Pathway to Japanese Literature

The First Page of the Mysterious Incident

Little did Haruki Kiyoshi know that this day marked the first page of that major incident.

Looking back later, it seems as though a great force of fate had been relentlessly pulling Haruki Kiyoshi toward that moment all day long.

It felt as though a series of strange coincidences had mysteriously piled up and occurred - but all of them were undoubtedly part of young Kiyoshi's destiny.

That bizarre and mysterious incident merely revealed the barest glimpse of its opening on that day which would become its first page. If young Haruki Kiyoshi had been able to foresee even half the scale, depth, intensity, and dread of this incident at that moment, he would have steered clear of any involvement. So colossal was this terror—this grandly orchestrated calamity—that not only was it beyond any boy's ability to handle, but he would inevitably be dragged into mortal peril.

Well, let us leave these preliminary remarks here and speak of how Haruki Kiyoshi came to set foot upon the first page of that incident.

That day, Haruki Kiyoshi was taking advantage of a Sunday to go mountain climbing with his classmate Ushimaru Heitarou—a sturdily built boy he’d recently befriended at school. The climb consisted of ascending to the summit of Kannuki Mountain, located deep within the Shibahara Water Source Area. Haruki Kiyoshi had come to this town only about a month prior. Before that, he had been in Tokyo. This town was a Kansai port town.

The detailed circumstances would be explained at a later time, so they wouldn't be described here, but Haruki Kiyoshi had suddenly been entrusted to his aunt's home in this port town due to family matters. Then Kiyoshi transferred to the nearby Yukimi Middle School. He was a third-year student.

For a time he had felt quite lonely, but by now Kiyoshi had become completely accustomed. Not only had he made cheerful friends like Ushimaru-kun at school, but he had also discovered the joy of venturing deep into the mountain ranges stretching behind the port town, roaming through the hills whenever he had time.

That day, Kiyoshi reached the summit of Kannuki Mountain around noon together with Hei-chan Ushimaru. There they ate their lunch, then played to their hearts' content in the grounds of an abandoned temple nearby, and then around 3 PM, the two set off on their return journey. Since autumn days grow completely dark by around six o'clock, if they left the summit at 3 PM, by the time they reached the foothills and entered town, both the town and harbor should be fully lit—but they had lingered too long playing on the mountain and ended up late.

So there, the two boys decided to race each other down the mountain. Descending Kannuki Mountain and nearing the Shibahara Water Source Area, there was a spot where a beautiful waterfall cascaded over a mountain stream. This waterfall is said to be called Ikoma Falls. The characters are probably written as Ikoma Falls. There were two descending paths leading from Kannuki Mountain. They were the East Path and the West Path. These two paths met slightly before Ikoma Falls and merged into one. And so Haruki Kiyoshi and Ushimaru Heitarou took separate paths and started their race with a promise to meet before Ikoma Falls to see which of them would reach it first.

“I’m absolutely sure the East Path’s faster! “I’m taking the East Path.” Ushimaru declared. “Hmm, not so sure... “Then I’ll dash down the West Path and beat you to the waterfall!” With Ushimaru having claimed the East Path, Haruki Kiyoshi reluctantly chose the West Path instead. This choice would hurl Haruki Kiyoshi headlong into the mysterious incident. Had Ushimaru picked the West Path at that critical moment, he would’ve been the one colliding with strangeness instead.

The two boys split left and right on "one-two-three" and started their descent down the mountain. The autumn sun still blazed fiercely. Yet it hung much lower in the sky. Haruki Kiyoshi whistled as he swung his handmade staff, plunging downward through the slopes. Though faint unease prickled at him, each glimpse of the distant coastal town and sea from mountain ledges sent fresh energy coursing through his limbs. Nearly two hours later, he finally came within earshot of Ikoma Waterfall's thunderous roar.

Hmm, was I first? Or had Ushimaru-kun won? After all, Ushimaru-kun was a boy born in this land, so he knew the lay of the mountain well. So I didn't stand a chance.

For that reason, Haruki wasn’t confident. However, in reality, it was Haruki who arrived much earlier. Ushimaru Heitarou had been delayed along the way. The reason was that on the East Path, the log bridge had collapsed midway, forcing him to take a lengthy detour. In truth, while the East Path had been the shorter route, due to an unexpected road obstruction, Ushimaru ended up arriving at the scene a full thirty minutes later than Haruki Kiyoshi.

And that thirty-minute delay wrought a profound divergence upon the fates of both boys. What exactly had transpired? Haruki Kiyoshi, oblivious to everything, reached Ikoma Waterfall,

"Got it! It's my win. Ushimaru-kun still hasn't arrived, has he?" he muttered to himself and surveyed his surroundings. The waterfall crashed down with a booming roar, like many large drums being struck all at once. Haruki removed his hat and wiped his sweat.

The autumn leaves and maple trees were beautiful.

“Huh?!” The boy widened his eyes.

On the path slightly past the waterfall, someone was lying collapsed. It was a man wearing black Western-style clothes.

(What happened here?) Because something seemed off, Kiyoshi cautiously approached the spot. Then something unpleasant came into view. The man in Western clothes lay face down, his tightly clenched hands a deep crimson. Blood. Blood.

"Is he dead?" When the boy turned pale and focused his eyes again, the bloodied hand of the man in Western clothes twitched slightly and clawed at the ground.

The Seriously Injured Old Man “Ah—that person’s alive!” The boy shouted. After shouting, he forgot all fear and rushed to the bloodstained man in Western clothes’ side, dropping to his knees, “Hello? Stay strong. What happened to you? Where were you injured?” he called out.

At that moment, the boy realized this blood-soaked man was quite elderly. His face bore a thick, unkempt beard, and his black hunting cap had come off, exposing hair that had been dyed white—appearing black at first glance but starkly white at the roots. Near where the hunting cap had come off lay a pair of glasses with brown-tinted lenses.

The old man raised his face with a pained expression and twisted it toward Haruki. However, after just one glance at Haruki, he let his face drop heavily to the ground. Gathering all his strength, he seemed to confirm who had called out to him. The old man began to groan lowly.

“Stay strong. Where are you injured?”

With that, Haruki continued shouting as he lifted the old man.

He understood.

The old man's chest was bright red. A great deal of blood had flowed onto the ground. The wound had been caused by a bullet. The bullet had entered from the base of the left neck, pierced through the upper part of the right lung, and exited under the arm—a grievous wound—but Haruki Kiyoshi lacked the ability to discern such details clearly. However, the presence of the wound was clearly visible even to him, so he thought he had to quickly bind it. He had nothing to bind it with. If only I had bandages, but I don’t have anything like that.

What should I do? That's it. In this situation, there's no choice but to use the shirt under my clothes and the hand towel. Haruki Kiyoshi was a boy of action. Once resolved, he first laid the old man back as he was, then hurriedly stripped off his clothes, removed his striped shirt, ripped it into long strips with a tearing sound, and connected the ends together. He tore the hand towel too and joined it to the rest. "This should work. There, done. Old man, stay strong. I'll put a temporary bandage on your wound now."

Saying this, Haruki lifted the old man again and turned him face up.

The old man expelled something red from his mouth. It was because his chest had been injured. The boy suppressed his despair, repeatedly encouraging the old man as he wound the bandage around and around the wound.

In the meantime, while the old man gasped painfully, opening and closing his eyes, when the wound treatment administered by the boy had finished and he was quietly laid back on the ground,

“Ah… thank you. Ch… child of God…” In a hoarse voice barely above a whisper, the old man thanked Haruki. His throat gurgled wetly then—a thick stream of red foam spilling from his lips like molten wax.

“You mustn’t speak. You have a chest wound.” The old man nodded faintly.

Well, what should I do now? “I’ll go down the mountain and bring someone here. It must be painful, but please hold on a little longer.” With that, Haruki stood up from the old man’s side and tried to run toward the foot of the mountain, but at that moment, the old man let out a loud cry. “Please wait!”

“Huh?!” “Please come closer.” “What is it? If you keep talking so much, you’ll start bleeding again.”

Haruki kneeled beside the old man.

“It’s... it’s over for this old man.” “To repay your kindness—you must accept this.” “I’ll retrieve the token of my gratitude now—look away for a moment.” “I don’t need any repayment.” “It wasn’t anything worth thanking.” “No—this debt must be settled.” “If this old man dies now, none will remain to unlock the vast fortune’s secret.” “You must inherit it.” “What name do you bear?”

The old man gasped painfully and spewed red bubbles as he spoke to the boy. Whether this claim was true or false remained unclear, but it was undeniably significant. “I’m Haruki Kiyoshi.” “Haruki Kiyoshi.” “That’s a good name.” “To Haruki Kiyoshi-kun, I bequeath what I valued next to my own life.” “Kiyoshi-kun.” “I’m sorry, but could you turn me face-down once more?” The boy Haruki did as the old man instructed.

“Kiyoshi-kun. Turn aside until I say it’s okay.” The old man said something strange. However, the boy did as he was told.

The old man brought his trembling hand to his eye. Then he began massaging around his right eye with his fingertips. Before long, a white sphere was being lifted by the old man's fingertips. Though egg-sized, it was no egg - one side bore a black spot.

It was an artificial eye. It was the artificial eye that had been in the old man’s right eye. “There. I present this to Kiyoshi-kun.”

The old man extended the eerie gift toward Haruki.

What on earth was this? Had the old man gone mad?

The boy Haruki had no idea it was an artificial eye; thinking it might be an egg or a stone, he accepted it.

The Artificial Eye He Received “What is this? What kind of value does this have?” The boy rolled the old man’s artificial eye on his palm while regarding it suspiciously. At that moment, amidst the roar of the waterfall, another sound began to intrude. Vroom—a mechanical sound. The boy Haruki hadn’t noticed yet, but the old man had—and was shocked. “Oh, Kiyoshi-kun. “They’re coming this way—the villains! “You—take that quickly and hide in a cave or rock shadow! “Quickly! Quickly! “Hurry, or you won’t make it! “And be careful—make absolutely sure your figure can’t be seen from the sky. “Now. Quickly…”

“What’s wrong?” “Why are you so panicked…?”

“The gang of villains who tried to kill me are coming here! If they spot you, they’ll harm you too. Remember this well. Don’t show yourself until those scoundrels leave! Don’t move a muscle! Never forget you’re carrying what this old man entrusted to you! Now hide—quick!” The old man kept shouting like a madman.

The boy Haruki thought that if the gravely injured old man kept shouting like that any longer, it would hasten his death. Therefore, thinking that quickly hiding in a rock shadow or somewhere as the old man instructed would be for the old man’s sake, he stood up.

But there were many things he needed to ask the old man.

“What should I do with this egg-like thing?”

“N-now, open it up.” “Hide quickly!” “Can’t you hear that sound getting closer from the sky?” “Quickly! Quickly!”

Upon being told this, the boy Haruki became aware. A thunderous noise pressed down from overhead. But there remained one more thing he needed to ask the old man.

“Old man. What’s your name?” “Are you still dawdling there?” The gravely injured old man shouted in irritation. “My name is Togura.” “Togura?” “I’m Togura Yasomarou. Hide quickly! At once! If you don’t, you’ll lose your life. The world-class treasure will be stolen. Jump into the hole quickly! There’s a hole around there. But be careful…”

The old man's voice sounded like a wail. Haruki decided it would be wrong to distress him further now. He sprinted toward where the dying man had gestured. A massive boulder stood there. This lay opposite the waterfall's plunge pool.

When he jumped into the shadow of the rock, something astonishingly large came swirling down overhead.

It was a helicopter. It had a large horizontally rotating propeller shaped like a bamboo dragonfly and was a bamboo-dragonfly-style aircraft with another small propeller attached separately. The helicopter, as if floating in mid-air, halted its forward motion; it was an aircraft capable of freely ascending and descending vertically. Therefore, it could take off without a runway and also land on narrow rooftops. A helicopter of that sort suddenly swirled down from the sky where evening dusk was thinly gathering, startling the boy Haruki.

Why was that? What purpose could that helicopter possibly have for swirling down here? Was this helicopter what Old Man Togura had been fearing? The boy Haruki crouched in the shadow of the rock and observed the scene. The helicopter descended vertically.

And suddenly, the surroundings became as bright as day. The helicopter had directed its searchlight toward the ground.

Ah! The boy Haruki clung to the rock. A glaring light shone down on the boy Haruki's left shoulder.

The boy, sensing danger somehow, quietly shifted his body to the right, attempting to evade the helicopter’s searchlight.

However, the searchlight seemed to be pursuing him. Haruki, pressed tightly against the rock, shifted his body toward the right. Then, he suddenly lost his balance. The soil he was stepping on with his right foot crumbled, and he missed his footing. There was a hole concealed by grass. His body swayed unsteadily to the right. Before he could even utter “Ah!”, his body plunged into the hole. He stretched out both hands and tried to grab the rock, but it was no use.

The boy’s body plunged deep downward and was eventually slammed against the bottom. The soil was relatively soft, but he slammed his buttocks hard against it, let out a pained "Ugh," and lost consciousness.

Beside the unconscious boy lay the mysterious artificial eye that Old Man Togura had handed over. And the pupil of the artificial eye stared at the round opening of sky above, as though it possessed sight.

Aerial Spectacle

The boy Haruki, who had fallen into the hole and lost consciousness, was unable to witness the dramatic spectacle that unfolded on the ground immediately afterward. Truly, the curtain fell on a drama he could never have imagined. From the helicopter, suddenly—rat-tat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat-tat—intense machine gun fire erupted. Bullets poured down like rain around where Old Man Togura lay collapsed. When the bullets reached the ground and struck stones, glinting sparks flew, dancing like living creatures in the twilight gloom. However, the bullets only fell around Old Man Togura and did not pierce his body.

“Whoa! What’s happening?!”

On the road facing the waterfall basin, a boy's figure appeared. It wasn't Haruki. It was the boy Ushimaru. He had finally arrived at Ikoma Waterfall now. He still couldn't comprehend the situation unfolding around him. Therefore, without sensing any danger to himself, he stood rooted in the middle of the road and gazed curiously at the dance of sparks.

But after a moment, he noticed the figure of Old Man Togura lying collapsed. Then, jolted by the ferocity of the subsequent gunfire, he suddenly sensed the danger to himself.

“Ah, ah! This is bad!” The boy Ushimaru twisted his body around and nimbly climbed the large persimmon tree beside him. Ushimaru was exceptionally skilled at climbing trees. Therefore, without a second thought, he scrambled up a persimmon tree or something like that. That was not a fortunate thing for him.

At that moment, the helicopter had reached directly above Old Man Togura. A hole opened in the bottom of the fuselage, and from it swayed down a single rope. Then sliding down the rope came a man descending swiftly. At that moment the rope's end touched ground. The man was armored in khaki-colored work clothes. Both this man and the collapsed Old Man Togura stood bathed in the searchlight's beam.

The old man lay motionless as if dead.

The boy Ushimaru clung to a persimmon branch, gazing in astonishment at this spectacle.

The man in work clothes finally set foot on the ground. He released the rope and ran toward Old Man Togura. Then he knelt down and began examining the old man’s body. For his sake, the old man’s body was flipped over two or three times, faceup then facedown. After a moment, the man in work clothes stood up, waved his hand, and gestured as if signaling to the helicopter above. From the helicopter’s fuselage window, a man leaned out his upper body and waved his hand downward in a signal.

The man below seemed to understand. After extending both arms out to the sides in response to the signal, he took hold of the rope's end, approached Old Man Togura, and wound the rope around and around the old man's body to bind him tightly. Then he hung onto the rope above Old Man Togura. As if that were a signal, the rope began winding up rapidly toward the helicopter. The helicopter floated in midair, hovering motionlessly. The boy Ushimaru watched this spectacle dumbfounded from atop the persimmon tree.

However, the man in work clothes suddenly released one hand and pointed at the persimmon tree where the boy Ushimaru was clinging. Then a powerful searchlight abruptly flared, illuminating the boy Ushimaru’s entire body.

“Whoa!” “I can’t take this!” Ushimaru Heitarou was a born optimist who didn’t scare easily, but just this once, he thought he might die. The eyes darkened, and he could no longer breathe. He clung desperately to the persimmon tree branch with both hands and feet. The eyes had completely lost the ability to distinguish anything. On the persimmon tree, the eyes could not see. When Ushimaru realized the helicopter’s sound was fading into the distance, he muttered to himself. He thought this would make a haiku.

At this moment, the eyes finally began to make out faint shapes.

“They really put me through the wringer.”

He cautiously slid down from the persimmon tree.

The boy Ushimaru had been wandering around before the waterfall for nearly an hour. In the pitch darkness, he groped about searching the area. “Heeey! Haruki-kun! Haruki-kun!” he called out dozens of times, shouting his friend’s name. Yet no response reached his ears. During this time, he also went to investigate where the collapsed person had lain. There he saw what looked like bloodstains—darkened patches staining the ground.

"Who could have been lying there—the person who had collapsed?"

He couldn’t grasp the situation. It might have been a rescue operation by helicopter, but before that, he had heard something like intense gunfire. It was because he had heard that sound that he had climbed up the persimmon tree in surprise. He later reflected on this and smiled wryly at the thought: "What a panicky fool I was back then." When Haruki-kun still hadn’t come no matter how long he waited, after about an hour had passed, the boy Ushimaru went down the river on his own.

Ushimaru knew nothing; something strange had occurred there. Neither the old man's hat nor glasses—which had scattered away from Old Man Togura's body—remained at the scene afterward. Still, who could those aboard the helicopter—the ones who had taken away the critically injured Old Man Togura—have been? They didn't seem to be rescuers who had come for the old man. If they had been rescuers, Old Man Togura would never have shown such terror before Haruki.

Then, could that helicopter have been carrying people who were adversaries to Old Man Togura?

This blood-soaked, mystery-filled scene set against Ikoma Waterfall would prove to be the first act of the bizarre and fantastical "Golden Medal Incident"—the very case that would soon thrust Haruki Kiyoshi into worldwide renown as the Boy Chief Detective.

Escape from the Pit

The boy Haruki Kiyoshi, who had fallen into the pit beneath the rocky ledge, came to his senses while Ushimaru-kun still remained nearby. He distinctly heard Ushimaru-kun's voice calling out to him. There in the pit, he called back. He shouted Ushimaru-kun's name repeatedly to signal his location. Yet Ushimaru-kun kept searching everywhere else without ever nearing the pit where Haruki lay trapped.

Eventually, Ushimaru gave up, left the front of Ikoma Waterfall, and made his way down the path leading to the foothills.

Left behind and now alone in the pit, Haruki’s surroundings gradually darkened. He looked around while rubbing his bottom. “Ah! That sphere!” He found Old Man Togura’s artificial eye lying nearby and hurriedly picked it up. “What is this? What a strange thing this is. Oh my, it looks like an eyeball. It’s glaring this way. It’s so creepy.” Because it was too unsettling, he put it into his pocket.

_Alright_, _I have to find a way to climb out of this empty well._ When he looked around，there was a horizontal hole at the bottom of the empty well. It was just barely large enough for someone to crawl through. But feeling uneasy，Haruki didn’t want to enter. He stood up. He looked upward and checked everything，but no rope—or anything else—hung down from above. The depth seemed about fourteen or fifteen meters. _If only these dirt walls were soft all the way up._ _And if only there were something here to dig with._ _Wait—I’ve got my knife._ _I’ll use this._

Haruki Kiyoshi conceived the idea of digging footholds into the earthen walls of the empty well and climbing up through them. He promptly set to work on this plan. Though it proved a painstaking task, the boy doggedly carved footholds into the dirt wall one after another until finally managing to escape the pit. "Thank goodness," he muttered. Haruki heaved a deep sigh and scanned his surroundings. Everything lay shrouded in absolute darkness. From within that ink-black void, only the waterfall's roar reverberated endlessly, heightening the eerie atmosphere.

As it was a clear night, only the stars sparkled brightly in the sky. However, by starlight alone, he couldn’t distinguish between the path and where there was none. He concluded he had no choice but to give up on descending the mountain until morning. If he tried to force his way down now, he risked slipping and tumbling into the valley below.

"There's no helping it. Tonight, I'll camp out listening to the waterfall's roar." Haruki plopped down onto the grass. Once he resolved himself to it, camping out wasn't entirely without its appeal. Still, come tomorrow, the aunts would surely scold him, but there was nothing to be done about it. Haruki suddenly realized he was hungry. He checked his pockets, but there was nothing except that strange sphere. He had eaten everything.

Before long, the cold set in. In the November mountains of autumn, the temperature plummeted as night deepened. “Ah, I’m cold.” “This is unbearable.” “I can endure hunger, but this cold is unbearable.” “Isn’t there anything I can do?” “Oh! That’s right.” “I have a lighter!” In preparation for such situations, he remembered that he had a fuse-style lighter in his pants pocket. “That’s it.” “I should light a fire with the lighter, gather dry branches, and steadily build up the bonfire.” The boy perked up.

The fuse-style lighter only ignited like charcoal embers without producing a candle-like flame. He knew this well, but remembered having previously created flames by bringing combustible thread scraps near the fuse's ember and blowing gently on them to make them blaze up fiercely. He would employ that experience tonight. He tore some lining from his clothes to create makeshift thread scraps and succeeded in igniting them with the lighter's fuse. The flame blazed up fiercely, raising red tongues of fire. He transferred this flame to a clump of dead grass. The fire grew larger. This time he transferred it to dead branches. The flames intensified further. From then on he faced no more difficulties. The bright, warm bonfire roared fiercely.

Having grown warm and with the area now brightened, Haruki Kiyoshi completely regained his energy. He gathered a large amount of dead branches from nearby. _I'm okay now._

As he warmed himself by the fire, he began to feel sleepy. It seemed the fatigue from daytime was catching up to him. However, he realized that if he fell asleep there, the bonfire would go out and he would catch a cold. Therefore, he had to devise some way to avoid falling asleep. He thought.

“That’s it. I should examine the sphere I received earlier from the old man Togura.” This was the perfect task for the situation. The boy took the sphere from his pocket. Holding it up to the fire, he slowly examined the object for the first time.

“Yikes! This is an eyeball. That’s disgusting!” A chill ran down his spine, and he let the eyeball fall from his hand. It rolled clatteringly across the ground before coming to rest near the bonfire. “Wait—that doesn’t seem like a real eyeball.” He gasped. “Ah! Right—it must be an artificial eye!” Realizing how needlessly panicked he’d been, he found the whole situation absurd and burst into solitary laughter.

“Ah! The eyeball’s about to burn over there!” “Oh no, oh no!” He hurriedly grabbed a smoldering branch and retrieved the artificial eye from beside the bonfire. “Ah! Hot hot hot!” The artificial eye had grown hot and scorched his hand. The artificial eye fell from his hand to the ground once more. Then, it split cleanly in two down the middle.

It could be said that this turn of events was fortunate for Haruki Kiyoshi, the boy. For unless it had been exposed to fire, opening this artificial eye would have been exceedingly difficult—in other words, this artificial eye was a sort of secret compartment. Opening this sphere would have required nearly a week of careful consideration no matter what one tried. The boy had fortunately scorched that spherical secret compartment near the fire, causing the internal mechanism to disengage naturally; when he dropped it from his hand onto the ground a second time, it split cleanly in two. However, Haruki Kiyoshi, the boy, was surprised by this and blinked his eyes.

"Oh. There's something inside here! Ah! That’s it. So that’s what it was. It seems what that old man said wasn’t a lie after all."

It was immense wealth. It was a world-class treasure. What on earth could it be?

Haruki Kiyoshi reached out and took the split artificial eye of old man Togura, examining it. “Ah… so this was what was inside.”

Inside the artificial eye was something wrapped in a silk-like cloth. Inside, there was something hard.

When he opened the silk cloth, what emerged from inside was a flat, crescent-shaped metal plate. It was quite heavy. And it glinted brightly with a yellow glow even in the dark. On its surface was a person's face in profile, carved in low relief, and surrounding it were a chain and an anchor. When he turned it over, there were several lines of strange characters written horizontally carved there. But what country's script this was—he had never seen anything like it before. Rather than an ancient script, they more closely resembled phonetic symbols.

"It looks like half a gold coin, but could there really be such a large gold coin?" "It’s a strange thing altogether." "What on earth could this be?" He held up the glittering golden medal—split cleanly in two—to the fire with a puzzled expression and examined it repeatedly. "I can’t read these characters anyway—and with only half of it—there’s nothing I can do with this... But even so... Could this really have anything to do with that world-class immense fortune like that old man mentioned?"

Although he had gone through the trouble of receiving it, to Haruki Kiyoshi, the boy, this remained utterly incomprehensible—he couldn't make sense of it.

Now then... what would happen next.

At that moment, a gust of mountain wind swept in, scattering dead leaves and blowing the bonfire’s flames sideways with a crackling pop. Then, right in front of the boy, something suddenly flared up and began burning.

“Oh no!”

That was the piece of silk that had been wrapped around this crescent-shaped golden medal. It was then that Haruki Kiyoshi noticed for the first time there was writing on it. The fire was trying to consume the handkerchief-like silk cloth in one gulp. Startled, the boy thrust his hand into the flames, pulled out the burning silk scrap, and stamped on it with his shoe.

The fire finally went out.

“Phew. “A little more and everything would have burned up completely.”

What remained unburned was a portion slightly smaller than half of the silk handkerchief. On it were finely written Japanese characters. The boy picked up the characters and began to read them, but with about half having burned away, the text remained disconnected.

But the boy gathered whatever characters he could read. But suddenly stiffening his face, “Ah! This is serious!” he shouted. His body suddenly began trembling violently and wouldn’t stop. Why was this happening?

What on earth had been written on that charred remnant of silk cloth? And what kind of secret was the crescent-shaped golden medal itself hiding?

In the deep mountains, a wind suddenly arose. Sparks from the bonfire danced up into the dark sky.

Rokuten Mountain Stronghold

Now then, where had the helicopter that abducted old man Togura flown off to?

The helicopter skimmed over mountains shrouded in twilight, taking a bizarre course—now north, now east, now west—as it gradually penetrated deeper into the remote peaks.

After flying for about an hour, the helicopter descended slowly through the darkness and eventually touched down precisely.

What kind of scenery surrounded that place, and what was the terrain of that airfield like? None of this was visible to the naked eye. After all, the sun had completely set, and it was a night so dark one couldn’t distinguish black from white. Only the Milky Way alone flowed faintly bright across the sky above.

This helicopter was equipped with a sophisticated radar system, so locating the landing area and safely touching down in the pitch-black night posed no difficulty. The radar system was a device that used ultra-short waves to probe terrain, measure altitude, and determine distances to targets—serving as invaluable eyes for aircraft during nighttime operations.

In this manner, the helicopter landed safely. Moreover, it undoubtedly returned to Rokuten Mountain Stronghold.

What exactly was Rokuten Mountain Stronghold?

A detailed account of this mountain stronghold will not be provided here. Instead, it would be better to follow the helicopter and document the current state of the stronghold.

As the helicopter landed safely, a blue signal light was flashed from the cockpit. Then, with a thunderous roar, the ground began to move. With the helicopter still on board, the ground slid sideways. It was an elaborate moving runway. It was a five-meter-wide runway assembled from slender iron pieces, power-driven to slide sideways like a belt conveyor system. And so the helicopter was sucked into the large cave entrance that had been opened in the mountainside.

And then shortly after, the moving runway came to a stop. Near the rear cave, a clanging sound echoed as an iron door shut. When the sound ceased, a dazzling beam of light suddenly shone down from above the helicopter. The interior of the cave entrance became clearly visible in that instant. It was a newly constructed large factory—this single building they had entered. There was no earthy odor; instead, a sweet, oily fragrance filled the air. The walls and ceiling were painted a bright yellow and appeared sturdy. Only the floor created an uncanny atmosphere with a camouflaged steel moving runway running through its center.

Five or six burly-armed men who had surrounded the helicopter clattered into action, brandishing pistols and light machine guns as they kept their vigilant gazes fixed on the aircraft's occupants. Their clothing varied haphazardly between suits and work uniforms.

Then the aircraft door opened, and a long-haired man showed his face. He waved his hand and, “It’s fine. That guy doesn’t have any strength left to struggle,” he said.

This was the man who had descended from the helicopter via a rope ladder in front of Ikoma Waterfall and picked up old man Togura. Known as Namitachi Ni, he was a man of considerable influence within this mountain stronghold.

At that moment, a middle-aged man came running out from the back and called out to Namitachi Ni. “Hey. Is Togura still alive? Check his heartbeat,” Kido said with a worried look. “The pulse isn’t strong.” “But he’s still alive.” “You didn’t give him any new wounds, did you?” “If that’s the case, the Leader’s gonna be pissed, you know.” “Hmph, Mr. Kido, no need to worry.” “Do you think I’d make such a blunder?” “When it comes to marksmanship—”

“Then that’s fine. I’ll bring a stretcher, so leave him as he is.”

The middle-aged man called Kido took on a relieved expression and looked back. A team carrying a stretcher could be seen filing out from the stopped elevator. Among them was one unusually tall figure. His neck was long, truly like that of a crane. His face was severely uneven, resembling weathered rock, and his nose jutted forward like a triangular pyramid. The other prominent features were the large eyes beneath thick eyebrows. Beneath his nose grew a thin mustache. He was emaciated like dried stockfish. And over his suit, he wore a long, pure white overcoat, strode briskly over in large steps, and without a word climbed onto the helicopter.

He emerged immediately. And standing before Kido, he looked down at him with a look that seemed to demand speech.

“How is it, Dr. Tsukue?” Kido looked up at Dr. Tsukue’s diminutive face with urgent expectation. “Hmm, the Leader’s fortune shines bright indeed. “That wounded fool wouldn’t last an hour under any renowned physician’s care—save mine.” Dr. Tsukue delivered this verdict with clinical detachment, his features impassive. “Then he’ll survive?” Kido’s cheeks flushed crimson. “Have him treated at once. “The Leader wants Togura dragged before him immediately—but tell me straight, how many hours until interrogation becomes feasible?”

“By ordinary standards, three weeks.” “I only need to know how much time you can commit to this.” “If this Dr. Tsukue administers treatment, it’ll be six hours from now.” “Then this doctor accepts.” “Good—I’ll count on you then.” “I’ll report this to the Leader.” “For the next six hours—no matter what happens—it’s impossible.” “Tell them not a single word can be extracted.” “The bullet missed his heart by a hair’s breadth but shredded his lungs.” “If he tries to speak, blood and foam come bubbling out.” “Normally he’d already be dead.” “But someone stuffed makeshift gauze—not real gauze, just cloth—into the wound and wrapped it skillfully.” “For him, this was luckier than even our Leader’s fortune.”

Dr. Tsukue spoke on his own. “We’ll perform the surgery here, so I’d like anyone who isn’t medical staff to leave.”

“Huh? You’re doing it here, Dr. Tsukue?” “That’s right,” said Dr. Tsukue. “How could anyone move a patient in such critical condition? Even if it’s cramped, there’s no helping it.” “The electricity is ready.” A subordinate signaled. Dr. Tsukue crawled back into the helicopter seat.

The Male-Attired Leader

On that same night, continuing from earlier—to be precise, at five minutes past 2 AM.

Shima Kenshaku, the leader holding command authority over this Rokuten Mountain Stronghold, was now to meet with the gravely wounded old man Togura. Old man Togura, still securely fastened to the wheelchair, was carried into the special room where Leader Shima waited. Beside him stood Dr. Tsukue, maintaining his position like a utility pole battered by the wind. The Leader leisurely rose from his chair, pushed aside the curtains, and approached old man Togura.

His appearance was bizarre.

Shima Kenshaku stood nearly six feet tall. His massive obesity gave him a physique that could rival a yokozuna grand champion. He swathed his imposing frame in a Chinese robe with floor-length hems. Both hands disappeared completely within the garment’s voluminous sleeves. A golden dragon sprawled across the robe in intricate embroidery. The design’s magnificence compelled involuntary reverence from those who saw it.

Shima Kenshaku's face was not visible. This was because he wore a large hat-shaped crown on his head, from whose brim hung triple-layered curtains of black gauze that completely concealed his face, leaving only the very tip of his chin visible.

“Hey, Togura.” “Let’s settle this quickly tonight.” Leader Shima addressed old man Togura in a thick, oppressive voice.

Togura, his face pale, leaned his head against the wheelchair's backrest and maintained stubborn silence. There was no telling whether he had died or simply fallen asleep; his eyes remained hidden behind brown-tinted glasses, showing no sign of being open or shut, making any definitive judgment impossible.

“Hey, Togura. Aren’t you going to answer? Here I am trying to settle matters quickly tonight as a gesture of goodwill, yet you refuse to respond—this is outrageous!”

With that, Shima extended his long sleeves and tried to seize Togura’s shoulder to shake him.

“Hold it, Leader!” someone suddenly interjected. It was Dr. Tsukue. He stepped forward before the Leader. “Leader. This injured man you’ve entrusted to my care is miraculously alive! If you handle him roughly and this old codger suddenly dies, this doctor won’t take responsibility for it! I simply felt obliged to give you this one warning.” Dr. Tsukue dramatically conveyed, with exaggerated gestures like an actor, that old man Togura was completely exhausted.

“It appears your surgical skills have grown dull of late.” “Half of his lungs were shattered. I cut that out and temporarily connected an artificial lung in its place. If he removes it with his own hands, he’ll die instantly. Meaning he’d successfully commit suicide. That’s why we’ve tied him to the chair like this. Not because he’s unruly, mind you. This concludes my professional advisories as the responsible party.”

With that, Dr. Tsukue waved his hands and shifted his feet, explained old man Togura’s health condition—as fragile as a glass cup with cracks—then respectfully bowed to the Leader and stepped behind the wheelchair.

“Doctor. But this old codger isn’t incapable of speaking, is he?”

“When he was carried here, he was frothing bloody bubbles from his mouth, making speech impossible.” “However, now that I’ve administered treatment, he can speak.” “Of course, if he himself isn’t inclined to speak, he won’t—but that’s beyond the scope of this doctor’s duties.” It was as if he were saying—without actually voicing it—that whether old man Togura would respond or not depended entirely on the Leader’s skill.

“Hmph.” The Leader jerked his head up. “This leader only seeks to know what he wishes to know.” “Whether it be a persimmon tree, a human, or even the sun itself—this leader won’t let them stay silent.” “What’s more, these days this leader’s grown short-tempered—when some fool keeps dawdling, this leader feels like shoving his hand down their throat and moving their tongue himself to make them speak.” “Might be rough handling, but since this leader’s impatient by nature, there’s no helping it.”

Dr. Tsukue, Kido, and the other executives exchanged glances. Whenever the Leader said such things, he would invariably do something astonishing and startle his subordinates—this was the established pattern. Before that, he would establish a solid plan. Then he would steadily advance toward it. Therefore, he never failed to succeed. While appearing every bit the ruffian, in truth, he was a Leader who exercised meticulous care in all matters and left nothing to chance. The reason his subordinates couldn’t defy him lay precisely in that.

As it turned out, the events of that night held such grave significance that in later days, his subordinates would find themselves unable to stop recalling them time and again. The momentous event was indeed about to unfold before their very eyes.

“Hey Togura. Three lives have been sacrificed just to save your wretched hide and bring you here. It was this leader’s subordinate who shot down those two ruffians attacking you. Pitifully, he himself got shot and lost his life. Before dying, he used a portable wireless to report every detail to this leader. When his report ended, he died. I’ve lost a good subordinate because of you. This leader demands full recompense from you.”

“This old man has suffered plenty too.” “The feeling’s mutual.”

Togura Yasomarou spoke for the first time. His tone dripped with contempt.

“Hmph.” “Say whatever you like.” Leader Shima lightly brushed this off and took a step forward. “Therefore, this leader wishes to conclude our transaction.” “Hey, Togura.” “Hand over the golden crescent you’re holding.” The words Shima had bluntly hurled at old man Togura! That was a demand for a fragment of that Golden Medal. “I have no idea what you’re after.”

The old man said with mounting contempt.

“You... You...! Do you expect me to believe you don’t know about the golden crescent? The fact that you have it—we’ve got solid proof. You’d be better off handing it over quickly.” “This leader knows nothing of such things. Of course, this leader doesn’t possess it. No matter how many times you ask, I can only say the same.” Old man Togura’s tone had begun to fray slightly. Dr. Tsukue snapped open ampoules of injection medicine behind them.

“This leader won’t let you claim ignorance.” “Then behold this!”

Shima suddenly rolled up his long left sleeve with his right hand. The left wrist came into view. Between his thumb and index finger was a small, gleaming crescent-shaped object. It was a fragment of the Golden Medal. However/But this differed in shape from that fragment which Haruki was now holding. In other words, what Haruki was holding was undoubtedly a fragment—slightly larger than half—and when measuring the angle from the medal’s center about twenty degrees greater than 180 degrees. What Shima now pinched between his fingertips and showed was something smaller than half—shaped like a fan.

The Leader thrust it before Togura. “How about it? Can’t you see this?” “Ah! That’s it! Oh! You were the one who had it? Tch!” Old man Togura shouted in a shrill voice and tried to reach out his hand. However, his limbs were tightly bound to the wheelchair, making it impossible to reach out. He clicked his tongue in frustration, then suddenly snapped his mouth open and lunged to bite at the Golden Medal fragment the Leader held out.

“Whoa now, I can’t have you getting rough.” “Ha ha ha!”

The Leader pulled back the hand at the last moment. “Ha ha ha! You want this, do you? This leader might consider giving it to you—but first, hand over the other half you possess. Let this leader hold them for a week, and both will be returned to you intact. How about it? A fine bargain, no? Say yes!” At this moment, Togura went limp and let his head fall against the chair’s back. Whether his eyes were open or shut remained hidden behind brown glasses, but seeing how his shoulders heaved violently with each breath, old man Togura seemed to be enduring some indescribable torment. Of course, he never once responded to the Leader’s attempts to engage him.

“If you stay silent, I can’t know anything.” “This leader desires a swift transaction.” “Hey, Togura.” “Do you think this leader doesn’t know where you’re hiding the golden crescent?”

Hearing that, Old man Togura's body jolted rigid.

“Ha ha ha! It’s too late to panic now. I am short-tempered. What I want, I obtain without delay. First, I’ll start by removing this…” Shima’s hand shot out. No sooner had this registered than the brown glasses old man Togura had been wearing were in the Leader’s hand. The old man’s pale face, stripped of his glasses. Both eyes were tightly shut, his lips quivering violently.

“Heh heh heh. If you stay quiet, I’ve no intention of resorting to violence. What I require is that artificial eye you’ve inserted into your socket. Hand it over.”

“I will not allow this! I will never allow such a thing! You demon!” The old man appeared ready to erupt into violent thrashing, but the restraints binding his limbs clamped down firmly.

Shima looked down coldly at this, “Well now, your artificial eye was indeed on the right side, wasn’t it. “Hey, all of you—come here and press Togura’s head against the chair back.” Kido, Nami, and the other subordinates pounced on Togura and pressed him against the chair back as the Leader had ordered. Togura's hunting cap began to slip off. Shima stepped forward in front of him, extended his right hand, and went for Togura’s right eye. The X-ray shadow In the Leader’s hand rested Togura’s artificial eye.

“Hmph.” “So you had the gall to think this could serve as the golden crescent’s container.” “But now that it’s come to this—what a pity for you.” “I’ll be taking this with gratitude.” “Though it’s too soon for thanks.” “I must retrieve the crescent from within this…” The Leader supported the artificial eye between his fingertips and spun it around. However, he couldn’t figure out where or how to open the artificial eye. He had indeed inquired about the method of opening it from a certain individual, but whether he had misheard some part—even when he gripped the top and bottom of the artificial eye and twisted it left and right exactly as he remembered—it refused to open at all.

"(Tch—this is bad)," the Leader clicked his tongue mentally. Yet revealing this through his expression now would prove disadvantageous both toward Togura and his subordinates.

But the problem was not something that could be resolved with that. He needed to open this quickly. “Hey Kido.” “Bring a large sledgehammer.” “Bring it quickly!”

the Leader ordered.

After Kido answered “Yes” and withdrew, some time passed before he reappeared in this room. The group there let out a collective sigh of relief. After finishing the cardiotonic injection into old man Togura’s arm, Dr. Tsukue wiped his own fingertips with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, then sharply craned his neck and stretched. “Hey, Leader. If you engage in such rough handling one more time, I shall not be responsible for this person’s life. This is the second warning.”

Dr. Tsukue calmly declared. In response to this, the Leader remained silent. Dr. Tsukue hunched his shoulders.

At that moment, Kido returned. Kido handed the large-headed sledgehammer to the Leader.

“Is this all right?” “Yeah.”

The Leader placed the artificial eye on the table. Then gripping the sledgehammer in his right hand he raised it high and tried to bring it down upon the artificial eye. "Leader. Wait a moment." Then someone called out. It was Dr. Tsukue. The Leader made a displeased face and turned his head toward the doctor.

“Leader.” “You intend to smash open the artificial eye with a sledgehammer to examine its contents.” “But that would be ill-advised.” “The vital piece inside risks sustaining damage.” “Then what would you have me do?”

“That golden crescent you mention must be metallic.” “The artificial eye is resin.” “In which case, using this X-ray device to examine it would solve our problem effortlessly.” “X-rays penetrate resin readily but cannot penetrate gold.” “Thus, the golden crescent inside would cast a shadow and become clearly visible on the fluorescent screen.” “What say you?” “An excellent method, wouldn’t you agree?” Dr. Tsukue produced a portable X-ray device from behind him and set it on the table before the Leader. This was the same device they had previously used to examine Togura’s chest fracture.

“This is a brilliant plan! Now apply X-rays to this and show me.”

With that, the Leader made his request with unexpected compliance. “Very well, my lord.” Having said that, Dr. Tsukue plugged the long cord’s plug extending from the device into the power outlet. Then, with a click, he twisted the switch and adjusted the dial. Then, a beautiful fluorescence illuminated the square screen—about thirty centimeters across—that was equipped with a radiation shield. Dr. Tsukue inserted his hand between the fluorescent screen and the X-ray tube. Then, a skeletal wrist appeared on the fluorescent screen. It was Dr. Tsukue's hand.

“Preparations are complete,” said Dr. Tsukue. “Insert the artificial eye here. Then look through the fluorescent screen from this side—you’ll see it.” With that, Dr. Tsukue stepped aside and beckoned to the Leader. The Leader moved before the X-ray device and followed the doctor’s instructions precisely. The outline of Togura’s artificial eye materialized on the fluorescent screen—but not just the eye. The Leader’s right wrist appeared too, along with the thick banded ring adorning one finger.

"Ah!" The Leader shouted hoarsely and withdrew his hand. After a moment, the hand clutching the artificial eye reappeared. The ring was no longer on that finger. The Leader had quickly transferred it to his left hand.

“Do you see it? Can you see it?” asked Dr. Tsukue. “I don’t see anything crescent-shaped.” The Leader rotated the artificial eye repeatedly within the X-ray beam, but the prosthetic remained completely translucent, showing no dark shadow of a gold medal. “Ah, there are no metal fragments inside this,” Dr. Tsukue declared after peering at the screen from the side.

“But that’s impossible!” The Leader said in an angry voice, removed his hand from the X-ray device, and placed the artificial eye on the table. With a thunderous crash, the artificial eye was smashed by a sledgehammer. The Leader, flying into a rage, destroyed it. He had refused to believe the results detected by the X-ray device. Fragments scattered everywhere. Those around them let out a cry and covered their mouths.

However, all this revealed was that nothing had been hidden inside the artificial eye. “Ugh...” The Leader groaned.

Everyone remained silent for a while. It was the calm before the storm.

Then, suddenly, the Leader puffed out his shoulders and roared.

“Hey, Togura! Where did you hide the fragment of the Golden Medal?!” “I don’t know. No—even if I did know, I’d sooner die than tell a brute like you!” Togura Yasomarou opened his remaining eye wide and glared at Shima Kenshaku.

“What I want to know, I’ll make damn sure to find out.” “So that’s it.” “Your artificial eye was the other one all along!” With that, the Leader lunged at Togura again. His fingers went straight for Togura’s left eye.

Cat Woman

“Ah! That’s dangerous!” “Wait!”

The one who shouted was Dr. Tsukue. "It's dangerous!" he shouted in a loud voice. Then he abruptly grabbed the Leader’s wrist and pulled him back.

“Why are you stopping me?”

“Please wait! Togura’s remaining eye isn’t artificial. That’s a real eye. Even if you tried extracting it, could you even succeed? You’ll only diminish your standing. Leader—it’s your standing that’ll suffer!” Even so, the Leader kept his grip on Togura Yasomarou’s hair, refusing to let go. “Leader, look closely. You’ll see it’s a real eye if you examine the eyeball properly. The pupil reacts, and blood vessels run through it.”

With that, Dr. Tsukue shone the flashlight near Togura's eye. The Leader brought his face close to Togura's eye. He looked closely. He looked closely again and again. Apparently, this one was a real eyeball.

That was the moment. The Leader’s attention suddenly detached from Togura’s eyeball. He felt as if light from below was striking his face. It was exactly as he thought. A portion of light from the flashlight Dr. Tsukue held in his hand—whether by chance or design—had entered beneath the triple-layered veil obscuring the Leader’s face and was now illuminating his features from below. (Ah!)

At the same moment the Leader shouted “You insolent fool!”, the flashlight was knocked from Dr. Tsukue’s hand. Dr. Tsukue clutched his hand and recoiled backward. Blood dripped from his hand and splattered onto the floor. “Oh, it was your hand. I hadn’t noticed. Endure it.”

Because the Leader promptly expressed regret, the once murderous atmosphere in the room suddenly eased. “Hey Togura.” “Your stubbornness caused all this trouble.” “Spit out the hiding place already.” “Where are you keeping this half of the Golden Medal hidden?”

The Leader pinched half of the Golden Medal he had stored somewhere between his left fingers again and thrust it toward Togura. Togura kept glaring at the Leader, lips pressed into a taut line. “Hurry up and tell me.” “Hurry up and say it.”

That was the moment.

Suddenly, the lights in the room went out all at once. Darkness so thick you couldn’t tell if someone pinched your nose enveloped everyone present.

Just as they were about to shout “Ah!”—

“Move, and I’ll shoot.” “Don’t move.” “Turn on the light, and I’ll shoot.” “Don’t turn on the lights.” A shrill woman’s voice pierced through from a corner of the room. The woman shouldn’t have been there. Everyone wondered in bewilderment. The voice seemed to originate from behind where the Leader had stood—the opposite side of where they all clustered.

“Who are you? State your name!” The Leader’s voice pierced through the darkness. “Save your breath.” “I can see just fine in this darkness. If I decide to shoot, I’ll put a bullet right through the center of that heart of yours.” “I’m—”

As the woman was making her arrogant declaration, while the subordinates stood frozen, someone suddenly flicked on a flashlight.

And in the same instant, without a moment’s delay, a deafening gunshot rang out.

The flashlight shattered into a thousand pieces and scattered. “Ugh...” The heavy thud of someone collapsing. “Anyone—this is what happens. If you don’t obey me…”

Undoubtedly, it had been her swift work. Even so, how had that mysterious woman managed to infiltrate this room? It could only be called strange. The lights had gone out, and at that very moment, a woman's voice seemed to ring out. Until then, this room had been brilliantly illuminated. Under such conditions, how could she have possibly slipped into this room? One had to say she was like a woman made of invisible glass.

“Now then, to my business,” the woman’s voice was unnervingly composed.

“Hey there, Leader-san—hand over half of that Golden Medal you treasure so much to me without any fuss.” “You won’t refuse.” “I’d like your answer quickly, hmm?” “My, my. What a pathetic face you’re making.” “To me, that three-layered silk veil of yours might as well not exist—I can see your true face clear as day.” She was a woman who claimed to have eyes that could see in the dark. Being told this, Leader Shima was utterly flattened.

“That’s a lie.” “You can’t possibly see me!” The Leader’s voice pierced through. A mix of fury and terror made the ends of his words tremble audibly. “Now then—let’s set that aside. Hey, Leader-san. Hand over the Golden Medal quickly.” “Hey—answer me! Give me your answer…”

The Leader’s voice was heard after a while. “Don’t be ridiculous! Who’d hand it over?” Then, the woman let out a low, sinister chuckle.

“You’re quite the fool too. Before spouting such nonsense, you’d better look above your head.” “Take a good look, all of you!”

“What?!” The Leader looked up. “Ah! That’s…” About a meter above his head, there was a small object that shone clearly even in the darkness. After staring at it for a while, it became clear to everyone that this was half of the Golden Medal in question.

“That’s impossible!” said the Leader’s voice. “Ah! It’s gone.” “It’s gone… Half of the Golden Medal…” “When the hell did you steal it?!” “No commotions.” “Move, and I’ll shoot.” “I’m short-tempered, you see.” “Who the hell are you?!” “In pitch darkness where eyes can see—I am one called Cat Woman.” “Look! Your precious Golden Medal has started moving.” That was exactly the case. As Cat Woman had said, the Golden Medal began swaying gently through the air.

“Don’t reach out.” “I’ll finish you off with one shot.” Strange, strange—the golden medal glowing in the air flew through the sky. The whole group could only stare up in astonishment at its movement.

Before long, the golden medal flying through the air descended like a meteor, smooth and swift. The moment it did, the door slammed shut with a resounding bang.

“Ah!” The whole group ducked.

Then, the Leader’s booming voice exploded at the doorway.

“Damn it!” “She got away!” “She locked it from the other side!” “Hey! Turn on the lights!” “Turn on the flashlights!” “We’re fine.” “That woman left from here.” “And we’re trapped in this room.” The Leader shouted furiously. At that moment, the lights flashed on. Blindingly bright. Everyone looked. They saw the Leader gripping the handle of the door leading to the next room and groaning.

“Oh, Leader!”

“Everyone! Come here!” “Break this door open!” “Even if it breaks, no matter!” With that, the Leader released his grip on the door and pointed.

With that, the subordinates gathered and slammed into the door with a heavy thud. On the second, third, and fourth attempts, the lock gave way, and the door burst open to the other side.

“Now!” With the Leader at the forefront, the subordinates followed, leaping through into the next room.

Suddenly, the room fell silent. The only ones remaining were Dr. Tsukue, who resembled a crane with his emaciated frame, and old man Togura, bound to a wheelchair. The old man had lost consciousness. Dr. Tsukue looked up at the ceiling and shook his head.

“Hmm, how strange, I say. It can’t possibly be the work of monsters or spirits...” With a suspicious look on his face, he thrust both hands into his trouser pockets.

Midnight's Mysterious Sound

Now then, the story shifted back to Haruki Kiyoshi and Ushimaru Heitarou.

You are all surely aware that young Haruki spent that night building a campfire before Ikoma Waterfall. As for young Ushimaru—being familiar with this mountain path—he managed to grope his way through the dark trail and return to town. Ushimaru-kun was scolded by his parents. Since he had returned home so late，it was only natural that he would be scolded. He learned that Haruki-kun had not returned home and，just to be safe，went to the aunt’s house where Haruki was staying.

However, Aunt furrowed her brows, having been worried because Haruki-kun still hadn’t returned home.

After that, there was a huge commotion. Classmates and their guardians were summoned. The number grew to a little over twenty.

The entire group carried lanterns and flashlights, along with drums, wooden clappers, and flutes, as they climbed into the dark mountains. “Lost child, lost child! Haruki-kun!” Even as society advances, the calls to search for lost children have remained unchanged since ancient times. “Lost child, lost child! Haruki-kun!”

Boom-boom-boom, boom-boom-boom. Clack-clack, clack-clack!

The lively group climbed noisily up the mountain and discovered a campfire before Ikoma Waterfall. Drawing courage from this discovery, they approached and found Haruki-kun himself sleeping soundly by the flames in apparent comfort. They breathed a sigh of relief—thank goodness he was safe. The two boys were scolded once more, descended the mountain, and safely returned to their respective homes.

By the next day, word about the two boys had spread throughout town, escalating into such a commotion that their homeroom teacher came from school to investigate. Though typically carefree, both found themselves thoroughly cowed by the situation. Details of the Ikoma Waterfall incident had leaked from the boys' own accounts, eventually reaching the police station and prompting an official investigation. The two youths accompanied authorities to the scene as witnesses. Machine gun bullets were discovered at the site, but any bloodstains—likely washed away by rain—remained indistinct.

The helicopter flew in and executed an aerial hoisting feat, but this remained solely Ushimaru-kun’s account with no evidence to substantiate it. The next time they saw such a thing flying, they had only made an agreement to exercise caution. Haruki Kiyoshi never spoke of the golden medal and related matters entrusted to him by old man Togura. He never discussed it with Ushimaru either. He thought he wanted to conduct as thorough a personal investigation into this matter as possible, taking his time. Once that was done, it would be better to speak up. When the time came, he intended to tell Ushimaru too.

After all, according to what the dying old man Togura had left him with those words, the Golden Medal affair was an extraordinary secret—if he carelessly let slip any involvement with it even once, he believed it would undoubtedly lead to unforeseen terrible consequences. Indeed, that kind old man had sustained such gruesome near-fatal injuries, and following that came the ominous spectacle of his helicopter abduction as witnessed by Ushimaru—these facts made Haruki Kiyoshi cautious; this wasn't something to utter carelessly.

However, Haruki Kiyoshi could not forever keep strictly sealed away in his desk drawer's depths both the fragment of the Golden Medal—that key to a mystery-shrouded treasure—and the charred remnant of a silk handkerchief densely filled with small characters. On the third night after these events began, Haruki entered his study and firmly closed then locked its door before drawing curtains over its window; he then retrieved and opened under his desk lamp's light that package containing what were called two treasure keys. The glittering crescent-shaped gold fragment and burnt portion of silk handkerchief both remained intact.

"Ah, they're still here." Haruki pressed a hand to his chest. He chuckled softly. I must have become strangely neurotic since that incident. This thing means nothing. It's just like a toy. That old man Togura or whatever his name was - maybe he'd gone mad after all. He found himself in an entirely opposite frame of mind as he stared mockingly at the two treasure keys. "But is this real gold?"

He took the Golden Medal in his hands and stroked it. It was quite beautiful. And heavy. It really did look like gold. If this was gold, selling even this much would bring in decent money. (Might as well sell it off.) If I sold it, all the troublesome things would disappear. That’s the plan—soon I’d quietly show it to a jeweler, and if the price was right, sell it off. As he was thinking this, a dull droning roar pierced the night’s stillness from a corner of the sky.

Haruki's eyes suddenly lit up. "An airplane’s flying... Surely that can’t be the helicopter from before..." When he strained his ears，it didn’t sound like an ordinary airplane.

“Ah! A helicopter. This is bad!”

He twisted the switch of the desk lamp and plunged the room into darkness. And groping by feel, he wrapped the two treasure keys and pushed them back deep into the drawer to where they had been.

The sound of the helicopter seemed to be drawing gradually closer. The boy Haruki was suddenly assaulted by terror and began trembling violently.

I get it. They've come for my Golden Medal. There's no doubt about it. Haruki Kiyoshi clenched his jaw as he reached this conclusion. This was bad. He recalled old man Togura—who'd desperately guarded that Golden Medal at Ikoma Waterfall—and how brutally those thieves had treated him. He remembered how helicopters had suddenly swooped down before those falls afterward too—how they'd rained machine gun fire on Togura before snatching him away midair. Ushimaru-kun had told him this story—and every detail rang true.

It was an utterly brutal method befitting those thugs. They were formidable thugs who freely wielded cutting-edge vehicles and murderous instruments, never ceasing until they achieved their objectives. "There's no way someone like me could stand a chance." "It'd be safer to obediently hand over the Golden Medal."

The boy Haruki realized the foolishness of resistance. But it was frustrating. "...Wait. Old Man Togura had risked his life struggling not to hand the Golden Medal over to those thieves. Since it was entrusted to me, shouldn't I be the one risking my life to protect this?" The boy's resolve shifted. Then the fear began thinning out with a whoosh—

"All right. "I'll run for all I'm worth!"

Haruki reconsidered. And then he once again took out the golden medal and piece of silk he had put away, quickly twisted them into his pants pocket, and slipped out through the back door.

The helicopter was drawing ever closer. He couldn't tell whether they were signal lights or marker lights, but glowing colored ones were visible.

Haruki ducked his head and jumped into the shadow of the wall. The light of a twenty-day-old moon shone. Because his figure could be easily seen, moving around wasn’t easy.

He fled toward the mountainous area, slipping through the nighttime town along walls to avoid being spotted from the helicopter. After he had gone about two hundred meters, the terrain beyond abruptly rose into a steep cliff. Atop the cliff stood an Inari shrine. Lately neglected, its roof was torn and eaves sagging—a shrine left untended. Haruki deliberately avoided climbing those stone steps and instead took the steep grass-choked path running alongside them. Of course, this was to avoid being seen.

Upon reaching the top of the cliff, he breathed a sigh of relief. Here, for now, he should be safe. This was because here, at the foot of the mountain, the slope had become dangerously steep. Around the Inari Shrine were densely clustered old, large trees, their branches spreading out so thickly that there were no gaps. Moreover, the shrine grounds were extremely cramped. Here, even if the helicopter tried to land, its rotors would hit the mountain trees, making it nearly impossible to succeed. Based on that reasoning, Haruki had scrambled up to the Inari Shrine atop the cliff.

Dreadful Incident

The dreadful incident had, by this time, already mostly come to an end.

At that very moment, its final touches were being put into place.

Now, what kind of incident had this been? As the helicopter gradually drew closer, Haruki grew anxious. If it continued flying in this direction, it would undoubtedly collide with the mountain behind Inari Shrine. Haruki even thought it might have already spotted him there. Yet the helicopter did not come all the way to Inari Shrine. Instead, near what he guessed was a riverbed along its path, it began its signature hovering maneuver.

The riverbed was visible to Haruki’s right, but the river itself flowed with ample water from the Shibahara Water Source Area before eventually joining the Minato River. "What are they planning to do?" Haruki cautiously rose from the shadow of the clump of trees atop the cliff and kept a wary eye in that direction. Then he noticed four or five figures walking in a group on the opposite bank of the riverbed. They were walking upstream. But suddenly they turned back. The shadows grew longer. At their head ran one small shadow.

The small shadow began climbing the stone steps of a certain house. Then, the following group converged upon the small shadow.

The group of shadowy figures began walking upstream along the bank once again as before. They were clustered together. And the small shadow appeared to be carried above their heads. Haruki’s heart lurched at that moment. “Ah! That’s Ushimaru-kun’s house… Then perhaps—” “Wasn’t that small figure Ushimaru-kun?” Though he couldn’t pinpoint why, both Ushimaru-kun and he himself had somehow become entangled with these helicopter thieves recently, and he couldn’t shake the feeling they were constantly watching them.

Therefore, Haruki Kiyoshi immediately realized that Ushimaru-kun was being kidnapped. And that was truly an accurate observation.

The group of suspicious men who had hoisted up Ushimaru-kun soon descended into the white riverbed. There, perfectly positioned above, a helicopter waited with what appeared to be a rope or rope ladder lowered. He saw them fasten themselves to the ladder and get steadily pulled upward. A lone figure remained on the riverbed—a large one that didn't seem to be Ushimaru-kun. At that moment, Ushimaru-kun must have been trussed with ropes and hauled relentlessly into the helicopter, exactly as old man Togura had been before.

The helicopter deftly accomplished this daring feat and promptly began rapidly ascending. "You monsters!" Haruki was furious. But what could he do? They wielded the advanced tools of civilization that we lacked, doing exactly as they pleased. There was nothing he could do. The helicopter soared rapidly upward, then just as expected crossed over the mountain and disappeared northward.

(It's over. Ah, poor Ushimaru-kun! But what do those villains intend to do after kidnapping you? You have nothing to do with this...) Haruki's thought made his chest tighten painfully. Because he had realized Ushimaru-kun had likely been kidnapped in his place. After all, their goal must be the search for the Golden Medal.

At that time before Ikoma Waterfall, I had already been entrusted with the Golden Medal by old man Togura, and following what the old man had told me to do, hid in the shadow of a rock to avoid being spotted from the helicopter.

However, there was a large hole there, and I fell into it.

After that, Ushimaru-kun came. And he had been spotted by the villains aboard the helicopter. After old man Togura was kidnapped and they examined him for the Golden Medal but found he didn’t have it, they must have thought—Then perhaps he gave it to that boy? After all, given how gravely injured Togura was, he shouldn’t have been able to move from where he’d collapsed. From that line of reasoning, the villains must have taken Ushimaru-kun tonight—young Haruki pieced together this deduction in such a manner.

After that, a new anxiety crept up on him. That was: "If the villains investigate Ushimaru-kun and find out he doesn't know anything about the Golden Medal, what will they do next? Next time, wouldn't they come to kidnap me? No—it wasn't a matter of 'maybe' at all—the villains would undoubtedly come after me next," he realized. "Ugh. This is bad." Young Haruki shuddered. How could he survive? How could he stay safe?

It seemed that seeking police protection was the best course of action.

"But wait," Haruki thought. Receiving police protection would be fine, but then that Golden Medal's existence would become publicly known. That would likely go against old man Togura's intentions. Moreover, after having kept this mysterious treasure secret with such effort, it seemed a terrible waste to carelessly expose it to the world now. Once that spread worldwide, treasure hunters would come swarming in, and ultimately, that treasure would absolutely never come rolling into the hands of someone like Haruki himself.

Young Haruki, still harboring very human desires, decided to postpone handing over the Golden Medal to the police a little longer.

"But if that's how it is, how can I stay safe? Is there no way to keep both my life safe and the Golden Medal secure?"

As he pondered this, a light abruptly came on in the window of the school building below. Sumire Academy

That was Sumire Academy's school building. Sumire Academy was a renowned private school offering classes from kindergarten through high school. Each class had few students, employed many teachers, and charged substantial tuition fees, but because its graduates achieved such excellence, applicants outnumbered available spots by five or six times each year. The illuminated area was the indoor gymnasium. A light had turned on in one second-floor room. The main exercise space formed an uninterrupted two-story hall, while smaller auxiliary rooms were attached to both floors. The first floor contained sports equipment storage areas, while the second floor housed a library records room alongside the night duty room. This night duty room currently served as lodging for Ms. Tachibana Katsumi, the gymnastics teacher. As she commuted by train from a distant region, she would stay overnight whenever her teaching schedule required early morning classes.

Young Haruki was not a teacher at his own school, but he remembered Ms. Tachibana. After all, Ms. Tachibana was a woman who stood out. She stood about five feet five inches tall with a slender body outlined in beautiful lines. She had well-proportioned features, but whether due to her being a teacher or not, her face carried a cold impression. When young Haruki had lived in Tokyo, there had been a woman in his neighborhood who closely resembled Ms. Tachibana, so he had immediately committed the teacher’s face to memory.

The children in the area called Ms. Tachibana "Tachimen." This derived from her long body resembling the silver cutlassfish, and since she was female—with females being called “men” in this town—combining these made it “cutlassfish’s men,” hence the nickname Tachimen. Young Haruki wondered why Ms. Tachibana had gotten up at this hour. He also wondered if it wasn’t Ms. Tachibana but someone else who had turned on the light. But at that moment, Ms. Tachibana’s face appeared at the window. And then, after glancing outside for a moment, she hurriedly closed the curtains. It was just that brief action, but there was no doubt—it had been Ms. Tachimen.

"That's it. I'll have Ms. Tachimen keep this Golden Medal. She may be a woman, but as a PE teacher she must be strong—if I ask her to guard the secret, she'll surely agree. Then both I and the Golden Medal will be safe." Haruki arrived at this conclusion.

He was about to set out with that intention when suddenly the situation changed. This was because he saw a commotion unfolding in front of Ushimaru-kun’s house across the river. It seemed the family members had rushed outside and were seeking help. The family members had likely been bound by the villains inside the house until now and had not been able to untie the ropes.

"I can't stay like this. I need to go immediately and tell the family what I just saw." This matter required immediate attention. Young Haruki started running but came back again. He hurriedly dug at the base of the towering mulberry tree there with whatever stones he could find.

After a while, when he stopped digging, a hole had been dug at the base. Young Haruki searched his pockets and took out the Golden Medal and the charred remains of the silk handkerchief. Then he wrapped it in tissue paper. He placed the package into the hole. Then he quickly covered it with soil. Finally, he placed a round stone about the size of a lunchbox on top and firmly tamped down the surrounding soil.

“Well, I’ll leave it like this for now.” “Otherwise, if I go all the way to Ushimaru-kun’s house and any villains are still lurking there who might catch me, they’ll take away the precious treasure.”

Young Haruki remained vigilant through and through. Such was the situation. There could be no room for carelessness. The helicopter had just lifted Ushimaru-kun into the air along with his companion, but hadn't there been someone left behind on the riverbank at that moment? Though their identity remained unknown, they were undoubtedly one of the villains' accomplices. This person had since vanished from sight, but there was no telling when they might abruptly reappear. They might very well be lurking in the shadow of a nearby wall, keeping watch over Ushimaru-kun's house. If that were true, then taking the precious treasure there would be unwise—so concluded Young Haruki.

With the Golden Medal no longer on his person, young Haruki felt lighter. He slid down the cliffside path and ran toward Ushimaru-kun's house. Out of breath, he arrived at Ushimaru-kun's house to find things exactly as he had imagined. Ushimaru-kun's father and mother appeared to have lost their senses and were causing an uproar. Neighbors were gradually gathering around. Soon came the sound of engines as the police squad arrived in their vehicles.

According to Ushimaru-kun’s father’s account, four suspicious men had entered and threatened them with a pistol. It was just like a robbery. Then they seized Ushimaru-kun and said, "We have some business with you, so come along. There’s no danger to your life, so don’t worry. But if you don’t obey, you’ll regret it," before leading him outside. The family members had been threatened with a pistol and bound tightly with ropes, so they were unable to rescue Ushimaru-kun.

The subsequent events unfolded exactly as young Haruki had witnessed from the cliff of the Inari shrine under the moonlight. "If the police don't get here sooner, it's no use!"

“If the police don’t come quicker, it’s no good!” a neighbor said.

“That’s right, that’s right. Moreover, bringing just cars isn’t enough. Since they’re using airplanes to kidnap people, the police need to chase them with airplanes right away, or they’ll never catch them,” another person said. That was exactly right. However, it seemed there were circumstances preventing the police from acting with such brisk efficiency. Young Haruki offered his condolences to Ushimaru-kun’s parents and said goodbye. He thought they might ask about his recent climb up Kannuki Mountain, but neither parent brought up the subject. Rather than that, they were desperately clinging to the police, pleading to have their son returned as soon as possible.

The Bearded Man Appears

At the Inari shrine atop the cliff, after Young Haruki had buried the Golden Medal and left, something strange occurred.

It was then that a single figure lumbered out from Inari’s dilapidated small shrine.

The figure first stretched out both hands forcefully,

He let out a big yawn—"Ah... Ah... Aaah..." Where the moonlight illuminated him, his face was covered in an unkempt beard, his hair a tangled mess. Though he wore multiple layers on his upper body, his trousers, undershirt, and overcoat were all in dreadful condition—countless holes riddled the fabric, frayed sections left unmended, and tattered rags hung down. The overcoat appeared to have no buttons and was tied around the top with a rope like a band. He was a vagrant.

“Been watchin’ since earlier—that brat pulled some shady business.” “What’d that punk bury ’neath the tree? Gonna take a peek.” “If it’s edible, I’m feastin’ right now.” Seeming to feel hunger’s grip, the bearded man licked his lips and descended. He lumbered toward the mulberry tree crowning the cliff. The burial spot yielded itself quick enough. No surprise—young Haruki had stamped the earth fresh moments before. Any half-careful search would spot it plain as day.

“Ah-ha. So this stone’s the marker, huh?”

The bearded man kicked the stone away, squatted down, and began clawing out the soil with both hands. Before long, he seized his quarry and rose to his feet. “What the... This is...” With a look of dashed expectations, he tore open the paper wrapping and peered inside. Unable to make sense of its contents, he clutched the package and retreated toward the shrine. Ducking beneath the shrine’s sagging roof, he passed through the latticework into a three-tatami space before the sacred altar. There lay a frayed straw mat spread across worn floorboards. This was the bedroom of the bearded man—Anegawa Goro.

He flopped down onto the straw mat, stretched his hand toward the corner and rummaged around until eventually grasping a ship’s lantern. He struck a match and lit it. A light far too splendid for this place flared to life. Under that light, he opened the paper package. Then the burnt silk cloth fragment emerged. He carelessly unfolded it. This time, the Golden Medal came out. It glinted brightly, startling him. He placed it on his palm, turned it over repeatedly, and stared intently.

The burnt silk cloth fragment and paper slipped from the man’s grasp and fluttered away into the distance, caught by a sudden gust of wind. Had old man Togura and young Haruki witnessed this scene, they would have been astonished and given chase. “What the hell is this?” The crescent-shaped Golden Medal tumbled wildly across Anegawa’s palm, but its true nature seemed beyond the bearded man’s comprehension.

“It’s glittering, but this is just gold-plated. And being only half of it, you can’t even sell the damn thing.” “Ah, what a waste of effort.” “I got ripped off.” The bearded man threw the Golden Medal onto the straw mat in irritation, then abruptly blew out the lantern. And then he flopped down onto his back. Before long, a loud snore sounded. Suppressing his hunger, the Bearded Sage fell asleep.

Several hours passed, and dawn broke.

Anegawa Goro, the bearded man, was an early riser. The morning sun was first to stream through a crack in the shrine onto his face, making it too bright to stay asleep. He sat up on the straw mat, let out three or four big yawns in succession, and scratched his body vigorously. Then without particular purpose he looked around. That's when something glinting struck his bloodshot eyes.

“What?” “Ah, so it’s last night’s scrap metal.” “Quit tryin’ to scare me.”

He muttered to himself, stretched out his hand, and picked up the Golden Medal from atop the straw mat. And under the morning sun, he turned it over again and again, examining both sides. “This is pretty good work for gold plating, I tell ya.” “Surely this can’t be real gold, can it?” “Hey, scrap metal big shot, quit tryin’ to scare me.” “I may look tough, but I’ve got a weak heart, I tell ya.”

He took the Golden Medal in hand and looked around. The lantern caught his eye. He pulled it closer and scratched the Golden Medal at its corner. The medal yielded easily to the grooves being carved into it, revealing a fresh layer beneath. Anegawa Goro held it up to the sunlight, widened his eyes, and stared intently.

“Well well.” “It’s gold-plated all through!” “Meticulous finish this... Wait... wait now.” “Might be real gold this.” “Then we got somethin’ proper here!” “Pawnshop’d still fetch month’s drink money easy.” “No time like now.” “Best move quick.”

Anegawa twisted the Golden Medal into his pocket. Then he undid the waist cord and flung off his coat. Then he reached up toward the ceiling, rummaged around in the ceiling space, retrieved the coat hidden there, and put it on over his jacket. Then he reached into the ceiling space again and pulled out a hat. When he placed it on his unkempt head, though its shape was misshapen, it was a sailor’s hat. Then he pulled out a pair of torn shoes from the offertory box, slipped them onto his feet, gave his pants a firm shake to hike them up, and leisurely descended the stone steps.

Unaware that such a major incident had occurred, young Haruki made his way up to the Inari shrine around eight o'clock.

Last night, he had buried the treasure at the base of the muku tree, and to check whether he had hidden it properly, he had come early in the morning to climb up the cliff. “Ah!” His eyes immediately detected something amiss. The base of the muku tree had been brutally dug up. Young Haruki turned pale and rushed over. “I’ve been had.” He knelt on the ground and searched through the excavated hole, but what he had buried the previous night was nowhere to be found. Beside it lay discarded—the round stone he had placed as a marker. He slumped down. There he remained sitting for some time, unable to muster the strength to rise.

(I messed up.) After all, I should have kept it stored deep in my desk. In my panic, I took it out or carelessly buried it in a place like this—I did something terrible. After Old Man Togura went through the trouble of giving it to me, I wasted it. ...But who dug it up from here and took it away?) Young Haruki finally pulled himself together from the depths of his great disappointment and stood up. (I want to get it back somehow.) (It's still too early to despair.)

The boy, having grasped a thread of deduction, began wandering aimlessly around the shrine grounds to follow that thread to the culprit when he noticed fresh footprints leading from the front of the small shrine toward him,

"This might be it."

At this, he tensed up. He peered into the shrine's interior. As a result, he found Anegawa Goro’s bedroom. "I was careless. "I ended up getting spotted by the man who was here." Tears of frustration wet young Haruki's cheeks. No matter how much he regretted it, this was a failure he couldn’t bring himself to accept. Wondering if perhaps the Golden Medal was hidden somewhere inside the shrine, he climbed into the shrine and meticulously examined it. But there was no way such a thing could have been there. However, he discovered a burnt silk cloth fragment caught in a torn hole of the shrine and cried out in joy.

He had thought he lost both the Golden Medal and this one, but considered it a silver lining that at least the burnt cloth fragment had come back into his hands. From now on, he thought, he must carefully safeguard this burnt cloth fragment and ensure that such a thing would never happen again.

Where could Anegawa Goro have gone, grasping the Golden Medal? One of the two split Golden Medals had thus slipped from young Haruki’s grasp. The other had passed from Rokuten Fortress’s leader Shima Kenshaku into Cat Woman’s hands. What paths would these two precious Golden Medals now take? When would their fragmented pieces be reunited? Yet what mystery lay hidden within this Golden Medal? The incident had finally reached its main stage.

The boy detective lamented.

Young Haruki was utterly disappointed. He no longer felt like doing anything. He realized that nothing he did was working out. He completely lost heart. The precious half-fragment of the Golden Medal that the dying Old Man Togura had risked his life to entrust to young Haruki! That fragment was now gone from his hands. (I thought Inari-sama would protect it from thieves...)

Burying it at the base of the tree in the shrine grounds spelled his doom. Someone promptly dug it up and took it away.

(It must be that man living in the shrine.)

Young Haruki climbed Inari shrine's cliff countless times after that and quietly peered into the small shrine from behind. But no matter how many times he looked, there was only the torn mat left spread out, and he never caught sight of the man's figure. Haruki was disappointed, but he resolved to return there again and again, no matter how many times it took. The theft of the Golden Medal was a major incident that left him bitterly frustrated, but even more resounding throughout the town was the kidnapping of Ushimaru Heitarou, the boy, by helicopter.

After all, the kidnapping had been carried out in such an outrageously bold and heartless manner that neither the parents nor the neighbors could lift a finger to stop it—right before their stunned eyes, he was hoisted into the helicopter and whisked away into the sky.

The police force arrived too late. Even if they had arrived in time, they still wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. The police force, without airplanes, could do nothing. Ushimaru Heitarou was a boy beloved by all, so the repercussions of this kidnapping were immense. Moreover, since Ushimaru-kun had been the first to report the incident when Haruki-kun went missing in the mountains earlier, there were many people who knew of Ushimaru the boy.

For Haruki too, having his closest friend put through such an ordeal left him unbearably frustrated. Therefore, he had even gone so far as to ask the teacher to include him in the investigation team.

“Ah, I see. That’s good. Last time, Ushimaru-kun reported your accident. So this time, Haruki-kun will be searching for Ushimaru-kun to return the favor. That’s truly commendable.” Head Teacher Kanaya, his homeroom teacher, praised him.

“Teacher. “Why was Ushimaru-kun kidnapped?”

At that moment, Haruki asked the teacher.

“That’s exactly what I can’t figure out.” “Since Ushimaru-kun’s family is an old established household, people might have thought there was a great deal of money.” “In that case, a ransom note will definitely come later.” “A ransom note?”

“Yes. A ransom note saying something like, ‘If you want to save Ushimaru Heitarou’s life, bring one million yen to such-and-such place on such-and-such date—’ that sort of thing.” “But in reality, Ushimaru-kun’s family is poor, so they don’t have such a large sum of money.” “If they think that, then it’s the thieves’ mistake.” Teacher Kanaya seemed well-informed about Ushimaru-kun’s household circumstances.

“Then why was Ushimaru-kun kidnapped?” “I don’t know.” “Ushimaru-kun isn’t an exceptionally handsome boy like you... That’s right—you don’t happen to have any idea about this, do you?” “If you do, then say so.” Teacher Kanaya stared intently at Haruki’s face. At that moment, Haruki considered bringing up the incident at Ikoma Waterfall. He wanted to suggest that they might have been targeted by helicopters since that time. However, Haruki thought that if he were to mention that, he would end up wanting to confess about the Golden Medal as well. The Golden Medal was no longer in his possession. He felt that everything since then was connected by some suspicious thread. In that case, wouldn’t it be better to just come clean to Teacher here and now?

But in the end, Haruki never managed to say it. The reason was that just as he was about to speak, Ms. Tachibana Katsumi happened to pass by nearby. This female teacher was employed at Sumire Gakuen but frequently visited various schools. She would discuss gymnastics and teach new exercises and sports. “Oh, Ms. Tachibana,” Teacher Kanaya greeted. “Oh, Teacher Kanaya. Have you come to a place like this?”

With that, Ms. Tachibana approached. Haruki bowed and stepped away from the two teachers. And so, he missed his chance to bring up the Golden Medal.

Though Haruki couldn't hear it at that moment, God wore a faint smile around His mouth while the Devil gave a slight click of his tongue. Why was this so?

The Text on the Silk Handkerchief

Twice that night and three times the following morning, Haruki Kiyoshi scouted the Inari shrine. However, he could not catch sight of the vagrant he wanted to see. That vagrant never returned to his sleeping quarters inside the shrine that night. (Why hadn’t he come back? Could it be that he went to sell that Golden Medal, got some money, and didn’t come back?)

Haruki Kiyoshi’s deduction was sharp, closely matching Anegawa Goro’s state of mind to a significant degree. This was bad. If he had sold it, I needed to track down where he’d sold it quickly before it was too late. But without the vagrant returning, there was no way to ask. He found himself once again regretting yesterday’s failure. (If I keep hesitating, things will only get worse!)

The boy clearly understood that as well.

"That's right. What a fool I had been. If it was going to be stolen, I should have copied that ciphertext-like thing engraved on the Golden Medal onto another piece of paper." Ah, I realized that too late. The Golden Medal was no longer in Haruki Kiyoshi's possession. I had been utterly careless. Thinking I shouldn't let anyone see it and that I should keep it so very carefully protected, I had put away the Golden Medal's ciphertext without even examining it properly.

"There’s the handkerchief. Characters were written on that too. Right—that handkerchief might get stolen anytime. I should copy down what’s written while I still can." Haruki had finally returned to his original course now. Yet he’d already made two critical blunders before getting back on track.

That night, the boy spread out the burnt remnant of the silk handkerchief under a light. Unfortunately, only about a quarter or a fifth of it remained.

But even so, this was a significant clue.

Now, he began to read, but the characters written on the silk handkerchief—executed with a fine brush in an expert cursive style—proved exceedingly difficult to decipher. However, the boy overcame this challenge, repeatedly consulting a dictionary until he somehow managed to transcribe and interpret the characters for the time being.

Just what kind of text had been written there? Fourteen lines remained. However, not even a single line remained completely intact to its end. Yet the beginnings of all lines were present. It was a sequence of characters as follows: Heza……………………………… Did………………………………

Two combined…………………………… The treasure stored………………………… knowing how to open…………………… . Okutan and He……………… Heza and Okutan did not cooperate………………… the Golden Medal that……………… ...sent assassins including………………… The fallen Golden Medal lies dark…………… ...and beyond that missing………… The fragment here belongs to O…………… Having secured one piece, I buried [it] underground... ...having obtained this...

"What is this?" "I can't make any sense of it at all." Haruki Kiyoshi, the boy, was disappointed. If only he hadn't burned it so badly in the bonfire at Ikoma Falls—he could have read a complete text and would be celebrating a major discovery by now.

"No—I won’t dwell on regrets anymore." "From these remaining phrases of the burnt fragment,I will draw out and reveal the significant meaning contained in the entire text."

He was excited. Repeatedly, he mouthed these fragmented phrases to himself. He thought and thought deeply. His head grew as hot as fire. Before long, he felt he had seized upon a clue. There were two people who each possessed one half-piece of this Golden Medal. One was called Okutan, and the other was called Heza... Okutan and Heza-something—but Heza’s full name remained unknown. In any case, reading this text made sense if these two people each held one half-piece of the Golden Medal.

Gaining momentum from this, the boy detective proceeded to further his deductions. Then he discovered the second clue. "When you combine those two Golden Medals, you can learn how to open the treasure vault." From the third, fourth, and fifth lines, he thought he could gather this much meaning. If this deduction held true, one would first need to acquire both halves of the Golden Medal before attempting to unite them. The cipher-like characters engraved on the back of the medals apparently gain complete meaning when the two halves are combined, revealing how to open the treasure vault.

The boy detective, gaining momentum, proceeded to analyze further.

From the sixth to the eleventh line did not seem particularly important, but the meaning written there was— Okutan and Heza-something—each possessing half of the Golden Medal—were on bad terms and did not cooperate; instead, they attempted to seize each other’s halves by sending assassins. As a result, one of the two men died. And then the half-piece went missing— Wouldn’t this be the case? “No—if one of them had sent assassins to kill the other and taken their half-piece of the Golden Medal, that half-piece would have become theirs. It shouldn’t have gone missing.” This doesn’t make sense. “I need to rethink this.”

He reconsidered everything from various angles, teetering on the verge of understanding yet finding no satisfactory answer came forth. The boy detective was thoroughly irritated, but at that point his mind simply refused to work any further. Then from the final three lines he deduced this: —This fragment—that is, the half-piece Togura Yasomarou had possessed—was Okutan's former half-piece, and he himself—that is, Togura Yasomarou—had excavated this from underground—

Apparently, he had managed to grasp this much. Who exactly Okutan and Heza-something were remained unclear. This was likely explained at the beginning of the text. Because that section had been burned away, the names Okutan and Heza-something abruptly surfaced, making it impossible to discern their identities, relationship, or the era they lived in.

It later became clear that Haruki Kiyoshi's deductions—interpreted in this manner—had correctly grasped seventy percent of the original text's meaning. For a boy detective, it was a passing grade. From this point onward, he decided to base his subsequent activities on the aforementioned interpretation; however, there was in fact one more thing he had considered. It was— —Heza-something was killed by assassins sent by Okutan, and the half-piece of the Golden Medal that Heza had possessed went missing. Okutan attempted to search for the treasure based on the half-piece he possessed, but it did not go well. And he died regretfully. Therefore, the world-class great treasure has not been discovered and remains preserved in its original location—

First, he made such an estimation. Therefore, Okutan was a terrible villain. Heza-something was a pitiable person. And Heza-something’s bereaved family or subordinates resented Okutan, but in their possession remained a half-piece of the Golden Medal that Okutan had failed to seize. If there was someone who had that fan-shaped half-piece, then that person was related to Heza-something’s bereaved family or subordinates—Haruki Kiyoshi thought.

Whether this was correct would be of great interest to you, dear readers. For you see, dear readers, you already know facts that Haruki Kiyoshi does not—such as Shima Kenshaku and the Cat Woman.

A clean prison cell. The pitiable one was the boy Ushimaru Heitarou, who had been taken from his home by helicopter.

By the time he was loaded into the helicopter, he had already lost consciousness. So he didn’t remember much of what happened afterward.

When he came to, he was lying on a hard bed. Startled, he sat up abruptly. The body ached all over. “Oh, this is…” It was a brightly lit narrow room, but instead of a door there were iron bars fitted at the entrance. It was a prison cell. The bed was fixed to the corner of the room and also served as seating. “What are they planning to do with me, locking me up in a place like this?” Ushimaru went to the iron bars and tested whether they would open. It was no good. On the outside of the bars hung a sturdy lock.

In front of the iron bars was a passageway. And directly ahead, there was only a wall. Wondering if there was any way to escape, Ushimaru scanned every corner of the room. There was only a small air vent in the ceiling. Even if someone tried to escape through there, it would be impossible for a human. A small cat might have managed it, but Ushimaru was not a cat.

The ceiling was high. In the room, there was nothing besides the bed. No—there was one. It was a toilet. The boy Ushimaru was kept in this room for a long time. There, he couldn’t tell the time at all, but when a man who appeared to be a jailer came and slid a meal through the bars, he realized it must be morning.

The jailer was a portly man around fifty years old, shaped like a potato and as round as a dumpling. Even when Ushimaru spoke to him, the jailer only shook his head from side to side without responding. When bringing lunch, Ushimaru tried speaking to him again. The jailer shook his head in the same manner and pointed at his own ears and mouth. (I can't hear, and I can't speak.) he signaled. At dinner time, when Ushimaru attempted to address him once more, the jailer glared with terrifying eyes. He glanced around anxiously to both sides before making another frightening face, stretching his mouth wide open to intimidate the boy Ushimaru.

Ushimaru felt dejected. Having lost all hope, he lay face down on the bed and wailed. But there was no one who came to comfort him.

Appearing utterly exhausted, Ushimaru seemed to have fallen asleep in that very position.

“Wake up. “Hey! Wake up, kid!” At the rough voice, Ushimaru finally opened his eyes.

“Come on, wake up.” “The Leader’s summoning you.” “You’re coming along quietly.” The young man said this and clamped handcuffs around Ushimaru’s wrist with a clank. Ushimaru was led out of the cell. Surrounded on all sides, the boy Ushimaru was made to walk a long way down the passageway, then taken up in an elevator. Throughout the journey, he remained constantly vigilant of his surroundings, but the structure appeared quite impressive. He did not know that this place was the underground lair of Rokuten Fortress, concealed deep within the mountainous interior of Kannuki Mountain.

“Leader. I have brought Ushimaru Heitarou.”

The young man brought the boy into the large room where Leader Shima Kenshaku was waiting. The boy Ushimaru saw the figure known as the Leader for the first time there. The mysterious masked figure sitting composedly on a magnificent large chair adorned with dragon carvings atop a raised platform at the front of a room lavishly decorated in Chinese style was undoubtedly Leader Shima. On both his left and right, four or five people who appeared to be subordinates were lined up. The face of Kido, who had the air of a secretary, was also among them. Dr.Tsukue's slender figure was also among them. The Leader shouted from behind his mask.

“Hmm. “Nami, wait there.” “Kido. Bring that boy before me. I’ll speak to him directly.” The young man turned his back to the entrance and stood still.

Kido stepped forward, grabbed the boy Ushimaru by the shoulder, and led him before the Leader. "Don't get rough with him." The Leader cautioned Kido.

“Now, Ushimaru Heitarou. I had you brought here because there are things I need to ask you. You will answer my questions truthfully. If you lie, you’ll face severe punishment—so don’t even think about lying.”

The Leader's thick, authoritative voice stabbed through Ushimaru's chest.

The boy Ushimaru remained silent. He couldn’t help but find the triple-layered veil hanging before the Leader’s face utterly perplexing. “Hey, Ushimaru Heitarou. You received half of the Golden Medal from Old Man Togura, didn’t you? Answer truthfully.” The Leader said this and leaned forward from the waist up, anticipating Ushimaru’s response. The boy Ushimaru remained silent even so. The Leader was in a bad mood because the boy did not respond. He shuddered his shoulders,

“Come on, answer quickly. Where have you hidden the half of the Golden Medal that was given to you by Old Man Togura?” he said, his voice turning rough. “If you want to ask me something, you should try using proper manners when asking,” Ushimaru retorted. “You’ve been treating me like a criminal since yesterday—who’d feel like answering your demands now?” The boy Ushimaru opened his mouth for the first time to reproach their rudeness. “I didn’t call you here to listen to lectures on manners,” the Leader snapped. “You only need to answer what I ask. If you don’t obey, I’ll give you as many tortures as you could wish for.” His mask tilted slightly forward. “For example—how about this?”

The Leader pressed one of the buttons concealed in the shadow of the chair’s armrest. Then from the ceiling, something resembling an upside-down pot descended smoothly along with a long chain and rope. And the pot-like object fitted snugly over the boy Ushimaru’s head. “Ow!” The chain snapped taut. And the pot-like object rose steadily. And with that, Ushimaru’s hair remained tightly adhered to it as he was pulled upward.

One method after another.

“It hurts! It hurts!” The boy Ushimaru was hoisted into the air. It hurt. The hair was about to tear free. Struggling only made it hurt more. Ushimaru clenched his teeth, tears streaming down.

“Since this is merely a sample of torture, I’ll show mercy here.” “You youngsters act impertinent without grasping why—unacceptable.” “For such insolent whelps, torture works best.” The Leader uttered these reproachful words before halting the torture. The pot-like contraption released Ushimaru’s hair and clanked upward toward the ceiling alongside its chains and ropes.

Even the usually easygoing Ushimaru Heitarou was overwhelmed by this torture. If they possessed such barbaric torture devices in abundance, one couldn’t afford to utter a careless word.

“Therefore, I’ll ask you again. The half of the Golden Medal that Old Man Togura gave you—where is it now? Answer immediately.” The Leader’s voice had grown gentler than before. Though softer now, his words carried an implicit threat—"If you don’t answer this time, I’ll subject you to real torture.” Ushimaru couldn’t afford not to respond. “I’ll be honest—even if you mention Old Man Togura or the Golden Medal, I truly don’t understand what you’re talking about. This is the truth.”

“What the... You’re still lying?!” “In that case—”

“No matter how much ya torture me, what I just said’s the truth.” “Like I told ya, I’ll keep repeatin’ it however many times ya want.” “Or if ya wanna hear lies from me, go ahead an’ torture me all ya like.”

As he kept talking, Ushimaru grew irritated and once again ended up saying things he didn’t need to say. “You won’t get away with ‘I don’t know’.” “Then I’ll confront you with the evidence.” “Bring Old Man Togura here.” By the Leader’s command, Old Man Togura was brought into this room. He was restrained to a wheelchair, just as before. His bearded face drooped heavily, and his eyes were closed. Old Man Togura’s wheelchair was positioned alongside the boy Ushimaru before the Leader. Dr. Tsukue strode over and examined Old Man Togura. That was done quickly. Dr. Tsukue returned to his seat.

“Ushimaru boy. The one before you is Old Man Togura. You must’ve seen this old man before. At Ikoma Waterfall—what did you receive from him? Spit it out and be done with it.” “I don’t know this person. This is the first time I’ve ever met him.”

Ushimaru answered thus. He thought that the person who had collapsed before Ikoma Waterfall might be this old man. However, he hadn't gotten a proper look at the face at that time. Because machine gun fire had begun from the helicopter, he immediately scrambled up the persimmon tree. “Just how stubborn are you?” “Do you want to be tortured that badly?” “In that case.”

“Wait, please.” “I really don’t know this person.” “That ain’t a lie.” “You can have someone ask this person if ya want.”

Ushimaru boy repeated the same assertion.

Old Man Togura had been looking down the whole time and did not open his eyes. He did not even attempt to look at Ushimaru boy’s face.

In the old man’s heart raged intense anguish now—for he had misunderstood that the boy beside him was Haruki Kiyoshi. Out of gratitude toward the kindness shown when nursing his dying self, he had given that Golden Medal to the boy; yet whenever he thought how this act had cursed the child—now deprived of freedom and subjected to terrible torment by Shima Kenshaku—the old man’s chest felt fit to burst with agony. He lacked even the courage to glance once at this pitiable boy’s face. How could he possibly apologize? The old man’s position had become unbearably painful.

“Two stubborn mules gathered,” the Leader said of Ushimaru and Old Man Togura. “Very well. I’ll show you undeniable proof.” “Nami! Did you bring those photos?” Namitachi Ni, standing by the doorway, pulled several photographs from his pocket and brought them to the Leader. “Hmm...” “These confirm you were the child at the scene that day.” “Look.” The Leader thrust the photos into Ushimaru’s hands.

Ushimaru looked at them. His heart pounded. When he arrived in front of Ikoma Waterfall and a helicopter swooped down, he was startled and scrambled up a persimmon tree. His figure at that moment had been clearly captured. Some photos showed his face enlarged to fill the frame. When he saw them, it was unmistakably him—he couldn't deny it.

“Well? “That’s you in the photo, isn’t it?” “You can’t deny it’s you.” This time, the Leader stared greedily at Ushimaru boy’s face, as if to see whether he was cowed.

“This appears to be me.”

Ushimaru readily admitted it. “However, even if I’m the one who climbed this persimmon tree, I didn’t receive anything from anyone.” “It’s true.” Old Man Togura slightly opened his eyes at this moment. And he gazed searchingly yet gently at Ushimaru’s face. (Oh...!) Panic and joy simultaneously flashed across Old Man Togura’s face. (Oh God) Old Man Togura mouthed silently, then slumped back into his chair and closed his eyes. Old Man Togura, realizing that the boy beside him was not Haruki Kiyoshi, was suddenly released from the intense anguish that had tormented him until now.

At that moment, the Leader’s anger-filled voice resounded.

“What a sloppy job.” “The investigation was insufficient!” “The responsible party will be punished.” Glancing around, the Leader scolded his subordinates. “Throw these two stubborn ones in there for now.”

Having said that dismissively, the Leader parted the hanging curtain behind him and disappeared into its depths. He was a grotesquely tall, lanky masked giant. Ushimaru boy watched the Leader’s retreating figure with admiration.

What kind of face lay beneath that mask? He wanted so badly to see it.

He forgot fear and stirred curiosity.

International Antique Dealer

There，the story shifts to the crescent-shaped Golden Medal that had passed from the boy Haruki into Anegawa Goro’s hands.

There was no need to elaborate on Anegawa Goro at this juncture. The reason was simple—he lay hopelessly drunk. His ragged clothes had been replaced by a dashing young sailor's outfit. Evidently he had come into substantial funds. The half-metal fragment he had dug from beneath a tree at the Inari Shrine grounds proved indeed to be gold. He sold it to Antique Dealer Chanhū-gō, situated down a narrow alley branching off the coastal avenue. Old Man Chan, the proprietor, sported Confucius-length facial hair and bore a tomato-like rosy complexion. The old man offered ¥20,000 for the medal Anegawa presented. Hearing this, Anegawa demanded ¥100,000 instead—but ultimately settled for ¥35,000 when Old Man Chan made the purchase.

As Anegawa, clutching a large sum of money and elated, was about to leave the store, Old Man Chan called out to him from behind.

“If you find an undamaged complete one, I’ll pay 40% more!” Anegawa left the store with a snort. “Heh heh heh.” “It’s practically like getting it for free.” “Even if I melt it down, it’ll sell for ¥120,000.” "But what a waste." “They had cut it in half using such a rough method.” “Probably wanted to check if it was gold all the way through.” Old Man Chan muttered to himself as he removed the Golden Medal from the scale’s pan and placed it on one of the shelves inside a glass case in the shop’s display window. Beside it, fragmented precious metal accessories were crammed into the narrow space. A jade earring missing its pair, gemless golden ring settings, pearl necklaces missing beads, gaudily carved rings of various sizes, an antique-looking pocket watch - along with inexplicable trinkets and component parts - were all crammed together inside that glass case.

It was midday on the third day after Anegawa Goro had sold off the Golden Medal.

That day, the crescent-shaped Golden Medal strangely captivated customers' eyes. In the end, three customers touched the Golden Medal that day.

The first customer was an unexpected figure—Ms. Tachibana Katsumi.

That day, Ms. Tachibana Katsumi spent her morning at Senkō Building's auditorium on Kaigan Avenue for a new gymnastics demonstration and planning meeting. Having finished her duties, she stepped outside where she encountered Teacher Kanaya, and together they decided to return to school via Motomachi. It was then that they happened to pass before Antique Dealer Chanhū's shop.

At first, Teacher Kanaya stopped before the display window. Since he rarely visited such places, he peered curiously at the various items arranged inside the glass pane. Ms. Tachibana, however, showed little interest in such objects and stood behind Teacher Kanaya with a mildly irritated expression.

That Teacher Kanaya burst into laughter.

“Hahaha. “This place is a junk shop. “They might look decent at a glance, but they’re all just worthless junk. “That one’s like half a gold coin. “A half gold coin is absurd. “Since it’s too large to be a gold coin, perhaps it’s a medal. “In any case, there’d be no buyers for a half-piece...” Ms. Tachibana’s face approached the display window.

“Ms. Tachibana. Look, that thing over there that looks like half a gold coin—is that plating, I wonder, or real gold?”

“Well…” Ms. Tachibana spoke in a hoarse voice. “If that were real gold, with that much, I could completely repair my mother’s dentures.” “Let’s get going already.” The two teachers moved away from Old Man Chan’s display window. And they emerged into the bustling Motomachi district.

After walking about fifty meters through Motomachi, Ms. Tachibana turned to Teacher Kanaya and,

"I just remembered something I had forgotten to do." "I will go take care of something now, so I must take my leave here." said Ms. Tachibana. And with that, the two parted ways.

Ms. Tachibana briskly turned back. And the teacher entered the familiar international antique dealer’s shop. Old Man Chan was feeding the caged bird but turned toward the store and started. It was an unusual customer. “What may I show you today?” Chan rubbed his hands together and bowed his head. While bowing his head, he never took his eyes off the beautiful customer’s face. Ms. Tachibana asked to see the half-piece of the Golden Medal, took it in her hands, and examined it closely. It seemed the teacher took a liking to it. Then she asked the price.

“Well now. Since it’s your special request, I’ll knock it down to 200,000 yen.” “That’s nearly pure gold, you know. Plus, it’s got a mighty fine pedigree. Two hundred thousand’s a real bargain, I tell ya!”

He quoted two hundred thousand yen - six times what he'd paid Anegawa Goro's thirty-five thousand for the fragment. "Is that... two hundred thousand?" Ms.Tachibana's voice tightened. "That seems rather steep." "Every yen's worth it, ma'am," Old Man Chan countered, his Kansai accent thickening with persuasion. "Those in the trade know true value when they see it." After a measured pause, the teacher straightened her shoulders. "I don't have that amount here presently. I'll leave twenty thousand as earnest money." Her gloved hand touched the display case. "The remaining one hundred eighty thousand I'll bring from home. Please consider this transaction settled."

“Whaaat?!” “Thank ya kindly.” “So, you’re really buying it for 200,000 yen?” “That’ll do just fine.” “That’s a 20,000 yen deposit.” “I’ll take that here.” Old Man Chan went to great pains to conceal his surprise. He had expected her to haggle it down to around 150,000 yen, but instead she was offering to buy it at the generous price of 200,000 yen. If that’s how it was going to be, I should have haggled up the price even more. Given that this woman was dressed so plainly, he had thought that naming a price of 200,000 yen would make her utterly shocked and send her fleeing the shop immediately, but it turned out to be a completely different story.

After the female customer hurriedly left the shop, Old Man Chan returned the Golden Medal to its original glass case.

The Next Two Customers

Old Man Chan once again approached the birdcage in his usual manner. And he began feeding his beloved small bird. When he was nearly finished,

“Excuse me,” said a man who entered the shop. He was a tall, imposing figure. He appeared Japanese yet somehow foreign-looking. This gentleman was none other than Dr. Tsukue himself, who carried substantial authority as a key subordinate of Shima Kenshaku.

“Good sir. Let me have a look at that half-coin-like object inside the glass case.” Dr.Tsukue extended his long hand and pointed at the shelf of the glass case. “Ah, this one?” Old Man Chan took it out and showed it to the customer. Old Man Chan, feigning ignorance of the sales agreement he had finalized with Ms.Tachibana, casually produced the crescent-shaped Golden Medal for inspection.

“This is an intriguing piece. What a shame—it’s been split in half. Good sir, is this genuine gold?” “It’s 22-karat gold—nearly pure.” “Heh. And the price?” “Since this isn’t exactly flying off the shelves, I’ll make an exception and slash it down to 300,000 yen.” “300,000 yen! Ridiculous! How could it possibly be worth that much? Good sir, how about 150,000 yen?” “No can do. Three hundred thousand yen—not a single yen less.”

“Is that so? Then I’ll go round up 300,000 yen somehow.”

Dr. Tsukue said this and left Chan’s antique shop. After taking five or six steps away from the shopfront, Dr. Tsukue shrugged his shoulders and snorted.

"That greedy old fool would never suspect I'd already photographed both sides of the Golden Medal right there in his shop. Hmph." Dr. Tsukue tapped the sophisticated miniature camera hidden in his overcoat button over his clothing—a swift move befitting the Doctor. "But...should I have informed the Leader about that Golden Medal being up for sale there, or should I have tried to obtain it myself? Now, which would be better?"

Dr. Tsukue walked toward the coastal avenue with long, measured strides.

The third customer arrived about thirty minutes after that.

That person was wearing foreign sailor’s clothing. His hair and eyes were black, giving him a Japanese appearance, but his ruddy complexion and high nasal bridge suggested Spanish heritage. His features were well-proportioned, yet a fearsome sword scar ran from his forehead through his left eye, down the bridge of his nose, reaching his lip. It was a horrific slash wound. However, this scar only appeared truly gruesome when light struck his face from a particular angle.

“Please show me that half of the medal.” He said this in broken English. Old Man Chan responded in English more proficient than the customer’s. He noticed this Golden Medal had become strangely popular today and was in high spirits. At the same time, he did not let his guard down. The scarred sailor flipped the Golden Medal over dozens of times, borrowed a magnifying glass from Chan to meticulously examine every part of it, and even placed it on his palm to gauge its weight. After that,

“How much are you selling this for?” asked the scarred sailor. “Four hundred thousand yen.” Chan, thinking this customer didn’t seem wealthy and it was best to shoo him away quickly, gave a curt reply. “Four hundred thousand yen?” “I’ll buy it for twelve hundred dollars.” “Twelve hundred dollars amounts to over five hundred thousand yen.” “You’re making quite a deal here.” Having said that, the customer began laying out U.S. banknotes from his pocket in front of Chan. Chan hadn’t been this astonished in recent memory.

“Please wait. This item has already been sold under a prior agreement—I’m afraid I cannot hand it over.”

“How much did you agree to sell it for?” "That’s, uh..." Old Man Chan couldn’t possibly bring himself to honestly state it was two hundred thousand yen.

The customer finished laying out the banknotes. “I just made a contract with you to buy it for five hundred thousand yen.” “I’ll buy it.” “There’s no one besides me who’ll buy this at the high price of five hundred thousand yen.”

“Very well. I’ll sell it.”

Chan finally said that. Selling it for five hundred thousand yen rather than two hundred thousand would mean two and a half times more profit. To that woman who had already made a purchase agreement - if he returned the twenty thousand yen deposit along with an additional five or ten thousand yen - she probably wouldn't complain. That was what Old Merchant Chan thought.

The customer left the shop carrying half of the Golden Medal. Chan was engrossed in counting the banknotes he had received once more.

About seven or eight minutes later, a boy who happened to pass by the storefront of the Antique Dealer Chanfu-go suddenly came to a halt and let out a cry.

“Whoa! This is blood!” “There’s a ton of blood flowing from the back of the store!” At that cry, people from the neighborhood came rushing out in alarm. They entered Chan’s store and called out the old proprietor’s name. There was no reply from Chan; only the small bird in the cage chirped repeatedly. “What could have happened to Mr. Chan…”

“Ah! He’s collapsed right here!” In the back of the store, Old Merchant Chan lay collapsed, stained crimson. There was a terrible wound that appeared to have been inflicted by a pistol shot over his heart. Around it, a circular burn mark had formed on his clothes. Of course, Chan was dead. Who could have turned Old Merchant Chan into such a cold corpse, and when had they done it? Would this case go unsolved?

The tragic news of Old Merchant Chan the antique dealer’s murder spread instantly to every corner of the port town. “What a horrific criminal to do such a thing.” “That old man had no family and lived alone with small birds while running that shop... Ah, how pitiful!”

Among those who knew the old man, there were also people who mourned his death with such words. “Old Man Chan was quite something, you know. When we brought items to sell, he’d beat down the prices to next to nothing.” “Then he’d polish them up and palm them off on foreigners at outrageous prices.” “Taking advantage of people’s weaknesses was his greatest specialty.” “Made too much profit—that’s why he wound up like this.” Having said that, there were also those who spoke with venomous tongues.

“Well, that’s what you call being a shrewd businessman.” “There’s no reason the old man should’ve been killed over something like that.” “The reason he was killed like that is because among the jewels Old Man Chan gathered through terrible means, there was a diamond under a dreadful curse.” “It was originally embedded in the forehead of an Indian Buddha statue, but a wicked sailor gouged it out and stole it.” “And then he sold it to Old Man Chan.” “Then an Indian high priest disguised himself as a sailor and came all the way to take it back.” “Because the old man didn’t return it willingly, he was stabbed to death like that—with a fierce stab.”

"No! He was shot with a pistol!" "He was shot with a pistol!" "Ah...a pistol?" "A pistol works too."

“Is that really true, that story?” “In other words, I thought it might be something like that, you see.”

“What’s this? You took advantage of everyone being wrapped up in the incident and tricked them, didn’t you?” “Either way, that old man was the type who’d have dirt come out if you pressed him. The culprit will never be found!”

Certainly that was the case, and since they had no leads at all on the culprit, Inspector Akiyoshi, who was in charge of the case, was growing irritated. He had arrived at the scene thirty minutes after Old Man Chan’s death and immediately taken command of the investigation; however, the bloodstained store interior had already been thoroughly trampled by neighbors who rushed there upon being alerted by the boy who discovered the incident. With things in this state, there was no way to obtain the evidence needed to identify the culprit. Inspector Akiyoshi was at a loss.

Moreover, since Old Man Chan had been living alone in his store, there were no witnesses to testify about its condition at the time of the incident. Though neighbors lived on both sides and across the street, they would have monitored comings and goings had they known he would be murdered that day—but lacking such foreknowledge, none could provide accurate accounts of visitors. Inspector Akiyoshi reasoned that the killer had likely acted with full awareness of these circumstances.

They searched the store and investigated what had been stolen. The results remained unclear once again. After all, there were a great many small, miscellaneous items. Since there was no inventory of the items, they couldn’t determine what exactly was missing. The safe was closed. They examined the inside of this as well, but it still wasn’t clear. Inside the safe were stored Japanese banknotes and American banknotes. Was this all the cash that existed, or had the culprit stolen a portion of it before closing the safe and fleeing? They couldn’t determine which was the case.

While this held no interest for Inspector Akiyoshi, I will state here one matter that may interest the readers: twelve hundred dollars in American banknotes had remained entirely intact there. This serves as one clue to determine what sort of person the culprit was. Inspector Akiyoshi, unfortunately, had not been blessed with the opportunity to obtain such materials.

Thus, Inspector Akiyoshi's attention focused solely on Old Man Chan's fatal wound, the location where he had died, and the position of his body. The cause of the old man's death was a pistol shot that had cleanly pierced through the center of his heart. The old man must have died without uttering a sound. The pistol had been aimed at the old man's chest, its muzzle undoubtedly pressed tight against his clothes. In that position, the pistol discharged. This left a hole in the fabric where the muzzle had made contact, with the surrounding cloth burned black.

The pistol's bullet had pierced through the back, penetrated the wall decoration behind it, and embedded itself in the wall. When they dug it out and examined it, they found this pistol wasn't a common Browning or Colt model but a special type with a significantly smaller caliber. It likely wasn't shaped like a standard pistol, instead being crafted to resemble another object. Assassins often carry pistols disguised as fountain pens or folding fans—this was undoubtedly such a weapon. To make items resemble those objects, they inevitably had to reduce the bullet's caliber. Naturally, with only minimal gunpowder capacity, such pistols required pressing the muzzle flush against the victim's body when firing; otherwise, the bullet wouldn't penetrate.

"The culprit is no ordinary person. Killing Old Man Chan must have felt no different than wringing a chicken's neck."

Inspector Akiyoshi shuddered at the thought. The old man had apparently been facing a customer across the shop counter. Then he bent his body slightly as if to move toward the back. At that moment, the pistol gripped by the culprit must have swiftly aimed at the old man's heart over his clothes, and the trigger was immediately pulled. The old man's face in death bore neither traces of anguish nor an expression of fear—it remained calm. Upon collapsing there, blood gushed ceaselessly from the wound and eventually flowed all the way to the front of the store—or so it was surmised.

And then what did the culprit do? They had absolutely no idea. It was impossible to tell whether they had targeted something, retrieved it, and made a swift escape, or whether they had simply struck down the old man before scampering away. At this point, Inspector Akiyoshi’s investigation had reached an impasse.

Since there was no other way, Inspector Akiyoshi requested that all stations up through the marine police be notified to inform him if any suspicious individuals connected to Old Man Chan's murder were found. This method amounted to relying on luck. However, with no evidence being gathered and no witnesses coming forward, he had no choice but to take this approach. He specifically asked the Marine Police Station to keep watch on foreign sailors too. Yet even if suspicious individuals existed among the foreign sailors, bringing them to arrest proved far from easy.

Inspector Akiyoshi gradually grew haggard. And the case had begun to seem labyrinthine. If customers who visited the shop on the day Old Man Chan was killed had come forward, the inspector would have secured a crucial lead. Yet no one stepped forward. It was only natural. They feared being implicated.

Mr. Kanaya spoke.

The news of the old antique dealer’s murder in Kaigan-dori Alley had become a newspaper article by the next morning. Mr. Kanaya, who was in charge of the group including boys Haruki and Ushimaru, also read this newspaper article. And he immediately realized.

"Ah, I see. That shop. Yesterday I peered into the display window—that shoddy antique dealer who had ostentatiously displayed the broken gold coin. So the master of that house was killed. If I had known that, I would have gotten a better look at his face."

And Mr. Kanaya felt a slight twinge of regret. When Mr. Kanaya arrived at school, he eagerly chattered away about this story in the staff room. “He was an old man with a long white beard. He looked exactly like someone who had been saving up small sums of money. Come to think of it, he had a plump face but there was an air of severity about him somehow. After all, his own tragic fate was written all over his features.”

Because he spoke in this manner, the listening teachers wanted to hear more details. "Oh, that’s all there is to it." "I thought about going inside," said Mr. Kanaya,"but when Ms. Tachibana—who was with me—scowled like that,I decided against it." "If I’d gone in then,I could’ve shared a much more interesting story with you all."

When Mr. Kanaya said that, all the listening teachers laughed.

At that moment, Ms. Tachibana entered. "My, everyone, what could you possibly be finding so amusing?" she asked with a smile.

“Ahaha! Mr. Kanaya says he peeked into that international antique dealer Chan’s shop yesterday—the one who was murdered.” “My, what a dreadful topic.” Ms. Tachibana furrowed her lovely brows. “Because Mr. Kanaya was saying things like ‘If I’d known the shop owner would be killed, I would’ve gone inside to scrutinize everything,’ we were all laughing about it just now.” “I don’t wish to hear any more of these morbid stories.”

"He said that since Ms. Tachibana, who was with him, had been standing behind him with a stern look on her face, he ultimately abandoned the idea of entering."

“Huh?!” Ms. Tachibana turned to face Mr. Kanaya with a stern expression but immediately softened her features. “Mr. Kanaya. You shouldn’t engage in unnecessary chatter. If you were thought to be involved and dragged to the police, wouldn’t that be troublesome?” she lightly chided.

“I give up!” “I’ve been completely outmaneuvered here!” “I take it all back!”

With that, Mr. Kanaya became completely crestfallen. The colleagues found this utterly hilarious and doubled over with laughter.

Mr. Kanaya, feeling awkward, stood up alone from his seat and went out to the playground. On the playground, students who had arrived early at school were energetically bouncing around.

"Mr. Kanaya." Hearing his name called, he snapped back to awareness and turned toward the voice. Four boys stepped forward in unison. Among them was Haruki Kiyoshi's face. The other three were Kotama-kun, Yokomitsu-kun, and Tahata-kun. "What's the matter? You're being unusually formal." With that, Mr. Kanaya surveyed the faces of the students in his charge.

“Mr. Kanaya. “We four have promised to form a Boys’ Detective Club.” “That’s why we would like you to become the advisor for our Boys’ Detective Club, Mr. Kanaya.” The boys’ talk was an unexpected proposal.

“So, a Boys’ Detective Club.” “And what exactly would be the purpose of forming such a thing?” “Our primary objective is to rescue our classmate Ushimaru-kun as quickly as possible.” “The police will handle that.” “There’s no need for you children to get involved.” “But we can’t rely solely on the police.” “After all, even now they haven’t taken any visible action whatsoever.” “That’s because these adversaries are formidable—the authorities likely require substantial preparation time.” “Even if you went out there yourselves, it would prove futile.” “The opposition is simply too powerful.” “You’d only end up being crushed in retaliation.”

Mr. Kanaya, envisioning the ill fate that would surely befall the boys, opposed their plan. But the boys did not back down because of that. Haruki Kiyoshi continued speaking. "The second purpose is to succeed in finding a treasure rare in the world." “What?! What do you mean by 'a treasure hunt rare in the world'...?" “Mr. Kanaya. I think that Ushimaru-kun’s kidnapping is actually related to this treasure hunt too. And in truth, I believe that where I was supposed to be taken, the bandits mistakenly took Ushimaru-kun instead.”

“I can’t make heads or tails of what you’re saying.” “You won’t understand unless I explain everything from the very beginning of this incident. Actually, Ushimaru-kun and I climbed Mount Kannuki together recently…” Haruki then confided everything to Mr. Kanaya without omission—from encountering old man Togura before Ikoma Waterfall and receiving the Golden Medal’s half-fragment along with instructions written on silk cloth, to ultimately losing the medal.

Mr. Kanaya was astonished—at first responding with things like "Oh?" and "How interesting"—but by the end, he crossed his arms, stiffened his posture, and began fervently pressing with questions like "Hmm, what happened next?" and "That’s terrible. So, what did you do?" "This is part of the burnt silk handkerchief that survived." As Haruki Kiyoshi handed it to Mr. Kanaya, the teacher’s tension reached its peak.

“I see. “This is genuine.” “This has turned into quite a mess.” Mr. Kanaya tilted his head there and remained silent for a while, but soon, after glancing around, he said in a low voice.

“Haruki.” “Yesterday I saw what appeared to be half of your stolen Golden Medal fragment—in an antique shop’s display window along an alley off Coastal Avenue.”

“What?!” “Mr. Kanaya, is that true?” “Whether it’s genuine or not, it closely resembled the crescent-shaped Golden Medal you described.” “From your account, I’d say the man living in the Inari shrine’s hall sold it to that shop.” “Ah! That must be it!” “Mr. Kanaya, what’s the name of that shop?” “Where is it?” “Please tell me.” “I’ll go right now and get it back.”

This time，it was Haruki’s turn to become wildly agitated.

“Wait a moment, Haruki-kun. The old proprietor of that shop was killed by someone with a pistol yesterday. Didn’t you see this morning’s newspaper?” “Ah! I see! So that ‘Murder of Chanfu-Go’s Owner’ splashed across this morning’s paper in huge letters refers to that shop!” “Exactly. Right now they’re scouring every corner hunting for the killer—if someone like you carelessly goes there, you’ll get snatched up as a suspect in no time. Then who knows when you’d ever see daylight again.”

Mr. Kanaya’s apprehension was entirely justified. However, Haruki Kiyoshi judged it permissible to inform the police about these developments. He reasoned that speaking promptly would prove advantageous for reclaiming the Golden Medal displayed in the shop’s window.

When he voiced this idea, the teacher was at a loss. (Oh no, I've gone and talked too much again.) Even though Ms. Tachibana had just sternly warned me, I forgot and spoke again. If I'm not careful, I might get dragged off by the police as a material witness or suspect. (This has turned into a real mess.) The teacher's dejection was terrible.

Harsh Interrogation

“Leader. Where on earth have you been? For these past two days, we’ve broken our backs searching for you! And still couldn’t make contact. All that sweat for nothing—just left us worn out.” Shima Kenshaku went before the leader’s platform where he had planted himself heavily, and Kido—the mountain stronghold’s chief steward—poured out his litany of grievances. Kido appeared thoroughly spent. “Hngh.” Shima merely snorted dismissively.

“From now on, unless you prepare a reliable means of communication for us, I won’t be able to maintain control of this mountain stronghold in an emergency.” Kido seemed genuinely angry for the first time in a while. “It’s fine. If something happens, I’ll come rushing in—no need to worry.” “Even if we have critical information to share from our side, being unable to contact you would ultimately mean catastrophic losses for you, Leader.”

“So you had something to tell me.” “What was it?” “It wasn’t me.” “Dr. Tsukue found something.” “That was three days ago—the Doctor went into town.” “Hmm.” “Three days ago, you say?” The Leader behind his veil appeared to be counting backward through the days.

“That was the day of Chanfu’s murder.” “That’s correct. That afternoon, Dr. Tsukue came rushing back here breathlessly and urgently demanded, ‘Where is the Leader?’ When I asked what was wrong, he said, ‘There’s not a moment to lose—I have something to report to the Leader.’ When I pressed him about it, he told me, ‘Half of the Golden Medal is being sold in the display window of a shop on Coastal Street.’ I was shocked, I tell you.”

“What happened next?” The Leader grew agitated and pressed for details. The veil beneath his crown swayed faintly. “Then began our search for you, Leader. We roused everyone and combed through every possible location. But it was futile. Dr.Tsukue kept badgering us—‘Any news yet? Still nothing?’ It was maddening. After three days, we had nothing to show.” “Fools. Why didn’t you purchase it immediately upon discovery?”

“Oh. I’d rather you didn’t say that.” “In this mountain stronghold, there’s a strict rule that nothing can be done without an order from Leader Shima Kenshaku.” “This is the rule you yourself established, Leader.” “Fine, then fine.

“Then call Dr. Tsukue here.”

“Yes.” After Kido left, Dr.Tsukue soon appeared in his place within the room, his elongated frame materializing through the doorway. Unlike Kido’s agitation, he maintained perfect composure. He approached until facing the Leader across the broad desk before settling into a rigid square-backed chair. “Do you require something?”

“I just heard from Kido that three days ago, at a shop on Coastal Street, you found a half-piece of the Golden Medal.” “I found it by chance.” “I immediately went to great lengths to inform you, Leader, but unfortunately you proved unreachable.” “Is it genuine?” “Well now, I authenticated it as genuine.” “Moreover, it wasn’t the half-piece you previously possessed, Leader, but rather its matching counterpart.” “Crescent-shaped, with what seemed to be a skeleton’s profile in relief.”

“Did you actually pick it up?” “I did indeed take it in hand. In case it was counterfeit and I would only earn your reprimand for reporting it to you, Leader, I placed it on my palm and tested its specific gravity. It is undoubtedly made of high-purity gold. When I asked about the price, he said three hundred thousand yen. That heartless old proprietor named Chanfu, you see.” “Three hundred thousand?” The Leader paused briefly before saying, “It must be three hundred thousand yen.”

“No doubt,” “But why would the Leader ask such a thing?” “Because it’s an exorbitant price.” Dr.Tsukue laughed scornfully—a dry “Hmph”— “However, since this serves as the guide to that treasure vault, three hundred thousand yen seems a bargain.” “That’s too steep for merchandise from that shop—and what did you do?”

“What else could I do? I immediately rushed back to the mountain stronghold and started raising a huge commotion to notify the Leader. Where in the world did you go, Leader?” Without responding, the Leader sharply hurled his words at Dr.Tsukue. “Didn’t you pull some trick in front of Chanfu’s shop?” “A trick, you say? Outrageous. I perform surgeries, but I don’t perform tricks.” With that declaration, Dr.Tsukue blustered.

A brief silence fell between the two of them. Suddenly, Dr. Tsukue spoke up. “I didn’t kill Chanfu. I have no reason to kill such a decrepit old man… More importantly, Leader. Why don’t you quickly go to that shop and bring back the Golden Medal? After all, the fragment you’d been holding until now was stolen by Cat Woman—you must be feeling lonely without it. If we could get hold of that one—”

“Enough.” “There’s no Golden Medal left in that shop.” “Did the killer who murdered Chan take it, or…” “Or…” “Well, let’s not say it.” “Leader.” “Speak plainly!” “Are you implying I stole it?” “I don’t know.” “I’ve investigated everything until today—no leads.”

The Leader said in an unusually disappointed tone.

Life in the Prison Cell

After that, Ushimaru Heitarou, the boy, had remained confined within the prison cell. Since that incident, he had not once been brought before the Leader again, nor had he been tormented by his underlings. Rather, Ushimaru Heitarou had come to be forgotten by the people of the mountain stronghold.

Ushimaru Heitarou, the boy, was bored and overwhelmed. He eagerly awaited his three meals a day. Those meals were brought methodically by a man who could neither speak nor hear. He was sometimes called "Kodake-san". In any case, Kodake-san’s appearance became the happiest event for Ushimaru Heitarou, the boy, throughout each day. The boy showed a friendly expression toward Kodake-san, but Kodake-san never seemed to perceive it. He always wore a vacant, half-asleep expression. Ushimaru Heitarou, the boy, while stifled by boredom, gradually developed a single wish. It was the hope that he might someday converse with old man Togura—the one who had been summoned alongside him before the Leader.

That old man must certainly have been confined in one of the rooms of this underground prison. Where on earth could that be? And how could he make contact with that old man? Ushimaru Heitarou began considering it as homework, and he was no longer bored at all. However, the answer to this homework did not come easily. "Old Man Togura's cell must be another floor below." Finally, this answer came to the boy's mind. He deduced this from Kodake-san's behavior when delivering meals.

The reason was that Kodake-san always carried the meals in a hand-held metal lunchbox. He would stop in front of Ushimaru Heitarou's cell to deliver the meal, then walk further inward until the clattering sounds of his footsteps and lunchbox revealed he was descending stairs. About five minutes later, Kodake-san would return past Ushimaru's cell. From this pattern, it became clear Old Man Togura must have been confined in a cell one floor below.

(If that old man was being held one floor below, it would be a bit difficult for me to talk with him.) The boy felt disappointed. However, thinking that he might still come up with some clever method, he continued racking his brains and kept close watch on the comings and goings before his cell. Dr. Tsukue passed by once early in the morning. However, he did not stop by Ushimaru Heitarou’s cell. Apparently, Dr. Tsukue seemed to be going downstairs to examine Old Man Togura. The old man must have been unwell for quite some time. One evening, Kodake-san came around to collect the dishes. As usual, he had a cloth covering his cheeks with a misshapen pale brown hunting cap atop it. He rapped on the iron bars and urged Ushimaru Heitarou to quickly hand over the dishes.

Ushimaru, holding the dishes in both hands, went to the entrance. And meeting the gaze of the person waiting beyond the iron bars, he was startled. “Shht!” The man raised a finger to his lips and cautioned him to be quiet. The figure with cloth-covered cheeks and a hunting cap had the familiar form of Kodake-san, but the face was different. It was none other than Old Man Togura, his bearded face resembling a snowman. “Ah! You—why are you here…?” “Quietly now—I came here risking danger because there’s something I need to ask you.”

With that, the old man placed the lunchbox on the floor, pressed his face against the iron bars, and began speaking rapidly to Ushimaru-kun. The conversation mainly concerned Haruki Kiyoshi. Yet the old man never once mentioned the golden medal he had given Haruki. What he sought to learn appeared to be Haruki-kun's safety. But through Ushimaru Heitarou's account, Old Man Togura came to understand that Haruki Kiyoshi faced peril. He therefore told Ushimaru-kun he wished to devise some means of warning Haruki-kun.

“Please let me escape from here,” Ushimaru said. “If you do that, I’ll definitely pass your message to Haruki-kun.” The old man replied he would consider it and left the spot. He appeared to turn back toward the inner area and descend the stairs. Some time later, he came to Ushimaru’s cell once again—but this time it wasn’t Old Man Togura disguised as Kodake-san. It was the real Kodake-san.

Ushimaru thought with mild surprise. And a single question sprang up.

(Something's off. How had Old Man Togura communicated with Kodake-san—who couldn't speak or hear—and convinced him to agree to disguise himself?)

It was truly a mysterious affair. Could it be that Kodake-san was intentionally putting on an act? Having thought that, the boy Ushimaru Heitarou handed over the empty dishes while speaking to Kodake-san. Then Kodake-san shook his head from side to side, pointed to his ears and mouth, gestured that he couldn't speak or hear, and immediately left.

"Hmm..." "So Kodake-san really can't speak or hear after all?" Ushimaru Heitaro sighed.

After that, Ushimaru continued patiently speaking to Kodake-san each time. But Kodake-san’s attitude remained unchanged.

However, on the third day after that, something unexpected occurred.

It happened after dinner when Kodake-san came to collect the dishes. When Ushimaru Heitarou tried to hand two plates and a soup cup through the small window to Kodake-san after finishing his meal—no, since he believed he had already finished handing them over, it must have been Kodake-san who let them slip—the plates fell onto the floor of his cell and shattered into fragments that scattered everywhere. Ushimaru turned pale. He thought he was about to be glared at with a terrifying expression and scolded by Kodake-san.

Kodake-san did not do so. He took out a key and opened the cell door. Then quietly stepping inside, he began gathering the fragments. He was collecting the fragments into the lunchbox. Ushimaru grew increasingly apologetic at Kodake-san’s calm demeanor, and he too began gathering the fragments with desperate earnestness.

After some time, it was over. Kodake-san stood up as he was and went outside. Then he locked the entrance and left. Ushimaru, who had initially thought he would be severely scolded given Kodake-san’s calm demeanor, found it all the more unexpected and watched Kodake-san’s retreating figure through the small window.

At that moment, he was lightly tapped on the back from behind.

He was shocked—utterly shocked at that moment! There was no one else in this cell besides him. And so the boy, startled, leaped up on the spot. He turned around. “Ah!”

“Be quiet!”

A monster—covered from head to toe in a white cloth that draped down to the hem—let out a child's voice. The white cloth came away, revealing the boy's face within.

“Ah, Haruki-kun!” “Ushimaru-kun. “I’m glad you stayed safe, Ushimaru-kun.” “You came to rescue me, didn’t you?” “You really came all the way to such a dangerous place...”

The two boys clung to each other in a tight embrace, their cheeks pressed together as tears flowed without end. Why had Haruki Kiyoshi infiltrated this dreadful mountain stronghold? And why had Kodake-san quietly allowed Haruki Kiyoshi to slip into this prison cell? That night, Haruki Kiyoshi’s adventurous tale was recounted in detail to Ushimaru-kun. In addition to explaining what had become of Ushimaru-kun’s household since then, along with school matters, police developments, and the murder of Old Man Chan, Haruki-kun had much to tell Ushimaru-kun.

As for Ushimaru-kun’s side, since being brought to this mountain stronghold, he too had much to tell about his experiences here. Among these matters, there were stories unknown to readers that I wished to recount here, but I could not do so now. This was because a terrible calamity was now looming over Dr. Tsukue. That individual’s circumstances had to be recorded first.

Trap vs. Trap

A magnificently luxurious curtain embroidered with golden thread depicting four-headed dragons hung behind the leader’s platform.

On the platform sat only a single chair intended for the leader, with no human figure occupying it. No, there was no one in this room now. Behind the curtain, a faint sound could occasionally be heard.

Could the leader be working on something at this late hour? At this hour, even the most hard-drinking young men among the mountain stronghold’s people should have been in bed, snoring loudly for a full hour already. 3 AM. Here in the mountain stronghold as well, it was now past the hour of the ox—the dead of night. Who could it be? Who was making that quiet noise in the inner chamber of the Yellow Dragon? That very person was Dr. Tsukue.

Dr.Tsukue was alone. Dr.Tsukue raised his eyebrows with veins bulging on his forehead and searched through the Yellow Dragon chamber with utmost seriousness. He opened the desk drawers. He opened and examined every cabinet. He pulled out the secret vault from the wall and thoroughly inspected it. He checked all fixtures and furniture before moving to lightly tap along the walls. He had thought there might be a top-secret hiding place unknown to him. But everything proved futile.

(Nothing. Absolutely nothing. (I wonder if they wouldn’t leave anything related to the Golden Medal in a place like this.)

Dr.Tsukue bit his lip in frustration. I'm certain I saw them store the Golden Medal in this room before... Even if Cat Woman stole it, given how sharp-witted that Leader is, he must have properly preserved photos of the medal and related documents... But I just can't find them anywhere. Dr.Tsukue had in his possession a half-sheet photograph of the crescent-shaped Golden Medal that he had secretly taken at Chanfu-Go's shop. If the Leader kept in his room the half-sheet photograph of the fan-shaped fragment that Cat Woman had taken from him, he thought he wanted to obtain it. And if he could compare both fragments, he was certain that the secret of this Golden Medal would be unraveled. There's no need to stake one's life to obtain the real Golden Medal—as long as you have photographs, that's more than enough. If I could just decipher the cipher engraved there, the great treasure vault's location would undoubtedly become clear. I'm a better actor than the Leader and his ilk, Dr.Tsukue thought.

But when he finally searched there in the Yellow Dragon chamber where he had been so certain, the item he sought was nowhere to be found. Dr. Tsukue was unbearably frustrated. As he crossed his arms and sank into thought, “Hands up!” “You good-for-nothing!” A fierce rebuke rang out from the entrance.

Before anyone realized, Leader Shima had parted the Yellow Dragon curtain, his massive frame thrusting out his favored poison rod from within his long sleeve. “Guh!” Dr. Tsukue turned pale and swiftly raised both hands. That poison rod was engineered so that a single press of its button would drive ten drill bits—each tipped with a dreadful toxin—deep into the victim’s flesh simultaneously. The very poison coating those drills had been concocted by Dr. Tsukue himself, making him more acutely aware of its virulence than anyone alive. This was precisely why he had turned pale and raised his hands.

“For some time now, I’ve thought your behavior seemed off—what on earth were you trying to do in this room?”

The Leader condemned the doctor in a voice that maintained perfect composure yet carried unmistakable hatred. Dr. Tsukue kept his mouth tightly shut. “Speak.” “If you don’t talk, this thing comes flying.” “Do you want a taste of those terrifying poison darts you know so well, or will you talk?” “If by any chance you have a photograph showing half of the Golden Medal, I merely wished to see it.” “That’s all.”

Dr. Tsukue finally responded.

“That’s all?” The Leader sneered with bitter irony, “Then you’ve brought the crescent-shaped half-sheet from Chanfu-Go’s place.” “No—I won’t permit denials.” “Otherwise you’d have no motive to seek the half-sheet I possess!” Dr. Tsukue vehemently denied this. But the more earnestly Dr. Tsukue pleaded innocence, the more contemptuously the Leader rejected his claims, scoffing that such lies were unbelievable. And finally,

“Exactly.” “Now we’re going to your room.” “I’ll do back to you exactly what you did in this room.” “I’ll ransack every item and perform a complete search.”

“Ah! That’s… Leader. “Please forgive me!” Dr. Tsukue’s attitude abruptly changed, and he appeared to have lost his mind. But immediately, Dr. Tsukue returned to his senses and pleaded for them to refrain from such violence.

“No.” “We’re going to your room.” “Walk ahead.” “If you disobey orders, I’ll let fly the poison darts!” There was no helping it. Dr. Tsukue began to walk dejectedly. The Leader pressed the poison dart gun firmly against his back. “You brought this on yourself.” “Trying to outwit the Leader—that’s an act of rebellion.” “You know what the punishment is for acts of rebellion, don’t you?” As Dr.Tsukue faced forward and dragged his heavy feet onward, an enigmatic smile surfaced on his face.

(Just wait—I’ll show you something soon. I mustn’t lose my nerve when that time comes. Hmph. You’re kindly walking right into the trap I set. I’ll strip off that disguise of Shima Kenshaku’s before long.) Dr. Tsukue’s secret sinister smile, of course, could not have been seen by the Leader. The Leader too wore a secretive smile at the corners of his mouth. (Just watch. This time—this very time—I’ll deal that scheming Dr. Tsukue a fatal blow. You’ll drown in your own wicked schemes. And you still haven’t noticed that? You’re not as clever as you think.)

It was a duel of deception between fox and wolf. Which was the fox, and which was the wolf? It was impossible to tell which was which without observing them for some time.

Finally, Dr. Tsukue opened the door to his own room. At that moment, he sensed something strange behind him and, startled, tried to turn around. “Don’t turn around. Face forward.” The Leader shouted angrily. Dr. Tsukue flinched and turned his head back to face front. However, when he turned just now, he had caught a glimpse of something—he thought there was another tall figure beside the Leader. “Get inside quickly.” Dr. Tsukue was grabbed by the back.

There, he stepped into the room. The room had been turned into a darkroom. Only a few pink neon lights were dimly lit at key points in the room, faintly indicating the locations of the furniture and machinery within.

“Brighten up the room. This is too dark—I can’t see a thing.” The Leader said. (I’ve been waiting for this!) Dr. Tsukue leapt up inwardly.

“Yes. “I’ll brighten it now. “Please wait just a moment.” “Don’t try anything strange. “I won’t leave your side - keep that in mind.”

The Leader stepped into the room.

“It’s alright.” “I won’t try anything funny.” “There’s oily machinery there...” “I’ll turn...” Dr.Tsukue resolutely advanced deeper into the room. He went around to the back of the square machine placed against the wall. Dr.Tsukue's face once again bore a sinister smile.

*Now.* The time has come to strip off your disguise. Be prepared!

Dr.Tsukue flipped the switch. This was none other than the large X-ray device he had been designing and assembling throughout this period. The apparatus emitted wide-angle X-rays that illuminated entire human bodies, projecting their skeletal images onto a massive fluorescent screen—two meters wide and three meters tall—hanging at the room's center. This had been his scheme all along: using radiation to penetrate the Leader's perpetual mask and expose his true form. Now that chance had arrived unexpectedly soon. The Leader himself had approached and entered this very room. Perfect. Dr.Tsukue could no longer restrain his exhilaration.

Suddenly, fluorescence illuminated the screen. With remarkable precision, the Leader’s full-body X-ray image appeared on the screen. Amidst the faintly visible outlines of clothing and a crown, a stark black skeletal figure was vividly projected. This was the Leader’s skeletal structure.

"Ah!" The Leader noticed.

He raised the poison arrow-loaded blowgun he was holding. That posture was projected onto the screen exactly as it was. The terrifying skeleton moved as if alive and, burning with rage, raised the rod. The terrifying spectacle was such that it defied both brush and canvas.

Bang. The poison arrow-loaded blowgun flew toward Dr. Tsukue. And then, all the lights in the room went out. Complete darkness fell. And then, in rapid succession, came the sounds of various objects breaking. Dr. Tsukue made no sound. The Leader also made no sound.

Dr. Tsukue had seen something terrifying.

Through the Leader’s skeletal image, his true identity was revealed to be something truly bizarre. That was indeed a small man. That small man was standing on stilts about one meter high attached to his legs. On top of that, he was wearing a Chinese-style robe with the hem pulled up high. Had X-rays not been used to see through him like this, the Leader’s secret might never have come to light. So was the true identity of Leader Shima that of a small man?

In this room, there were two others who had witnessed this terrifying spectacle. They were Haruki Kiyoshi and Ushimaru Heitarou—the boys who had sneaked into the room earlier. The two boys were so terrified, they could no longer feel alive. Now, how would this pitch-dark room’s situation unfold?

Secret Escape Tunnel

(So our Leader was a small man?!)

Dr. Tsukue was so unexpectedly struck to the core that he remained dazed for some time amid the danger.

He had thought the Leader was someone else entirely, but that expectation was proven completely mistaken when he exposed the Leader to X-rays. (But there was still something that didn’t sit right with him. Once before, he had secretly brought a flashlight close under the Leader’s face and glimpsed the countenance beneath the veiled mask—the Leader’s face at that time had been a well-proportioned, distinguished one. A face so beautiful it could be mistaken for a woman’s…)

And in Dr. Tsukue’s mind, the answer remained unresolved, swirling in a vortex. Earlier, when I illuminated the Leader’s face with X-rays and caught him flinching in surprise, I should have swiftly leaped forward, lifted that veil, and confirmed what his true face looked like. But he did not do that. What an inexcusable lapse. Of course, had he done such a thing, the Leader might have struck him dead with a poisoned needle in one blow. All these considerations hadn’t taken long—they were thoughts that had raced through Dr. Tsukue’s mind like lightning as he cowered beneath the looming danger.

With a crash, objects were thrown once again and came raining down on Dr. Tsukue’s head. And the Leader’s rough breathing gradually drew nearer.

(This is bad. If this keeps up, I’ll be killed. I need to find a way to escape somehow. Will I manage to reach that entrance leading to the underground storeroom? I wonder if I can stay alive until I open this entrance door.) What Dr. Tsukue remembered was that in the eastern corner of this room lay an entrance leading to the underground storeroom. This was a secret storage room he had built to hide instruments and materials he didn’t want others to see—within this mountain stronghold, no one but him knew of its existence. Within that underground storeroom lay an escape tunnel; by passing through it, one could emerge outside the mountain stronghold. However, it was located on a steep cliff, and descending from there to the highway required special tools. Yet this escape tunnel opening on the steep cliff was thought—and Dr. Tsukue remained fully confident—to pose little risk of being noticed by others. He wanted to leap into the escape tunnel’s path. Whether he would reach the entrance safely or not.

(Do it!) With things having come to this, Dr. Tsukue steeled his resolve, deciding there was no choice but to entrust his fate to heaven. Bracing himself to incur two or three injuries, Dr. Tsukue groped through the darkness and crawled sideways.

I just have to try anything. The raging Leader’s attacks did not pursue Dr. Tsukue’s moving body. Still convinced the Doctor remained hidden in his original spot, he kept hurling heavy objects with clattering thuds. Therefore, Dr. Tsukue was instead able to slip through danger and, his heart pounding with elation, managed to wrench open the trapdoor embedded at the entrance.

There was a slight sound. But with the room still clattering noisily around them, such a faint noise stood little chance of reaching anyone's ears. Dr. Tsukue slipped his body beneath the trapdoor with a triumphant grin. The tips of his feet brushed against stairs. Success was his now. He fully entered the space. Then he quietly shut the trapdoor. No signs indicated anyone giving chase. Dr. Tsukue exhaled a relieved sigh.

Now that he had come this far, Dr. Tsukue felt he had effectively escaped the slaughterer’s grasp. He descended the stairs, groping with hands and feet. He reached the stairway’s bottom. There hung two layers of thick curtains. Beyond them lay a storage room of considerable size. Dr. Tsukue pushed through the curtains and entered. Inside was pitch black.

“Oh!”

“The battery-powered light is off today.” There had always been a battery-powered light there that illuminated the room—one that remained lit regardless of power outages. Today, unfortunately, it was off. Had some malfunction occurred? While pondering this, Dr. Tsukue groped through impenetrable darkness where even pinching one’s nose wouldn’t reveal a thing, dragging his feet as he advanced perhaps five or six steps—when a great shock awaited him. Suddenly both his wrists were firmly seized by someone.

“Ohoho, I’ve been waiting for you, Doctor.”

In the darkness came a voice that was unmistakably a woman's. Who was this?

Oh—it was Cat Woman.

“Who are you?!” Dr.Tsukue, utterly shocked, finally managed to hurl these brief words at his assailant in a hoarse voice. “It’s me, you see.” “I’m Cat Woman.” “A pleasure.” “Wh-what? Cat Woman…” Dr.Tsukue’s astonishment quintupled. “Cat Woman—why are you here—” “Don’t raise your voice now.” “Upstairs, as you can see, a whole crowd’s gathered.” Indeed, upstairs seethed with chaotic footsteps—the Leader must have summoned everyone to search for whoever had vanished.

“This might feel awkward, but I’ll have you move your hands behind your back.” Cat Woman was terrifyingly strong. She effortlessly twisted Dr.Tsukue’s hands behind his back and clamped handcuffs on with a clank. “What do you intend to do with me?” Cat Woman had stolen half of the Golden Medal from the Leader before. Thus she was the Leader’s enemy now. He himself had also become the Leader’s enemy at this point. In that case, he thought, Cat Woman could join hands with him as allies. Dr.Tsukue wanted to demand why she was tormenting him.

“There’s something I want from you.” “Since I know you won’t hand it over willingly, I’ll be conducting a body search right here.” “What?! What do you want?!”

In response to Dr. Tsukue's question voiced with uneasy resonance, Cat Woman gave no answer. Through the murk she probed his person, the room devoid of illumination nor flashlight employed. Through absolute blackness Cat Woman methodically carried out her work, her eyesight piercing shadows like a true feline's. This realization made Dr. Tsukue's apprehension swell.

“Ah, this is it—what you thought you’d caught the prize and were so pleased about…”

Finally, Cat Woman seemed to have located what she was after and extracted a small roll of film from Dr. Tsukue’s underwear pocket. “That’s not it. That’s nothing.” Dr. Tsukue made one final effort. However, Cat Woman showed no intention of returning that film. And after thoroughly completing the body search, “I’ll be taking this film I found earlier. You’re quite the resourceful one. Wasn’t it you who killed Chan-fu?” she mocked the Doctor.

“Nonsense! When I last saw Old Man Chan, he had a face that looked like he would live another hundred years. It wasn’t me who killed that greedy old man.” “Hmph. You can say whatever you like. But since I’m neither family nor anything else to Chan-fu, I don’t plan to take revenge on you. But whether you did it or not—God knows full well. So I’ll prepare you to receive God’s judgment.”

Cat Woman said something strange. As Dr. Tsukue tried unraveling the meaning behind those words, someone suddenly blindfolded him. Naturally, it was Cat Woman’s doing. She bound his eyes tightly with two layers of cloth. Dr. Tsukue was gripped by terror and began to protest. Then something like a handkerchief was shoved into his mouth. When he gasped in shock, cloth was wound around and around over his mouth. He could no longer utter a sound. Cat Woman’s efficiency was utterly astonishing.

Then Cat Woman wound a rope around and around Dr. Tsukue’s body. When that was done, the woman tapped Dr. Tsukue on the lower back, “Now, get walking. You’re going out through the escape tunnel you prepared.”

Cat Woman knew everything. Left speechless by his adversary's sheer brilliance, Dr. Tsukue could only tremble with frustration and terror.

He walked and emerged from the tunnel. A chill ran down his neck as he sensed it. No—there was more. Under the blindfold existed the slightest gap through which outside light could be perceived. This resulted from how Dr.Tsukue had intensely contorted his face when first blindfolded. They had applied the blindfold over his scrunched features, which later relaxed to create slackness. This technique had been known to the Doctor for years. Now he faintly discerned brightness near his feet. Not just light—could shapes be distinguished? Beneath the blindfold, Dr.Tsukue persistently squinted and screwed up his eyes.

After leaving his side for a while and doing something over there, Cat Woman now returned to Dr. Tsukue’s side. “Now, come over here.” Dr. Tsukue was made to walk again. He was made to walk over rough, jagged rocks. The edge of the cliff was not far off. If he were to misstep, it would be disastrous.

“Stop there.” “Now hold your breath for the next two or three seconds.” Cat Woman said something peculiar. Dr. Tsukue wanted to ask what she meant, but couldn’t speak. He desperately tried to see anything through the gap in his blindfold. A rocky edge came into view. Ah! I’m standing at the edge of a cliff! Dr. Tsukue shuddered. This was dire. One misstep would send him tumbling down the cliff to shatter his bones and end his life. Dangerous. "Help!" Dr. Tsukue tried to scream, but no sound emerged.

“Don’t struggle now. I’ll make this quick.” Cat Woman approached Dr. Tsukue. What was she going to do? At that moment, through a gap in his blindfold, he caught a glimpse of part of Cat Woman’s clothing. He also saw her legs. The skirt was made of dark green fabric—short. Beneath it stretched long, well-shaped legs. Both were there. She wore light flesh-colored stockings. And her shoes were ankle boots. They were stylish ankle boots of sporty leather and canvas, the kind suited for a young woman. Having seen only that much at a glance, Dr. Tsukue regretted being unable to see above Cat Woman’s waist.

However, Cat Woman’s true nature defied all expectations one might form from her green outfit, long sturdy legs, flesh-colored stockings, and stylish ankle boots favored by sporty young women—attire far more refined than her coarse manner of speech suggested. What kind of person was she? What sort of face lay beneath—he’d barely begun wondering when his body was suddenly shoved with a violent “Hyah!”

A stifled "Ugh"—the anguished cry remained trapped in his throat.

His feet had already left the edge of the cliff. His body floated in midair!

Ah, Dr. Tsukue’s life hung by a thread now like a candle before the wind. Will he die, this eccentric villainous doctor? Or will his ill luck prove strong enough to leave him dangling from the raw cliff edge?

The mountain stronghold in turmoil

What had become of the two boys? Haruki Kiyoshi and Ushimaru Heitarou, who had sneaked into Dr. Tsukue’s darkroom, unexpectedly witnessed a fierce struggle between the Doctor and the Leader. The X-rays Dr. Tsukue had directed at the Leader revealed his true form as a small, skeletal man on the green fluorescent screen. They saw that grotesque sight too. Afterwards, with objects being hurled violently about, the room plunged into pitch darkness, making it extremely dangerous to remain there.

“Let’s get out of this room.”

“Yeah. We can get out now.” Haruki and Ushimaru, like puppies, quickly darted out of the room. “Ah. Wait.” “Shh!” Ushimaru had stepped outside a moment before Haruki but immediately recoiled in surprise. He pushed Haruki back as he followed behind. He had spotted a figure in the hallway ahead. The figure turned the corner almost simultaneously with Ushimaru emerging, leaving him only a fleeting glimpse of its retreating back. The figure appeared tall and seemed to wear a long overcoat. The exact details remained unclear. The only distinct feature he saw was one leg. It was a long shin clad in light blue trousers. And was wearing flashy ankle boots favored by sports enthusiasts.

Sporty ankle boots appeared to be trending. Wasn't that so? Who could that person be—the one who had gone over there?

Ushimaru tilted his head in puzzlement. However, he had no intention of chasing after that figure. He thought it was just fine that they had gone over there. Taking advantage of this opening, they would make their escape as quickly as possible. “Alright, let’s run. If we do it now, we can head back to the underground cell.” Ushimaru urged Haruki and ran through the hallway as if weaving through it. He had studied and memorized the mountain stronghold’s layout. Fortunately, he was able to run back to the underground cell with Haruki.

There, Togura Yasomarou was waiting.

The old man had been pressed close against jailer Kodake, but when the boys entered, he separated. Kodake-san had been gagged with a monkey-muzzle gag, his limbs bound tightly in coils and tied to a chair. Only Kodake-san’s eyes were free to move. His eyes, which usually held a drowsy dullness, now looked at everyone with lively clarity. There was neither resentment nor smoldering anger in his expression.

“Alright, we’ll be off.” “I leave the rest to you.” “From now on, I’ll pray for your safety every day.” “And don’t lose your temper.”

With that, Togura Yasomarou lightly tapped Kodake's shoulder, tears welling up in his eyes. Then, Kodake jerked his chin two or three times.

“Hurry up and go,” he seemed to urge. From this observation, it became clear there existed a secret understanding between Togura Yasomarou and Kodake. That Kodake had been bound must certainly have been part of their mutual arrangement. Guided by Togura Yasomarou, Haruki Kiyoshi and Ushimaru Heitarou fled the mountain stronghold. The method to reach the escape tunnel was something Togura Yasomarou knew thoroughly. He properly possessed keys to open all crucial doors. Before opening them, how to skillfully disable the alarm system’s electrical components was also knowledge the old man held.

What surprised Ushimaru more than anything was how energetic the old man had become. Even when in his cell or summoned before the Leader, the old man had always appeared like a critically ill patient who couldn't take a single step. This could only mean he'd been deliberately feigning severe sickness all along. Yet no matter how skillfully the old man navigated escape tunnel after escape tunnel, he shouldn't have been able to slip through every gap in Shima Kenshaku's cunningly woven security net. But astonishing luck favored the old man and two boys, enabling their flawless escape from the mountain stronghold. This fortune stemmed from the stronghold's current chaos over Dr.Tsukue's incident - guards at critical posts had grown lax in their duties.

After all, it was a horrific incident.

One of the gang members who had gone on an errand to town and just returned near the mountain stronghold happened to look up and spotted something strange. A person with their body tightly bound in coils dangled from the end of a long pole resembling a utility pole that extended sideways from the cliff, swaying back and forth. “Holy crap, that’s dangerous!” The messenger was a man named Senba Kōjirō. He was so shocked his guts froze, plopping down on his rear with a heavy thud right there. As he watched, the figure swayed even more violently—now the rope looked ready to slip from the pole’s end, about to send whoever was dangling there plummeting straight down the cliff. After waiting for his composure to return, Kōjirō stood up and dashed into the mountain stronghold at a run. He reported this bizarre incident. Of course, the person dangling from that pole had to be Dr. Tsukue. Cat Woman’s figure was nowhere to be seen.

The gang members who had been searching for Dr. Tsukue's whereabouts since Kōjirō's report now rushed out of the mountain stronghold upon hearing this and looked up at the cliff top. “Wahahaha! This is bad! “Can’t stand to watch!”

“That’s definitely Dr. Tsukue.” “Hurry! Set up a net down there!”

“Hey! Did you report this to the Leader?” “I sure did!” “The Leader said he’s coming out here now.”

Because such a commotion had arisen, the escape of the two boys and Togura Yasomarou proceeded with unexpected ease. And while everyone was caught up in the uproar—shouting orders like “Set up nets!”, “Go up to the cliff and quietly pull the rope!”, and “Assemble a bamboo ladder and send a couple men up to rescue him!”—the three fugitives slipped away into the mountains in the opposite direction.

Life-Risking Escape

The two boys and Togura Yasomarou fled through mountain after mountain, helping each other along the way. If they took the main road, they risked being spotted by the Rokuten Mountain Stronghold villains, so they forged through pathless terrain and deliberately took a long detour to flee. Fortunately, since Ushimaru-kun was born in this area and knew the mountains extremely well, they didn’t lose their way. They had emerged from the mountain stronghold around eight o'clock in the morning. For approximately four hours until nearing noon when the sun was at its highest, the three of them forced their way onward in their escape.

They were starving, but Togura Yasomarou had come well-prepared; he took out chocolate and biscuits from the pouch at his waist and distributed them to the two boys. The food was delicious. Moistening their throats with valley water, the three of them summoned fresh energy and resumed their arduous trek. In Ushimaru's estimation, he thought it best to boldly detour westward—emerging from Tanuki Mountain toward Yamahime Mountain and crossing over it to reach Senbonshō Pass. However, reaching that point within a single day proved impossible. It would unquestionably require until tomorrow. Tonight left them no choice but to camp somewhere on Yamahime Mountain.

Once they reached Senbonshō Pass, it would take about four hours of descent to arrive at the innermost shore of the Shibahara Water Source Area. If they could get there, there would be a waterworks bureau hut, and with any luck, patrol personnel might be making their rounds. The rest would be safe. At any rate, the problem lay in reaching Senbonshō Pass. While their sense of direction would probably not fail them, everything now hinged on two factors: whether their collective stamina would hold out, and whether they could successfully evade the eyes of Shima Kenshaku’s gang, who would surely send helicopters in pursuit.

Ushimaru-kun explained to the other two his plan that they must reach Yamahime Mountain today, and that afternoon, while paying particular attention to their surroundings, he had them continue their forced march as much as possible. Around what they estimated to be two o'clock in the afternoon, a thunderous roar indeed rang out from one corner of the sky, and soon a helicopter came into view. “There it comes! “Don’t move. “Don’t move at all!”

Old Man Togura snapped. At that moment, the three were descending a mountain slope thick with low-growing dwarf bamboo. The terrain proved merciless, offering no substantial trees to hide themselves. There they lay face down in the bamboo grass, striving to stay as motionless as rocks. From above, their backs would have been fully visible. So certain were they that machine gun fire would come rattling down at any moment that they barely felt alive.

Fortunately, as the helicopter was heading toward them, it suddenly changed course to the north mid-flight, saving them. They likely never imagined that the three had fled this far west. It was a close call.

The helicopter had pursued them only that one time. They ran down Tanuki Mountain, walked along the stream for a while, and then finally began their ascent up Yamahime Mountain. This two-hour climb proved the most grueling. On steep slopes, they grasped tree roots to inch upward. Dead leaves trapped their feet, sending them sliding down painfully earned slopes—progress lost in sickening slips. Countless times they clutched crumbling ledges with nauseating squelches, faces blanched white. Empty stomachs growled, throats burned dry, vision swam. Repeatedly they nearly collapsed weeping. Yet each stifled complaints, fearing to demoralize companions—teeth gritted through shared resolve. Through this stubborn unity, Yamahime's crags yielded at last to gentler inclines. Then appeared the summit's triangulation tower, backlit by sunset as it stabbed skyward. Forgetting exhaustion, they quickened their pace.

There was a hut at the summit of Yamahime Mountain. It stood right beside the triangulation point. This shelter had been erected by the Land Survey Team, though it remained unmanned more often than not. The three of them entered the vacant structure and resolved to spend the night there.

Dinnertime had arrived, but there were no preparations. However, Old Man Togura had the remaining chocolate and three pieces of dried squid. They gnawed on that to stave off their hunger. Dusk began to fall.

Thinking it should be safe to come out now, the three of them went outside the hut and gazed down at the world below. In the distance, the Shibahara Water Source Area formed a gourd shape, its lake surface glinting dully. The cabin at the lake’s edge—their destination for tomorrow’s journey—appeared no larger than a bean.

*Having come this far,* *they should be safe now.* And all three of them thought the same thing. The lingering glow of the setting sun suddenly faded, and dusk spread its smoke-colored wings and enveloped the surrounding mountains. And then, in the eastern sky, a perfectly round moon rose. It was a full moon.

The three forgot their perilous circumstances for a moment and faced the softly glowing bright moon.

That night, Old Man Togura listened to Haruki-kun recount the events surrounding the Golden Medal up to that point and offered words of deep sympathy for the unexpected hardships the boy had endured. Afterward, Old Man Togura complied with the two boys' questioning and narrated every secret he knew about the two fragments of the Golden Medal fashioned by pirate king Delma beneath the moonlight. “I don’t know everything about the secrets of Delma’s Golden Medal either. If I knew everything, I wouldn’t be dawdling around here—I’d be out there right now, obsessed with digging up that treasure. To be honest, I have only managed to grasp a vague outline of the secrets surrounding Delma’s Golden Medal through hearsay. The crucial secret cannot be unraveled unless you gather both fragments of that Golden Medal first. So my story is just some uninteresting thing to you.”

And the old man studied the eager faces of the two boys. “The silk handkerchief I gave you earlier, Haruki-kun, was burned in the fire and only a third of it remained—or so I heard—but I have memorized the text by heart. Let me try writing this down on the paper.”

With that, the old man took from his pocket the paper that had wrapped some chocolate and smoothed its wrinkles. Then he pulled out a short pencil, licked the tip, and wrote the following text. The bracketed portions contained the characters that remained in Haruki-kun’s possession from the charred fragment. —This Golden Medal is composed of two fragments —crafted by the Spanish pirate Pirate King Delma, on his deathbed, his

the most powerful among his subordinates—Octan and (Hezar)ru—bestowing upon each one fragment (to become) it is said. This fragment

(When the two are combined) it reveals Delma’s sec- (the treasure it contains)—the location of the treasure vault and the vault itself (know how to open) the vault and gain the means to do so— (ri. Octan and He)zaru were on bad terms— (they refused to cooperate) and mutually sought to possess each other’s— (to seize a fragment of the Golden Medal) (sent assassins) against each other, both men (When they fell, the Golden Medal passed into the assassins’ hands— (—and thereafter went missing—) (The fragment here is in Octan’s possession

"(The fragment I possess was obtained) on a certain island in the underground sea (where I acquired this). “Well, this is how it is. “In truth, there’s another silk handkerchief besides this one. “This is something I didn’t have time to give Kiyoshi-kun—what they failed to discover during the harsh interrogations at Rokuten Mountain Stronghold. “It’s hidden inside my shoe. “This here’s the one.” With that, Old Man Togura removed his right shoe and frantically worked at the heel until a small square hole opened in it. What he pulled out was another silk handkerchief. Written on it was the following text.

—Incidentally, pirate king Delma once landed in Japan— It is said he also landed in Japan. He was bold yet meticulous, full of strategy— He had an interest in machinery and skillfully commanded six thousand subordinates. Moreover, his subordinate Hezar— Hezar remained in Japan for one and a half years even after Delma departed, making Awaji Island and its opposite coast his base, where he lived without harming the Japanese people— and thus none knew him as a fearsome pirate it is said. He was steadfast in righteousness, prudent, and most beloved by Delma.

He was beloved by Delma. Octan was a man so brave and valiant that even demons would flee - Octan was such a man.

“So, what do you think? Did you understand the meaning of what you just read?”

With that, Old Man Togura looked between the two boys’ faces.

“I can’t tell if I understand it or not—it’s somewhere in between,” Haruki said. Then Ushimaru laughed. Prompted by this, the old man laughed too. Haruki somehow found himself laughing along with them.

“Well then, let me explain it again in simple terms. “In the end, it’s exactly as written here…”

With that, the old man converted it into spoken words and reviewed the same content again for them. Of course, it was more detailed than what was written on the handkerchief. However, the gist remained the same.

“...When I obtained that half of the Golden Medal, I was serving as a ship’s doctor aboard a steamship passing through the Mediterranean.” “At that time, the steamship I was on developed a rudder malfunction, forcing us to dock at a certain island for repairs.” “This required us to stay there for five days while making temporary fixes.” “During that period, I unexpectedly came into possession of the Golden Medal.” “…How did I obtain it?” “That matter isn’t directly related to the treasure hunt, so I’ll keep it to myself.”

The old man concluded his words with that. There must be something he was finding difficult to say, Haruki thought.

In any case, it was an astonishing matter. Until now, he had dismissed it as nothing more than a mere scrap of metal, but hearing this tale of its origins made it seem like an eerie object housing the ghost of pirate king Delma.

"What a pity I brought about. That being stolen from me is deeply regrettable." Haruki felt genuine remorse clawing at his chest.

“Well, I suppose it can’t be helped. “Now that I’m free, I suppose there must be a way to retrieve it.” “If things go well, I’ll let you know.” “However, you must absolutely keep this a secret from others!”

“Yes.” Haruki answered. However, he recalled that he had already told others about this matter and felt tormented. Though strictly speaking, those he had told were limited to Teacher Kanaya, four members of the Boy Detectives Club, and Ushimaru-kun here present… “Old man, you’ve got some lead on finding that medal, right?” The boy Ushimaru asked.

“Hmm. “Well, that’s the general idea.” “Where’s it at? “Isn’t it an antique shop? “Isn’t it the one on Coastal Street?” Ushimaru recalled the story he had heard from Haruki about Chan-fu’s shop and, taking a shot in the dark, ventured to say it. “Hoh!” Old Man Togura widened his eyes in surprise. “Then tell me the name of that shop.” “It’s the International Antique Dealer Chan-fu Store, isn’t it?” Old Man Togura looked so shocked he nearly collapsed. Regarding the incident at the Chan-fu Store, Haruki had told Ushimaru about it but had not yet informed Old Man Togura.

“How do you know that?” “That shop’s got every kind of item there is, see.” “But you can’t count on that place no more.” “The owner got himself killed, see.” “What’d you say?” “The old proprietor Chan-fu was shot dead with a pistol t’other day, see.” “They ain’t caught the culprit yet neither.” “Heard it from Haruki-kun myself.” “Ridiculous.” “Such a thing couldn’t never happen!” “Ha ha ha ha!”

And then, Old Man Togura suddenly burst out laughing. "Why're you laughin' like that?" Ushimaru asked with a puzzled look, to which Old Man Togura replied: "It's absolutely impossible that Chan-fu could've been killed." "You folks are bein' deceived."

What was going on? The boy Haruki looked startled and stared intently at the old man’s face. Old Man Togura had begun uttering bizarre things. Or did the old man possess some concrete reason for laughing? Old Man Togura regained his vitality, and the case slid once more into an increasingly uncanny direction.

However, high in the sky, a brilliantly clear full moon cast light without a shadow.

Blazing Mountain Stronghold Old Man Togura came out with an odd remark. “It’s absolutely impossible that Chan-fu could’ve been killed." “You folks are being deceived.” Old Man Togura laughed as he said this. That laughter seemed full of conviction.

However, how could Old Man Togura make such a claim? Could it be that he had been confined until now in an underground secret room of the Rokuten Mountain Stronghold? He shouldn't have had any grounds to comment on recent events that had occurred in town. Yet despite this, he refused to even consider Ushimaru and Haruki's words and kept insisting Chan-fu was still alive—did he have some concrete basis for this assertion? Was it simply due to that stubbornness common in old men—once they fixate on an idea, they absolutely refuse to heed others' words?

Putting that aside, Old Man Togura and the two boys—Haruki and Ushimaru—who had ended up spending the night in the mountain hut of the Land Survey Team at the summit of Mount Yamahime, soon found themselves lying back-to-back to sleep.

Autumn had deepened considerably. The mountain hut was cold at night. In the hut without even blankets, the three sat back-to-back, their eyelids refusing to stay shut. Though the hut contained a prepared hearth and firewood, they couldn't risk lighting it. Burning it would create flames. They needed to avoid smoke too - the helicopter's watchful eye terrified them. These were people who'd rain down machine gun fire without hesitation if anything seemed suspicious.

“It can’t be helped. Let’s just sleep like this. Anyway, night will be over soon.” The cold and hunger were no match for exhaustion. Before long, the three began to doze off, and soon fell fast asleep without realizing how or when. How much time had passed?

The boy Haruki—who had been dreaming strange dreams about the split Golden Medal, the Spanish pirate king, and the hidden great treasure—suddenly jolted awake. Because in his dream he had heard some strange noise. But no—that hadn't been a dream at all. Indeed, that noise was still continuing. A crackling sound, like something popping—the boy Haruki started and sat up, but the moment he did, a tremendous boom shook the night air, and the mountain hut creaked and swayed violently.

“What... What was that…?”

Old Man Togura also sat up abruptly on the bedding at the noise. Even the usually carefree Ushimaru Heitarou opened his eyes, “What’s... what’s that noise...” Rubbing his bleary eyes and contorting his face into a wide yawn—just as he did so, another boom resounded.

“Whoa!” Ushimaru fell over backward. “Old man! It’s coming from Rokuten Mountain’s direction!”

“Alright, let’s go check outside.”

Old Man Togura went out ahead, but as if he had thought of something, “Wait, hold on.”

He grabbed the boy Haruki’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Old man! Wh-what’s wrong?” “Huh… Did you hear that sound?” Old Man Togura’s face was drawn tight like a sharp blade. At that voice, the two boys—Haruki and Ushimaru—also started and strained their ears, but then, from somewhere, came a faint buzzing drone. It was a helicopter. It was gradually approaching from the east. Ushimaru Heitarou’s body shook violently.

“Old man, are they still looking for us?” “Who knows?” It was the moment when Old Man Togura tilted his head.

Once again, with a tremendous boom, the mountain hut shook violently—and then the eastern window flashed brightly.

“Ah! I get it. Something’s happened at the mountain stronghold—that’s why the gang members are escaping by helicopter!”

The crackling sound, like something popping, grew increasingly violent. Boom, boom—the explosion-like sounds continued incessantly, and the eastern window grew increasingly brighter.

Whirr, whirr—the buzzing drone, like that of a spinning bamboo dragonfly, gradually drew closer until it was right above the mountain hut. No sooner had they registered this than— Rat-a-tat-tat! With a fearsome noise, the machine gun roared to life. Machine gun bullets ricocheted off the rocks surrounding the mountain hut like hail. “Look out!” The three instantly threw themselves down onto the floor. “O-old man... Have they found us?” Even the boy Haruki’s voice was trembling now.

However, they didn’t seem entirely certain this was the right spot. After unleashing a barrage of machine gun fire, they calmly soared away westward. "They're terrible bastards," spat Togura, his voice dripping with disgust. "Firing off that machine gun on their way out like some parting gift." "They must’ve had some suspicion about this place," Haruki deduced, wiping sweat from his brow. "Right you are," Togura confirmed in his gruff Kansai dialect. "Thought maybe you brats were holed up here and gave it a try." All three stood drenched in sweat. The delayed realization of how close they'd come to brutal slaughter sent ice water coursing through their veins. Though miraculously unharmed, they knew another minute under that hailstorm of bullets would've meant certain death. The shared thought made them shudder and exchange haunted looks. When the helicopter's roar finally faded westward, they burst from the hut—only to find Rokuten Mountain's eastern skyline devoured by raging flames.

The crackling of trees splitting apart in flames, the ceaseless booms of explosions—each time, a pale flash pierced through fire and smoke, creating a veritable hellscape of screams and agony. Old Man Togura and the two boys—Haruki and Ushimaru—stared at each other in bewilderment. But even so, how had things come to this?

To tell that story, it was necessary to go back a bit in the tale.

The Leader's Legs

As you are all well aware, the traitorous Dr. Tsukue had been caught in Cat Woman’s taut rope and dangled perilously over a cliff edge. Had Senba Kojiro—the man who had gone on an errand to town—discovered this dangling predicament even a moment later, there’s no telling what might have become of the villainous doctor. Perhaps the rope had detached from the pole, sending the doctor plummeting headlong into the valley below where he might have burst open like a pomegranate.

However, thanks to Senba Kojiro’s urgent report, the mountain stronghold was thrown into an uproar. None of them knew Dr. Tsukue had committed such betrayal against the Leader, so they all joined forces and finally hauled him up onto the cliff. Even Dr. Tsukue—usually unflappable—seemed thoroughly shaken this time, looking as wilted as spinach sprinkled with salt, yet he still managed to speak. “Well now, I made it all the way to hell’s doorstep.” “Ha ha ha! What an absurd farce!”

“Doc, th-this is no joke!” “Who on earth did such a thing?”

“It’s Cat Woman.”

“Cat Woman…?” Namitachi Ni let out a shrill cry.

“Well, Cat Woman… She once snatched away half a piece of the Golden Medal right from the Leader’s hands…” “Exactly, that’s her.” “She jumped out from the darkness and subjected me to that ordeal.” “She really does seem to be able to see in the dark.” Even the rough men exchanged uneasy glances. “So, Doctor, are you saying she’s sneaked into this mountain stronghold again?” “Exactly. She can slip into this mountain stronghold from anywhere, like air itself.” “Perhaps she’s still hiding somewhere in this darkness, ready to fire a sudden shot…”

“No way, Doc! That’s creepy.” “No matter how quick she is—she’s no ninjutsu user…” “No—you misunderstand.” “If she can see through darkness like that—she might wield ninjutsu too.” “Think! Remember that night?” “When we thought the power cut out—and her voice came from behind Leader Shima’s chair?” “Those lights were blazing bright until that moment!” “How’d she slip past us? From where? When?” “That proves it—she uses ninjutsu!”

“No way, Doctor—let’s not talk about such strange things.” “Not at all—it’s no strange notion. In any case, if that strange one keeps flitting in and out like this, this Rokuten Mountain Stronghold’s days are numbered.” At Dr. Tsukue’s serious expression as he tilted his head in apparent contemplation, even the hardened men exchanged glances. Had they understood their adversary’s nature—even if it were an ogre or serpent—they wouldn’t have been ones to cower in fear. But faced with only a voice from the darkness—no form or shape discernible—they couldn’t help growing uneasy.

The thought that she might be lurking somewhere in that darkness, her eyes glowing like a cat’s, sent a chill through them as if cold water had been poured down their collars.

Though he spoke bravely, even Dr. Tsukue—having endured such a life-dangling ordeal—lay utterly spent that day, resting in his room. Now, that evening... While conversing with Senba and Namitachi Ni’s group, a man called Kido came rushing out in haste. “Hey! What’s with all the dawdling?” “The Leader’s been waiting impatiently.” “Get moving and bring Dr. Tsukue here now!”

Kido reprimanded the group and then approached Dr. Tsukue. “Doctor, what did you do to the Leader?” “The Leader’s furious, I tell you!” When he heard “Leader—”, Dr. Tsukue’s face turned leaden in an instant. “W-well… It’s nothing… J-just a little prank, that’s all.” “I don’t know what you did, but you should be well aware of what it means to anger the Leader.” “This won’t end without consequences!” “Come along now.” “Hey, all of you! Don’t let Dr. Tsukue escape!” At Kido’s words, the group haphazardly surrounded Dr. Tsukue. In this situation, as helpless as a rat in a sack, Dr. Tsukue suddenly began trembling violently. Dr. Tsukue knew all too well the terror of the Leader.

“Now then, Doctor, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us.”

A sheep being led to slaughter—that must have been what they meant by Dr. Tsukue in that moment. Staggering and unsteady on his feet, Dr. Tsukue was hauled from both sides by rough men as they arrived at the special room where the Leader waited. Leader Shima Kenshaku sat in his large chair with dragon carvings as always. His nearly six-foot frame bulged like a beer barrel—a physique so formidable it might make even a sumo grand champion flee barefoot. Though his face remained concealed behind the usual triple-layered veil, the quivering fabric made clear how enraged the Leader was.

Dr. Tsukue, his face ashen and trembling like konjac jelly, was forced into the chair before the Leader.

“Dr. Tsukue.” Leader Shima Kenshaku’s voice was cold and composed. This was proof of how immense the Leader’s wrath truly was. Shima Kenshaku became colder and more composed in direct proportion to the magnitude of his wrath.

“You’d do well to remember exactly what disrespect you showed me last night.” “Leader, please forgive…” “Silence!”

The Leader roared. His body trembled with anger. “Dr. Tsukue, you are the worm within the lion’s body—you sneaked into my room like a thief.” “However, I will let that pass.” “No matter how sneakily you rummage through desks and cabinets, I am not one whose secrets can be stolen.” “But…” And the Leader ground his teeth gratingly, “What is absolutely unforgivable... are your subsequent deeds.” “You tried to use X-rays to uncover my true identity.” “This sacred identity of mine!”

The Leader raised his metallic voice and both hands, trembling his fists within his long sleeves. Dr. Tsukue’s ashen face was drenched in sweat. “No—what did you see? Using X-rays to see through—what in the world did you witness?” “Leader, please forgive me… but not that one thing.” “No! Absolutely not! Say it in front of everyone! Tell them what my true identity really is!”

The Leader’s voice thundered through the vast room, echoing like a mountain spirit’s reply. “Leader… Then… May I say it… before everyone…” A vulpine sneer flickered through Dr. Tsukue’s eyes. “I care not. If you mean to speak, speak swiftly!”

“Very well then,” “Leader, you are a small man.” “Your oversized Chinese robe is a smokescreen to hide that small frame.” “You’ve attached meter-long rods to your legs to pose as a giant, but in truth—you’re just a puny little man!”

The room fell deathly silent in an instant. At Dr. Tsukue’s utterly unexpected words, Kido, Namitachi Ni, and Senba no Kojiro stood dumbfounded, their mouths agape. (This leader—a sumo grand champion-like giant being a small man…?) Had Dr. Tsukue gone mad? Explosive laughter suddenly erupted. It came from Leader Shima Kenshaku. The Leader shook with laughter, his belly quivering. He laughed and laughed, rolling about in mirth.

“Dr. Tsukue—is this what you saw?” “Me—a small man…?” “Hey, Dr. Tsukue—are your eyes working right? Or has your X-ray machine gone haywire?” “I saw it with certainty!” “My X-rays don’t lie!” “You… extended them with rods…” The moment he did so, Shima Kenshaku swung up his leg and mercilessly kicked the Doctor’s shin. Dr. Tsukue yelped in pain and leapt up, only to be instantly restrained by Kido and Namitachi Ni.

“Dr. Tsukue, are you saying this leg is a rod? Are you saying my legs are rods?! Touch them. I’ll permit it just this once. Touch them!” Dr. Tsukue knelt before the Leader and timidly touched both of his legs. At that moment, a cold sweat slid smoothly down the doctor’s forehead. Ah, what in the world was this? The Leader’s legs were undoubtedly human legs with warm blood flowing through them.

Human Vault Dr. Tsukue sat in the chair with a gaunt and haggard face. He looked as if he had aged ten or twenty years at once.

Ah, I don't understand. Through last night's X-ray, the Leader had clearly appeared as a small man with long prosthetic legs. Yet now, the legs I felt beneath his Chinese robe were unmistakably sturdy human legs of flesh and blood. What could this mean? Had I lost my mind? "That's right—you've gone mad." As if reading Dr. Tsukue's thoughts, the Leader stated point-blank.

“The very fact you’d consider betraying me—betraying this Shima Kenshaku—proves you’ve gone mad.” “But fine.” “With this, your foolish doubts should be cleared.” “Now then, it’s time for my business.” “Hey Dr. Tsukue—hand it over!”

The Leader’s voice thundered like a storm. Dr. Tsukue, who had been sitting dejectedly in a daze, shuddered violently at the sound. “Wh-wh-what... What do you mean?” “What do you want me to hand over?” “Don’t play dumb with me!” “You said that at Chan-fu’s shop, you picked up and examined half of the Golden Medal.” “Do you think a cunning man like you would simply return empty-handed just because there was no money?” “You must have definitely used a small camera to photograph both sides of the medal.” “Hand over that film!”

A shadow of a cunning sneer flickered across Dr. Tsukue’s face once more at that moment.

“I see. Truly worthy of being our Leader,” Dr. Tsukue sneered. “You’ve got sharp eyes. I’m impressed. Yes, I photographed both sides of the Golden Medal.” “Good,” the Leader rumbled. “Hand it over.” “Gone—stolen.” “Stolen? By whom?” “By Cat Woman… Clever Leader.” Dr. Tsukue’s lips twisted into a grin. “Sharp as ever. But she’s sharper still. Just now, in the escape tunnel—she swindled me clean. Ah! She swiped half the medal from you once before, didn’t she? Now she’s got the film of the other half too. The grand treasure’s hers now—ah ha ha!”

The Leader gritted his teeth. His shoulders trembled violently with rage.

“Kido! Namitachi Ni! Inspect him!” Immediately, Kido and Namitachi Ni conducted a body check on Dr. Tsukue, but of course, the film did not surface. “Leader, we found nothing.” “That’s insufficient.” The Leader stamped his feet and roared in a thunderous voice. “Your inspection methods are inadequate—strip him naked and search thoroughly!” “Naked…?” For some reason, when ordered to strip completely bare, Dr. Tsukue’s complexion abruptly changed.

“Th-th-that’s a joke, right? Leader! Even if they pat down my clothes—anyone could tell whether I’ve got the film or not! There’s no need to strip me bare…”

Shima Kenshaku coldly observed the flustered, incoherent Dr. Tsukue from behind his triple veil—then finally spoke with a sneer. “Dr. Tsukue, shall I tell you an interesting story?” “An interesting story…?”

“That’s right.” “A most intriguing tale.” “I believe you’ll find it quite delightful.” “Recall the day antique dealer Chan-fu was murdered.” “This occurred after you’d discovered half of the Golden Medal, successfully photographed both sides, and made your retreat.” “Presently arrived at the shop a sailor-clad man bearing a dreadful sword scar—one could scarcely tell if he were Spanish or Japanese.” “Though I know not the price paid, he purchased half the Golden Medal and departed.” “Yet immediately thereafter came another seeking that very medal.” “Let us provisionally name this individual X.” “When X learned from Chan-fu that a sailor-like man had bought the medal mere moments prior, he hastily gave chase.” “What say you, Dr. Tsukue—is this not a fascinating account?”

Dr. Tsukue opened his eyes wide in fright, staring fixedly at the Leader’s triple-layered veil. His forehead was drenched with sweat. “However, the man with a large scar on his face—who looked like he could be either Spanish or Japanese—soon entered a hotel along the coastal avenue.” X also slipped in right behind him. The sailor-like man entered a certain room in the corner of the second floor. X was keeping watch on the room from the corner of the hallway when, within no more than fifteen minutes, a man emerged from that room. “Hey, Dr. Tsukue—do you know who that was?”

Dr. Tsukue gripped the arms of the chair so tightly they might break. His body trembled violently, his eyes bulging as if about to pop out. The Leader sneered from behind his veil, “Ah ha ha! That look on your face tells me you already know. That’s right—that man was none other than you, Dr. Tsukue! Moreover, after you left, when X peered into the room, there was no one there. In other words—the man with the large sword scar on his face was you, Dr. Tsukue! You were him all along! You found half of the Golden Medal. However, if you had bought it in your own form, Chan-fu would surely have revealed it eventually. Having thought that, you disguised yourself as a foreign sailor and bought the Golden Medal. The large sword scar on your face was a fake drawn with paint to change your appearance as much as possible. Well then, Dr. Tsukue—isn’t this an interesting story?”

Leader Shima Kenshaku shook his large belly and laughed. Dr. Tsukue wore the face of a cornered beast as he stared at the triple veil, but soon mustered a screeching voice and shouted.

“I get it, I get it, I get it now!” Thrusting a slender finger at the Leader’s nose, “You didn’t slip under questioning, but you’ve let it slip in your telling—this is exactly that!” “X killed Chan-fu.” “And X—the Leader—is you!” The Leader, however, sneered and “Don’t talk nonsense. “If someone like me with this hulking frame were to walk through town, how many eyes do you think would be drawn to me? Just ask around—Chan-fu’s shop isn’t some lone house in the wilderness. There are neighbors and watchful eyes all around.” “Go ask anyone whether a sumo grand champion-sized man was walking near Chan-fu’s shop that day!”

At the Leader’s confident words, Dr. Tsukue deflated completely. “Hey, Kido, Namitachi Ni! What are you dawdling for?” “Hurry up and strip him naked!”

Immediately, Kido and Namitachi Ni seized Dr. Tsukue. And with his body as thin as a waterfowl’s, Dr. Tsukue raised a screeching voice in resistance, but in the blink of an eye, they stripped him completely naked. Dr. Tsukue was left wearing nothing but a loincloth, trembling like wobbling konjac jelly. Shima Kenshaku, who had been intently staring at his body from behind the triple-layered veil, suddenly laughed and struck the arm of the chair.

“Ah ha ha! As expected of Dr. Tsukue.” “A human vault—what an idea!” “Hey—what’s this wound on your left shoulder?”

Dr. Tsukue cried out and clutched his left shoulder. But it was too late. On his left shoulder, the slightly raised wound remained fresh and raw. Shima Kenshaku glared and drew his blue dragon sword, “Dr. Tsukue—you deliberately carved that wound in your left shoulder, stuffed half of the Golden Medal inside it, then stitched it up.” “Now I’ll pry open that vault of yours.” Shima Kenshaku hefted the blue dragon sword as he swayed up from his chair—but at that very moment, no sooner had frantic footsteps drawn near than—

“Leader, it’s terrible!” “It’s terrible!” “A horde of police officers has swarmed in!” “There’s a traitor among us!” “Every last escape route—every single one—has been surrounded, I tell you!”

The voice was anguished. When the Leader heard this, he involuntarily let the blue dragon sword slip from his grasp.

Chan-fu's Twin

The large police raid on Rokuten Mountain Stronghold immediately became the talk of the port town.

After all, from Rokuten Mountain to Kannuki Mountain, it had burned for three days and three nights, so the commotion in the surrounding area was tremendous.

“What was that? That tremendous noise the other night…?” “Oh, that? Well... Apparently there were bandits living in Rokuten Mountain. They say when the police surrounded them, they set off bombs they’d planted in their mountain stronghold.” “Heh. Bandits, huh. And did they catch ’em?” “But it was all sound and fury signifying nothing—just one measly mouse in the end. Only small fry got caught. All the big shots apparently got away.”

“What a shame that turned out to be.” “But how could the police have made such a blunder despite all that commotion they caused?” “Well, there’s nothing to be done about it. They’ve got helicopters and whatnot—flying machines like oversized bamboo dragonflies. You can’t compete with that.” “Ah, so that’s why they took a *high jump*!” “Oh, you shouldn’t go making puns now!” Such were the wild rumors swirling through town, and indeed, just as these rumors suggested, Shima Kenshaku’s gang had managed to escape almost entirely intact, with nearly all their key members slipping away.

Kido, Namitachi Ni, and Senba Kojiro—the three of them—under their leader’s orders, bound Dr. Tsukue up, loaded him into the helicopter, and fled. Afterward, Leader Shima Kenshaku set off the bombs he had rigged beforehand and vanished without a trace. Thus, despite their grand uproar, the police only captured Kodake-san and a handful of underlings.

Still, where had Shima Kenshaku escaped to? Had they burned down their stronghold at Rokuten Mountain and disbanded? No, no—that couldn’t be the case. This was Shima Kenshaku we’re talking about—a man of relentless tenacity.

Someday, without fail, he would surely emerge with that grand physique of his and stir up fresh turmoil, but for now we shall set that matter aside and advance our story through the two boys—Haruki and Ushimaru.

Having narrowly escaped Shima Kenshaku’s demonic grasp, Haruki and Ushimaru—the two boys—descended the mountain the next day and there parted ways with old man Togura after promising to meet again. They safely returned to their homes, but how Ushimaru Heitarou’s father and mother rejoiced at that time or how they expressed their gratitude to Haruki—these matters would grow too tedious in the telling, so they shall be omitted here.

Now, for some time after that, no particular changes occurred in the boys’ circumstances, and they went to school happily every day. At school, the two boys were hailed as heroes and persistently asked by everyone to recount their story. Particularly, boys like Kotama-kun, Yokomitsu-kun, and Tabata-kun—who had been trying to form a Boy Detectives Club—resented having been outdone by Haruki alone and pleaded that if anything happened next time, they too should definitely be allowed to join the group. The two boys, Haruki and Ushimaru, of course agreed to it.

Thus several days passed. Around Haruki and Ushimaru, peaceful days still continued. No word had come from old man Togura either, who had said he would send news once things settled down.

One day，when Haruki went to school，Ushimaru Heitarou approached him with an overly serious face.

“Haruki-kun, just a moment…” “Ushimaru-kun, what is it?” “There’s something strange going on. “Look, that international antique dealer—” “Yeah, yeah—Chan-fu’s shop, huh?” “That’s right! That shop’s opened again just recently, I tell ya. “When I went to Coast Road on an errand yesterday, I peeked into that shop—the front was open, and there was Chan-fu sitting right there! “I was so shocked my guts flipped right over!”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Chan-fu was shot dead with a pistol—he should be dead.” “Exactly! But there he was, right there in the shop, I tell ya! No matter how ya look at it, it’s gotta be Chan-fu! I thought for sure it was his ghost and asked around the neighborhood all nervous-like—turns out it ain’t Chan-fu at all, but his twin brother Chan-wu, they say!”

“Huh, so Chan-fu had a twin brother.” Haruki Kiyoshi widened his eyes in surprise. “That’s right! They say he’d been in Yokohama all this time. But since his brother Chan-fu got killed and there was no one to take over, he came all the way from Yokohama just to inherit the shop, I tell ya.” “Even though they’re twins, they look exactly alike!” “Around the neighborhood too, they’re saying it’s like Mr. Chan-fu came back to life!” Haruki Kiyoshi fell silent for a while, deep in thought, then finally spoke in a contemplative tone,

“Hey，Ushimaru-kun，” he called out. “What’s up，Haruki-kun?” “Old man Togura said something strange once，you know．Chan-fu dying… he said such a thing was impossible…” “That’s right—he did say that，I tell ya！Well ain't sure what caused it．” “Well，I'm not entirely sure about that part myself，but perhaps there's some connection between those words and Chan-fu's twin，Chan-wu．”

“Yeah, yeah, that makes sense, I tell ya.” Ushimaru Heitarou nodded with a stolid, ox-like expression. “So, what do you think? What if we investigate this Chan-wu ourselves... Old man Togura said he’d contact us if anything unusual happened, but he still hasn’t said anything. That’s why I’ve been itching for action ever since. Because if things stay like this, it’s like keeping a snake half-alive—I just can’t settle down!”

“Well, I feel the same way, I tell ya!” “I thought so. So, this time I think we should take the initiative and make a move ourselves. That said, for now, since I don’t know where to start, I think we should begin by investigating Chan-wu’s shop first—what do you think?” “Yeah, that sounds interesting, I tell ya! Then it’s decided!” Ushimaru Heitarou was spotted jumping up with joy, and the three members of the Boy Detectives Club—Kodama, Yokomitsu, and Tabata—came rushing over, wondering what was happening. Thereupon, when the two boys, Haruki and Ushimaru, told them the story they had just discussed, all three of them became ecstatic with joy.

“Alright then! After school today, why don’t we all head over to Coast Road?”

With their plan decided, what in the world would these boys discover when they scouted out Chan-wu’s shop?

Large Vase

Now, here was the International Antique Shop on Coast Road that had come up in the boys' conversation.

Today as usual, Chan-wu sat at the shopfront puffing on his water pipe. Indeed, with his Confucius-style long beard and tomato-red complexion, Chan-wu looked exactly like the murdered Chan-fu. The only difference was that while Chan-fu hadn't worn glasses, his twin brother Chan-wu sported large black frames. Perhaps because people said they looked too alike, he might have deliberately worn those glasses to distinguish himself.

Chan-wu had been sitting vacantly in the shop with sleepy eyes for some time now, but perhaps having concluded there were no customers after all, he slowly stood up and retreated into a back room. Then, after firmly locking the door from the inside—what in the world was this?—the previously sleepy-eyed Chan-wu’s complexion suddenly became vibrant. Behind the glasses, the two pupils suddenly sparkled brilliantly.

Chan-wu carefully scanned his surroundings, then removed the framed oil painting of a Spanish sailing ship hanging on the wall. Then, when he pressed a certain spot on the wall, a small hole snapped open there. It was a safe. It was a hidden safe.

Chan-wu once again looked around sharply with keen eyes, then searched through the safe and took out a small velvet-covered box. Then, after closing the safe and rehanging the painting in its original place, he carefully carried the velvet-covered box to the desk and sat down.

Then, after readjusting his glasses and pressing the spring on the velvet-lined small box, the lid snapped open to reveal—oh! What could it be but a half-fragment of the Golden Medal? Chan-wu cast another swift glance around his surroundings, drew a deep guttural breath, then stared fixedly at the half-fragment. That was indeed the crescent-shaped portion of the Golden Medal left behind by the pirate Delma.

But what in the world was this about? That crescent-shaped half-fragment had passed from Old Man Togura into Haruki Kiyoshi’s hands, was later dug up by the bearded man Anegawa Goro and sold to antique dealer Chan-fu, then purchased by Dr.Tsukue—who should have hidden it within the flesh of his own shoulder. Then did that mean there were two Golden Medals?

Putting that aside, Chan-wu began translating the Spanish text inscribed on the back of the Golden Medal, pencil in one hand and dictionary at the ready. It seemed he had been working on it for quite some time, as the beginning part flowed smoothly. That was roughly as follows.

My secret Let those who would claim it rise! People acting in harmony Shall guard the sacred bones Appear after... Golden Medal Right Fragment But with only half the medal available, even this much translation made no sense. This only confirmed how desperately they needed the other half—the fan-shaped fragment. Chan-wu stared regretfully at the Golden Medal's half-fragment before seemingly reconsidering, picking up his pencil to resume translating—when footsteps echoed from the shopfront.

Upon hearing this, Chan-wu hurriedly placed the medal into the velvet-covered box, stored it in the hidden wall safe, crumpled the half-translated paper into a ball, then put on an innocent face and headed out to the shop. The customer who had come to the shop was Ms.Tachibana Katsumi. When Ms.Tachibana Katsumi saw Chan-wu’s face, she widened her eyes in surprise but immediately composed herself and smiled sweetly, “Oh! You gave me such a fright! You look so much like the late Mr.Chan-fu that I thought you were a ghost.” “That’s right—you and Mr.Chan-fu are twins, I hear.”

“Yes, Chan-fu and I are twin brothers. Do you know Chan-fu?” “Yes, I’ve visited this shop before... What a terrible thing that happened to Mr. Chan-fu.” “Yes... My poor brother. I want to find the culprit somehow.” “It will surely come to light before long.” “They won’t just leave it be either.” “Since we’ve had the chance to meet through this connection, I’ll let you know if anything comes to mind.”

“Thanks.” “By the way, do you require anything today?” “No, actually I didn’t come to make a purchase.” “Rather, there’s something I’d like you to buy from this shop…” “Hmm, very well.” “Depending on the item and price, I’ll consider acquiring it.” “In that case, wait a moment…” Ms. Tachibana Katsumi briefly exited the shop but was soon seen returning accompanied by two men carrying an enormous vase measuring approximately four feet in height and eighteen inches in diameter.

When the men set down the large vase in a suitable spot in the shop and left, Ms. Tachibana Katsumi turned back toward Chan-wu, “What I would like you to buy is this.” “This vase was bought by my father in Beijing during his travels to your country. For me, it’s something hard to part with, but since I suddenly find myself in need of money…” Ms. Tachibana Katsumi blushed in apparent embarrassment and fidgeted.

“I see, this is an impressive vase. Depending on the price, I may purchase it.” Chan-wu stroked and rubbed the vase’s surface when he suddenly peered inside, his face twisting oddly as he furrowed his brows.

“Oh, this vase—the inside is stuffed.”

“That’s how it is.” “It’s been like that since my father bought it.” “So my father used to laughingly call this vase ‘the Unopenable Vase.’” “But… there must have been some reason for stuffing the vase.” It was no wonder Chan-wu found it strange. The vase was filled with cement up to its neck and made a hard clacking sound when tapped. Chan-wu thought for a moment,

“Well, this is a rare vase.” “However, when dealing with vases of this size, rather than decorating them with flowers, the vase itself becomes the decorative piece.” “So, what price are you seeking?” “Oh! Does that mean you’ll purchase it then?” “Actually...”

When Ms. Tachibana stated the price, Chan-wu laughed and,

"That's expensive. A vase with its interior stuffed like this is practically a defective item, so unless it's around half that price..." "Oh! Half is too harsh. Please put in a bit more effort," she said. Though they haggled for some time—exactly how much they settled on remained unclear—when observing Ms. Tachibana's expression as she left the antique shop shortly afterward, a genuinely pleased smile had surfaced.

Chan-wu watched her retreating figure, then tilted his head in puzzlement and spent some time stroking and rubbing the splendid large vase before eventually closing the front door and withdrawing to a back room.

The sun had already set.

Mysterious Figure Appears

Next to Chan-wu’s shop stood a four-story building where the first floor served as a Trade Promotion Exhibition Hall, while the floors above were rental offices. However, conveniently enough, on that third floor was the office of one of the Boy Detectives Club members—Kodama-kun’s father.

The five members of the Boy Detectives Club, when school let out, headed to the coastal street and passed in front of Chan-wu’s shop with an air of innocence,

“Wait, this place is right next to my father’s office!” When Kodama-kun whispered this, they decided to ask his father to let them borrow a corner of that office for a while. There, the five boys went up to the reception room of Kodama Shokai Company on the third floor—and even more conveniently—this reception room was situated on the side of Chan-wu’s shop; peering out the window revealed the international antique dealer right below their eyes.

“Ah, this is perfect! “Kodama-kun, please do your best to ask your father to lend us this room for a while.” “Sure thing! “My father’s a very understanding person—he’ll definitely agree.”

Eventually, the man named Mr. Kodama who came out to the reception room was a gentleman who seemed thoroughly understanding. When Mr. Kodama heard the story from his son, young Kodama, he initially widened his eyes in surprise, but as the group took turns earnestly pleading, "I see. So you plan to monitor Chan-wu’s shop to track down the Rokuten Mountain Stronghold bandits who previously kidnapped Ushimaru-kun, is that right?"

“That’s correct.” “That’s correct.” “We want to cooperate with the police and capture those bandits as soon as possible.”

When Haruki Kiyoshi earnestly made his request, Mr. Kodama smiled warmly, “Good, good. Well, boys these days must all possess at least that much courage.” “Certainly, I’ll grant your request.” “However, there is a condition.” With that, Mr. Kodama presented the following conditions.

“First and foremost, you must fully understand that you are still children and never approach danger. Second, if you discover anything unusual, immediately report it to the police and do not intervene yourselves. Thirdly, you must all return home together by 9 PM.” “We understand. Mr. Kodama. We will never do anything that causes you worry, Mr. Kodama.”

When Haruki Kiyoshi declared on behalf of everyone, Mr. Kodama smiled warmly,

“Good, good.” “Well then, you’ll be starting surveillance tonight, but you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” “In that case, I’ll treat you all to dinner as a pre-celebration!”

With that, the kind Mr. Kodama led the five boys to a nearby Chinese restaurant and treated them to dinner. “Well then, I’ll pray for your success. However, I must stress this—you mustn’t forget that you’re still children.”

Having received encouragement and warnings from Mr. Kodama, the five boys parted ways in front of the Chinese restaurant and were returning along the already darkened road toward the building when, at that moment, a woman came rushing out from inside the international antique dealer’s shop. “Ah! Isn’t that Ms. Tachibana?” When young Haruki was the first to notice Ms. Tachibana’s figure and alerted the others,

“Right, right! It’s Ms. Tachibana! What business would she have coming to a place like this, huh?”

Ushimaru Heitarou also wore a puzzled expression. The three boys—Kodama, Yokomitsu, and Tahata—exchanged startled glances. Fortunately, Ms. Tachibana appeared not to notice and vanished into the twilight shadows with masculine strides, her shoes clacking briskly against the pavement.

“There’s definitely something strange about this,” Haruki Kiyoshi muttered thoughtfully as he walked. “I’ve thought there was something off about Ms. Tachibana for a while now.” “Strange? In what way?” Kodama-kun asked in return. “Because on the day Chan-fu was killed, Ms. Tachibana passed by Bankokudo and peered into the display window—the same window that had half of the Golden Medal fragment on display at the time. And then the next day, when Mr. Kanaya mentioned that incident, they say Ms. Tachibana made a very unpleasant face.”

“Yeah, now that you mention it, Ms. Tachibana often takes days off from school.” “And where she goes—there’s talk she sometimes disappears from the dormitory.” Tahata-kun said. “Alright then, starting tomorrow, let’s split up and have someone keep watch on Ms. Tachibana, shall we?” “Surveillance is something even children can handle.” It was Yokomitsu-kun’s words.

“Yeah, that works.” “Anyway, when tomorrow comes, we’ll decide who’ll take charge of watching Ms. Tachibana.” Thus, once again with a new detective strategy established, the group returned satisfied to the third-floor reception room. Looking out the window, they saw a faint dim light seeping from Chan-wu’s shop.

“Ah, look there! Chan-wu’s shop has a skylight. If you peek from there, you’ll definitely see the shop’s interior clearly.”

“Yeah, yeah.” “I think I’ll try climbing down onto that roof.” Haruki Kiyoshi restrained Ushimaru Heitarou as he eagerly leaned out of the window, “No—wait a moment.” “Let’s wait a little longer until it gets darker around here.”

After waiting about an hour，the surroundings had grown completely dark. From Chan-wu’s shop skylight，a faint light still seeped through. “Haruki-kun，it’s about time now，isn’t it?” Ushimaru Heitarou’s arm had been tingling for some time now.

“Right. It’s about time now,” Haruki said. “Now then—as for who will go on the scouting mission—to ensure fairness, let’s decide by drawing lots. Since going alone is too daunting, why don’t we go in pairs instead?” As a result of drawing the five paper lots that Haruki had prepared, Ushimaru and Haruki were chosen to go. The other boys were disappointed, but they were consoled by the thought that there might still be roles for them later, and so it was finally decided that Haruki and Ushimaru would go on the scouting mission.

Conveniently, this building’s side was equipped with an emergency ladder in case of fires or other emergencies. The emergency ladder ran right alongside Chan-wu’s shop, the distance between them no more than three feet. Haruki and Ushimaru, the two boys, exited through the window to avoid being seen, moved along the underside of the eaves, and transferred to the emergency ladder. It was quite a risky endeavor, but for the nimble two boys, it wasn’t such a difficult task.

When they descended the emergency ladder to the first floor, Chan-wu’s shop roof lay directly below them. The two boys leapt onto the roof with monkey-like agility. Though steeply sloped, reaching the skylight posed little challenge for their nimble frames. The skylight contained thick wire-meshed glass. This daytime feature brightened displays to accentuate their appeal. Crawling to peer through the skylight revealed dim lighting illuminating a cramped array of curios—grotesque Buddhist statues, peculiar giant clocks, antiquated armor—all jostling for space. There in one corner sat that same massive vase Ms. Tachibana had delivered earlier.

The two boys, Haruki and Ushimaru, were holding their breath as they peered into this eerie and eccentric shop when suddenly Haruki forcefully gripped Ushimaru's arm. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

“Shh! Quiet!” “Look at that large vase.”

At Haruki Kiyoshi's whisper—so hushed it seemed smothered—Ushimaru Heitarou casually turned his gaze toward the vase, but the moment he did, a bone-chilling terror coursed down his spine.

Ah, look! The cement packed into the large vase was pushed aside from within, leaving a hollow space from which a single arm smoothly extended. “Ah!” Ushimaru Heitarou nearly cried out but hurriedly clamped a hand over his mouth.

There was someone inside the large vase. And that guy was now trying to emerge from inside the vase.

The two boys' chests pounded wildly. Sweat poured profusely from their foreheads. The two were so absorbed that they clung to the skylight frame, their eyes wide as saucers as they peered into Chan-wu’s shop.

From inside the large vase, another arm came out. The two arms gripped the edge of the vase and fumbled clumsily for a while, but then—ah, what in the world!—they nimbly climbed up to the vase's rim like an acrobat! That was an extraordinarily strange little man. The little man was clad head to toe in a tight black suit that resembled a stuffed animal. And he had pulled a triangular pointed hood—attached to his clothing—snugly over his head and wore a large mask over his face. Thus, his face was completely hidden, but the eeriness of it was such that neither brush nor words could capture it.

The little man remained crouched on the edge of the vase like a monkey, surveying his surroundings for a moment before leaping down onto the floor without a sound. From atop the skylight, the two boys—Haruki and Ushimaru—stared breathlessly at this scene, their hands slick with sweat.

Strange Man and Cat Woman

Ah, the strange man—the man like a monkey— Once, Dr. Tsukue had X-rayed Shima Kenshaku, the leader of the Rokuten Mountain Stronghold, revealing him to be a small man with long bamboo stilts attached to his legs. However, when Dr. Tsukue later touched the leader’s legs, they proved not to be bamboo stilts but unmistakably human limbs. Dr. Tsukue had been astonished by these two contradictory discoveries, yet the one who had infiltrated Chan-wu’s shop tonight was unmistakably that same small man. If Dr. Tsukue’s X-ray had not been mistaken after all—did this mean Shima Kenshaku’s true identity was indeed that stilt-legged figure? Yet how then could one explain the human legs Dr. Tsukue had felt with his own hands?

Putting that aside, the small man who had stepped down onto the floor remained motionless for a while, gauging his surroundings, but eventually crawled over near the wall and pulled from his pocket a stick roughly thirty centimeters long. It resembled exactly the baton wielded by an orchestra conductor.

Well, well—what could he be planning to do with that thing? Unaware that Haruki and Ushimaru were watching with bated breath from the roof above, the small man twisted and manipulated the rod—then, in moments, it extended to a length of about three meters. Got it, got it—that rod was a magic one that could extend and retract at will. Even so, as they watched wondering what he would use such a rod for, the small man attached a hook-like object to its tip.

Well, well—what a strange thing to do! As the two continued clinging desperately to the skylight to watch, the small man used that hooked rod to snag and switch off the main switch located high above. The instant every last light in the house went out, the surroundings plunged into pitch darkness. Haruki and Ushimaru, the two boys, involuntarily exchanged glances. Then, at that moment, from within the darkness came the sound of footsteps rushing through the shop—followed immediately by the clank of a lock being opened. Eventually, the door opened slightly, and someone sneaked into the shop, but since the door closed immediately afterward, their figure wasn’t clearly seen.

“A man opened the door and must’ve called someone in.”

“That’s right. The man had been hiding inside the large vase until now to let his accomplice sneak in. Still, what kind of guy could’ve sneaked in?” As the two were exchanging such whispers, down below, Chan-wu—perhaps having somehow sensed something suspicious—emerged from the back door holding a flashlight in one hand.

“Is someone there?” A pistol thundered, and the flashlight in Chan-wu’s hand shattered into fragments. “W-w-who’s there?!” “The Cat Woman.” “W-w-what… Cat Woman—” In the darkness, Chan-wu’s voice gasped loudly. “Yes indeed—a Cat Woman who sees perfectly in the dark.” “Running away’s useless.” “I came for a little chat, so stay put.” “Fool!” “What are you doing?!”

Once again came the blam of a pistol. Along with a brief scream, something fell to the floor with a heavy thud. "Heh heh heh. Didn't I warn you?" "I told you—I'm the Cat Woman who sees in the dark, right?" "Even if you tried to pull a pistol from your pocket, I'd spot it clear as day." Haruki and Ushimaru exchanged startled glances atop the skylight. Could this Cat Woman truly possess night vision?

“Well now you see I wasn’t lying, hmm? If you understand, stay put.” “I’ll wait—hurry and bandage that right hand.” “Look at all that blood pouring out.” “Ah—finally managed the bandage.” “Then we’ll move to the inner room.” “Can’t have our little chat here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” “It’s about the Golden Medal.” “The Golden Medal? “Wh-what are you talking about? What’s this Golden Medal?” “Heh heh heh. “Playing dumb won’t work.” “As I’ve said many times, I’m the Cat Woman who can see even in the dark.” “I know exactly what face you’re making right now.” “Now, listen carefully.” “Your twin Chan-fu once bought half a piece of the Golden Medal from a man named Anegawa Goro.” “And then, not long after that, he sold a half-piece of the Golden Medal to a man with a large scar on his face who looked Spanish—but that medal was a counterfeit.” “Therefore, the real Golden Medal must still be here in this shop.” “Bring that out here.”

“But wait—wasn’t what Chan-fu bought a counterfeit?” “Shut up!” The Cat Woman said sharply, “I’ve conducted a thorough investigation.” “I’ve even tracked down a man named Anegawa Goro and found out exactly where he obtained the Golden Medal.” “That was indeed not a counterfeit.” “Chan-fu hid the real one somewhere and put the counterfeit in the display window.” “Well, we can’t talk here.” “Let’s go to the inner room and settle this properly.”

For a while, the voices of Chan-wu and the Cat Woman arguing back and forth continued, but eventually, coerced by the Cat Woman’s pistol, Chan-wu entered a small inner room. As the Cat Woman followed him inside, the door slammed shut with a bang. The voices vanished completely, leaving Chan-wu’s shop enveloped in darkness and silence reminiscent of a graveyard.

Haruki and Ushimaru, the two boys, exchanged wide-eyed glances. “Haruki-kun, that Cat Woman is one formidable person.” The boy Haruki did not answer and remained lost in thought for a while, then finally said in a low voice, “Hey, Ushimaru-kun—about that Cat Woman’s voice just now—didn’t you think it sounded familiar?” “Huh? Well, I didn’t notice. Whose voice did it sound like?” “No—if you didn’t notice it, then it must be my mistake.” “But Ushimaru-kun—I wonder what happened to that small man from earlier.”

“Well.” “Maybe that guy went into the inner room too?”

As the two were whispering such things, a pained groan leaked from the inner room. It was Chan-wu's voice. Moreover, it was an agonized groan like none other… Haruki and Ushimaru, the two boys, exchanged startled glances. “Haruki-kun, this is bad! Don’t you think Chan-wu is being tortured?” “That’s right, that’s right, Ushimaru-kun. Let’s go back to the previous room.”

“What’s going back to that room gonna do?”

“We’ll call the police and have the officers come. You were told by Kodama-kun’s father earlier, weren’t you? That we mustn’t forget we’re children. That’s why we’ll call the police and have them catch Cat Woman and the small man.” The two quietly slid down from Chan-wu’s shop roof and scrambled up the building’s emergency ladder like startled hares.

Sky-Soaring Demons

When Haruki, Ushimaru-kun, and the Boy Detectives Club made the call, it was fortunately Inspector Akiyoshi who happened to be present at the police station.

You must still remember Inspector Akiyoshi. As the inspector in charge of the Chan-fu case—which had shown no progress and appeared headed for a dead end—had been growing increasingly frustrated, he practically leapt for joy upon receiving the call from the Boy Detectives Club.

“Alright, we’ll head there right away. By the way—how many of you are there?”

“Yes, the Boy Detectives Club has five members.” “Alright then, split up and keep watch around Bankokudo.” “But let me repeat—don’t meddle in anything unnecessary.” “You wait until we arrive!” “Understood.” “Please come as quickly as possible.”

After hanging up the phone, the boy Haruki had been conveying the inspector’s words to the group when—struck by some realization—he suddenly paled.

“What’s wrong, Haruki-kun? Did something happen?” Yokomitsu-kun asked curiously, but the boy Haruki restrained himself. “Ushimaru-kun, that... that sound...?”

“What’s that sound…?” Ushimaru Heitarou also stiffened in surprise and listened intently alongside Haruki-kun but suddenly began trembling violently. Ah, they could hear it—they could hear it: a buzzing sound like that of a spinning bamboo-copter. It was indeed the roar of a helicopter. Moreover, it was gradually approaching closer. “Tabata-kun, kindly turn off the lights.” When Tabata-kun turned off the lights, the reception room was plunged into darkness.

“Haruki-kun, what’s wrong? What’s that noise?” In the darkness, Kodama-kun asked anxiously. “It’s a helicopter. You see—the one that abducted Ushimaru-kun before…” “Ah! The one that leader of Rokuten Mountain Fortress supposedly has…?” The boys exchanged startled glances in the darkness. “Still—where could they be heading at this hour?”

asked Tabata-kun.

“They might be heading toward Bankokudo.” “Ushimaru-kun.” “Yokomitsu-kun.” “Haruki-kun? What’s wrong?” “You two keep watch over Bankokudo’s front.” “Kodama-kun and Tabata-kun—watch the back entrance.” “Got it!” “But Haruki-kun—” “What’ll you do?” “I’ll stay here watching Bankokudo from this window.” “The inspector should arrive soon—everyone go now.”

“Alright, Haruki-kun, you take care now!” “Don’t worry. You all take care instead. Don’t do anything reckless until the Inspector gets here!” “Understood.” “Understood.” “Alright, everyone, let’s go!” After Ushimaru Heitarou led the way and the four boys scattered out of the building, Haruki was left alone in the dark reception room. When he approached the window, the droning roar of the helicopter grew ever closer. Looking down, Bankokudo remained shrouded in darkness. Ah, what could be happening deep inside Bankokudo at this very moment?

The boy Haruki was comparing the distant sky where the droning roar drew nearer and Bankokudo’s dark skylight with his hands clenched in sweat when, just then, the inspector’s party seemed to have arrived. From both the front and back of Bankokudo, accompanied by the deafening sound of doors being pounded, “Open up! Open up! Open this place here!”

Then came the roar of angry shouts. "Ah! Thank goodness... The Inspector's here..." Haruki felt his tension momentarily ease—but at that instant, a familiar helicopter materialized from the distant sky, its trajectory unerringly aimed at Bankokudo. Catching the half-moon's glow on its rotors, it advanced with ominous leisure.

Below, the inspector’s party was frantically pounding on Bankokudo’s front and back doors, but upon seeing there was no response from inside, they resolved that this was the end and set about breaking them down. Now’s our chance! Now that things had come to this, they were as good as rats trapped in a bag—that strange little man and Cat Woman had nowhere left to run. The boy Haruki had just begun to let out a sigh of relief when—no—he realized it was still too soon to feel at ease. What concerned him was that helicopter. Could it be that helicopter had come to rescue the little man and Cat Woman?

That was it. So it was true after all.

The helicopter came to an abrupt halt in midair above Chan-wu’s shop and began intently scouting the ground below. And then, at that very moment, the door of Bankokudo shattered. Scattered from both the front and back, the inspector’s party barged in. Probably, the comrades of the Boy Detectives Club also joined in and rushed inside.

However, almost simultaneously with the inspectors rushing in, Bankokudo’s skylight shattered with a crash. And then, when he saw the figure squirming up onto the roof from there, the boy Haruki was so shocked his guts somersaulted. Ah, what in the world... The figure that crawled out from under the skylight was a giant resembling a sumo grand champion. He wore a Chinese robe with a trailing hem and a flower-shaped crown on his head. Around the crown's edge hung three-layered veils.

“Ah! Shima Kenshaku!” The boy Haruki involuntarily cried out inwardly and shuddered violently in the dark window’s corner.

The boy Haruki had never met Leader Shima before now. However, that bizarre appearance was something he had been told about many times by Ushimaru Heitarou. The demon-like brutality of Leader Shima had been drilled into him through repeated accounts from Old Man Togura and Ushimaru Heitarou until he could recite them by heart.

That Leader Shima suddenly emerged from Bankokudo’s skylight, now surrounded by the police. The boy Haruki was both startled and dumbfounded. Where had Shima Kenshaku been hiding all this time? No—even more puzzling was what had become of Cat Woman and the little man...

While Haruki Kiyoshi stood frozen in bewilderment at the window, Shima Kenshaku—now positioned on Bankokudo’s roof—aimed his concealed flashlight upward and drew three circles in the empty sky. And at the same moment, a single rope ladder unfurled down from the helicopter. Shima Kenshaku staggered unsteadily and grabbed hold of the rope ladder.

Ah, if we leave things like this, Shima Kenshaku will get away—

Unable to bear it any longer, the boy Haruki leaned out the window and shouted at the top of his voice. “Ah! Inspector! Over here, over here! The villain is escaping from the roof!” Just at that moment, Shima Kenshaku had left the roof and come right before the boy Haruki’s nose when—upon hearing that voice—Bang! A shot rang out! The boy Haruki cried out “Agh!” and threw himself onto the floor. However, even without the boy Haruki’s shouting, the inspector’s party had already noticed the helicopter’s roar. That being the case, they scrambled up to the roof upon finding it suspicious—but frustration! They were just a step too late. A step too late, Shima Kenshaku—still dangling from the rope ladder—leisurely made his escape into the void.

Bang! Bang! From the police officers’ hands, pistols fired simultaneously, but by now it was too late. Shima Kenshaku's dangling helicopter gradually vanished into the distance, growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view in the half-moon-lit sky. Waiting for the helicopter’s roar to fade into the distance, Haruki clambered up from the floor and descended along the emergency ladder to Bankokudo’s roof,

“Ah, it’s you… The one who called earlier… What a shame—even after you went to the trouble of warning us, we still let the villain slip away.” Inspector Akiyoshi ground his teeth in frustration.

“Huh? Then does that mean you let the little man and Cat Woman escape too?” “The little man and Cat Woman… There’s no sign of any such strange characters anywhere, I tell you.” “That can’t be right. The one who escaped through the skylight was a giant resembling a sumo grand champion. The little man and Cat Woman should certainly still be inside Bankokudo.” At Haruki’s words, the police officers and comrades of the Boy Detectives Club divided tasks and searched Bankokudo from corner to corner, but neither the little man nor Cat Woman could be found anywhere.

Ah, how in the world could it be that the little man and Cat Woman—who should have been there—had vanished, while Shima Kenshaku—who should not have been present—had suddenly appeared from Bankokudo’s skylight?…

The boy Haruki was deeply pondering that matter but then seemed to remember something. "By the way, what happened to the owner of this house, Mr. Chan-wu?" he asked the inspector. "Ah, Chan-wu. "That poor man has been put through a terrible ordeal. "Well, come over here and see for yourself." Guided by the inspector into the inner room, the boy Haruki instinctively gasped and pressed a handkerchief to his face. In the room's large brazier, charcoal fire blazed fiercely, filling the entire area with a smell like scorching meat.

“Look here. They put Chan-wu’s legs… those very legs on the coals and tortured him. There really are people who do such terrible things. They’re absolute demons, devils!” Chan-wu’s legs—bound to the chair—were painfully blistered and oozing blood. Chan-wu had lost consciousness, unable to endure the torture, but the moment the boy Haruki caught sight of his face, he involuntarily let out a gasp and leapt up from the floor.

“Ah! Th-this… this is Old Man Togura!” Ah, so Chan-wu had been Old Man Togura in disguise all along.

Phantom Ship *Kuroryu Maru*

Changing scenes, this was the helicopter that had rescued Leader Shima.

After leaving Bankokudo on Coastal Avenue, they gradually set a westward course past Suma toward Akashi, then abruptly changed direction and headed out into southern waters. Then, skirting along Awaji Island’s eastern coast toward Osaka Bay’s mouth, they spotted a meaningfully flickering light from the island’s shadow and gradually advanced toward its airspace.

The source of the flare signals directed at the helicopter was a small steamship—approximately 300 tons—anchored in the shadow of Awaji Island, its name being *Kuroryu Maru*. The helicopter arrived directly above the *Kuroryu Maru*, came to an abrupt halt, and began gradually descending. When the end of the rope ladder touched the deck, Shima Kenshaku unsteadily disembarked from the rope ladder onto the deck. Seeing this, Kido and Senba Kojiro hurriedly gathered around. Namitachi Ni was piloting the helicopter.

Shima Kenshaku stood imposingly on the deck, “You lot go over there.” “Then bring Dr. Tsukue to my room five minutes later.” “Got it? Understood?” “If you understand, move!” “But Leader—how did it go?” “Did you get the real Golden Medal’s half fragment?” “That doesn’t matter.” “Must I repeat myself about hurrying?!” The Leader roared with a voice like rusted hinges—a hallmark of Shima Kenshaku’s foul moods. Opposing him carelessly during such times risked a dose from the poison rod. Heeding the proverb “let sleeping gods lie,” Kido and Senba Kojiro slunk down from the deck. Only after their figures vanished did Shima Kenshaku begin staggering forward.

Strangely enough, Shima Kenshaku had a peculiar habit of intensely disliking being seen walking by his subordinates in any situation. On the sole occasion when he was X-rayed by Dr. Tsukue and accompanied him to his room, he threatened the doctor with the poison rod, never allowing him to turn around. And whenever meeting his subordinates, he would always be leaning back in that large chair with the dragon carving.

Putting that aside, five minutes later, when Kido and Namitachi Ni hauled Dr. Tsukue into the leader’s room, Shima Kenshaku was sprawled in his large chair as usual. “Well, Dr. Tsukue?” Shima Kenshaku said in a voice like a creaking hinge. “Has your shoulder wound healed? It’s because you hid the medal in such a place that I had no choice but to resort to drastic measures. Moreover, the half fragment of the Golden Medal that you went through so much trouble to obtain and hide turned out to be a counterfeit—there’s no greater humiliation than this. Ha, ha, ha! This is what they mean by ‘dig two graves when cursing someone’!”

“No, no! That’s impossible!”

Seized by Kido and Namitachi Ni from both sides, Dr. Tsukue strained his shrill voice. “That’s... That’s impossible! It’s an ancient gold coin with historical provenance!” “Oh yes indeed, it’s an ancient gold coin with historical provenance.” “But ultimately, it remains a counterfeit.” “Now listen carefully, Dr. Tsukue—I’ll explain why.” Shima Kenshaku leaned forward from his chair, “As you well know, that medal was split in two by Pirate King Delma—who recorded his buried treasure’s location—and given to his two lieutenants: Octan and Hezar.” “The descendant of Hezar stands before you—that is to say, Lord Shima Kenshaku.” “While Octan’s descendant is that Togura Yasomarou.” “Both lineages wandered Eastern lands seeking the treasure, wedding locals through generations until their Eastern blood dominated.” “Now Delma had another subordinate—Tsukuwa—a black-hearted traitor exiled without treasure share.” “Bitter with resentment, Tsukuwa doggedly pursued both fragments—yet only once seized Octan’s half.” “At that time he forged a counterfeit, but soon Octan caught and killed him—claiming both genuine and fake halves.” “What you obtained and guarded like a tiger cub—that prize you cherished—was Tsukuwa’s ancient counterfeit! And Tsukuwa? Dr. Tsukue—your own ancestor!” “Well? Do you comprehend now?” “A descendant duped by his forebear’s forgery.” “Could anything be more ludicrous?” “Ha ha ha!”

Laughed off with a voice like a cracked bell, Dr. Tsukue was crushed flat in an instant. Shima Kenshaku had been laughing uproariously while clutching his stomach for some time, but when he finally managed to stop, “Ah, but Dr. Tsukue—I still have to thank you.” “Tonight I found out Togura had disguised himself as some Chinese called Chan-wu, snuck in, and tried torturing him to cough up the real one—but the stubborn bastard wouldn’t talk.” “So I figured I’d try getting by with a counterfeit instead.” “This here’s the fan-shaped half fragment passed down from Hezar—the real deal.” “And this one—the crescent-shaped half that came out of your shoulder meat—is a fake like I said.”

With that，Shima Kenshaku laid them out on the desk. Seeing the two Golden Medal half-fragments，Kido and Namitachi Ni involuntarily gasped and exchanged glances. “Leader，wh-what happened to that fan-shaped one?” “But wasn’t that supposed to have been snatched away by that damn Cat Woman some time ago?”

At Kido’s words, Shima Kenshaku appeared startled for a moment, but immediately feigned nonchalance with a sneer, “Oh, I retrieved it from Cat Woman.” “She’s merely a Cat Woman—it was no trouble retrieving it.” “Now, when these two half-fragments are joined, both the fracture lines and inscriptions align perfectly—so though this is a counterfeit, the inscription here must have been engraved exactly like the genuine article.” “Look—this is the text I deciphered through painstaking effort.”

Seeing the scrap of paper Shima Kenshaku had taken from his breast pocket, Dr. Tsukue's eyes gleamed like a vulture's. Written there was: Crescent-shaped Fragment My secret Let those who seek Act in harmony Guard the Holy Bones

Appear afterward Right medal fragment Insert simultaneously into the left hole Immediately Press firmly If properly obeyed It shall be opened before you Fan-shaped part Succession mandate Cease both shells Ascend Hexa Hall’s tower Remove the two crocodile statues Place gold into each respective hole Insert the left fragment into the right hole Insert them, then— The two medals Ye who follow my command The vault shall open unto you Battle preparations

Old Man Togura Yasomarou, who had sustained severe burns on both legs due to the cruel demonic leader Shima Kenshaku, was immediately carried to the hospital afterward; fortunately, his subsequent recovery progressed well, and within a week, he became able to stroll through the hospital garden with a cane in hand.

The ones who came to visit Old Man Togura Yasomarou daily were the five comrades of the Boy Detectives Club. Starting with Haruki Kiyoshi—the leader of the detectives—they were Ushimaru Heitarou along with Tabata, Yokomitsu, and Kodama—the three boys. Old Man Togura—precisely because he had dedicated his life to fierce adventures chasing pirate treasures—had never known family warmth, much less ever considered children’s charm even once until now. Having sustained unexpected injuries and finding himself bored in the hospital during this interval, receiving the boys’ daily visits made him keenly feel for the first time both their endearing innocence and his own growing yearning for a peaceful life—a desire that strengthened day by day.

“Ah, I’m getting old. I want to wash my hands of the dangerous world of adventure as soon as possible and live happily with these children like this every day.” In Old Man Togura’s heart, such thoughts gradually deepened, but the boys, on the contrary, took immense delight in hearing tales of bygone adventures from his lips. When Old Man Togura spun out tales in an unbroken stream from his lips—big game hunts in Africa, crocodile exterminations in the tropics, sandstorms in the Sahara Desert, or even stories of encountering storms and being cast ashore on a deserted island in a shipwreck—how the boys’ blood must have boiled and their flesh leaped with excitement! The boys dreamed that someday they too would become the protagonists of such adventure tales.

Ah, Old Man Togura loved peace, and the boys yearned for adventure—it was precisely there that life’s true form existed, and the progress of the world could not be achieved without it.

Be that as it may, today being no exception, just as Old Man Togura Yasomarou had gathered the five boys who came to visit him and was cheerfully recounting old memories, Inspector Akiyoshi arrived. "Well, you're all here as usual," "Oh, Inspector, good day." "Inspector, good day." Old Man Togura Yasomarou watched with narrowed eyes as the five comrades of the Boy Detectives Club took off their hats and smiled brightly while greeting the Inspector. "Inspector, please listen. These children come to visit me every day, so I can't tell you how much I look forward to it. Lately I've come to feel completely like a child again—so much so that I want to live peacefully like this forever."

“Ha ha ha ha ha, you have changed quite a bit,” Inspector Akiyoshi laughed. “However, Mr. Togura—while it’s commendable you’ve come to cherish peace in this manner—before that matter settles, there remains a problem we must absolutely resolve.” “Of course,” Old Man Togura replied immediately. “This concerns Shima Kenshaku, does it not? Naturally, I remain resolved to fight that bastard to the bitter end—but Inspector, have you received any new intelligence regarding their movements since then?”

“Ah, I have received some information. However, Mr. Togura, before that matter, there’s something I must ask first. What exactly is your relationship with Shima Kenshaku?”

Hearing this, Old Man Togura closed his eyes and pondered for a while, then suddenly snapped them open, “Well, let me tell you. Now that things have come to this, I have no choice but to lay everything bare and seek your assistance. Just listen. This is how it stands.” What Old Man Togura revealed then was the same story he had once told Haruki and Ushimaru in the mountain hut on Mount Yamahime. But now he continued further,

“In other words, Pirate King Delma handed down half-pieces of the Golden Medal to Octan and Hezarl—and their descendants are myself, Togura, and Shima Kenshaku. But this Shima Kenshaku is a highly dubious figure. From what I’ve heard, Hezarl’s descendant contracted an illness in childhood that halted his physical growth entirely, leaving him a small man to this day.” “Even so, I’ve heard that when he came of age, he married and had a daughter—but there’s no way that daughter could be a woman as large as a sumo wrestler.” “So, I truly have no idea who that masked leader Shima Kenshaku really is.”

Upon hearing Old Man Togura’s story, Haruki Kiyoshi’s eyes glinted sharply, but before he could open his mouth, Inspector Akiyoshi leaned forward, “I see, I see. That gives me a rough grasp of the situation—but regarding this Chan-fu who was killed some time ago…” “Ah, that matter?” Old Man Togura’s expression darkened slightly, “That…was a truly pitiful thing I did.” “He wasn’t my twin or anything of the sort.” “During my wanderings overseas, I found him—a living double of me—and thought he might prove useful.” “To deceive Shima Kenshaku’s eyes, I took the name Chan-fu and opened that Bankokudo Antique Shop—but I needed to travel constantly.” “So to avoid arousing neighbors’ suspicions during my absences, I always had that man serve as my body double.” “That…led to what happened…”

Old Man Togura blinked his eyes—now they finally understood. Now, for the first time, they could comprehend the meaning of Old Man Togura’s resolute declaration in the mountain hut on Mount Yamahime—that Chan-fu being killed had been utterly impossible. The real Chan-fu was none other than Old Man Togura himself.

“I see. That gives me a rough grasp of the situation,” said Inspector Akiyoshi. “Well then, I’ll share the information that has come my way.” The inspector opened his notebook and continued, “Since you had previously requested we search around Awaji Island, I coordinated with local police to thoroughly comb both the island and its coastline. As expected, we obtained some promising leads.” “First,” he read, “there are reports of suspicious steamships periodically circling Awaji Island. Second, residents have reported hearing whirring noises resembling bamboo-copters late at night above the island. When we traced the epicenter of these rotating sounds, investigators identified an old Western-style building called Hexa Hall.”

“That’s it!” Old Man Togura suddenly clapped his hands and shouted. “That’s it, that’s it, Inspector! The problem undoubtedly lies in that Hexa Hall.” “The fact that Pirate King Delma established his base on Awaji Island remains recorded in ancient documents.” “At that time, Delma is said to have disguised himself as a benevolent missionary and built a Catholic church at the island’s center.” “Hexa Hall must certainly be that very structure.” “There—Pirate King Delma’s treasure lies concealed.”

Old Man Togura’s voice grew increasingly shrill with excitement. Perhaps infected by this fervor, the Boy Detectives Club members sat with palms sweating in suspense, their eyes darting between Old Man Togura’s face and Inspector Akiyoshi’s. Inspector Akiyoshi smiled warmly,

“That’s right. We’ve placed Hexa Hall under strict surveillance based on that very assumption. By the way, Mr. Togura—how fare your battle preparations? If your leg’s recovered sufficiently, I thought we might go together.”

“Of course I’ll go.” “What’s this? Just a few burns!” “Inspector!” At that moment, the one who called out in a tense voice from the side was Haruki Kiyoshi, the Detective Chief of the Boy Detectives Club. “Please take us along.” “We also want to know Shima Kenshaku’s true identity.” When he heard that, Inspector Akiyoshi smiled, “Of course I’ll take you along. After all, you’re the ones who contributed the most to this case.”

Ah, thus were the battle preparations completed.

With the vicious Shima Kenshaku as their opponent, how would the Boy Detectives Club fare? Over Awaji Island, storm clouds of no ordinary nature were now about to be stirred up.

Hexa Hall

In the central part of Awaji Island, deep within a mountainous region far from human habitation, there stood a building called Hexa Hall.

In ancient times, aside from the legend that it was built by a missionary who came from Spain during the Warring States period—a time as tangled as hemp leaves—no one knows the origins of this Hexa Hall.

Since then, through countless seasons battered by wind and rain, Hexa Hall had weathered with age and fallen into ruin, yet had fortunately neither been consumed by fire nor claimed by flood, and even now towered imposingly in the central mountainous region of Awaji Island.

At some point, it became a Catholic monastery where foreign monks of rigorous morals led pure, disciplined lives in women-forbidden seclusion, never neglecting their morning and evening devotions to the Virgin Mary. It was late November, when autumn had fully ripened, that five middle school students led by two teachers came to visit this Hexa Hall.

When the elderly teacher met with the abbot and requested permission to tour Hexa Hall's interior, the Spanish-descended old abbot promptly agreed with good cheer and summoned a young monk.

“Rosario, these people wish to tour the interior of Hexa Hall.” “Though it may be troublesome, kindly guide them.” “Understood.” Having lived in Japan for many years, the monks residing in Hexa Hall were all proficient in Japanese.

“Now then, everyone, please follow me.” “Oh, no, thank you very much.” Of course, this group of middle school students consisted of Old Man Togura, Inspector Akiyoshi, and five comrades from the Boy Detectives Club. They each carried sketchbooks and cameras, but their true purpose was not sketching or photography—it went without saying that they were there to scout the interior of the hall. After touring the old, crumbling interior of the hall, the young monk Rosario soon guided the group to Hexa Hall’s tower. This very tower was Hexa Hall’s renowned feature; the ancient tower towering in the mountainous region stood imposingly within the forest and was said to be visible from ten ri in all directions.

“Oh! So this is what they meant by a commanding view.”

When they reached the top of the tower, Old Man Togura—disguised as an elderly professor—gazed down at the view below and let slip an awed murmur. Indeed, it was a truly magnificent view. To the east lay the Kii Peninsula across Osaka Bay; to the west stretched the mountains of Shikoku beyond the strait, with islands floating in the Seto Inland Sea—all visible as clearly as if held in one’s palm. “This is considered the most sacred place within Hexa Hall,” Rosario explained. “Therefore, we enshrine the Holy Bones of our First Abbot within this tower.” “Please observe,” he continued, “That altar holds the urn containing those sacred remains.”

Looking around the circular room, they saw a large cross hanging in a niche on the far wall. Before it stood an altar bearing the Golden Urn, flanked by two golden crocodile statues crouching as if guarding the Holy Bones themselves. Old Man Togura observed this arrangement and suddenly remembered the inscription from the half-burnt Golden Medal fragment.

"My secret... behold those who... harmoniously... protect the holy bones... appear after..." (omitted below). Since we didn't have the other half of the fragment, we couldn't grasp its full meaning, but given that there was a phrase about 'protecting the holy bones...', the text inscribed on the Golden Medal must have been pointing to this very room within the tower.

"That's it! That had to be it! Yet even with this realization, the tragedy of lacking the Golden Medal's other half-fragment meant there remained no way to unravel the deeper mysteries."

Putting that aside, while they were occupied with touring the hall’s interior, the sun had completely set, and even rain began pattering down. As mentioned before, Hexa Hall was located in a remote mountainous region, so now that things had come to this, they were unable to leave. As the group stood looking perplexed, the kind old abbot suggested they stay for the night. And though humble, they provided supper for them.

In truth, this was exactly what the group had hoped for. They had deliberately prolonged their tour solely because they wanted to spend the night there.

Now, when the group of seven were shown to a spacious bedroom on the second floor of the hall, they immediately gathered their brows and began deliberations. "I believe the issue lies within that tower. You all saw it too, didn't you? The altar enshrining the Holy Bones of the First Abbot—I find its surroundings rather suspicious. What do you think?" "Old man, does that mean Shima Kenshaku is also after that tower?"

“Hmm, I do think that’s correct.” “So what do you think?” “Whether Shima Kenshaku comes tonight is doubtful, but let’s try investigating that tower ourselves.”

In response to this, no one voiced any opposition. After waiting for the monks to fall into a deep slumber, the group of seven stealthily slipped out of their bedroom and arrived at a room in the ancient tower. The time had already passed midnight, and the rain that had begun in the evening had finally turned into a downpour; the tower's peak, which had boasted such a splendid view during the day, was now enveloped in pitch-black darkness. The group had made their way through that darkness, relying on the beams of their flashlights, and arrived before the altar—when it happened. One of the Boy Detectives Club members, Yokomitsu-kun, let out a small cry of surprise.

“Wh-what’s wrong, Yokomitsu-kun…?”

“That sound… Listen—that buzzing noise like a bamboo-copter…” Hearing this, the group collectively held their breath in the darkness—and yes, there it was! Amidst the pouring rain, they could hear it, they could hear it: the droning buzz of a helicopter. Moreover, no sooner had the sound drawn near to the sky above Hexa Hall than a searchlight beam came sweeping down from above.

“Oh no! They’re searching for Hexa Hall’s location!”

As Old Man Togura shouted, a machine gun erupted with a terrifying rat-a-tat-tat sound. From the helicopter above, they were unleashing a storm of machine gun fire around Hexa Hall.

“Look out!”

“Everyone, take cover!” The group of seven scattered across the four walls like a torn spiderweb and concealed themselves behind the curtains. Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat! The machine gun’s roar persisted relentlessly as bullets poured down like hailstones into the forest encircling Hexa Hall.

Grand Climax As the machine gun’s roar abruptly ceased, the helicopter appeared to halt above Hexa Hall, and a droning buzz came from the same direction.

Ah, he understood. He understood—Shima Kenshaku planned to attack Hexa Hall from the sky tonight. To ensure nobody approached the tower, they had fired warning shots from above. The monks were likely turning pale and huddling in their rooms. Ah, what brazen brutality! The five Boy Detectives Club members, along with Old Man Togura and Inspector Akiyoshi, held their breath behind curtains when—noticed or not—Kido, Senba Kojiro following him, then Dr. Tsukue, and finally the masked Shima Kenshaku abruptly entered the tower. The helicopter's searchlight made the interior brighter than daylight. The group must have just descended via the rope ladder. Their legs swayed slightly.

“Hey, Dr. Tsukue!” Shima Kenshaku tottered unsteadily toward the front of the altar, then shouted in a voice like a cracked bell. “At last, we’ve arrived at the treasure trove! If I act now, the treasure will be mine in an instant. How about that? Jealous? If you’d just stayed quiet, you could’ve gotten a scrap of it—but since you betrayed me, even if you enter that trove, you’ll leave empty-handed! Ha ha ha, ha ha ha!”

As Shima Kenshaku was doubled over laughing, Dr. Tsukue gnashed his molars. Then, with a terrifying visage, he suddenly shoved Shima’s body from behind.

And then—what do you think happened?

No sooner had the masked leader—with his hulking, rock-like frame—pitifully staggered than his body folded at the waist and collapsed onto the floor with a thunderous crash. “Damn you!” Shima Kenshaku shouted from behind his mask, but he could only writhe on the floor, thrashing helplessly, utterly unable to rise. As Kido and Senba Kojiro stared dumbfounded, something suddenly popped out from Shima Kenshaku’s baggy clothes—good heavens, it was a diminutive man and Ms. Tachibana Katsumi!

The seven people hiding behind the curtains were surprised, but even more astonished were Kido and Senba Kojiro. They let out a yelp and jumped up as if they had stepped on a frog. Among them, the only one doubled over with laughter was the devilish Dr. Tsukue. “Ha ha ha! East meets West—the masked leader Shima Kenshaku’s true form is nothing but a runt riding piggyback on some mannish woman!” “Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha!” “Hey, you! You’re that midget’s daughter, aren’t you?” “And Cat Woman refers to none other than you!” “You squeezed into your old man’s clothes and made fools of us all!” “Listen up, Kido! Senba Kojiro! Now that you see they’re just a puny man and some woman, there’s nothing left to fear!” “Stop obeying these clowns! Become this Dr. Tsukue’s right-hand men instead!” “Take them down!”

But at this moment, Dr. Tsukue forgot about Shima Kenshaku’s terrifying weapon. Dr. Tsukue, before his last words even finished, “Agh! Hot, hot, hot!” he screamed, clutching his right eye. When they looked, a thick needle was deeply embedded in his right eye. “Agh! Hot, hot, hot!” Dr. Tsukue screamed again and clutched his left eye this time. A thick silver needle of the same kind was deeply embedded in his left eye as well.

“Agh! Hot, hot, hot! Wha—ta—help me…”

From the poison rod held by the small man, needles flew out in rapid succession like an unbroken thread. Dr. Tsukue became a human pincushion in moments—collapsing to the floor, thrashing wildly like a speared beast before finally lying still. This marked the devilish doctor’s end. The small man chuckled wetly from his throat and— “Well? Kido! Senba Kojiro! See what happens to those who cross me?” “All traitors meet this fate.” “Crystal clear now?”

“Shh... shh... Boss...” Kido and Senba Kojiro trembled violently from sheer terror, “We’d never even think ’bout betrayin’ you, Boss...”

“So you’ve realized I’m just a small man?” “Heh heh... True enough—I may be small, but this girl here’s a real terror.” “She sees in pitch darkness, outmuscles any man alive, and kills without a second thought.”

“Dad, what are you dawdling for? Rather than that, hurry up and move the crocodile statues aside. Put the Golden Medals into the two holes.”

Ah, fearsome Tachibana Katsumi. Even as she watched Dr. Tsukue die bristling like a hedgehog, she remained composed, not so much as twitching an eyebrow. “Alright, alright. Hey, Kido, Senba Kojiro—try removing both of the crocodile statues on that altar.” “Ah, did you remove them? If you’ve removed them, there should be two holes there. Well?” “Yes, Boss, there are! There are!” “Hmm, there they are. Then, try putting these medals in one by one.” “The right half-piece into the right hole, the left half-piece into the left hole… Did you put them in? Good. Now then…” “I’ll give the signal—push together with all your might on my count: One… Two… Three!”

At that very moment, a thunderous roar pierced through Hexa Hall’s tower and shot into the dark night sky. The group of seven hiding behind the curtain momentarily felt the floor beneath them sway like leaves floating on water, but in the next instant, when they timidly peeked out from behind the curtain—lo and behold—Kido, Senba Kojiro, the small man, Cat Woman, Ms. Tachibana Katsumi, and even Dr. Tsukue, who had died bristling like a hedgehog, had all vanished without a trace. The boy Haruki Kiyoshi wore a look of utter bewilderment for a moment, but then cautiously stepped out from behind the curtain,

“Ah, everyone—please come here. “Oh! Look—over there…” At his voice, the group scrambled out from behind the curtain in disarray to find a gaping hole about six meters before the altar. Peering inside, they saw dark water swirling violently tens of meters below. And caught in that whirlpool, the small man, Ms. Tachibana Katsumi, Dr. Tsukue, Kido, and Senba Kojiro all swiftly sank deep into the water’s depths.

“It’s a pitfall.”

“Hmm, a pitfall,” Inspector Akiyoshi wiped the sweat from his face as “But why did things turn out like that? Were the words on the Golden Medal just lies meant to trap people?” Old Man Togura did not answer. He extracted the counterfeit half-piece from the altar’s left hole and examined the characters carved on its reverse side. After a moment, he smiled warmly and—

“I see now—they were fooled by the text written on this counterfeit half-piece,” Togura Yasomarou explained. “The genuine one I possess says that after inserting both halves into the holes, you must first (move to the wall) before pushing both medals (with a long pole). But this counterfeit instructs to immediately (press firmly) on both medals instead. That’s why they fell into the emergency trap Pirate King Delma had prepared.”

Ah, that too must have been their own doing.

Putting that aside, while the group was preoccupied with the pitfall, Ushimaru Heitarou, who had been glancing around restlessly, suddenly—

“Ah!” came a shrill cry. “Look at that, everyone! Look at that! It’s an incredible treasure—a whole mountain o’ treasure spillin’ over!” At that voice, the group whirled around as if yanked by strings. What met their eyes was a niche adorned with a cross split clean down the middle—from its cleft came cascading ancient gold coins and glittering jewels... Upon Hexa Hall’s altar-tower, a rainbow-hued mountain of treasure rapidly piled up before their widening eyes....

The gang of villains, led by Shima Kenshaku, were all destroyed.

Only one—Namitachi Ni, who had boarded the helicopter—remained untraceable afterward, but what could he, having lost his leader, possibly do? Afterward, there were those who claimed to have seen what appeared to be helicopter fragments floating off the coast of the Kii Peninsula—could it be that these tell of Namitachi Ni’s final moments?

Rumors of the jewels and ancient gold coins discovered at Hexa Hall instantly spread across the world. When converted into modern currency, it was said to amount to such an enormous sum that no one knew how many zeros to add. All those treasures were allocated for Japan's educational revival, with Old Man Togura, the Boy Detectives Club, and even Inspector Akiyoshi and his team not gaining a single penny from them. Despite that—no, precisely because of that—both Old Man Togura and the Boy Detectives Club comrades found happiness.

Afterward, Old Man Togura sold off his shop on the coastal avenue and built a house on a hill in Akashi overlooking Awaji Island, which held memories for him. He now spent his remaining years quietly while growing flowers and plants. Old Man Togura’s greatest joy, it was said, was treating the Boy Detectives Club comrades—who would come to stay overnight from Saturday to Sunday—to feasts.