankichi and Otsuji stood at Science University’s new construction site, tilting their heads in puzzlement.

Having pursued the ten-truck convoy from Tsukishima Coast, the two found themselves unexpectedly arriving inside Science University in Hongo, leaving them astonished.

And then, from the car that had brought them there, a mysterious figure clambered out—and to their second shock, it turned out to be none other than Dr. Manabe, now making waves worldwide as a mineralogist.
Dr. Manabe strode into the laboratory.

(What has happened twice is bound to happen a third time.)

As the proverb foretold, they were finally compelled to face their third shock.

“There’s something odd about this earth-piling!” exclaimed young Sankichi.

“Now that you mention it, it is strange!” Otsuji exclaimed, blinking rapidly. “It seems to be shaped like the Fortress of Verdun. During the European Great War, Germany’s…”

“That’s not it,” Sankichi interjected. “It’s not about the shape—it’s this blue soil.”

“Well, well—you’re saying this blue soil is suspicious?” Otsuji blinked rapidly. “If the blue soil’s suspicious, then shouldn’t this red dirt around here be suspicious too? And if it were black soil—well, what then?”

Otsuji’s statements were always off the mark.

Nihonbashi’s unique blue soil

“I actually know a thing or two about this blue soil,” Sankichi pressed on.

“Hmm, what could you possibly know?”

“A while back, there was subway construction near where I live.”
“I live right in the center of Nihonbashi.”
“At first, they only dug up red and black soil, but one day this blue soil appeared.”
“Because I found it curious, I asked the supervisor working on the construction.”
“‘This is incredibly blue soil, don’t you think?’ I said.”

“Hmm.”

“Then the supervisor said this blue soil is truly rare—soil that exists nowhere in the Tokyo area except beneath Nihonbashi.”
“He said this soil is unique even within Nihonbashi—found exclusively around Muromachi where the Bank of Japan, Mitsukoshi, and Mitsui Bank are located.”
“This blue soil—that’s what it is.”

“That’s strange.”
“But this soil’s being brought here by truck from Tsukishima, isn’t it?”
“Then, if we consider that to be soil from that area, the idea that soil from Nihonbashi Muromachi is being excavated from Tsukishima and transported to Hongo—this is an unbelievable thing, I tell you!”

Mr. Otsuji then rolled his signature large, acorn-shaped eyes wildly.

“But Mr. Otsuji, if we can just figure out a reason, then what initially seemed strange might not be strange anymore.”
“If only we could establish why soil from Nihonbashi is being excavated from Tsukishima...”

“As if there’s any possible explanation for that!”

“But...” young Sankichi stammered.

"If the Subterranean Locomotive were active..."—he barely managed to swallow the words that had risen to his lips.

Following the Footprints

“More importantly, this shoe mold here.”

The Quirky Detective Otsuji reverently paid homage to the white plaster shoe mold taken from Rock’s footprint.

“Mr. Otsuji, you look like you’re about to break that shoe mold any second! Watching from the side has me on edge!”

“Nah, don’t fret.”
“Look here—three footprints pressed into this soft soil.”
“Let’s examine one properly.”

Detective Otsuji, with ever more care, lowered the shoe mold to the ground.

“How about this one?” he applied it to the first footprint. “This doesn’t match! This is Dr. Manabe’s footprint, but the doctor isn’t Rock.”

“Pfft.” Sankichi burst out laughing. “Dr. Manabe isn’t Rock.”

“But you can’t be so sure about that.”

Now for the second footprint.
This was a small footprint.
There was no way this could match.
"This one's fine too."

“Whose footprint is that?”

“This is your footprint.”

“My footprint? Oh, you’re unbelievable, Mr. Otsuji.”

“And here’s the third footprint.”
“Hmm, this one’s too big to fit.”
“This doesn’t seem to be Rock either.”

“Whose footprint is that?”

“This is my footprint.”

“What?!”

“In other words, that proves I’m not Rock!”
“How’s that? Perfectly logical, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, please.”
“Well obviously not!”
With a raucous “Wahaha!”, the two doubled over, clutching their stomachs as they burst into laughter.

The Phantom Blaze of Empress Maru

“It should be visible by now...”

Superintendent Ōeyama was searching through a telescope from atop a car speeding like an arrow, scanning the direction believed to be Yokohama Port.

“Superintendent!” The shout came from one of the tightly packed armed police officers.
“Over there, strange smoke is rising.”
“Could it be a fire?”

“What smoke?”
“Oh, that!”

When they looked, sure enough, in the direction of the sea, a jet-black smoke—too voluminous for chimney smoke—was billowing upward.

“Hmm, hey, communications officer. Contact Yokohama Police by radio and inquire.”

“Squeal, squeal, squeal.”

Yokohama Police were immediately summoned.

“Oh, this is the Metropolitan Police Department’s Special Police Squad. May I ask—there’s smoke rising in the direction of the sea. What is that?”

“Well, we haven’t received any reports yet—” began the Yokohama side’s response, but then “Ah, just a moment please.”
“A report has just come in.”
“Ah! It’s terrible!”
“Emergency! Emergency!”

“What do you mean, ‘emergency’?”

“The Empress ship anchored in the port has suddenly caught fire.”
“The cause is unknown, but the flames are growing more intense.”
“In this situation, we’ll have no choice but to unload that million-dollar gold bullion.”

Ah, the Empress’s mysterious fire.
Was it truly an accident, or…

Once the crisis had passed

“Move! Full speed ahead!”

Superintendent Ōeyama stood up abruptly on the vehicle and shouted.
The car charged forward—

“More speed!”
“When I tell you to give me speed, give me speed!”

Superintendent Ōeyama’s face flushed crimson as he roared.

“It’s already at maximum capacity.”
“If we push it any further, it’ll break.”

“Do it even if it breaks!”
“Better to wreck it than let Rock make fools of us again!”

The speed had reached such intensity that they could no longer keep their eyes open.
The car seemed to be flying through the air.
The siren’s dreadful groan transformed the bustling avenue into a deserted path in an instant.

Finally, they arrived at the harbor—a place still steeped in lingering resentment.
Indeed, it was the Empress that was burning.
Black and yellow smoke, like colored ribbons, were battered by sideways gusts of wind, while above the mast, crimson flames flickered their tongues fiercely.

“The gold bullion?”
The superintendent shouted.

“We’ve safely transferred it to Specie Bank,” said the Police Inspector who had been guarding the pier as he came running up.

“I see,” Superintendent Ōeyama acknowledged. “To Specie Bank then.”

The convoy of vehicles lurched forward once more toward the financial institution. Barely two minutes later, they screeched to a halt before the bank’s imposing entrance.

“Status of the bullion?” the superintendent barked anew.

“We’ve put it in the underground vault.”
“Please rest assured.”

The police inspector who was there saluted with a raised hand and answered confidently.

“I see. That puts my mind at ease.”

With these words, Superintendent Ōeyama wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Security in the Dark

That night’s security at Specie Bank was likely unparalleled in its strictness.

Thirty elite officers from the Special Police Squad and fifty officers and detectives from the Yokohama Police—eighty security personnel in total—under the command of Superintendent Ōeyama, mounted a defense so tight that not even an ant could crawl through.

The night deepened silently.

“Everything alright?”

“Safe or not, it’s not like a single soul’s shown up.”

When the security officers abruptly bumped into each other in the darkness, they shone their flashlights on each other’s faces and had this exchange.

“No abnormalities.”

“No abnormalities at all.”

Thus, dawn arrived.
The eastern sky grew faintly bright.

“Dawn is breaking.”
“In the end， Rock didn’t show up.”

“Looks like that bastard’s finally wised up.”
“Even though he declared yesterday he’d take it， hasn’t shown up at all.”
“Though I suppose it’s precisely because our security’s working so well that he’s been too scared to show up.”

But Superintendent Ōeyama alone couldn’t shake his unease.
Now that it was today, he thought that if he could actually lay eyes on the gold coins, he’d truly feel at ease.

“Alright, let’s open the vault.”

Ah, the million dollars in gold coins!

The large vault of Specie Bank had been simple to deposit into but proved tremendously laborious to open.
That was to prevent it from being easily stolen.

Finally, with a creak, the final chamber opened.
All that remained was to align the final dial and give the handle a firm pull.

Superintendent Ōeyama and the police personnel, along with the bank staff, involuntarily swallowed saliva.

Clank, clank, clank.—

When they grasped the handle and pulled, the vault door—fitted into the wall like a beer barrel—opened soundlessly—

The gold coins?

“Ah!”

“Oh! The gold coins aren’t here!”

It was strange—strange indeed.
The gold coins, said to weigh one and a half tons, had vanished without a single piece remaining.
Who could have breached that rigorous security net?

The truth was, no one had entered this vault room—and yet the gold coins had vanished like smoke.

Superintendent Ōeyama’s face flushed red—then turned ashen as earth.
The phantom thief Rock had truly fulfilled his promise.

Where was Sankichi Miura, the boy detective, and what was he doing? How had Rock transported that vast sum of money, and where did he intend to use it? Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga—an engine noise echoing from some unknown direction. Could that be the rumored Subterranean Locomotive?

The Boy Detective’s Doubt

The phantom thief known as "Rock" first absconded with what was said to be the world’s only Subterranean Locomotive, then shortly thereafter effortlessly plundered a million dollars in gold coins from the Empress’s consignment within Specie Bank’s colossal vault.

Sankichi Miura, the Boy Detective, was working alongside Matayemon Otsuji, the Eccentric Detective, to investigate this case.

While Otsuji clutched Rock’s plaster footprint mold like a sacred relic, Sankichi had his eye on the blue soil transported from Tsukishima to Tokyo University’s construction site.

“This blue soil that’s said to exist only around Nihonbashi Muromachi—why is it being dug up from Tsukishima?”

And this was Sankichi’s burning question.

Now then—where is Rock hiding?

Dr. Manabe’s Seismograph

“What kind of fool would believe such nonsense?”

The one who had said this was Dr. Manabe, an authority in mineralogy.
Before him stood Sankichi and Otsuji.

“Right—this is absurd!
“Hey Sankichi, let’s stop this and go home already,” Otsuji fidgeted restlessly.

“No, Dr.—” Sankichi protested earnestly.
“If Tsukishima and Nihonbashi Muromachi were connected by an underground passage, wouldn’t that resolve this mystery?”

“There’s no such underground passage!”

“But you could create one using the Subterranean Locomotive.”

“No one’s ever laid eyes on that Subterranean Locomotive!
Such reckless speculation’s no good for scholars.”

“Then I’ll definitely discover the Subterranean Locomotive.”

“Don’t be absurd!”

“Anyway, Dr. Please lend me the portable seismograph you designed. With that, I’ll locate the Subterranean Locomotive and return.”

“If you insist that much, I’ll lend you one that’s available.”

Finally, Dr. Manabe yielded and lent Sankichi the portable seismograph. It was an instrument about the size of a desk drawer.

When Dr. Manabe left the room, the two also stood up.

“Sankichi, what’re you gonna do with that thing anyway?”

“With this, I’ll make a name for myself!”

“Speaking of achievements,” Otsuji said as if suddenly remembering, pulling out Rock’s footprint mold and aligning it with the shoe prints Dr. Manabe had left behind.

“Rock hasn’t disguised himself as the Doctor yet.”
Otsuji put on an exaggerated look of disappointment.

Right wrist!

“Could it be the Boss?”

In the basement, Rock’s henchmen—their faces gathered in unease—abruptly looked up.
The red electric lamp fixed above the entrance flickered ominously—

Tap. Tap. Tap-tap.

“It’s the Boss!”

“The Boss is safe!”

The henchmen leapt from their seats like rabbits and threw open the door.

Sure enough, outside stood Rock, ramrod straight.

“Welcome back, Boss!”
“Welcome back, Boss!”

Rock entered the room silently.
He kept his right hand thrust deep into his pocket, looking utterly exhausted.

“Boss, how did it go?”

Rock—who had sunk into the large chair in the back—snapped his eyes open at his subordinate’s voice.

“I secured the million dollars.
But—” Rock’s voice clouded over.

“We paid quite a price ourselves.”

“What did you say… Boss?”

“L-Look at this!”

Rock clenched his teeth in pain and quietly withdrew his right hand from his pocket.

“B-Boss, what happened to your wrist?”

The wrist wasn’t visible.
The shape of the right wrist was gone, wrapped tightly in something like rubber cloth.

“There was a bomb planted at the bottom of Yokohama Specie Bank’s vault.”
“…that thing blew my wrist off.”

For a phantom thief—even considering the price of a million dollars—wasn’t this outcome rather pitiful?

Dreaded Foe

“For someone like me to have my invaluable wrist torn off…”
“This is unforgivable!”
Rock shouted, his right arm—now missing its wrist—trembling violently.
“Well? Don’t you find this suspicious?”
“I’d checked every last screw on that vault.”
“And to lose it so helplessly...”

“Speaking of which, Boss…” said Kamo Shiro, the lieutenant.
“According to yesterday’s radio broadcast, the *Empress* sank to the seabed with the gold coins this morning. Then, when divers went down to investigate shortly after, they found the million dollars in gold had vanished without a trace.”
“However, according to your account, Boss, you went out late last night to Yokohama Specie Bank and stole the million dollars.”
“This doesn’t add up.”
“Which one is actually true?”

“That’s it!”
Rock's face twisted.
“I had planned to have the gold coins transported to Yokohama Specie Bank.”
“However, the radio first broadcast that the gold coins had sunk to the seabed, and then in the second news report, it said they’d vanished from the seabed.”
“With this setup, it’s like I was outfoxed by some scavenger before I could even make my move—I was this close to going home in bitter tears.”

“But that was all police misinformation—complete nonsense.”
“They tried their damnedest to keep the transfer to Yokohama Specie Bank under wraps.”
“They thought broadcasting that would make Rock give up.”
“…I was this close to losing my grip on the million dollars for good.”

For the police, it was too clever a move.
“That’s when I should’ve realized.”
“How exactly should you have realized?”

“When the bomb blew my wrist off and I screamed ‘Agh!’, that’s when I realized—”
“That my formidable enemy has returned to Japan—”

With that, Rock fell abruptly silent.
Who exactly was this enemy that the phantom thief Rock feared?

What will Rock do?

At the Metropolitan Police Department, an emergency meeting of investigative officers began with Superintendent General Chiba at its center.
Even the Yokohama Police Chief from as far away as Yokohama joined.

“Let’s begin.”
It was Superintendent Ōeyama who spoke.
“I’d like to hear everyone’s opinions on what Rock will do next. …When we consider his actions thus far, the first incident was his theft of the Subterranean Locomotive.”
“We can state unequivocally, based on evidence, that this was Rock’s doing.”
“The second incident is the theft of a million dollars in gold coins from Yokohama Specie Bank.”

“While we were focused solely on the vault’s front, Rock struck at our blind spot—digging a tunnel underground, breaching the weaker rear section, and making off with the gold coins.”

“Just what does Rock intend to do now that he’s obtained that locomotive and gotten his hands on a million dollars in gold?”

“Well—” No sooner had he said this than everyone exchanged glances, but no one offered a reply.
The answer was that elusive.

“According to earlier reports, Rock dug a tunnel.”
“How about this? If we reverse course through that tunnel, wouldn’t we likely reach Rock’s lair?”

The Superintendent General interjected.

“That’s a brilliant plan!”

The group pounded the table and shouted.

“Then let’s form a Suicide Squad and descend underground immediately,” declared the Superintendent General, his resolve etched plainly across his features.

Recruiting the Suicide Squad

“Well? Are there no brave souls willing to fight Rock underground? Are there no noble souls willing to join the Suicide Squad?”

Superintendent Ōeyama gathered the police officers within the department and shouted from a raised platform.

“Alright!”
“I’ll go,” said a young police officer, raising his hand.

“What? You’re volunteering?!”

“I’ll go too.”

“I too must insist on undertaking this!”

In an instant, nine Suicide Squad members were assembled.

“Attention!”
Superintendent Ōeyama lined up the nine Suicide Squad members and barked a command.
All nine men were splendidly built warriors who looked every bit as formidable as their number suggested.
Worried that Rock might have infiltrated their ranks, Superintendent Ōeyama scrutinized the group from end to end, but every last man stood perfectly composed.

(First, we’re safe.)

Superintendent Ōeyama thought to himself. However, as a precaution, it would have been prudent to have the warriors remove their gloves and inspect their hands—but since Superintendent Ōeyama was unaware that Rock had lost a hand to a bomb, he failed to notice this. “We’ve also procured excavation machinery.” “Look, that’s it loaded on the truck over there.” The warriors turned to look where the Superintendent pointed and indeed saw sturdy machinery loaded on the truck.

“And I hereby name this Suicide Squad the Subterranean Assault Team.”
“As commander, I, Ōeyama, will take the lead and direct operations.”

Ah, Superintendent Ōeyama volunteered to become the Suicide Squad commander.
This was truly the Metropolitan Police Department’s hour of crisis!

Old Man Otsuji’s Participation

It was the moment when the ten members of the Subterranean Assault Team assembled before the Metropolitan Police Department headquarters and were about to embark on their valiant sortie.
Rushing to the scene were a boy and a pot-bellied giant—needless to say, this was none other than the boy detective Sankichi and the comical detective Otsuji.

“Hey, Sankichi!” Otsuji said, his face beet red. “Why don’t we get them to let us join this Subterranean Assault Team? This is the quickest way to catch Rock!”

“Yeah,” Sankichi replied in his usual manner, rolling his black, adorable eyes, “but I’m against it.”

“What do you mean you’re against it?! You coward!”

“I think it’s better to keep doing the detective work I’ve been doing up until now.”

“You’re making all these excuses, but really, you’re just scared, aren’t you? I don’t want to work with a coward like you! Even if Mr. Homura comes back and scolds us, I won’t care!”

“It’s you who’ll get scolded, Mr. Otsuji.”

“No—I won’t speak another word to you coward!”

In the end, Sankichi and Otsuji had parted ways.

When Old Man Otsuji was permitted to join the Suicide Squad, he grew even more triumphant. He sprawled arrogantly in the car, adopting a Napoleon-esque air of importance. Moreover, he carefully cradled Rock’s footprint mold under his arm.

“Mr. Otsuji.”
“You mustn’t break that footprint mold!”

“Ain’t nothin’ to worry about… Whoa there! I wasn’t supposed to speak to you at all!”

The preparations were complete.
The assault team’s cars lined up in a row and departed.
Heading for Yokohama Specie Bank...

In the Muromachi vicinity: Hmm...

The boy Sankichi was left alone, but he did not despair.

“Excuse me, but could you let me take some measurements?”

With that, he went around Nihonbashi’s basement-equipped buildings one by one, setting up his portable seismograph to take measurements as he went.

“What exactly are you measuring?”

“We can confirm that your house is safe.”

“What do you mean ‘safe’?”

“That will become clear soon.”
“Heh heh heh.”

While having such conversations, Sankichi made his rounds.
As Sankichi approached the Muromachi district, his expression grew tense.

“Hmm,” he said in the basement of the Bank of Japan.

“Hmm,” he said again in the basement of Tokyo Department Store.

“Hmm,” he said again in the basement of Mitsui Bank.

At those three locations, Sankichi always felt the ceaseless tremors of minor earthquakes.
They were transmitted from deep beneath the earth's crust, certainly not from the surface above.
Real earthquakes occurred only very rarely.
Moreover, the areas where they resonated strongly lasted only a very brief time.
However, in this Muromachi vicinity, strange continuous earthquakes were occurring.

"There’s something here!"

After being deep in thought for some time, Sankichi put away the seismograph and hurriedly rushed out of Mitsui Bank’s basement.

Meanwhile, what had become of the eleven-member Suicide Squad that had burrowed underground from Yokohama Specie Bank? Forty hours had already passed, but their whereabouts had become unknown.

Alive or dead?

Detective Rivalry

The phantom thief "Rock" appeared to be operating the subterranean locomotive—said to be the only one in the world—to carry out some grand scheme, but exactly what that entailed remained unclear.

Superintendent Ōeyama finally solidified his grand resolve and formed a Subterranean Assault Team composed of ten police officers.
The one who witnessed this was Matayemon Otsuji, the comic detective—still stubbornly clutching Rock’s plaster footprint mold—and he valiantly joined them, swelling their ranks to eleven members.
Immediately, they burrowed underground from behind Yokohama Specie Bank’s vault.

Our boy detective Sankichi, restraining his desire to join [the squad], adhered strictly to the investigative principles taught by his mentor Detective Homura from the outset. Undeterred, he then took up his seismograph and diligently combed through basement after basement in the Nihonbashi Muromachi vicinity.

Subterranean Fiend

What had become of the Subterranean Assault Team?

With Superintendent Ōeyama at the lead and Matayemon Otsuji, the comic detective, bringing up the rear, the eleven brave members valiantly burrowed into the lightless depths of the earth like moles (though it might sound odd to say so). At first, it was a hole they could barely crawl through on their bellies, but as they advanced, it gradually widened. By the end, they could stand and walk comfortably, to the point where the digging machine they had brought along became more of a hindrance.

“Now the tunnel turns north!”

Superintendent Ōeyama, firmly gripping a compass in his hand, shouted.

“Haa… We’ve already advanced ten kilometers northeast of Yokohama,”

reported the measuring officer.
In this manner, the group pressed onward without respite, marking their position on the map with pencil traces as they advanced.
Yet not once did they encounter Rock or cross paths with any of his subordinates.

“Hey, Mr. Ōeyama!” Otsuji called out from behind.
“Couldn’t Rock have skedaddled off to some foreign country with that huge sum of money?”
“Or maybe he’s scared of us—not a single squeak out of him!”

Otsuji had mistaken Rock for a mouse or something.
The group’s vigilance began to slacken slightly.

It was exactly at that moment.

Boom! Rumble!

A terrifying sound suddenly erupted from behind.
Before they could even gasp, a fearsome wind battered the cheeks of the entire group with relentless force.
“Fall back!” Superintendent Ōeyama roared.

"Oh! What on earth could have happened?"

The Entombed Party

“Oh no! This is bad!”

“What’s happening? What’s happening?”

“The path we just took has collapsed—we can’t go back!”

“What do you mean we can’t go back?!”
Otsuji’s complexion turned as pale as paper.
“If we can’t go back, we’re in real trouble!
Please hurry and dig an escape hole!”

Yet the superintendent showed no sign of issuing commands.
As expected of the head investigator.
Crawling on all fours, he intently sniffed the collapsed earth.

“Ah! Someone’s planted small dynamite here.
Don’t let your guard down!”

“We’re fine. We’re fine,” the group responded.
“We’re fine. We’re fine,” the group responded.

“D-dynamite?! He said dynamite?!”

Otsuji flapped about alone like a deranged chicken.

“Leave the collapsed section as it is! All units advance!”
Superintendent Ōeyama issued a bold command.

Dududududu—the group huddled tightly together and thudded forward under the low, muddy ceiling, relying on their flashlights.

“Left, left, turn left!”

“Huh? The path’s a dead end. Something’s wrong...”

“Hmm… Did we fall for this? —Gather up!”

came the superintendent’s command.

“Number off!”

One… Two… Three…

“Huh? We’re one short.”
“Who’s missing?!”

They were indeed one short.
Where could he have vanished to?
As for the missing man, none of them knew clearly who he was or where he’d come from.
The entire group trembled in dread, as if their hearts had been gripped.

Evidence of Rock’s Presence

“Oi, Mr. Otsuji.”
“The footprint mold you treasure—if you don’t use it now, there’ll never be another chance.”
“Lend it to me for a moment.”

“No no no no!” Otsuji exaggeratedly swatted away his hand.
“Leave the searching to me!
“I’d rather break it than lend it!”

“Don’t be so difficult……”

“Out of the way! Out of the way! I’ll handle the search.”
“Now everyone—show me your feet…”

“Don’t speak so rudely.”

Even after all that commotion, they confirmed Rock was absolutely not among the remaining ten members after one had gone missing.

“He’s not here. We’re fine, Superintendent, sir.”

“Then search for the missing officer’s footprints along the soft path we came through and examine them.”

“Yes, yes.”

Old Man Otsuji turned back, relying on his flashlight as he went.
He kept bending down to search the road repeatedly until—

“Ah! Found it! Found it! It’s Rock! It’s Rock!”

“Is that true?!”
The group rushed over.
“Indeed, the footprint matches. That bastard Rock disguised himself as a police officer and joined the Suicide Squad! Ugh, what a vicious bastard!”

Superintendent Ōeyama and the group gnashed their teeth and lamented their frustration within the narrow subterranean path.

“Oi! That frustrated, are you?!”

At that moment, a sharp voice rang out from behind the group.

Old Man Otsuji’s Frenzy

“What the—?!”

When the group turned around, about five meters ahead under a lamp's light that seemed to come from nowhere stood a large man in police uniform. When he removed the black leather glove from his right hand, a fearsome artificial hand resembling a nail puller appeared. He quietly raised that hand and swiftly removed the mask—beneath it, only his large eyes blazed with an intense light. Oh—it was unmistakably *Rock*. Never before had they seen his form so clearly under such bright light. The brave warriors of the Suicide Squad stood frozen in place, utterly motionless.

“I’ll take you somewhere interesting right now!”

“What the—?!”

Before those words had even finished echoing, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble violently. In the blink of an eye, their balance failed, and they went clattering down into the abyss.

It was only after some time had passed—after the group had regained their breath—that they realized it was a booby-trapped pitfall.

“Ow ow ow!”

Old Man Otsuji did not get up and was rubbing his waist area.
“Sankichiii! Help meee!”
“Sankichiii!”
“Sankichiii! Help meee!”

“Mr. Otsuji, do you have Rock’s footprint mold?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it right here.”
With that, Old Man Otsuji reached under his armpit—but with a startled “Uwaaah!”, he immediately jumped up.
“Rock’s footprint mold—it’s gone!”

“Hmm, there’s something white spilled here,” he said, shining his flashlight at their feet.
That was undoubtedly the plaster footprint mold smashed to pieces.
“Uwaaaah! Sankichi!”
“The footprint mold’s destroyed!”
“I... I...”
“Uwaaaah! Sankichi!”

Well Cover Incident

At that moment, Sankichi the boy detective sat all alone at the desk in his mentor’s office.
However, he was not dozing off.
A large map of Tokyo City lay spread out on the desk.
Across its surface ran vigorous pencil lines.
Large circles drawn in red pencil formed multiple concentric rings around the Muromachi area.

"So this spot here simply had to be suspicious," he concluded through narrowed eyes.

Sankichi tapped the map with the eraser end of his pencil.
“Alright, how should I handle this?”

Sankichi seemed to be focusing all his attention on the map.
If he had been slightly more attentive, he would have heard the faint clattering and tapping sounds coming from the deserted back area.
Could it be a mouse?

But no—it didn’t seem to be a mouse.

As those of you with good memories may recall, this office housed a famously large well.
That well was always sealed by a massive black lid.
Yet now that very lid was slowly rising up of its own accord.
Though nobody stood near the well, the lid continued its brisk ascent.
A haunted house?
Or something else?

Sankichi remained utterly absorbed with the map.
Yet his feet rested lightly upon two foot pedals that had emerged from beneath the floorboards.
Was this intentional or mere chance?
Whatever the case, the scene before us defied all logic.

Sankichi's Great Peril

From the large lid that had slowly risen, a hand eventually emerged.
Next came something like a nail puller...

Had anyone been watching, they might have cried out in astonishment at the terrifying sight.
The one who had stealthily emerged from the well in his entirety was none other than the giant man "Rock."
Why had he emerged from the well?

Rock exercised meticulous caution as he stealthily peered into the adjacent room.
Seeing that there was no one around, he began moving gradually toward the office...
Through the glass-paned door, he could clearly see that the boy Sankichi sat facing away, engrossed in analyzing the map.

“Hmm.”

When Rock saw that, his entire face flushed crimson.

("Since the brat’s sniffed out my plan, I can’t let him live any longer.")
"That brat’s just a kid, but I’ll repay him for meddling with my work."
"Hmm."

Rock uttered those cursed words within his chest, then quietly placed his hand on the glass-paned door.
The door opened a crack.
It opened wide without a sound.
Rock smoothly slid into the room where Sankichi was.
In his hand he gripped a Colt six-shot pistol.

Sankichi showed no sign of noticing at all.

“You!”

Bang! Bang!
Bang! Bang!

At last, the trigger was pulled.
Under the fierce rain of bullets at such close range, could Sankichi possibly escape being shot dead?
No!
No!

Rock’s Tragic Fate

Near Sankichi’s head, a hole opened with a soft pop first.
Next, near his shoulder…

“Agh!”

A sharp scream rang out.
The one who screamed was not Sankichi—it was Rock.
A rattling crash resounded as the glass pane shattered.

Damn it!

Though he had shot Sankichi—had indeed shot him—it was the Sankichi reflected in the large magic mirror that he had hit, leaving the real Sankichi unharmed.
By the time Rock whirled around to locate the real Sankichi, it was already too late.
Something clattered and caught around his ankle.
Before he could even think, his foot suddenly floated into the air.
Agh! He dropped the pistol.

“This is bad!”

Before he could even think, there was a grinding, grinding, grinding sound as his foot rose above his head. The gigantic body of Rock had been hoisted upside down to the ceiling.

“Y-You... Damn you!”

It was already too late, even if he gnashed his teeth.

At that moment, the real boy detective Sankichi appeared from somewhere.

“Hey Rock.”
“It’s over for you.”

“What the… You brat!”

“What kind of major crime are you plotting underground in Muromachi?”
“Say it.”
“If you don’t talk, I’ll make you suffer.”

“Like hell I’ll talk!”
“I’ll die before I talk!”
“But mark my words—every last soul in Japan will be left weeping.”
“It’s already unstoppable!”
“Serves you right!”

Something terrible was about to happen.
Sankichi jolted as if struck in the chest.
If Rock wouldn’t talk even in this state, then that was that.

“Alright!”

With that shout, Sankichi opened the well lid and suddenly leapt into it.

Sankichi Descending the Well

The master thief "Rock," though deftly outsmarted by boy detective Sankichi and left dangling upside down from a beam, still had the gall to bluster, "Mark my words—every last soul in Japan will be left weeping! Serves you right!" Detestable indeed for a thief—no matter how notorious—to carry on so!
But could such a terrifying event—one that would leave every last soul in Japan weeping—truly be about to occur?
What in the world could that be?

Bravely, the boy detective leapt into the well.
When he leapt in and looked around, sure enough, a single rope ladder hung there.

“Ah! So that Rock guy used this thing to climb up here, huh?”

Sankichi slid smoothly downward into the depths of the deep well.
It happened when he had descended about four or five meters.
Suddenly, a gust of lukewarm wind gently brushed his cheek.

“Oh!”

Was he a rat in a trap?

(What is this?)

Sankichi flashed his flashlight.
Then, there in the wall gaped a perfectly square window-like opening.
A lukewarm wind came hissing through that window.

(Where is this wind rising from?)
(What lies beneath this window?) But this was no time for hesitation!

“Alright, charge!”

Sankichi shouted to steel himself and plunged through the window.
Inside lay a staircase someone had built.
Guided by his dimming flashlight’s glow, the boy bounced down the steps like a rubber ball.

The stairs soon came to an end.
And there, a heavy iron door blocked the path ahead.

At that very moment, a blinding light suddenly flashed from overhead.

“Wh—?”

Sankichi shrank back and looked upward simultaneously.
Ah, what on earth was happening?
The window Sankichi had slipped through earlier now gaped open as a bright square.
And from that window, a single terrifying face peered incessantly in Sankichi’s direction!
That was unmistakably Rock.
Judging by how frantically the flashlight beam kept sweeping about, its wielder apparently hadn’t spotted Sankichi yet.
The path was a single straight line—a dead-end cul-de-sac.
If discovered, Sankichi’s life would be forfeit.

At the bottom of the stairs existed a gap just large enough for the boy’s body to barely conceal itself.
Sankichi lay face down in its shadow, his posture resembling a rabbit burrowing into its hole.

Screech.
A metallic screech suddenly rang out by Sankichi’s ear.
Startled, he raised his head to see the iron door—until now as unwavering as a cliff face—beginning to inch open toward him.

Nine Deaths, One Life!

The door, appearing heavy, began to open little by little.

“Oh, Boss?”

Above Sankichi’s head, a deep voice sounded.

(I’m done for!)

Sankichi thought.
True to form for a foe, this was one of Rock’s henchmen.
Above him, Rock glared down with terrifying eyes, while below, a burly henchman cracked his knuckles.
Sankichi’s path forward and back had been completely blocked.

But then again, this was Sankichi—the boy detective certified by his mentor Soroku Homura himself.
Even amidst nine deaths, he possessed the quick wit to find the slightest opening and the courage to act.

“Hey, watch it! That brat might’ve slipped around here!”

Rock bellowed from above.

“Huh?!”

The henchman below scrutinized around the base of the stairs.
However, Sankichi was nowhere to be seen.
Not behind the stairs... nor behind the door...

“He’s not here, Boss.”

“That can’t be…” Rock peered around suspiciously, but there was indeed no sign of him.
“What the… He definitely came this way though.”
“Boss, we’re out of time!”
“Right. It’s finally time to begin. In that case, I can’t waste time on the brat. Now—push the Subterranean Locomotive to full speed!”

Ah, the Subterranean Locomotive.
The Subterranean Locomotive was right there beyond that door.

Where had Sankichi disappeared to?

The Inextricable Rope

At the critical moment, Sankichi slipped past the henchman’s feet like a mouse and disappeared through the door.
The henchman never imagined that someone would slip right beneath his feet.

Sankichi saw!
And there he saw it.
He had heard rumors about it, but this was his first time seeing the Subterranean Locomotive.

It was a bizarre-looking Subterranean Locomotive, like a worm enlarged to the size of a small hill.
Its entire body glittered with a silver sheen.
The front half of its body bristled with enormous sharp blades capable of slicing through whales, arranged in an undulating wave pattern.
When this began to rotate with a whir, it would bore through soil of course, but even hard rocks, iron walls, and concrete as effortlessly as punching holes through paper shoji screens.
What an eerie, grotesque-looking Subterranean Locomotive!

The rear half of the vehicle was not much different from an ordinary train’s control room.

“Heave-ho!”

The henchman leapt aboard and took the driver’s seat.
Rock also climbed aboard.

“Boss—what’s this…”
“This long thing wrapped around your ankle…?”

“This?”
Rock tsked and clicked his tongue.
“It’s this steel rope the brat wrapped around me. I managed to get the hook part off up here, but trying to cut the rest away from my ankle—it’s too damn tough to slice through.”

“Dragging such a long thing around must be quite the hassle for you, Boss.”

“Wh-what the hell?!”
Rock struck the subordinate with a sharp crack.
“Quit the useless talk and floor it!”

The henchman’s face swelled up like a rubber ball in an instant, then he yanked the starter lever.
The Subterranean Locomotive let out a beast-like groan and slowly began to move.—Sankichi nimbly leaped onto the vehicle’s rear.

The Subterranean Locomotive at Full Speed

Mud and rocks swirled and scattered in vortices, the tremendous roar making it seem as though one’s ears might go deaf.

Rock was near the entrance of the Subterranean Locomotive, facing away and hugging his knees.
He,

“Look! Look, look!”

kept growling incantations.

Sankichi painstakingly crawled forward.
He grabbed the end of the rope binding Rock’s ankle.

_Look! Look_, _look!_

He mimicked Rock’s soliloquy under his breath.

The end of the rope was swiftly tied to the Subterranean Locomotive’s iron grating.

“Can’t you make this thing go any faster, you dimwitted fool?!”

Rock kicked the subordinate operating the controls in the waist.

“Ow!”
“What are you doing, Boss…?”

“Y-You… dare defy me?!”

As Rock tried to stand up—having forgotten in that moment about the rope tied to his leg—no sooner had he risen than his foot became entangled in it, and in an instant, he lost his balance.

“Agh—!”

With that cry still hanging in the air, Rock’s body somersaulted out of the vehicle.

“Serves you right!”

As the subordinate sneered, the pistol barrel jabbed toward his nose—

“Wh—you…!”

“I’m Sankichi, the boy detective! Obediently face forward and keep driving the Subterranean Locomotive as is. And make it hurry to that scene!”

That “scene” had been Sankichi’s wild guess. Come to think of it, that would take them to just the right spot. Outside, Rock—dragged by the locomotive at full speed—had his eyes and mouth caked with mud as he gasped his last breath. The Subterranean Locomotive had been completely occupied by Mamma and the boy Sankichi!

Subterranean Din

“Will we make it?”

With the pistol barrel pointed forward, Sankichi spoke.

“Alright, only thirty seconds left!”

“Give it more speed!”

With a roaring sound, the Subterranean Locomotive sped through the pitch-dark underground.

Twenty seconds... ten... five....

“Even if the Subterranean Locomotive breaks down! Put on more speed!”

“It’s already at maximum output!”

“Push it beyond that limit!”

“Ugh... It’s no use!”

A white flash flickered three times sharply, striking their eyes like lightning.
With a deafening roar as if heaven and earth were collapsing, the Subterranean Locomotive recoiled like a rubber ball.
Kik-kik-kik!
Boom! Crash-crash-crash.
The terrifying din persisted.
Good grief—what in the world had happened?!

*

The next morning, all of Tokyo was in an uproar.
The ten-story Tokyo Department Store in Nihonbashi had vanished overnight.

After all, when dawn broke, a massive castle-like structure had completely vanished from the face of the earth—it was only natural for people to be astonished.

The people who had crowded together like a black mountain rubbed their eyes again and again, terrified out of their wits.

Department Store Building Disappearance Case!

The Vanished Building

While this commotion continued, a single spot on the vanished department store's lot began to bulge and shift.

“Oh—”
“Something’s coming out!”

As the crowd exclaimed, before their eyes rose something resembling the tip of a cannonball.
It swelled rapidly before their eyes, and a monstrous caterpillar-like entity resembling a small hill emerged.

“Whoa... a monster...!”

At that—the people scrambled to flee in a panicked rush.
However, eventually driven by morbid curiosity, the crowd slowly began to return.
When they looked, the lid of a strangely shaped object opened, and from within, wasn’t there a lovely boy’s face peeking out?

Then, a single car came rushing there like an arrow.
A crisp gentleman who emerged from within spotted the boy and approached briskly.

“Sankichi, that was a brilliant job.”

This was Sankichi’s Subterranean Locomotive emerging aboveground from the site of Tokyo Department Store.

“Ah, Professor Homura!”

It was none other than Sankichi’s mentor, Soroku Homura—the man he’d believed was still abroad until this very moment.

“What happened to Rock?”

“……”

The boy silently showed the end of a short rope.
That spot had been utterly shredded.
In that subterranean earthquake, the rope was severed; Rock was finally buried underground, the Subterranean Fiend transformed into a Subterranean Demon.
That was the path all who plot evil were doomed to tread.

The Blown-Upward Suicide Squad

“Professor, what on earth happened here?”

Sankichi turned a puzzled look toward the mentor.

“This?”
Homura smiled gently.
“This was Rock trying to collapse the Bank of Japan in Muromachi underground to steal gold coins, but he ended up mistakenly collapsing Tokyo Department Store instead.”
“That bastard used the Subterranean Locomotive to dig a huge hole beneath the department store in advance, then collapsed it with a timed bomb.”

Just as he was explaining this, Detective Matayemon Otsuji—from who knows where—arrived alongside Superintendent Ōeyama and the entire Suicide Squad.
His entire body was soaked through.

“Ugh, what a nightmare…”
“There was this huge earthquake, see? We got blown up from underground and landed right in that stinking ditch-mud river under Nihonbashi!”

Old Man Otsuji remained utterly oblivious to how the buried department store’s collapse had actually blasted them upward to safety through recoil—his conviction that it had all been a massive quake remained textbook Otsuji logic through and through.

While the Bank of Japan had been spared, excavating the collapsed Tokyo Department Store would prove no small challenge.
They’d likely need to trouble the Subterranean Locomotive’s services again for that task someday soon.