Pathway to Japanese Literature

Wax Doll

For those two boys, encountering such terror was the first experience of their lives. On a Sunday in early spring, sixth-grade students Shimada-kun and Kishita-kun visited their teacher's home, listened to fascinating stories, and finally departed at dusk. The strange incident happened during their return journey. "Oh, this feels wrong," said Shimada-kun, peering around curiously. "I've never been through this part of town before."

Shimada-kun looked around with a puzzled expression and said.

“You’re right. I’ve never walked through here before either. It feels like such a lonely town, doesn’t it?”

Kishita also made a strange face as he surveyed the wide, completely deserted avenue.

In the dim evening light spreading across unfamiliar streets never seen before lay stretched endless rows of fruit shops confectioneries butcher shops all devoid of human presence—not one soul visible behind counters nor wandering sidewalks—as if humanity itself had been erased leaving only hollow storefronts standing like tombstones marking civilization’s sudden disappearance making reality itself seem suspect. As they walked past these ghostly storefronts Shimada found himself muttering “This feels wrong…” when suddenly an imposing antique shop arrested their attention its grand display window filled with weathered Buddha statues and ornate pottery arranged like sacred relics compelling both boys instinctively freeze mid-step drawn by some unspoken force.

“My father likes these kinds of Buddha statues. Whenever we walk together and come across an antique shop, he always stops. And he’ll stare at them forever. But I hate old Buddha statues. It’s kind of your fault, you know.” When Shimada-kun said this, Kishita-kun also,

“Yeah, you’re to blame. That Buddha statue room at the museum—they all looked alive somehow. When I went there once, it really scared me. Though I guess those statues are mostly national treasures, huh?” “Hey, look—that black metal Buddha in the center has an Indian-style face, doesn’t it?” “They usually do. Buddhism started in India after all.”

The two boys continued saying such things as they gradually moved around to the side of the show window. This was because there was a Buddha statue that couldn’t be seen clearly unless viewed from the side.

When they suddenly noticed, there stood a well-dressed gentleman at the front of the show window where the two had initially stopped. Wearing a soft hat that gleamed brightly, with his overcoat collar turned up to conceal his chin, he stared fixedly at one particular Buddha statue. It was a small Buddha statue made of dark metal, about fifteen centimeters tall, but there it sat in the center of the show window, placed on an elaborate stand and displayed as if it were something precious.

Kishita had been staring at the gentleman’s face when suddenly—as if startled—he jabbed his elbow into Shimada’s side without warning.

When Shimada-kun looked up in surprise, Kishita-kun’s eyes were wide as saucers, looking ready to pop out of their sockets. And those perfectly round eyes were staring so intently at the gentleman’s face on the other side of the glass that it seemed they might bore holes through it.

Shimada-kun also looked at the gentleman’s face. Then Shimada-kun’s eyes also widened as round as saucers, looking ready to pop out of their sockets, just like Kishita’s. What could have startled the two boys so terribly? That was because the gentleman’s face was not a human face.

At first, the two boys thought the gentleman might be wearing a mask. However, if it were a mask, there should have been strings fastened around both ears, but upon closer inspection, no such strings were visible anywhere. There was no boundary between the mask and his real face. If it were a mask, it must have been a special one that covered his entire head. The gentleman’s face looked exactly like a Westerner doll in a clothing store’s show window. That doll was not made of wax, but this gentleman’s face was smooth as wax and translucent white. It was a wax doll. The wax doll had come trudging through town and now stood before the show window.

A face tinged with a faint blush, pure white in complexion, with a high nose and a handsome mustache—it was the visage of a beautiful Western man. However, it was not a living face. His eyebrows, eyes, and mouth—no matter how long one looked at them—showed not the slightest movement. It did not move like a wax doll. Moreover, this gentleman had no eyeballs. The two eyes only appeared pitch black, like hollow cavities. The gentleman was staring at the small Buddha statue as if devouring it with his gaze and seemed completely unaware of the two boys standing off to the side of the show window.

Both Shimada-kun and Kishita-kun wanted to flee immediately from this eerie gentleman's side. Yet their bodies had stiffened completely, leaving them incapable of movement. What terrified them was the notion that the slightest motion might make the wax doll suddenly leap at them.

The interval seemed excruciatingly long to them, but in truth, not even five minutes had passed. Eventually, the wax-doll gentleman left the front of the show window and began to walk away. Using a bamboo walking stick with many joints, he walked away in a strange manner reminiscent of a mechanical doll—clomp, clomp—with heavy, deliberate steps. The two boys exchanged glances. Should they flee in the opposite direction right now, or should they follow that strange gentleman and expose his true identity? The two boys held that silent discussion with their eyes without uttering a word.

And so, they had settled on following him after all. Their desire to know the truth was stronger than their unease at how creepy it was. The two boys hunched their backs and began tailing the strange gentleman, moving as if hugging the shadows beneath the eaves.

The Third Tail In the evening town, there were strangely no passersby. The town was deathly quiet. And with the entire town seemingly shrouded in mist, if they let their guard down even slightly, the Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman might slip into that haze and vanish without a trace. Shimada-kun suddenly wondered if he might be dreaming—so much so that he thought, *Am I seeing this in a dream right now?*

The Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman turned many street corners. Each time, the boys found themselves entering increasingly unfamiliar neighborhoods.

Before they knew it, the area became a residential district, with long concrete walls extending on both sides. The boys had nothing to hide behind. They had no choice but to press themselves flat against the wall and crawl sideways like crabs.

The Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman kept walking through the mist about thirty meters ahead in the same rhythm—clomp, clomp. With each step, his bamboo walking stick bent with a creak, creak.

At any moment, he might turn around. Though they were already quivering with fear at the thought that he might spot us with those hollow eyes and come chasing after us, fortunately, the Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman never once looked back, walking straight ahead like a mechanical doll incapable of turning its head. When the concrete walls ended, the area transitioned into a town lined with hedges. The hedges were convenient for hiding their bodies, but the loneliness only grew more intense.

However, around that time, another strange thing occurred. The number of people tailing had increased by one. The two boys hadn’t noticed in the slightest, but from about twenty meters behind them, a gentleman was also following their trail. Though called a gentleman, that was no wax doll. The wax doll had not become two. He was a nimble-looking gentleman in his mid-thirties dressed like a newspaper reporter.

It wasn’t clear whether this man was tailing the two boys or following the wax doll walking further ahead, but one thing was certain—he wasn’t jittery like the boys. The proof was that this gentleman had been walking with a smirk on his face all this time. It was a strange way of laughing—somehow vaguely unsettling. Before long, even the hedges came to an end, and it finally became a desolate vacant lot. The area was horrifyingly desolate, with stones scattered everywhere, broken bricks piled up, and garbage heaped like mountains.

The Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman cut straight through the vacant lot and walked onward. The surroundings had grown increasingly dim. Fearing they might lose sight of the Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman if they stayed too cautious, the boys steeled themselves and closed within ten meters behind him. Then they advanced as though crawling along the ground. The reporter-like gentleman kept smirking while narrowing his distance from the boys and continuing his pursuit.

When they passed through the vacant lot strewn with rocks and bricks, there was something large with a jagged shape towering darkly beyond it. A two- or three-story brick building had been utterly destroyed, its walls left jagged like a mountain of saw blades. The Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman walked toward the ruined brick building with heavy, deliberate steps—clomp, clomp. That might be the Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman’s hideout.

The brick walls remained only on three sides, with one side broken open like an entrance. It must have originally been a large room. The Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman slipped into the brick wall through the broken entrance as though vanishing.

When they saw that, the boys became so scared they began to tremble. They both looked ready to bolt at any moment, but Kishita firmly held his ground and grabbed Shimada's arm. And in a faint whisper,

"Let's go check it out," he said. When he said that, Shimada-kun couldn't very well run away either. Summoning up courage,

“Let’s go,” he answered.

Bizarre and Uncanny

The two boys got down on all fours and cautiously inched their way across the ground strewn with rocks and bricks until they finally reached what appeared to be the entrance where the Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman had vanished. Shimada on the right and Kishita on the left pressed themselves flat against the broken walls at the edges, hiding their bodies as they stuck out only their eyes from between the shattered bricks to peer into the depths of the building. The wax doll stood imposingly in front of a brick wall about ten meters away, facing this direction. And, strangely enough, he was taking off his overcoat, removing his jacket, and now attempting to strip off even his white shirt.

The shirt’s buttons came undone one by one as if being torn away, and just as the bottom button popped off, the white shirt fluttered up into the air before falling to the ground.

Ah, what must the shock of those two boys have been like at that moment? Did they let out a blood-curdling scream? No—they couldn’t even scream. They were simply petrified, their bodies stiffening with such profound, breath-stealing shock that they couldn’t even breathe. The Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman was a monster. No—it was something far more terrifying than any ordinary monster.

Can you imagine what was beneath the removed shirt? Was there something terrifying? However, no matter how terrifying it might have been, if there had been anything there at all, they wouldn't have been so shocked. There was nothing there. Beneath the shirt lay only emptiness.

The monster’s wax-doll-like face remained intact. The hat still sat firmly on its head. Yet below that face lay no neck, no chest, no stomach, no shoulders, no arms—nothing at all. From the waist downward, two trouser-clad legs stood rooted. The void between face and trousers became unmistakable through the visible brickwork behind. Had there been a body, those rear bricks would have stayed hidden.

The two boys thought that they might be the ones going mad. They began to doubt whether they were dreaming.

But then, something even more terrifying occurred next. First, the monster's soft cap was snatched from its head as if by an invisible hand, smoothly lifting away before being flung to the ground. Then, while the two legs remained standing where they were, that wax-mask-like face alone was hoisted seventy centimeters upward. And as it swayed unsteadily left and right at that height, the head rolled to the ground as if casually tossed aside. In other words, the Mysterious Wax-doll Gentleman now retained only his lower half—his upper body had utterly disappeared.

But that wasn't all. This time, an invisible hand was attempting to remove the trousers. The belt came off. Then, the trouser buttons came undone one by one, and as the trousers were forcefully tugged downward and crumpled, they slipped completely off the legs. And inside those trousers was also completely empty.

All that remained were two shoes. The shoes began to move. As though invisible feet filled them, they thudded heavily and deliberately. Then both shoes abruptly floated upward and started a mad dance. After dancing wildly for moments, they dropped with soft plops to lie deathly still. Finally, two crumpled socks were flung down beside them.

The monster had even removed its socks. From the top of its head to the tips of its toes, it wore nothing at all—it was now completely stark naked. And then, it vanished completely. It had become something like air, completely invisible to human eyes. Then, once again, something strange occurred. The scattered pieces nearby—the wax doll’s head, hat, overcoat, trousers, shirt, shoes, socks, and bamboo cane—began sliding smoothly of their own accord, gathering in one spot. Then the overcoat swirled around and enveloped them all. In other words, everything had been enveloped by the overcoat.

The bundle floated smoothly into the air. Then, along the back brick wall, it moved toward the right. At the edge of that wall was a hole large enough for a person to pass through. The overcoat bundle, still floating midair, disappeared into the hole.

No sooner had it vanished than a strange scream—*“Gyagh!”*—suddenly erupted from outside the hole, accompanied by the violent crash of something colliding with tremendous force. Then, after a moment of dead silence, a trouser-clad leg slid smoothly out from the hole in the wall, and soon a man in Western clothes emerged.

The boys gasped in alarm, thinking the wax-doll monster had returned wearing its clothes again—but it was not the monster. Instead, it was that journalist-like gentleman, the third tailer from before.

“Hmm… It slipped away cleanly.” “That guy’s got some real power…” “Ah, but no matter—I’ve seen its true form now. We’re safe.” “They’ll collar it soon enough—mark my words.”

The gentleman had been muttering such things to himself, but when he turned toward the two boys crouching behind the bricks, “You’re all right now.” “Come on out.” “That guy’s gotten away.”

he called out in a loud voice.

Even though he said this, the two boys—petrified by sheer terror—had become like stone, unable to move a muscle, let alone utter a sound. “Ha ha ha ha… You’ve gotten completely scared, haven’t you? That guy won’t come here anymore. Cheer up and come on out. I’m not a monster. I’m just an ordinary human. I won’t say I’ll catch and eat you. Ha ha ha…”

At that cheerful laughter, the two boys finally regained their human composure. And with a collective grunt, they stood up, brushing dirt from their clothes as they timidly approached the gentleman. "You boys tailed that guy, didn’t you? I’m impressed. Actually, I’ve been tailing that guy after you boys. And I thought I’d set up an ambush outside this hole to catch him, but since we’re dealing with an invisible monster, I ended up letting it slip away."

With that, he let out another dry chuckle. He was a bold gentleman, like a brave warrior from old monster-slaying tales. "Mr. Kurokawa, what on earth is that thing?" Kishita asked, his face deathly pale, his eyes wide and round as if about to burst from their sockets. "Even I don't know. "It's a monster. "The enigmatic monster that's currently causing a disturbance all over Tokyo."

“What? It’s causing a disturbance all over Tokyo?” “You boys probably don’t know this yet. But it’s been appearing all over Tokyo and causing mischief—no—not just mischief! It’s pulling off major heists.”

With that, the gentleman began his detailed explanation.

What sort of tale was this?

Where had that utterly invisible, air-like monster come from? Was it human? Was it an animal we had never known until now? Or was it a creature from another world that had leapt into this Earth from a distant star?

Air Man

The gentleman continued speaking.

“You boys don’t know about that monster yet, do you? “I’m a newspaper reporter, so I know all about it.” “I’m a reporter for Toyo Newspaper.” “I’ve been tailing him since the other day.” “But since he’s invisible like air, he always manages to slip away skillfully.” “That’s so strange… He’s transparent like air.” “So, he’s still human after all?”

“He’s human. Moreover, he’s a master thief.”

The newspaper reporter, having said that, paused in thought for a moment, then, comparing the two boys’ faces,

“Are you boys from around here? Well then, since there’s still some time before dinner, let’s go somewhere around here for tea while I tell you about him. After all, you’ve bravely tailed that eerie creature. You’ve earned the right to hear this story.”

The boys, of course, agreed to this, so the three left the vacant lot for the town and entered a small coffee shop. The newspaper reporter ordered coffee and cake and, while offering them to the boys, began the following story. It was about ten days ago that I first noticed that strange monster. While walking through Ginza, suddenly—thud!—something slammed into my body. I staggered and shouted, "Hey! Watch where you're going!" But when I looked, there was no one there. Undeniably, a human body collided with me. But that human was nowhere to be found.

Then, I saw two women who had been walking right behind me exclaim "Oh!" and stagger as if shoved by some unseen force. But there was no visible trace of whoever had pushed them.

I thought "This is strange," and stood still watching when, behind the women, a young man staggered again. And he shouted, "Hey! Watch it!" but since there was no one who had collided with him, he looked around puzzled.

“Well, it’s your fault. “What on earth was that?”

The two women had turned deathly pale. "It was definitely a human that collided," he said. "But there was nothing to be seen." How strange, he thought. The young man too came to a halt, glancing about nervously. At that moment, many others had been jostled by the invisible entity. People stopped in their tracks, murmuring "How odd..." and "This is strange..." No one could comprehend why such bizarre events were occurring. After some clamorous debate, they all simply dispersed.

I suddenly recalled the novel called *The Invisible Man*. "It’s a famous novel written by an Englishman named Wells," I explained. "A certain scholar invented a drug that makes the human body transparent. When you drink it, your body becomes completely invisible." When it occurred to me that what had just collided with us might be that *Invisible Man*-like creature, a chill ran down my spine.

"But *The Invisible Man* was just a novel," I told myself. "Such a conveniently perfect drug couldn't possibly exist. An invisible human being? That couldn't be real."

I dismissed my strange thoughts and just went home.

But wait—but wait!

Then two or three days later I encountered another truly bizarre incident. And I could no longer help thinking there truly was an "Invisible Man" in Tokyo.

“You boys know about the shoe shiners lined up under the Yurakucho viaduct, right? Away from that crowded row of them, there was a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old kid working a shoeshine stand all by himself.”

That evening, I was standing at a street corner waiting to meet a friend. And without really intending to look, I found myself watching the shoeshine boy.

A scary-looking guy who resembled a delinquent youth was having his shoes polished. The cute shoe-shine boy polished diligently, making the youth’s shoes shine brightly. Then the delinquent youth put his hand into his pocket and seemed to say, “I don’t have small change—give me my change.” The boy took the lid off the cardboard box at hand and began counting the money crammed inside. The box was crammed full with an astonishing amount of 100-yen bills and 10-yen coins.

The delinquent youth had been eyeing the cardboard box out of the corner of his eye when he suddenly reached out, snatched it, grabbed a fistful of money from inside, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he tossed the emptied cardboard box dismissively to the ground and immediately tried to walk away. The boy made a face like he was about to cry and clung to the delinquent youth. But he was no match for the burly delinquent. Shoved down hard, he landed on his backside and sat there pouting.

That was when it happened. At that moment, something truly bizarre occurred. The delinquent youth staggered as if he had collided with something and let out an "Ah!" Then, his face turning bright red, he began wrestling alone. Despite there being no opponent, he launched into a fierce solo struggle all by himself.

I thought this youth had gone mad. “Ugh!” Growling things like “Damn it!” and thrashing about chaotically all by himself. People began standing up two or three at a time. Everyone stared in astonishment. No one tried to restrain the delinquent youth. But before a proper crowd could form, the one-man sumo match reached its conclusion. The youth was slammed to the ground with such force that he lay flattened out.

“You want to know who threw him? “It was an invisible opponent.” “A guy like air.” “Do you get it?” “The delinquent youth was grappling with the invisible man.” When the youth collapsed completely，the area around his trouser pocket swirled hazily—then the wad of money crammed there leaped out on its own and went floating through the air with a whoosh． It slipped right back into the shoe-shine boy’s cardboard box，exactly as before． Then，the box itself began moving again and settled neatly onto the lap of the boy still sitting there dumbfounded．

At that moment, I saw it clearly. I saw something shaped like a human, hazy as mist, moving. That haze-like figure retrieved the money from the delinquent youth’s pocket and put it back into the boy’s cardboard box for him. The one who had thrown down and pinned the delinquent youth was, of course, that haze-like figure.

“Air Man—you see, I’ve been calling this Transparent Monster ‘Air Man’—that Air Man may be a master thief, but on the other hand, he does these sorts of good deeds too. He’s messing around. And he delights in making people gasp in surprise.”

The Million-Yen Necklace

Such strange incidents occurred here and there. Rumors that an invisible being was playing pranks gradually grew louder. The rumors reached the police's ears. Newspaper offices also received a flood of letters. However, neither the police nor the newspapers could determine the perpetrator's true identity. Since it all seemed like a dream, there was simply no way to grasp the situation.

“However, last night, Air Man finally committed a theft—he stole a million-yen necklace. You know Ginza’s Daibodo, right? The famous jewelry store? Last night, after all the customers had left and they were about to close the shutters, the imposing glass display case at the back of the store slid open by itself with a soft whoosh. The most expensive jeweled necklace in the entire shop—the one displayed inside—was yanked out through the glass as if grabbed by something unseen. Then it began floating through the air, drifting lightly.”

The manager had gone to the back. Two clerks had gone outside to close the shutters. Only one young clerk remained in the store. When the necklace began drifting through the air, the clerk finally noticed it. And with an "Ah!", he stood frozen, unable to move a muscle for some time.

The clerk initially thought the necklace might be suspended from the ceiling by an invisible, thin thread. However, the ceiling—solidly plastered and painted white—couldn’t possibly have any gaps through which to hang threads and move them around like that.

No sooner had the necklace seemed possessed by a spirit and begun moving on its own than a chill ran down his spine and he grew terrified. However, when he mustered his courage, approached it, and reached out his hand, the necklace slipped away with a swish, swish, like some elusive fish. Eventually, the necklace—still floating in midair—gradually drew closer to the entrance and, in the blink of an eye, slipped out of the store. The clerk let out a shout and gave chase. The clerks who had been outside joined in and raised a commotion. The manager came rushing out from the back. Passersby gathered around. Yet the necklace was nowhere to be found. The million-yen jewel had left the store entirely on its own.

Immediately, this matter was reported to the police. The officer went to investigate the scene, but the whole affair was like something out of a dream, with nothing concrete to grasp. They considered it might be Air Man's doing—he'd been stirring up public unrest for some time—but without a single clue to go on, there was nothing they could do.

This incident reached newspaper reporters' ears this morning. So while it didn't make the morning edition, the evening paper blared the story in bold headlines. "Go home and take a look." "Unprecedented Bizarre Incident: Air Man Appears in Ginza"—that's what it proclaimed.

At Toyo Newspaper, I came to take charge of this case. I was also the one who wrote the evening edition article. I had been running around like crazy since morning, determined to somehow uncover Air Man's true identity. And luckily, I found that wax-masked guy. I hadn't realized that was Air Man. However, since a wax doll was walking around town, as a newspaper reporter, I couldn't let this slip by. I'd been tailing that guy before you boys even started.

However, that guy peered into the antique shop’s show window. He kept glaring at the Buddha statue in the center without moving—it was then that I first thought, "This guy’s not right." Perhaps the inside of that wax mask was hollow? The thought struck me fleetingly. If this was Air Man, that Buddha statue was in danger. He might strip off his clothes later, become the Transparent Monster, and come to steal it.

Because I thought that way, after you boys started walking away, I entered the antique shop and advised the owner to hide that small metal Buddha statue somewhere. “You probably don’t know this, but that Buddha statue is called a Suiko Buddha—an item of even greater value than the million-yen necklace.” But I finally managed to confirm that guy’s identity. Until now, I could only see something like haze, but today I saw that guy remove his clothes. I saw him remove the wax mask. And I confirmed that the inside was empty.

Moreover, I wasn't the only one who saw it. "There are witnesses—you two." "The three of us saw it with our own six eyes."

“This will make an excellent article! Tomorrow’s paper will dedicate an entire page to this story. Tonight, our photography team will come take your pictures. And tomorrow’s edition will feature your courageous pursuit. It’ll show how we three uncovered Air Man’s true identity.”

“Well then, let’s part ways here for now. We can’t have your families worrying about you. But I’ll be counting on you boys too. If you encounter that wax-masked figure again, make sure to tail him properly. And once you determine where he goes, give me a call. I’ll leave you with my business card.”

The Department Store Phantom

The business card given by the journalist was printed with "Toyo Newspaper, Society Section, Katsuichi Kurokawa." Reporter Kurokawa, when parting with the boys, asked for their addresses and full names and wrote them down in his notebook.

The next day’s Toyo Newspaper, just as Reporter Kurokawa had said, had its society page largely filled with yesterday’s article. It featured a large photo of the two boys, Shimada and Kishita, and provided a detailed report—complete with a map—of everything from their tailing of the wax-masked figure to its disappearance after removing the mask and clothes within the Western-style mansion’s walls.

That day, all over Tokyo, wherever people went, wherever crowds gathered, terrifying rumors of Air Man dominated every conversation.

Something that science could not explain had occurred. A completely invisible, transparent human was hiding somewhere in Tokyo. Since he was like air itself, there wasn’t a moment they could let their guard down. Even as people gathered like that, whispering rumors, Air Man might be right beside them, smirking as he eavesdropped.

Jewelers all over Tokyo installed locks on their glass cases and show windows. In the show windows of art shops and antique stores, expensive items had disappeared from view. Everyone had hidden them away somewhere.

The ones who had the most trouble were the banks. This was because they couldn’t tell when that invisible being might slip in. And because the bundles of bills placed on the cashiers’ desks might be swiftly snatched away. A million yen in thousand-yen bills is compact enough to be held in one hand. If Air Man were to hold it with both hands, he could carry away tens of millions of yen.

However, after that newspaper article came out, about a week went by without incident. People began to think, “Wasn’t it all a lie?” “There’s no way someone as transparent as air could exist. The Toyo Newspaper reporter and those two boys must’ve been tricked by a fox spirit. Otherwise,” they reasoned, “they must’ve made it up to boost their readership.”

However, that was not the case. Air Man next suddenly appeared in a place no one could have ever imagined.

It was a Sunday.

Kishita went to the Nihonbashi department store with his mother. He was accompanying his mother while she was purchasing clothing fabric. Although Kishita didn’t find fabric particularly interesting, he had the ulterior motive of dragging his mother to the book department to beg for books.

Because they had left home early, when Kishita and his mother arrived at the department store, the main entrance had just been opened. The spacious store interior still had only a sparse scattering of figures here and there. They were also able to board the elevator without any trouble. They got off on the third floor and hurried to the fabric section. At the center of display stands draped with woolen fabrics of various colors like cascading waterfalls, a round platform resembling a stage had been constructed. Upon it were beautifully arranged mannequins of men, women, and children dressed in diverse Western-style clothing. The mannequins had high noses and large eyes, making them look just like Westerners, but their fox-colored skin meant they were undoubtedly Japanese.

Around the mannequin platform, there were still only five or six customers. Kishita and his mother walked slowly around the circular platform while observing the colors and shapes of the clothes worn by the mannequins. Since looking at clothes held no interest for him, Kishita had been staring solely at the mannequins' faces when he noticed something that made him gasp. Among the mannequins, there was one with a completely different face. While all the others had the tawny complexions of Japanese faces, that single one alone had the face of a Western man—pale white skin with a faint reddish tinge. Moreover, unlike the other mannequins, it was made of translucent wax.

Kishita involuntarily stopped in his tracks and fixedly stared at that mannequin. It was wearing a well-tailored tailcoat. The clothing was completely different. However, that face—oh—was exactly the same. It was exactly like that wax doll that had been peering into the antique shop’s show window. Kishita’s eyes flew wide open, perfectly round, looking ready to pop out of their sockets at any moment.

A clerk in a suit happened to pass by Kishita. The boy involuntarily grabbed the man’s sleeve. The clerk stopped and looked at the boy’s face, but upon noticing those perfectly round eyes, he started and began glancing around at the mannequins.

“Mr., that wax doll that looks like a Westerner—right? Why doesn’t it have any eyes? It’s got no eyes—just black holes?”

Kishita said in a whisper. When the clerk looked at the doll, he let out a small cry—"Ah!" This eyeless wax doll hadn’t been there until yesterday. Because this department store wasn’t supposed to have any real wax dolls at all.

The clerk beckoned to another clerk who was across from him. And the two clerks were whispering about something, but before long, one clerk climbed onto the stage-like platform and tried to approach the doll. However, the clerk could not advance a single step further and stood frozen in place, as if he himself had turned into a doll. This was because the wax doll wearing a tailcoat had moved.

A cry of "Ah!", a clattering noise—two female dolls fell with a loud crash. The wax doll started running. And the doll that had been blocking its path was knocked down. The wax doll leapt down from the platform with terrifying force, fluttered the tail of its tailcoat, dashed past Kishita, and ran off into the distance. From among the customers gathered there came a collective cry. The two clerks finally regained their composure and, letting out an incomprehensible shout, chased after the doll.

The monster ran down the corridor at tremendous speed, veering right and left. There was no one to stop it. When people caught even a glimpse of the wax doll's face, overwhelmed by its sheer horror, everyone would end up fleeing.

The monster ran like a madman until vanishing into the narrow staff-only staircase. The pursuing clerks had grown to seven or eight. They jostled down the cramped stairs, each shouting something as they descended. Sliding down three flights—second floor, first floor, basement—the monster raced along a straight corridor toward the warehouse. A single door stood ahead. It had no choice but to open it. Behind pressed a throng of clerks. The monster threw open the door and plunged inside.

“Got him! He’s a rat in a trap!”

The clerk who had been running at the front—a powerfully built man—shouted. Then he lunged at the door, slammed it shut with a bang, and leaned against it to prevent it from being pushed open from the other side.

“It’s safe now. The entrance here’s the only way in or out—all the windows have iron bars. He’s a rat in a trap now. Someone, hurry and call the police!” “Alright, I’ll go make the call. Don’t let him get away!”

One of the clerks ran off. The remaining people gathered in front of the door and formed a strict security line.

The Wax-Masked Monster had unfortunately leapt into a dead-end room with no exit. Even Air Man couldn’t escape through the gaps in the window’s iron bars. Because he wasn’t a ghost. Even though he couldn’t be seen，he still had a physical body.

Whirlwind After a short while, one of the clerks returned with three detectives in suits. They were detectives who had been patrolling the department store at that very moment. The three detectives pushed their way through the clerks and approached the entrance door. Then, taking up a guarded stance, they flung open the door.

And then, at that very moment, something truly horrifying was happening inside the room.

Though it was called a warehouse, after all the goods had been removed, it stood completely empty—hollow and bare, like an abandoned room. In the corner, only two or three large wooden crates lay scattered about—there was nothing else. A mouse-gray concrete wall. A mouse-gray concrete floor. Since the light only streamed in through the high, small iron-barred window, the vast empty room was dim as twilight.

The first thing that caught the detectives' eyes was a human head flying through the air. A human head alone fell to the floor with a whoosh as if thrown, swaying gently.

The detective, caught off guard, started at first glance but realized upon closer inspection that it was the wax doll's head. Beside it lay a tailcoat, shirt, trousers, shoes and other garments scattered haphazardly. The monster itself was nowhere to be seen - having stripped off every article of clothing to become fully transparent. Last of all came the wax mask it had been wearing, now discarded like the rest.

The three detectives instantly grasped the situation and abruptly stepped into the room. Though invisible to sight, they meant to capture the monster through tactile searching. Splitting into three directions—right, left, and center—they advanced with arms spread wide. They combed every inch of the room without exception, yet their hands encountered nothing tangible. Since their adversary could see them plainly, this game of tag proved utterly one-sided. They had been deftly evaded by the monster.

Then, at that moment, a startled cry of “Agh!” came from outside the door. Startled, they turned around to find a young clerk sitting on his backside in the corridor. “That’s him! That guy shoved me!” Still sitting where he had fallen, his face deathly pale, he was pointing toward the staircase behind him. This meant that the monster had shoved him aside and fled toward the staircase.

People suddenly started to rush in that direction when another scream of "Agh!" rang out, and a man came tumbling down the dimly lit staircase. He had been shoved down when passing by the Transparent Monster on the staircase. That man was a laborer who had brought goods from the wholesaler.

“It was just like a whirlwind! “While I was going down the stairs, a gust of wind came swirling up from below with a whoosh and hit me square in the chest. “The force was incredible. “I lost my footing and tumbled all the way down.”

The laborer later explained it in that manner.

And then, the Transparent Monster fled to who knows where. Once it emerged onto the staircase and blended into the crowd, there was nothing more to be done. It was inside the vast department store. Even a visible human would have been difficult enough to find—let alone searching for an invisible monster. Such a thing was beyond anyone's imagination.

Upon checking later, it was discovered that nothing had been stolen from places like the department store’s jewelry section. Of course, the monster had likely intended to disguise itself as a doll and commit theft, but before achieving that objective, it was discovered by Kishita.

Now, the department store commotion had ended without any particular incident, but the Transparent Monster remained hidden somewhere in Tokyo. And now, it was targeting its next prey. What on earth could that next target have been? Strangely enough, it was a certain item inside the house of Shimada Ichiro—the boy who had first discovered the monster. The Transparent Monster would set its sights on this prize and manifest near young Shimada.

The story now finally enters its main plot.

Laughing Shadow

A few days after the department store incident, one evening, the boy Shimada was wandering aimlessly around his home’s garden. The sky hung heavily overcast, making it an unusually warm day for early spring.

Shimada-kun’s father had been an extremely wealthy man before the war. Though he was now employed at a bank, their house alone remained a grand structure from former days with a spacious garden. Before the Japanese-style room stretched an expanse of lawn, beyond which stood an artificial hill where trees grew thick as a forest. Shimada-kun had been teasing chickens by the backyard coop when he grew bored and wandered over to the garden lawn. The Japanese-style room stood with its glass doors firmly shut, silent and empty of any human presence.

As he rounded the building's corner and suddenly emerged onto the lawn, Shimada-kun froze in his tracks. For something truly bizarre was unfolding on the grass.

Shimada-kun liked skating and owned a set of roller skates. He hadn’t used them for some time and had stored them under the veranda of the Japanese-style room, but now, when he looked, those roller skates were lined up in the middle of the lawn. But that wasn’t all. They were moving on their own. Just as a human would wear them on feet, they were advancing alternately.

Shimada-kun wondered if he was dreaming. But it was not a dream. He remembered everything that had happened since returning from school. He couldn’t have fallen asleep.

“Oh! That’s it,” he thought. “Maybe…” Shimada-kun felt a chill run down his spine as if someone had poured cold water down his back. He remembered the Transparent Monster. He realized this was exactly how it would look if wearing roller skates while moving. Though they didn’t glide like on a skating rink over grass, the skates gradually moved away from the veranda of the Japanese-style room and approached the cluster of yatsude trees growing thickly at the base of the artificial hill.

“Mom! Quick—someone, hurry and come…!”

Shimada-kun finally found his voice. And he had been shouting things that would later seem embarrassing when he thought back on them.

However, at that moment, the roller skates were already plunging into the thicket of yatsude plants. Then, the yatsude leaves rustled noisily, moving as if someone were pushing through them and plunging forward. Behind the yatsude plants, large and small laurel fig trees grew thickly, creating a darkness like that of a forest.

Before long, hearing Shimada-kun’s scream, his mother and the maid Take came running. His father had not yet returned from the bank.

Then there was a great commotion—they called over the neighbor, notified the police, and searched the entire garden—but found nothing. Only the roller skates lay scattered deep within the thicket of yatsude plants. The monster must have removed its skates there and escaped over the wall from behind the artificial hill.

Still, why would the Transparent Monster wear roller skates and walk around? Even after checking, nothing seemed to have been stolen. As evidenced by how Air Man had even helped the shoeshine boy—showing he did good deeds at times despite being a mischievous sort—there seemed to be no reason for him to sneak into Shimada-kun’s garden and skate on a lawn that wasn’t even a skating rink. There must have been some reason behind this. Perhaps knowing that Shimada-kun had seen its true form at some point, wasn’t it trying to torment him?

Then, late at night the following day, yet another terrifying incident occurred.

Shimada-kun had been sleeping alone in his six-mat room when he thought he heard some strange noise and abruptly opened his eyes in the dead of night. Facing the backyard stood a window with tightly closed frosted-glass shoji screens. Because of the wooden lattice attached outside, the storm shutters had been left open. The light from a distant garden lamp shone through the frosted glass, and there—when he looked—a faint black human shadow was projected upon it.

The figure appeared to be standing slightly away from the window, its upper body projected at roughly twice the size of an ordinary human’s. Strangely, it seemed to wear no clothing—the contours of naked flesh stood plainly visible. Turned sideways, its tangled hair, sunken eye sockets, high nose, and parted lips below were all magnified twofold in stark clarity. Though faint and indistinct overall, every feature remained sharply defined.

Shimada-kun was so terrified that his breath caught. He could clearly feel his heart pounding thump-thump in his chest. He couldn’t even make a sound. As if drawn by some magical force, he could only stare fixedly at that shadow. “Heh heh heh…” It was a chilling voice that made one’s blood run cold. It was the shadow that laughed. The shadow's enormous mouth had split open all the way to its ears, gaping wide and flapping open and shut as it laughed in a low voice.

Shimada-kun could no longer endure it. Anger welled up from the pit of his stomach. A desperate courage surged forth within him. He abruptly sat up on his futon,

“Who’s there?” he shouted. Then, in one leap, he rushed to the window and suddenly slid open the glass shoji. He had steeled himself to come face-to-face with the man. He had steeled himself to meet the man’s gaze. And he had intended to muster every ounce of his voice and scold him.

But what on earth had happened? Outside the opened window—there was no one there! Since it was a coarse wooden lattice wide enough to put his face through, he stuck his face out and looked around, but there was no sign of anyone anywhere. Until he opened the shoji, the shadow had been projected there. However, when he opened it, the human who was the shadow’s source had vanished as if erased.

“Ichiro, what’s wrong?”

The noise and scream had roused Father, who now came out. Ichiro was Shimada's given name. "There was a weird guy standing right here just now. But when I opened the shoji, there was no one there. Father, it might be that guy again." At the mention of "that guy," he understood. Of course, this referred to the Transparent Monster. Hearing this, a serious expression crossed Father's face.

Then there was another uproar. The entire household woke up, turned on every single room's light, and even grabbed flashlights and clubs to begin searching the backyard. However, there was no sign of anyone anywhere. Because the garden soil was dry, not even any footprints could be found.

Here yet another mystery had been added - that this transparent air-like monster cast a shadow. However when they later considered it properly, this shadow wasn't pitch black like ordinary shadows but rather a hazy semi-transparent projection of sorts. Though invisible to human eyes, the monster apparently couldn't conceal its shadow - that indistinct form might have been how its presence became manifest.

Pearl Tower

The very next day, when Shimada-kun met Kishita-kun at school, he immediately told him about last night's events.

“It’s really getting strange, isn’t it? That guy’s definitely targeting your house.” “Are you saying he wants to get me into some terrible trouble?” “No, if that were true, he’d target me first. Thanks to me, that guy had a rough time at the department store, remember? That’s not it. There’s definitely something he wants at your house.” “Hmm, now that you mention it, Father did say something like that too. But he won’t tell me anything. It seems like there’s something at my house he’s after.”

“Then that’s definitely it.” “Hey—you! Let’s tell Mr. Kurokawa about this!” “Mr. Kurokawa from the Eastern News Agency!” “He might come up with something good!”

“Ah, that’s right! That’s a good idea.”

Thereupon, the two explained the situation to their teacher, used the school's telephone to summon reporter Kurokawa, and briefly informed him of everything that had happened so far.

“Well then, I’ll come by your house once. This evening, around the time your father gets home. And we’ll hear the full story.”

After confirming the directions to Shimada-kun’s house, Reporter Kurokawa hung up the phone.

That evening, Reporter Kurokawa came to visit Shimada-kun’s house as promised. Since Father had also just returned home, they were promptly shown to the Western-style parlor, where Father and Ichiro-kun took turns recounting the events from two days prior.

“Hmm, so it did manifest a shadow after all.” “Speaking of shadows, I had quite an ordeal with that thing’s shadow myself.”

Reporter Kurokawa, with evident irritation, proceeded to recount the following.

“It happened two or three days ago. “It was a fine day. “I was walking through Yashikimachi in Minato Ward on company business when... “It was a desolate place with long concrete walls continuing along both sides. “It was already evening, and the red sunlight was fully illuminating the concrete wall on the right side, casting the shadow of me walking there.”

“But then when I suddenly noticed, that shadow had somehow turned into two, hadn’t it? ‘Huh?’ I thought as I looked around, but there was no one there. Just me—a single person—with two shadows. Astigmatism makes things appear double, but there’s no way I’d suddenly develop it. Even with astigmatism, you don’t see double shadows like that unless it’s extremely severe.”

“However, when I looked closely, one shadow wore neither hat nor clothes.” “That explains its naked appearance.” “Naturally, it couldn’t be my shadow.” “Moreover, compared to mine, this shadow appeared hazy and indistinct.” “Like frosted glass casting its image on a wall.” I scanned my surroundings once more. “Still no one there.” Yet the shadow persisted, mimicking my movements. “My fear mounting, I quickened my pace.” It matched my speed. “When I halted, it halted too.”

“I mustered my courage and shouted, ‘Who’s there?!’ Then from nowhere came this repulsive laughter—‘Ehehehehehehe!’” “It was the kind of laugh that makes your blood run cold.”

When I stopped moving, its shadow circled around to face me. In other words, the two shadows had come face to face. "And then the opponent's shadow suddenly spread both arms and lunged at my shadow." "No, it wasn't just the shadow." "An invisible hand touched my body." It was a truly creepy feeling. "I shuddered and leaped back." "Then I pushed that invisible thing with all my strength and desperately ran away." "I was completely out of my mind by then." "After running a full two hundred meters and reaching a busy part of town, my shadow finally became just one again." "The invisible thing had gone off somewhere."

“Air Man holds a grudge against me, you know. However, he only plays pranks. He doesn’t seem to carry pistols or daggers. Though you may be to blame, he’s a somewhat likable fellow. He might just be playing pranks on you too, Shimada-kun.”

"I wish that were all, but I'm afraid there's more to it."

Shimada's father, appearing worried, lowered his voice and said.

"So, do you have any clue about its motives?" "There's just one possibility." "I too lost many things after the war, but there's one item worth calling my family treasure that I've kept carefully preserved."

“Hmm, so you mean that guy is targeting it, then?” “So, what exactly is that thing?”

“Do you know of something called the Pearl Tower? It’s a five-storied pagoda about twenty centimeters tall, completely covered in pearls.” “A jeweled tower crafted from hundreds upon hundreds of the finest pearls.” “This Pearl Tower was exhibited at the Great Taisho Exhibition by the Pearl King of Mie Prefecture, and my late father purchased it.” “At that time, the price was 100,000 yen.” “In today’s terms, that would be close to thirty million yen.” “That invisible guy supposedly stole a necklace from jewelers, but this Pearl Tower is worth dozens of times more than that necklace.” “I think he knows about it and has his sights set on it.”

“Where is the Pearl Tower kept?”

“I’ve hidden it in a place no one knows. While the public may know that I possess the Pearl Tower, no one besides my wife and I knows where it’s located. Ichiro doesn’t know either.” “Inside this house?”

“That’s correct. Since I need to rely on your assistance in various ways, I’ll be frank with you: it’s actually kept in a vault within a basement converted from an air raid shelter.” “An air raid shelter, you say? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“However, that’s not the case.” “Even though it’s called an air raid shelter, it’s a sturdy structure made of thick concrete.” “During the war, it could also be entered from the garden, but now that entrance has been sealed with concrete and covered with soil.” “Therefore, there’s only one entrance—the one in my Western-style study.”

The floor of the study had a trapdoor. "Moreover, since it's beneath the carpet, no one but me would even know where the trapdoor is located." When you opened that trapdoor and entered beneath the floor, there was another thick iron door. "It won't open unless it's with the special key I have." When you went through there and descended the stairs, there was a concrete room about four tatami mats in size, with a safe placed at the center. "The safe also requires a special key." "Moreover, since it's a combination lock, even if you have the key, you can't open it without knowing the combination."

“When I thought it was being targeted, I considered entrusting it to a bank vault. Of course, there’s no question a bank would be safer. But transporting it there would be risky. With an invisible opponent like this, we can’t afford any carelessness. I still think it’s best to leave it in the basement as-is.”

“I see. With security that rigorous, it should be safe. You mustn’t open the trapdoor in your study for now. Though invisible to the eye, he’s no ghost—he has a physical form. As long as that entrance stays shut, he can’t get in. But he’s a cunning one—there’s no telling what schemes he might cook up. We must take care not to fall carelessly into his trap.”

When their conversation reached this point, somewhere there came a faint *clunk*. Reporter Kurokawa jolted as if startled, his face taking on a terrifying expression, then suddenly rose from his chair and lunged toward the open door. He looked as if he'd gone mad. However, by the time he reached the entrance, the door had already slammed shut with a loud crash, moving as if on its own.

At that moment, Reporter Kurokawa shouted "Damn it!" and staggered backward unsteadily as if someone had shoved him, yet for some reason he kept both hands stretched forward, still trying to grasp at something.

When he looked up, a white sheet of paper came fluttering down through the air before his eyes. Reporter Kurokawa snatched it up with both hands before it could land on the floor and stared fixedly at it, then muttered "Damn it" again as he returned to the table and placed the scrap of paper before Shimada's father. On it, written in large pencil letters, was the following:

I'll come take what you're discussing now tomorrow night. I'll set the time for nine o'clock. Air Man

Kurokawa, thank you for giving me such a wonderful name!

Basement

Shimada Ichiro, his father, and Reporter Kurokawa read the terrifying message on that scrap of paper and could only exchange pale-faced glances. Night had fallen completely now, leaving the room pitch-dark. The three had even forgotten to switch on the lights.

“Gasp!”

Suddenly, Shimada the boy clung to his father’s arm. His eyeballs were wide open, as if about to pop out of their sockets, staring fixedly at one corner of the room. His father and Reporter Kurokawa, startled, looked in that direction.

What Shimada was staring at was the tightly shut glass window. It was a Western-style sash window fitted with frosted glass, and on that frosted glass, a human shadow was dimly reflected. An enormous profile - roughly twice the size of an actual person - had its mouth open in a crescent shape. “Heh heh heh heh…”

That hoarse, spine-chilling laughter could faintly be heard. Each time it laughed, the shadow’s lips slackly quivered. It was not an ordinary human shadow. It was the Transparent Monster’s characteristic faint, ghost-like shadow. Reporter Kurokawa was indeed brave. When he saw this, he shouted “Hah!” and lunged at the window with the speed of a flying bird. And when he grabbed the sash window, it suddenly swung open with a clatter. However, outside the window, there was no sign of anyone. There was no way it could be seen.

“Heh heh…” came the hoarse chuckle.

Only that unsettling laughter drifted from somewhere in the dark garden. Soon, the laughter ceased, and for a while there was complete silence—then suddenly, “Don’t forget tomorrow night at nine o’clock.” The hoarse voice sounded as if raining down from heaven. It was the first time the Transparent Monster had spoken. What an eerie, unsettling voice it was. The voice—drawn-out, faltering speech like a foreigner speaking Japanese, strangely hoarse—when they heard it, the two adults and one boy in the room stood frozen as if under a spell, utterly unable to move.

“Mr.Kurokawa！You must close the window！Hurry！Hurry！”

Shimada whispered to Reporter Kurokawa. Otherwise, the Transparent Monster might come through the window. Even if it entered, nobody would notice. Reporter Kurokawa, apparently convinced, hurriedly slammed the glass window shut with a bang. Then once more, That hoarse laughter—Heh heh heh…—reached them from beyond the windowpane, growing fainter as if receding into the distance until it disappeared completely.

“Does he know about the basement’s secret entrance?” Shimada’s father said with a pale face, looking worried.

“There’s a hidden door under the carpet in your study, correct? Have you opened it recently?”

Reporter Kurokawa inquired.

“Just four or five days ago, I went down to the basement to verify whether the Pearl Tower remained secure.” “About once a month, I open the vault to confirm its contents.” “Hmm... Suppose that fellow had trailed you into the basement when you went down four or five days ago...”

“What? What did you say?”

Mr. Shimada stared at Reporter Kurokawa with a start. When he considered what had been pointed out—since their adversary was, after all, an invisible being—there was no guarantee such a thing hadn't happened. The moment he thought the theft might have already occurred at that earlier time rather than "tomorrow at nine o'clock," Mr. Shimada suddenly became anxious.

“Let’s check. You come along too. Ichiro, you come as well. With three of us here, even if that guy tries to sneak in, preventing him would be no trouble at all.” “That’s right. It might be best to verify it once.” The three hurried into the study, first locking the door from the inside and securing all windows with latches. This way, the Transparent Monster couldn’t enter.

When the three of them entered the study, the monster might have already taken the initiative and hidden inside. However, there was a means to prevent that. Mr. Shimada moved the chair aside, rolled up the carpet laid on the floor, gripped the floorboard, and lifted it with a heave. The floor had been cut out into a square, forming a trapdoor. Mr. Shimada opened it just slightly, creating a gap barely large enough for a person to enter.

“Alright, you two, enter through this gap. “I’ll go in after you and close it. “That way, even if that guy’s right beside us, we’ll be safe. “There’s no way it could slip in without touching us.”

Following those instructions, the three of them entered beneath the floorboards. When the trapdoor was lowered, everything plunged into darkness—but then Mr. Shimada pressed a switch installed beneath the floorboards and turned on an electric light. What they saw was a box-like space about one meter square, surrounded by concrete walls. The floor beneath their feet was also concrete, with an iron plate about sixty centimeters square lying in one corner. That iron plate marked the entrance to the deep basement.

The box-like space became completely full when the three of them entered, so narrow and cramped that they had to duck their heads to avoid bumping them. Mr. Shimada secured the ceiling's trapdoor from the inside while,

“How about this? With this setup, we’ll be perfectly safe. Since we’re packed tight in here, even the Transparent Monster won’t find any space to slip in. Once we’ve secured this position, we’ll open the iron door beneath our feet.”

he declared proudly. Then, after opening the iron door and the three of them entering, he locked it again from below.

There was a narrow concrete staircase barely wide enough for one person to pass through. Descending about six steps brought them before the vault. It was a basement about four tatami mats in size, surrounded by thick concrete on all sides. Of course, there was an electric light on the ceiling there as well. “Alright, here we are. Mr. Kurokawa, even with all this caution, do you think that guy managed to come in with us?”

Mr. Shimada said as he took out the vault key from his pocket.

“No—with this setup we’re safe. Even the Transparent Monster has a physical body after all—there’s absolutely no way it could slip through here. You can rest assured now.”

Reporter Kurokawa finally smiled as he answered. Mr. Shimada spun the vault’s dial multiple times, aligned the code letters, and then opened its door with a key. “Ah! It’s here. It’s unharmed. This is the Pearl Tower.”

A radiant smile appeared on Mr. Shimada’s face. When they looked, there in the center of the vault stood a slender glass case, inside which a charming five-storied tower made of beautiful pearl beads was gleaming. “Hmm, this is splendid. This is the first time I’ve ever seen something so beautiful.” Reporter Kurokawa let out an involuntary sigh as he said this.

“With something like this, it’s only natural that guy would target it.” “But we’re safe now.” “Let’s notify the police immediately, do everything possible, and protect this treasure.”

"That’s right. We have to notify the police... This put my mind at ease too." Mr. Shimada closed the vault lid there, locked it with a key, and spun the dial round and round.

Afterward, the three returned to the original study, and needless to say, when exiting the basement as well, they locked the iron door with the same strict caution as before.

9:00 PM

And then, by the next day at 9:00 PM—the very hour the Transparent Monster had promised—various events had occurred. However, to avoid tedium, I shall record only the barest outline here. When they notified the police, officers were stationed around Shimada Ichiro’s house that very night. The following day, Inspector Nakamura—chief of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police’s investigation division—visited the Shimada residence, spoke with his father, and left. As dusk fell, Inspector Nakamura returned with three detectives: he stationed one detective at the study’s hidden door, ordered the remaining two to keep patrolling outside the house, and positioned himself before the basement vault.

On top of that, it was finally decided that the Boy Detectives Club would begin their activities. The fact that the Transparent Monster was targeting Shimada’s house had become widely known among his school friends. Then, it turned out there was a Boy Detectives Club member at the same school who reported this to Leader Kobayashi. Leader Kobayashi was none other than the famous young assistant of the great detective Akechi Kogoro. As for this Boy Detectives Club led by young Kobayashi, readers who have read books such as *The Boy Detectives Club* and *Dr. Monster* are surely well acquainted with them.

When Leader Kobayashi heard this, he met with Shimada and Kishita to discuss plans, selected five club members living near Shimada's house, and decided that young Kobayashi would lead these five in serving as lookouts for the Transparent Monster.

Even calling it surveillance, their opponent was an invisible monster, so merely keeping watch wouldn’t accomplish anything. So, Leader Kobayashi conceived an ingenious plan. The scheme required both himself and the five members to carry individual flashlights, then after nightfall divide into three pairs of two to patrol around Shimada-kun’s residence and garden while sweeping their flashlight beams across the grounds.

Why were they doing such a thing? The Transparent Monster was invisible to the eye, but it did have a shadow. As they swung their flashlights around here and there, if a strange shadow appeared within that light, that would be proof the monster was there. By using that shadow to pinpoint its location, they would then suddenly pounce—that was the plan.

When Kobayashi-kun explained this to Inspector Nakamura, the inspector was so impressed that he even recommended the same method to his own detective subordinates. Thus, when night fell around the Shimada residence, flashlight beams flickered here and there, creating a scene as beautiful as it was eerie—like fireflies darting about.

Now, this was the basement. The time was ten minutes to nine. Four chairs were arranged around the vault, and for over an hour already, Shimada Ichiro, his father, reporter Kurokawa, and Inspector Nakamura had been staring unwaveringly at the vault door.

When the four entered here, they took every possible precaution just as they had the previous night to ensure there was absolutely no opening for the monster to slip in. Therefore, there was absolutely no way the monster could be in this basement. Moreover, the entrance’s double doors were locked from the inside, making it impossible for the monster to enter afterward. “Perhaps because I’ve never encountered that thing myself,” said Inspector Nakamura, “I find it somewhat hard to grasp why everyone here is so afraid.” “With all these precautions, we should be perfectly safe now.” “This business of it coming at nine o’clock is nothing but a disruptive bluff.”

Inspector Nakamura, in his suit, took out a cigarette box from his pocket and said. Then, Reporter Kurokawa—

“No, that thing is like some demonic creature. We must never let our guard down. There’s no guarantee that right before our eyes, the vault door won’t swish open smoothly all by itself.”

“Ha ha ha… That’s perfectly safe. Kobayashi came up with a brilliant idea. That guy has a shadow. We just need to watch out for its shadow. In this basement, the electric light is on. If that guy tries to get in, his shadow should show up somewhere.” “But Inspector, there are times when that guy doesn’t have a shadow either. Once, when that guy helped a shoeshine boy, I was there and saw it—but even as he grappled with the delinquent youth, his shadow didn’t appear at all. On the ground, there was only the shadow of the delinquent youth struggling all by himself. Could it be that that guy has mastered some kind of magic to cast a shadow only when he wants to scare someone?”

“Ha ha ha… Kurokawa, you almost sound like you respect that guy.”

Inspector Nakamura laughed as he said this, but before his laughter had faded, somewhere there came a strange clunk.

The four gasped and exchanged glances. The room fell deathly silent for a while, but then Shimada Ichiro peered at his father’s wristwatch and inadvertently blurted out—

“Father, it’s one minute to nine.” Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa each checked their own watches. It was indeed one minute before nine. The three of them had made sure to synchronize their watches with the radio beforehand. No one spoke. Inspector Nakamura, too, now wore a serious expression. The silence was such that the sound of three watches ticking the seconds could be heard distinctly. Ten seconds, twenty seconds—in the blink of an eye, time pressed onward. Eight eyes were glaring at the vault door as if to bore into it.

As Shimada Ichiro stared fixedly like that, he felt as though a hazy human figure was standing beside the vault.

Thinking "Huh?", he looked again, but there was nothing to be seen. Had it been his imagination? Or was it…?

At that moment, once again, somewhere there came a faint clunk. The four faces fixed on the vault grew pale. Shimada-kun let out a startled cry and, though he suddenly wanted to bolt away, barely managed to hold his ground. He was overcome by an indescribably strange sensation—as if his heart might leap up into his throat at any moment.

“Bwahahaha…”

Suddenly, booming laughter resounded throughout the room. Inspector Nakamura stood up from his chair and was laughing.

“Gentlemen, nine o’clock has passed.” “In twenty more seconds, it’ll be past the one-minute mark.” “Even as I say this, look—it’s nine o’clock and one minute.” “Mr. Kurokawa, what do you think?” “That guy didn’t keep his promise.” “The vault is undamaged.” “That piece of paper was nothing but an empty threat.”

Inspector Nakamura declared with evident delight.

“Wait a moment. Then what were those two strange sounds we heard? Mr. Shimada, why don’t you check inside the vault just to be certain?”

Without needing to be told by Reporter Kurokawa, Shimada-kun’s father stood up and approached the vault. Then he turned the dial, inserted the key, and opened the door.

The moment he opened it and peered inside, Mr. Shimada let out an "Ah!" and stood frozen in place. "What's wrong?"

Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa ran up to its side. “Ah! The Pearl Tower’s gone!”

Shimada Ichiro clung to his father and cried out. Inside the vault, only an empty glass case remained. Then, at that very moment,

“Heh heh heh….” That vile, utterly repulsive laughter came echoing from nowhere. Of course—it was inside the basement. He was here somewhere. The four, as if their minds had shattered, frantically scanned their surroundings. Yet not a single human shadow remained anywhere.

“I get it! That guy stole it just now—when Mr. Shimada opened the vault, he slipped his hand in from the side. I saw a faint white figure!” Reporter Kurokawa shouted wildly. Yet if this were true, even if invisible, the stolen Pearl Tower should have been floating somewhere in the room—under chairs, behind the vault, or midair. But no matter how they strained their eyes, there was no trace of it anywhere.

The three adults quickly exchanged glances, spread their arms wide, and darted around the room searching for the invisible being. However, there was nothing their hands could touch.

Inspector Nakamura ran up the concrete stairs and strained his ears at the iron door below the entrance. Then, once again, that unpleasant laughter could faintly be heard.

“Oh! It’s outside the iron door. That guy’s out there!”

Indeed, it was a voice from outside. The laughter that had clearly been heard inside earlier was now coming from outside, having passed straight through the locked iron door before anyone realized. So, could it be that the Transparent Monster could even transform its entire body freely, like smoke or a ghost? “Do you understand? “I… I always keep my promises…” It was a faint voice. From outside the iron door, they could hear the Transparent Monster saying such things in that halting voice.

Then, some time after the four had exited the basement, Kobayashi came running up breathlessly. And then, suddenly, he made this report.

“We’ve caught a suspicious person,” Kobayashi reported breathlessly. “Outside the hedge fence—a man who looked like a vagrant was crouching there, shivering violently. When we questioned him, he told us something terrifying. We can’t tell if it’s true or not. But whatever he saw must have been horrifying—he’s still trembling uncontrollably. Should we bring him here?”

When Inspector Nakamura heard that, he immediately ordered him to be brought. Just who had the Boy Detectives Club captured? And what terrifying thing had this vagrant seen?

The Head-Collecting Gentleman Following Inspector Nakamura’s orders, Kobayashi immediately turned back and brought over the young vagrant—who was being held by both arms by two Boy Detectives Club members.

He was a twenty-four or twenty-five-year-old vagrant who looked utterly filthy. He wore soiled khaki-colored clothes, clutched a tattered old soft hat in his hand, and his bare feet were caked in mud. His tangled, overgrown hair framed a sallow, gaunt face where only his eyes burned with a fierce glare.

Inspector Nakamura had the man sit in a chair and gently asked him to tell them in detail what he had seen. Thereupon, the vagrant youth timidly began the following terrifying tale.

That night, while wandering from town to town in search of shelter, the vagrant youth happened to pass by the hedge surrounding the Shimada residence. Reflecting on it now, this had occurred right after the Transparent Monster stole the Pearl Tower from the basement vault. But in that moment, the youth noticed something squirming within the shadowy garden beyond the hedge. He stopped and peered through a gap in the hedge.

The youth's eyes had become accustomed to darkness from walking only in dim places. Moreover, in the far part of the garden, an electric night light was on, and its faint light dimly illuminated that area. When he strained his eyes, he saw strange objects scattered in a clump of grass beneath a single standing tree. A mouse-gray overcoat, a dark Western-style suit, a white shirt and underpants, a mouse-gray soft hat, and even a pair of shoes were all neatly arranged there. That alone was unremarkable, but among those garments lay something truly horrifying. A pale, round thing. And it had tangled hair growing all over it.

At first, the youth couldn't make out what it was at all, but as he kept looking closely, he came to realize that the round thing had eyes, a nose, and a mouth. It was indeed a human head. The youth, overwhelmed by terror, let out a shriek and was about to bolt. With a human head lying there in the grass clump, anyone would have been startled. As though he'd stumbled upon a murder scene, an icy chill ran down his spine.

However, at that very moment, something even more bizarre occurred—something so strange that it made the youth, who had been about to flee, stop dead in his tracks. The youth found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the moving thing, as if bewitched by magic.

That’s right. It was indeed moving. Not the severed head. It was the suit’s trousers. The black trousers rose smoothly from the ground as if lifted by something, twisting and bending—then suddenly snapped upright all on their own. In other words, they were standing on two legs in exactly the shape of a human wearing trousers. They weren’t just standing there. They began walking all around.

The youth nearly let out a shriek again. However, thinking that if he made a sound he might meet some terrible fate, he barely managed to suppress it. As he continued watching, sweating oily sweat, this time a white shirt fluttered up into the air and, wriggling about, took on a shape as if a human were wearing it. Then, next, the white dress shirt fluttered and again took on the form of a human wearing it. In other words, it was as though an invisible human had put on trousers, a shirt, and a dress shirt.

The vagrant youth wondered if he was being tricked by a fox spirit or trapped in some terrible nightmare—otherwise, such an absurd thing couldn't have happened at all. The invisible being then donned a jacket, shoes, and gloves. He had fully transformed into a well-dressed gentleman. Yet one crucial element remained absent. There was no head.

“Everyone, have you ever seen a person with nothing above the shoulders—a headless human?” “I’d never seen anything like it in my life, but let me tell you, that was one strange sight.” The youth said these things to Inspector Nakamura and the others in a thoroughly frightened manner. But then something even stranger happened. As I mentioned earlier, only a human head lay rolling on the ground. The headless suited man bent down and picked up that head from the earth. Both hands lifted the pale head. “Wait—so that thing lying there was someone’s head?” As the youth was having this bizarre thought, the headless man raised the head he held in both hands smoothly upward and perched it neatly atop his own shoulders. To his astonishment, the head stuck there and wouldn’t come off. The headless man now had a head attached. He was a complete human being.

In a dreamlike daze, the youth remained crouched outside the hedge, utterly unable to move, when suddenly the suited gentleman—now complete with a head—donned an overcoat and soft hat and began approaching directly toward him. The youth was utterly petrified. He shrank down and could only tremble uncontrollably.

However, that monster did not approach the youth. The monster came to a halt inside the hedge and looked all around, but upon finding a torn section of the hedge nearby, he rustled through it with a loud noise and emerged outside. Then, after slowly looking around once more, he headed off into the dark town. The youth fortunately managed to avoid being discovered.

When the vagrant youth finished speaking, Inspector Nakamura was the first to speak. "What you saw as a severed head was actually the Transparent Monster's famous wax mask." "He can't walk around town without a head, so he disguises himself with a wax mask pulled completely over it."

“I heard about that from the children here. Since I don’t read newspapers, I hadn’t known about the Transparent Monster until now.”

The youth said with a foolish look on his face. "So you just stayed put like that, huh? You didn't even try to chase after the monster?"

Mr. Kurokawa asked the youth reproachfully. "Well... I didn't know he was that kind of villain..." "Even if I had known, I wouldn't have had the courage to chase after your awful guy." "Not screaming was all I could manage." "You fool." "Why didn't you shout?" "If only you'd told us - we had plenty of people here." "You could've captured the great monster causing panic across all Tokyo!" "And you let it slip right through your fingers..."

“No, I didn’t have the courage, but there was someone who went after him alone.”

“What? Why didn’t you say that sooner?” “Who was it?” “Who chased that guy?”

“A child. “It’s a child just like the ones here who caught me.” The vagrant youth answered in a somewhat irritated tone, staring intently at Kobayashi and the two boy members. “As I was squatting by the hedge, a child passed by, waving a flashlight around.” “And when he found me, he asked what I was doing.” “I was still too frightened to speak, but since the figure of that suited gentleman who had picked up the head was visible in the distance, I pointed at it.” “Then, that child seemed to grasp something on his own, turned off his flashlight, and stealthily began trailing after the suited gentleman monster.”

“Clever. Kobayashi, that must be one of your members. But being all alone must be nerve-wracking. In the heat of the moment with no time to make contact, he must have resorted to tailing it regardless—but I’m worried about that boy’s safety. Kobayashi, who could that be? Hurry and go check.”

Mr. Kurokawa stood up from his chair as though overwhelmed with anxiety.

The Monster's Lair

The child who single-handedly tailed the Transparent Monster was none other than Daibō—vice-leader of the Boy Detectives Club and known as Leader Kobayashi’s right-hand man. He was Daibō Hisashi, a second-year middle school student. When Daibō saw the suspicious figure that the vagrant youth was pointing to outside the hedge, he instantly thought that must be the Transparent Monster. Because the figure’s appearance from behind perfectly matched the monster’s outfit that everyone had heard about.

Here was a small-framed boy. Moreover, in the desolate mansion district where streetlights were exceedingly sparse, tailing proved relatively straightforward. About a hundred meters from the Shimada residence, at a dark street corner, an automobile sat parked with its headlights off. The suspiciously dressed gentleman approached the automobile, then knocked on its exterior in an odd rhythm—knock, knock, knock-knock-knock—as a signal. After opening the door and settling into the back seat, he whispered something to the driver in hushed tones.

Daibō was light on his feet and excelled at gymnastics equipment like the wooden horse and horizontal bar. Moreover, he was extremely adventurous. He thought there was no way he could let this golden opportunity slip away. It must be what they call a warrior’s shiver. For some reason, his body trembled and his heart began to race.

Daibō mentally shouted "Alright!", then quietly approached the rear of the automobile, nimbly leaped onto the rear wheel cover, stood on tiptoe there, and smoothly climbed up onto the automobile's roof. It was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it maneuver. By the time Daibō had clung to the roof like a lizard, the automobile was already in motion.

The automobile avoided police boxes, driving from one dark street to another for over thirty minutes. Neither the suspicious man nor the driver showed any sign of noticing that the vice-leader of the Boy Detectives Club clung to them right above their heads. Every time the automobile turned a corner, Daibō nearly got thrown off but somehow managed to keep clinging to the roof. The automobile stopped within Tokyo Metropolis at an overgrown field that might have been an old military barracks. As far as the eye could see stood large war-charred trees still jagged and tall, their clusters looming hazily against the distant glow of the bustling town's skyline.

When the suspicious man got out of the car and began walking off somewhere, Daibō—realizing he couldn’t afford to lose sight of him—quietly slid down from the roof and pressed himself flat against the ground to observe the situation. When a terrible rumbling noise suddenly erupted right above his head, he looked up in surprise to find the automobile beginning to depart. The Transparent Monster’s subordinate driver was likely transporting the car—now having completed its task—to some secret garage. In the blink of an eye, the automobile vanished into the darkness beyond.

At last, this was the final pursuit. The monster's lair was somewhere in this open field. What kind of place could it possibly be? The danger surrounding Daibō was growing increasingly grave. When he looked ahead, there stretched a grassy cliff some ten meters high, its expanse continuing endlessly. The monster proceeded toward that cliff. Daibō crawled across the grass, following the monster's trail. Since it was a pitch-dark open field, even if the monster turned around, there was little risk of discovery. As long as he didn't make any noise, he would be fine.

The monster approached the base of the cliff. It was extremely dark there—so dark that one could no longer make out any figures. Daibō opened his eyes wide and stared intently into the darkness.

Then came a rustling sound of grass brushing against something—and with that, the Transparent Monster vanished completely. No matter how hard he stared, there was nothing but the cliff's dirt and grass.

Had the Transparent Monster used magic yet again? No, that wasn't the case. There lay a large hole concealed by grass. A horizontal passage like a tunnel existed there. The Transparent Monster entered that tunnel. When Daibō realized this, he crept up to the tunnel entrance, strained his ears to listen, and peered inside. A rustling sound persisted. The Transparent Monster was advancing deep into the tunnel.

It was later discovered that this had been a horizontal air-raid shelter dug during the war. Because it stood in such a remote location and no one had come to fill in the hole, it had remained exactly as it was. At the entrance, grass had grown so thick that by now, even the fact there was a hole there had become impossible to tell. Daibō, making no sound and exercising utmost caution, began inching his way into the pitch-black horizontal tunnel.

However, after advancing just ten meters, he found himself at a dead end with no branching paths whatsoever. "Huh? That's strange. Did he hide somewhere?" But there was nowhere to hide. Since the passage was narrow, if the monster were there, he should have touched Daibō's body.

"Did he pull another trick from his sleeve and vanish?" Daibō wondered, puzzled. As he stayed perfectly still for a moment, a faint light appeared right before his eyes. There was a round hole about forty centimeters square, its other side dimly illuminated. "Ah! So there's a wide space beyond this small hole." "There's a light over there reflecting all the way here." "Then he must've squeezed through this tiny opening!"

Daibō finally noticed it there. Even if someone were to enter this horizontal tunnel, that small hole likely served as the passageway so they wouldn’t notice the Transparent Monster’s lair at the far end. Normally, there might be a lid placed over that hole from the inside.

"Alright, I'll try going inside here." Daibō made a split-second decision. To tell the truth, Daibō had been too hasty. Since he had discovered the monster’s lair, he should have temporarily retreated here and reported to Kobayashi and Inspector Nakamura. If he had done that, he could have avoided encountering such a terrifying ordeal. However, the boy adventurer Daibō had become utterly single-minded, like a hound that had caught its prey’s scent. He had no leisure to calmly consider the consequences.

The hole was small enough that one could barely enter by turning sideways. Daibō strained his ears to confirm no one was beyond the hole before slowly crawling through. When he poked his head out and looked around, he found the interior was indeed an immense cavern as he'd expected. Far ahead stretched something like a long vertical crack in wood that glowed faintly, its light making the cave dimly visible. The ceiling stood high enough for adults to walk upright, with a meter-wide space resembling an earthen corridor.

Daibō resolutely entered the space, stood up, and timidly walked toward the glowing crack-like fissure in the board.

When he drew near and examined it closely, sure enough, it was a board. It was something like a crude door made of planks. The light leaking through the cracks in the board was a reddish, flickering glow. There must be a candle lit on the other side.

When he strained his ears, a faint sound could be heard from beyond the door. It was the sound of someone moving about. Daibō knelt before the door and peered through the crack in the board. The moment he looked through, he shuddered violently as if startled. Yet even while trembling, he couldn't tear his eyes away. As though turned to stone, he remained frozen in that posture for an interminably long time, not moving a muscle.

Daibō's Adventure

It was a small room. On the front wall hung something like a black curtain that covered it entirely. In front of it was placed a white-painted iron bed like those found in hospitals, and on its white sheets sat a man facing this way. A man wearing thick blue and white striped pajamas.

But strangely enough, the person had no face. From the neck up, there was nothing. The pajamas alone were sitting there.

The pajamas stood up. Then they took two or three steps forward. They wore slippers on their feet. Yet they had no hands. There was nothing at the sleeve ends. But exactly as if hands existed there, the pajama sleeves moved.

Beside the bed stood a small, round table painted white. The headless pajama-clad man approached its side. Daibō's eyes followed the man and shifted toward the table. And when he caught sight of what was placed on top of it, a violent shudder ran through him.

On the table burned a candle set in a Western candlestick. There were a flask and cup filled with water. There were a tobacco case and an ashtray. Had it been just that, it would have been nothing unusual—but there was one more strange thing present. Perched on the table was something that had no business being there. It was a human head. Only the head of some wicked human remained atop the table, glaring fixedly in this direction.

Daibō involuntarily started to flee but, in that instant, noticed something and continued peering through the crack. Because he realized that what was on the table was not a real head but a wax mask. The Transparent Monster, wearing pajamas, was about to go to sleep. Since a wax mask would get in the way of sleeping, he must have taken it off and placed it on the table. That is why the pajama-clad man had no head. It wasn't that he had no head—it was simply invisible.

At that moment, the headless pajama-clad man took the stopper from the flask on the table and poured water into a cup. Since he wasn't wearing gloves, his hands remained invisible. As the pajama sleeves moved, the flask rose on its own, floated in midair, gradually tilted its mouth downward, and poured water into the cup. It was like watching a magic trick. Next, the cup filled with water smoothly floated into the air and came to rest near the collar of the pajamas. Just like the flask earlier, the cup remained floating in midair, gradually tilting as the water inside was drawn into empty space.

In truth, the Transparent Monster was holding the cup in his hand and drinking water, but since both his face and hands were transparent and invisible, the cup appeared to dance through midair on its own. Even when water flowed out from the cup, it never spilled downward. Because it was being poured into the mouth of the invisible Transparent Monster. Daibō had often heard stories about the Transparent Monster, but this was his first time seeing it. And, overwhelmed by the sheer strangeness of it all, he found himself utterly astonished. It was so surreal that he began to doubt whether he was dreaming.

As he kept watching through the crack, the Transparent Monster now took a cigarette from the table, lit it with the candle flame, and began puffing briskly. A single white rolled cigarette lay perfectly still in midair above the pajamas. One end would occasionally glow red, and each time smoke would billow out from empty space. The monster was exhaling smoke through its invisible nose and mouth.

As Daibō peered intently at this bizarre spectacle, a rustling sound like fabric brushing together came from the darkness behind him—saaah... saaah... Then he felt as though someone was breathing right behind him. "I thought only the Transparent Monster was in this hole," he wondered, "but could there still be someone else living here?"

As Daibō thought this, fear stiffened his body, leaving him unable to turn around. What manner of being lurked in the darkness behind him? Human or animal? Whatever it was, the sound of breathing meant it had to be alive. Daibō slowly reached his hand behind him, groping through the void. Something soft brushed against his fingers. The texture felt like an overcoat.

"So there really was someone standing behind me after all."

Daibō was so terrified he could hardly breathe, but now he was utterly desperate. He had no choice but to turn around. He had no choice but to turn around and look at the face of the person standing there.

Daibō suddenly whirled around to face backward and looked up at the large man standing there in the darkness.

Mysterious Old Man Though it was dark, candlelight seeped through the door crack, making shapes discernible in the gloom. When Daibō strained his eyes, an old man stood looming there. He had fluffy white hair cascading down to his chest and wore a bizarre black coat with bat-like sleeves. Square rimless glasses glinted sharply on his face. Though shadows obscured details, narrow eyes behind those lenses seemed to smirk faintly.

The Mysterious Old Man and Daibō glared at each other for some time when, before he knew it, the old man’s hand seized one of Daibō’s hands with a firm grip. “I have something to discuss with you. Come here. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you know.”

The Mysterious Old Man said in a surprisingly gentle voice.

“I don’t want to.” “I’m going home now.” “Let me go.”

Daibō mustered his courage and finally managed to say just that.

And then, he suddenly tried to run away, but since the Mysterious Old Man was gripping his hand, he couldn’t do anything. The Mysterious Old Man was terribly strong. “Hahahahaha! I’ll never let you escape. Anyone who’s seen the secrets here won’t be leaving the outside world again. Well, resign yourself and come here. There’s something I want to show you. I have things to discuss with you.” The Mysterious Old Man said this and, still gripping Daibō’s hand, walked forcefully further inside. No matter how hard he tried to resist, the Mysterious Old Man’s strength overpowered him, and he could only be dragged along helplessly.

With a creak, the wooden door opened, and a red light suddenly flooded in. There was also a candle standing there. It was a small room with two tables and chairs and nothing else in the way of decoration. The walls were made of concrete.

“This isn’t the place,” he said. “There’s still a secret room further in.” The old man, still gripping Daibō’s hand, reached out his other hand and pressed a spot on the wall. Then, as if there had been a secret button there, one of the concrete walls soundlessly slid open, creating a gap wide enough for someone to pass through. What had appeared to be a wall was in fact a thick concrete door.

Led by the old man's grip on his hand, when they passed through the gap, the concrete wall had sealed shut behind them as before. It was a pitch-dark tunnel-like space. After advancing about ten meters through the tunnel, the old man seemed to press another wall button. The door ahead slid open without a sound, and bright light poured through from beyond.

“Now, here is my laboratory. Let’s have a proper talk here.”

When Daibō entered the room, he was startled and glanced around restlessly. He had never even dreamed that such a splendid laboratory had been constructed deep within the air raid shelter. The room was about fifteen tatami mats in size, with its floor, ceiling, and surrounding walls all reinforced with concrete. Various strange tools were arranged throughout the space. The first thing that caught the eye was a white-painted metal platform resembling a surgical operating table located in one corner. Next to it stood a large white-painted glass cabinet, its tiered shelves lined with countless glinting knives, scissors, and tools resembling sinister surgical instruments.

On another side stood a large platform cluttered with glass bottles of peculiar shapes used for chemical experiments—large and small ones jumbled together in disarray. Upon this platform burned acetylene gas with a blue flame, its heat supporting a large round glass bottle where purple liquid bubbled violently, sending up frothy foam. Beside the chemistry table loomed a massive medicine cabinet, its shelves lined with rows of colored bottles in perfect formation. Throughout the room stood incomprehensible instruments placed so densely that the effect grew truly terrifying. Atop the chemistry table rested a three-pronged Western candlestick holding three large candles that blazed with intense brightness.

“Were you surprised?” “Hahaha… Surely you never imagined there’d be a laboratory like this deep beneath the earth, did you?” “However, I didn’t build this basement.” “This is an air raid shelter built by the Army during the war, you see, and these splendid secret rooms were properly constructed.” “This room was supposed to be the headquarters.” “Such secrets that no one knew about and had been left untouched—I’ve simply borrowed them for my own use, you see…” “Well, sit in that chair.”

The Mysterious Old Man said this and sat down in one of the chairs. In the bright light, his face appeared even more sinister—a snow-white head and long beard, a hawk-like nose, and behind square frameless glasses gleamed sharp eyes that gave him the air of some demonic professor. “You’re Daibō, vice-leader of the Boy Detectives Club.” “I know all about you.” “Tailing someone by clinging to a car roof—quite the brave lad.” “That bravery impresses me. I’ve decided to take you as my apprentice.” “Hahaha… Well? Aren’t you delighted?”

“Who are you, old man?” “I cannot become a disciple of someone I don’t know.”

Daibō had now completely steeled his resolve. "Hahaha... It's me," "I am the world's greatest scientist." "I've made an invention far more tremendous than atomic bombs." "Yet my creation remains unknown." "Should it become known—the entire world would boil over." "No... This dreadful invention might get me killed."

The Mysterious Old Man uttered something preposterous. Daibō grew queasy, suspecting this old man might have lost his sanity. What tremendous invention could the old man possibly claim to have created?

Transparent Monster No. 4

The old man’s terrifying tale continued.

“Now, what exactly is that Transparent Monster causing such an uproar in society? Do you think such a bizarre human could have been born naturally? Of course, it wasn’t born. Nor did it come flying from outer space. That was created. And the one who created that... is none other than myself.” Daibō stared in astonishment at the Mysterious Old Man’s glittering square-framed glasses and the white beard that swayed with every word he spoke.

“When I say 'create,' it isn't about making humans from scratch. Apply a certain chemical change to a visible human body like yours, and the whole form becomes transparent—vanishes from sight. For thirty years I poured effort upon effort to invent the chemical that triggers this transformation. And the first prototype born from this work? That's Transparent Monster No. 1 now causing such a stir around the world.”

"The guy in pajamas you spied on—the one who stole the Pearl Tower from Shimada's house." "I've created up to No.3." "In other words, three Transparent Humans exist." "But I've only released No.1 to the world—Nos.2 and 3 remain in my keeping." "They still need a bit more training, you see." "Those two Transparent Monsters are in this very room." "Even I, their creator, can't see where they are—but they're here without doubt." "Hey, No.2! If you're there, answer me!"

Then, from the far side of the room came a reply: "Yes."

“Is No. 3 here?” From another direction came a different voice’s response: “Yes.” “Well now, Daibō? There are clearly two of them present.” “Yet their forms remain completely invisible.” “Does this still leave you unconvinced?” “Very well—I shall demonstrate proof.” “No. 2! Place the glass bottle from the right end of the experiment table onto the chemical shelf.”

As the old man's words were still hanging in the air, the glass bottle on the experiment table floated smoothly upward into midair. Then, rising steadily higher, the bottle perched neatly atop the chemical shelf and remained motionless. Certainly, Transparent Humans existed in this room. Could such a thing really be possible? Using chemicals to make humans transparent at will—could such a feat truly be achievable? Yet with this proof before his very eyes, he couldn't help but believe. Daibō felt as if he were dreaming within a dream.

“Well then, have you understood that what I say isn’t a lie? Up until now, I’ve only made three. But three isn’t the end. If they but agree, I can create Transparent Humans—a hundred, a thousand, nay, tens or even hundreds of thousands of them. Do you grasp this? Do you grasp how dreadful it is?” “With a hundred thousand Transparent Humans, we wouldn’t lose even if the entire world opposed us. Since we’re invisible, there’s nowhere we can’t infiltrate. No secret we can’t uncover. Yet our enemies—even if they try to attack the Transparent Humans—they cannot strike them. Even if they attempt capture—they cannot seize them. If there were not one but a hundred thousand, they could withstand hundreds of millions worldwide. Could anything be more terrifying for mankind?”

“The great invention surpassing the atomic bomb—this is it. Through my invention, the world will be transformed. War will become impossible. But that’s not all. I could even make every visible human on Earth disappear. I could transform every person on Earth into a new race—Transparent Humans.”

Behind the Mysterious Old Man's square glasses, his eyes blazed fiercely with an intensity that seemed to radiate golden light. He had gone utterly mad with excitement over his grand invention. Daibō found himself trembling uncontrollably—the more he learned about this horrifying creation, the more his body shook in ways he couldn't suppress. The Mysterious Old Man stared silently at Daibō's face for a long moment before finally speaking, his lips twisting into an eerie, sly grin.

“Well now, Daibō-kun—wouldn’t you like to become my disciple?” “And won’t you lend your efforts to assist this grand invention?” “What must I do for that?”

Daibō asked fearfully. “All you need to do is become Transparent Human No. 4.” The Mysterious Old Man, still grinning, said something so startling and terrifying. “I don’t want to! I don’t want to! I don’t want to be turned into a Transparent Human!” Daibō turned deathly pale and shouted.

“Ha ha ha… You’re scared, aren’t you.” “Oh, come now, there’s nothing scary about it at all.” “All you need to do is sleep on that operating table for one night.” “First, I’ll inject a sleeping drug, so you’ll fall fast asleep without knowing a thing.” “And then, when you wake up, you’ll already have become a Transparent Human.” “Without being seen by anyone, you can do anything.” “You’d be just like a wizard from a fairy tale.” “Well, what do you think?” “Isn’t this like something out of a dream?” “Do you think there’s anything else as fascinating as this?”

“I do not want to! “I do not want my face and body to disappear! “My father and mother would never see me again, and I would have to leave my friends behind. “I do not want that. “I do not want to become a wizard or anything like that.”

Daibō desperately pleaded his refusal, but there was no way the old man would listen. “Do you hate it that much? But no matter how much you protest, you’re my captive now. Even if you try to escape, there’s no exit in this room. You don’t even know how to open the secret door. You have no choice but to obey my commands. Now, be a good boy and listen to Grandpa. Stay still.”

As he said this, the Mysterious Old Man suddenly stood up from his chair and, flaring his overcoat sleeves like bat wings, lunged at Daibō. And in an instant, he grabbed him under his arm, carried him to the operating table, and laid him down on it. No matter how much he thrashed around now, it was futile. Restrained by the Mysterious Old Man’s iron-like arms, he couldn’t even move a muscle. Daibō finally closed his eyes in resignation.

He knew his left sleeve had been rolled up. But he kept his eyes shut. Struggling would accomplish nothing. Soon came a sharp sting in his arm like an insect bite. The needle had pierced his skin. "There now, that's done. "You'll be asleep soon." Daibō lay motionless, his mind emptied. Gradually a leaden weight spread through his limbs. Somehow it felt pleasant. His eyelids grew heavy, head lolling forward. From somewhere distant came what sounded like a half-remembered lullaby. Then without noticing when, he sank into bottomless sleep.

Transparent Boy

Daibō opened his eyes naturally as if waking from a dream, though he couldn't tell how much time had passed. His arms and legs remained bound by something, leaving him completely unable to move.

However, it wasn’t the Mysterious Old Man’s arm but thin rope wound tightly around him. Daibō had been forced to sit on a chair, his arms and legs tightly bound with thin rope.

There was no one nearby. It was a cramped space, about three square meters in size like a box. When he suddenly noticed, there was something glinting on the front wall. A mirror. A mirror about thirty centimeters square was embedded in the wall. It took Daibō nearly a full minute to realize it was a mirror. For there, reflected in it, was something utterly indescribable—a bizarre, unknowable thing. In the mirror, only the upper half of a school uniform—from the chest up—was facing this way. However, above the collar of that uniform, there was no neck. The school uniform—from the way its wrinkles formed down to the button designs—was exactly identical to the one Daibō wore. The reflection in that mirror had to be himself. And yet, only his neck had vanished as if wiped clean away.

Daibō’s body began to tremble violently from sheer terror. His face must have turned deathly pale as well. However，his face was no longer visible to human eyes. His face had vanished. His body had vanished as well. Daibō had been turned into a Transparent Human before he knew it. That was why only his school uniform was reflected in the mirror.

Everyone, what do you think you would feel if your entire body became completely invisible? You would vanish from this world. Yet he remained fully alive. They say ninja of old could make their bodies disappear, but that was only temporary. They could always return to their original forms. But Daibō could never regain his former appearance again. He would have to spend his whole life as an invisible human. Has anything so dreadful ever existed in this world?

When Daibō thought of that, an indescribable sadness welled up within him. He barely managed to clamp his teeth together and suppress the urge to cry out, “Mooom!” However, he couldn’t stop the tears. He could clearly feel hot tears streaming down his cheeks. But those tears could not be seen by the eye. In the mirror before him, nothing was reflected.

“Ah, you’ve noticed? How does it feel?”

When he turned around, a small side door had opened, and from it peered the Mysterious Old Man’s square-framed glasses. “You’ve already become a Transparent Human invisible to human eyes.” “Whether you’re grinning now or pouting—even I can’t tell.” “How about it—are you lonely?” “Or are you enjoying yourself?” “From today onward, like Sarutobi Sasuke, there’s nothing you can’t do.” “You’ve become a splendid Transparent Monster.” “Come now—cheer up.”

The Mysterious Old Man approached Daibō, lifted the chair with him still on it, and brought him out of the small room. It was a dark earthen corridor. There, he untied the ropes binding Daibō’s arms and legs, picked him up, and began carrying him somewhere.

“You’ll just have to endure this a little longer. Until you grow accustomed to living as Air Man, you’ll need to put up with some confinement. It would be disastrous if you somehow escaped now. If you tried to flee at this stage—before fully becoming a Transparent Human—you’d be captured immediately. Even invisible, your physical body still exists. Once they grab hold of you, it’s over. That’s why you’ll remain here for now.”

With a clang, the iron lattice door opened.

On the floor before it sat a desk, where the faint glow of a small candle dimly lit the surroundings.

The Mysterious Old Man placed Daibō inside the iron bars, shut the door tight, and locked it from the outside. That was an iron-barred prison cell like a beast’s cage at a zoo. Daibō was confined there. “You’ll just have to endure for a little while.” “I’ll make sure to bring your meals properly.”

The Mysterious Old Man shook his long white beard and laughed without making a sound. The square glasses caught the light of the candle and glittered ominously. The Mysterious Old Man took that candle in hand and vanished into the unknown.

Daibō was crouching on the cold concrete floor in the pitch darkness after the candle had gone out. He remained crouched there, crushed by an inexpressible loneliness and sorrow.

B.D. Badge

Shifting scenes, the narrative now turns to Leader Kobayashi and the members of the Boy Detectives Club. The day after Daibō became a prisoner in the cave, the boys gathered at the Shimada boy's house immediately upon returning from school. The police officers had searched until late into the night for Daibō, who had gone missing, but owing to the late hour, they ultimately failed to find him. Therefore, Inspector Nakamura and his team temporarily withdrew to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, established the Transparent Monster Investigation Headquarters in one of its rooms, and launched a large-scale operation spanning all of Tokyo. Mr. Kurokawa remained stationed at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department's press club and constantly appeared at the investigation headquarters.

However, for the boys of the Boy Detectives Club, their immediate concern lay not with apprehending the Transparent Monster but with ensuring their vice-leader Daibō's safety. They absolutely had to find Daibō. Thus resolved, they determined not to entrust this to the police but to trace their vice-leader's whereabouts through their own efforts.

Leader Kobayashi borrowed the telephone at the Shimada boy’s house, gave instructions to members who had telephones, and had them relay the message to nearby members. Through this method, six boys swiftly gathered at the Shimada residence. In about an hour, once all members had assembled, Kobayashi divided the ten boys into five groups and decided to have them search along five different routes starting from the Shimada residence.

“Look for the B.D. Badges. Daibō must have used those for sure—once we find them, it’s as good as done.”

Leader Kobayashi gave such instructions to the departing boys. What on earth was this B.D. Badge?

That would soon become clear. A group of boys would soon find that B.D. Badge.

Of the boy search party divided into groups from Group One to Group Five, the two boys assigned to Group Two ended up being responsible—quite by chance—for searching in the direction where the Transparent Monster’s automobile had fled the previous night. However, since the boys knew nothing of such matters, they simply wandered aimlessly in whatever direction their feet took them. One took the right side of the street, the other the left, dividing their tasks as they peered around restlessly, particularly casting sharp glances at the ground while advancing.

After turning many street corners and walking about one kilometer, the boy on the right suddenly stopped in his tracks. Because right there on the ground before him lay a small, silvery-glinting object that had fallen.

The boy crouched there, swiftly picked up the silver object, and beckoned to his friend on the left side.

“I knew it! This is a B.D. Badge.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” “It’s identical to this one.”

One of the boys took out a silver badge from his pocket and compared the two. It was indeed a B.D. Badge.

“Splendid! Now we can track down Daibō!” Vivid hues of joy appeared on the boys’ faces. Here, we must provide a brief explanation of the B.D. Badge. “In the book titled ‘The Boy Detectives Club,’ the details of this badge are described; it is the emblem of the Boy Detectives Club members.” The “B.D.” in the name comes from taking the initial letters of the English words for “Boy” and “Detective,” combining the B and D into a pattern-like design for the emblem, from which it was named.

This B.D. Badge had various uses beyond serving as a mark of membership. First and foremost—since they were made of heavy lead—carrying multiple badges in one’s pocket meant they could substitute for throwing stones when needed. Second—when confined in an enemy’s hideout—they could carve a message on the soft lead surface of the badge’s back with a knife and toss it out a window or over a wall to communicate. Third, by tying a thread to the needle on the badge, they could measure the depth of water. Fourthly, if captured and taken somewhere, dropping this badge along the way would leave a marker to indicate the direction. Moreover, there were still various other uses.

The members attached these badges to the inside of their school uniform jackets and, on certain occasions, opened them to show others they were part of the club. But in addition to this, they always kept twenty to thirty badges ready in their pockets at all times. While lying prone on the Transparent Monster’s car roof, Daibō had taken out a B.D. Badge from his pocket and dropped it on the road each time they turned a street corner. What the two boys had found was undoubtedly one of those.

The two pressed forward with eyes wide as saucers, scanning nothing but the ground. Each time they reached a street corner, they divided tasks—one would dash off in one direction, the other in another—and whenever they found a badge, they whistled to summon their partner before proceeding down that road together. Tracing from badge to badge, they finally emerged into that burnt field.

“This is strange. We’ve ended up in this huge open field.” “There must be some secret in this field. Look, there’s another badge over there. It seems where Daibō is isn’t far now.” When they advanced to where the badge had fallen, they saw another silver-glinting object in the grass beyond. “Oh, there’s another one over there!” “There’s another one here too,” one muttered feverishly. As they walked along picking up badges, the boys finally arrived at the entrance to that air raid shelter.

When they discovered the entrance to the air raid shelter overgrown with grass, the two boys felt a strange chill run down their spines and instinctively exchanged glances.

“Look—there are so many badges here. Daibō must have been taken into this hole.” One of them pointed at the five or six clustered badges and whispered. It was impossible to tell what lurked in the darkness of the hole. They couldn’t risk raising their voices. “Alright, this is the spot. I’ll hide around here and keep watch, so you go borrow a nearby telephone and inform Leader Kobayashi. If we go into this hole by ourselves, we might fail. After all, it’s better to have Leader Kobayashi inform Inspector Nakamura.”

This boy was more cautious than Daibō. He hunched down in a nearby clump of grass and kept watch at the cave entrance. The other boy dashed toward town like an arrow to borrow a telephone.

Demons in the Dark

A little over an hour later, around five in the afternoon.

In front of the air raid shelter on the burnt field, a formidable police squad had gathered. At the front were one of the guide boys who had discovered this cave and Leader Kobayashi, followed by Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa, with six police officers armed to the teeth bringing up the rear. Since they were stepping into the darkness of the cave, everyone carried flashlights in hand. "You three, hold your position at this entrance. If anyone tries to escape from inside, arrest them immediately." "The enemy's invisible—mere surveillance won't work." "Extend the arrest cables after we enter, then set up a net at the entrance." "Crisscross the thin cables." "That way, even the Transparent Monster has a physical body—if it tries to flee, you'll know instantly." "If those thin cables show any odd movement, pounce on it right away and make the arrest." "Understood?"

After giving those orders to the three police officers, Inspector Nakamura said, "Then I'll take the lead," and crouching down, he abruptly stepped into the dark cave. True to his moniker "Demon Inspector," he was indeed a courageous chief investigator. Not wanting to be outdone, Reporter Kurokawa followed suit, then came Kobayashi—the Boy Detectives Club leader—along with the remaining two boys and three police officers, all being drawn into the cave.

Unlike Daibō's situation, they had flashlights—and with eight people in their group, their hearts stayed steady. After crawling through the small hole at the dead end of that familiar cave, they emerged into a spacious area. They opened all the wooden doors there to check, but Daibō was nowhere to be found. Since the Transparent Monster was an invisible entity, they couldn't tell whether it was there or not, but strangely, there wasn't the slightest trace of human presence. It was deathly silent, like an empty house.

After thoroughly investigating every last one of the small rooms, they finally arrived at what turned out to be the Mysterious Old Man’s laboratory. Strangely enough, all the secret doors leading there had been left wide open.

The laboratory stood empty. Inspector Nakamura and Kobayashi—entering this room for the first time—couldn't have realized it, but the laboratory's condition had changed drastically from when Daibō had seen it. More than half the medicine bottles and strange instruments on the shelves had vanished, leaving behind nothing but worthless junk. It felt exactly like the aftermath of a move. Had the Mysterious Old Man somehow learned about the approaching police squad and already fled somewhere?

The people were completely overwhelmed by the cave's vastness and the laboratory's grandeur, but since they knew nothing of the Mysterious Old Man having lived there, they harbored no particular suspicions and simply kept searching every corner of the room. "Oh, there's another entrance here."

Reporter Kurokawa found a small secret door. And it too had been left wide open.

“There’s still more further in.” “Let’s check it out.”

Inspector Nakamura took the lead and entered there. In the hollow darkness, a damp, unpleasant air hung thick. It was a gloomy place, like something out of hell. The flashlight beams in everyone’s hands crisscrossed chaotically, casting the shadows of those who stepped into their light onto the walls and ceiling like hulking specters. The way these overlapping silhouettes swayed and shifted created an indescribably eerie spectacle.

"Ah! Who's there? Who just passed by me?!" Kobayashi's high-pitched voice pierced through the darkness.

“No one’s coming through. Everyone’s moving forward. There’s no one coming from the other side.”

It was Reporter Kurokawa’s voice. “But someone definitely touched me,” “It felt like someone brushed past me and went behind.” Kobayashi truly felt it. Something soft touched his shoulder and arm, then slipped away behind him with a faint whoosh.

“Ah! Someone just passed by me.” “It’s definitely human.” “But it’s invisible.”

One of the police officers shouted. Then, following that, here and there, voices cried out from all around as people reported human-like figures brushing past them.

The Transparent Monster was there in that darkness. What's more, there seemed to be more than one of them. It was an indescribable terror, like countless jellyfish drifting weightlessly through the depths of a pitch-black sea. "Kobayashi! Here! Over here!"

At that moment, a familiar voice came drifting from out of nowhere. It was Daibō’s voice. Daibō was somewhere in this darkness. “You’re Daibō, right? Where are you?”

Kobayashi swung his flashlight in a wide arc as he called back. “Here! Here!”

Daibō’s voice resounded from ahead. Kobayashi proceeded toward the direction of the voice. Then, within the flashlight’s beam, iron bars came into view. Iron-barred latticework, like that of a wild beast’s cage, came into view. Daibō’s voice seemed to be echoing from within that lattice.

Kobayashi and the club member rushed up to the front of the lattice. Then, with two flashlights, they illuminated every corner of the iron-barred lattice from edge to edge. However, there was no one inside that cage-like room. “Ah, it’s Kobayashi-kun and Tamura-kun. I’ve been through something horrible. There was an old man with square-framed glasses and a white beard, right? That guy did this to me.”

Kobayashi and Tamura, the club member, startled, looked around. Indeed, Daibō’s voice—so achingly familiar—was coming from right in front of them. But no matter how hard they stared, Daibō himself remained nowhere to be seen.

“Daibō, where are you?” “I’m right here, right in front of you all. Look, I’m right here inside these iron bars!” Then came the sound of fingernails tapping—clack, clack—against the iron bars. It must have been the iron bars right in front of them. And yet, Daibō was still nowhere to be seen. Kobayashi and Tamura, unaware that Daibō had been turned into a Transparent Human, found it deeply unsettling to hear only his voice emerging from the empty iron-barred room—as if they’d encountered a ghost.

Jellyfish of the Cavern

Kobayashi and the Boy Detectives Club member clung to the iron bars and shouted.

“Daibō, you’re there, aren’t you?”

No matter how much Kobayashi shone his flashlight into the iron bars, finding no one inside, he couldn’t help but verify it once more. “Yeah, I’m here. I’m right in front of you all.” Daibō’s voice answered and demonstrated by tapping the iron bars with his fingernails—clack, clack.

“While I was asleep, the old man with square-framed glasses turned me into a Transparent Human.” “Then he stripped me naked and locked me up here.”

It was a sorrowful voice that seemed on the verge of tears. The members of the search party each held flashlights aloft, but their pale, feeble light lacked the strength to dispel the darkness. From that darkness came only the sorrowful voice of a boy whose form remained unseen. “We searched every corner of these underground passages, but that old man wasn’t anywhere.” “But somehow, I feel like there are several invisible ones here.”

As soon as Kobayashi spoke, Daibō’s voice picked up where he left off, “Well, that’s Transparent Humans No. 1 through No. 3.” “No.1 is the Transparent Monster who caused such an uproar in the world, while No.2 and No.3 haven’t been permitted to go outside yet.” “Taking advantage of being invisible, those three might still be remaining in this hole.”

“Hmm… So including you, they’ve created four Transparent Humans.” “What on earth do they intend to do by creating so many invisible humans?” Reporter Kurokawa interjected from beside Kobayashi. Daibō’s voice answered him.

“Ah, Mr. Kurokawa. The old man with square-framed glasses is planning something terrible. He wants to create thousands—tens of thousands—of Transparent Monsters. Then there’d be nothing he couldn’t do. He says neither the police nor the military scare him—that he’ll never be defeated by anyone. When I heard that… I was horrified.” Reporter Kurokawa, Inspector Nakamura, Kobayashi, and the police officers stood speechless. The idea of a horde of Transparent Monsters struck the adults far more deeply than Daibō could have imagined. For they realized—if such a Transparent Army were formed, something even more dreadful than atomic bombings might occur.

The police were being troubled even by a single Transparent Monster. When they thought of that number growing to ten, then a hundred, then a thousand, then ten thousand, a shiver ran down their spines, chilling them to the very core. It was a dreadful sensation, as if they were trapped in a nightmare. Inspector Nakamura thought it would be terrible if things came to that. It wouldn’t be limited to Japan—something so terrifying it would make people across the entire world tremble in fear would occur. He thought they had to quickly capture the Mysterious Old Man and destroy his invention before it was too late.

“Ah! There’s someone here!”

At that moment, Reporter Kurokawa’s shout suddenly rang out. The iron-barred cell confining Daibō had an entrance door with a large lock on the outside, but Reporter Kurokawa happened to be standing right in front of that very door.

When they heard the voice cry, “There’s someone here!”, three police officers rushed to the spot. But they were too late. The reinforced iron door clanged open—then clanged shut again. “The Transparent Monster!” “It just opened this door and went inside—right now!” Reporter Kurokawa shouted. There, one of the Transparent Monsters—though which number remained unclear—had been creeping forward unseen. Then using a skeleton key to undo the lock, it swung open the iron-barred door and slipped into the cell.

And then, at that moment, from within the iron bars—

“Who’s there?!” “Ah! What are you doing?!” Daibō’s shouting voice was heard. The Transparent Monster that had just entered was doing something to Daibō-kun. “Daibō-kun, what’s wrong?” “Who’s there?”

Inspector Nakamura shouted loudly. Then, the three officers’ flashlights swept back and forth across the iron bars. However, they could see nothing. It was completely empty. From that empty space came the sound of labored human breathing—"Hah... hah..."—gasping as if in distress. It wasn’t just one person—the overlapping breaths of two distinct individuals could be heard.

“Daibō-kun, answer me! What’s wrong?” “What happened to you?”

Inspector Nakamura shouted again.

“Daibō-kun!” “Daibō-kun!”

Kobayashi and the two boys also shouted at the top of their voices. However, the two sets of breathing only grew increasingly violent. Daibō and another transparent human were gasping for breath and seemed to be grappling with each other. Two large jellyfish were wrestling in the darkness. At that moment, Daibō-kun’s pained, hoarse voice came through. “Ah! Damn it… This guy—this is No.1…!” “Kobayashi…! Transparent Monster No.1 is—he’s grabbing me… trying to drag me somewhere…!”

It was a broken, fragmented voice—as if he were screaming while desperately shaking off, again and again, the hand clamping over his mouth. “Ah! Help... help...” Just like that, his voice vanished as if someone had abruptly clamped a hand over his mouth. “Daibō! I’ll save you now—hang in there!” Inspector Nakamura shouted while rushing toward the iron-barred door.

However, they were too late. In the blink of an eye, something like a whirlwind swept past. The iron-barred door suddenly flew open from within. Then something large and soft—like a jellyfish—shoved Reporter Kurokawa aside and fled into the darkness. Reporter Kurokawa staggered backward from the impact and collided with a police officer standing there. The two tumbled over each other and fell to the ground.

Inspector Nakamura and Kobayashi rushed to the spot.

“Kurokawa, pull yourself together! What’s wrong?” “It escaped! That way! The Transparent Monster grabbed Daibō-kun, shoved me aside, and escaped! Quickly! Go after it!” With Inspector Nakamura leading the way, everyone dashed off in the direction Reporter Kurokawa had pointed, swinging their flashlights to light the path. However, their enemy was an invisible being. Moreover, every corner lay within a cave sealed by darkness. No matter how frantically the officers rushed, it was already too late. No matter how thoroughly they searched, the Transparent Monster was never found.

The bottom of the old well The search party members searched every room in the cave and made their way back to the entrance. At the entrance hole, they had crisscrossed barbed wire vertically and horizontally to ensure the Transparent Monster couldn’t escape. And outside the hole, three police officers were continuing to keep watch.

“You—any abnormalities to report?” Inspector Nakamura called out to the officers outside the hole. “No abnormalities.” “This barbed wire didn’t budge an inch, right?” “No, sir. It didn’t budge an inch.”

If the Transparent Monster had escaped through here，the barbed wire would have necessarily moved. Given that it hadn’t moved，there was no choice but to conclude the Transparent Monster hadn’t passed through here. So was the Transparent Monster still hiding somewhere in the cave，holding onto Daibō? “How strange…” “Even after searching that thoroughly，there was no trace of anyone anywhere.” “Where on earth could it have hidden?”

Inspector Nakamura muttered bitterly. Then Reporter Kurokawa, who stood nearby, tilted his head slightly and spoke. “Inspector Nakamura, it just occurred to me—perhaps there’s another secret entrance besides this one.” “A cautious villain wouldn’t feel secure living in a place with only one exit like a dead-end sack.” “There must surely be another secret passage.” “If we suppose the Mysterious Old Man also escaped from there, wouldn’t everything make sense?”

“Hmm, that’s a possibility.” “But given how thoroughly we searched, if there were a secret passage, we should’ve noticed it.”

“It was your search method that was flawed. If he didn’t escape through this entrance, then there are only two possibilities—either he’s still inside the hole or there’s another entrance. In any case, let’s search again.”

As a result, the people had no choice but to turn around and head back into the cave. And so, swinging their flashlights to illuminate their path, they began walking through room after room once more.

“Ah! Inspector Nakamura, Mr. Kurokawa—please come here for a moment!” Kobayashi called out in a stifled voice from the corner of the room. That was the chemical laboratory. When Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa rushed over, Kobayashi had opened one of the closet doors and was shining his flashlight inside. Inside the closet were wooden boxes, empty bottles, and other items stored haphazardly, which had been rolled around and broken as if someone had trampled through them.

“Look at that.” Kobayashi directed the beam of his flashlight at the opposite wall. The wall was studded with numerous large iron nails, each as thick as one centimeter. “Could those nails be footholds for climbing up to the ceiling?” Kobayashi said this and gradually directed his flashlight upward toward the ceiling. Then, one of the ceiling boards tilted slightly askew—lo and behold, a gap had formed.

“There—see? I’ll climb up and check.”

Kobayashi pocketed his flashlight, gripped the large nails with his hands and feet, and climbed up toward the ceiling. And when he gave a strong push to the board where the gap had formed, it opened with ease—lo and behold, a large square hole appeared there.

Kobayashi took out his pocket flashlight and shone it upward into the hole for a while, then let out a delighted “Ah!” “As I thought—this is the exit. A large hole extends all the way up. And there’s an iron ladder hanging there.” It was a deep hole exactly like an old well, with a sturdy iron ladder installed on one side. In other words, the ceiling of the closet corresponded to the bottom of the old well.

“Alright, Kobayashi, let’s try climbing that iron ladder.” “I’ll follow right behind you.” “Inspector Nakamura, please come too.” Reporter Kurokawa, having said that, stepped into the closet.

Encouraged by those words, Kobayashi grabbed hold of the iron ladder and began climbing cautiously through the pitch-dark old well, one rung at a time. Reporter Kurokawa and Inspector Nakamura followed behind him. When they had climbed about twenty rungs of the iron ladder, their heads met an obstruction, and they could no longer proceed.

“Oh, we’ve hit a dead end here.” As Kobayashi hesitated, Reporter Kurokawa shone his flashlight upward from below,

“That can’t be right. “There must be a lid there. “Give it a good hard push.”

“Ah! Just as I thought!” “It opens!” It was a heavy lid made of iron plate. When they pushed it up with all their might, a dazzling light suddenly streamed down from above. The mouth of the old well lay open amidst the grass atop the cliff. From the iron plate to the ground was only about five meters. Kobayashi and the others set their feet on the uneven stone wall inside and managed to get outside without difficulty.

“Hmm, cleverly designed. It’s a secret entrance disguised as an old well. Even if someone peers in from outside, since the iron plate is closed now, it looks just like the bottom of a well. No one would notice there’s such a passageway underneath.”

Reporter Kurokawa muttered admiringly. The Mysterious Old Man had undoubtedly escaped from here. The Transparent Monsters had also exited from here. If Transparent Monster No.1 climbed that iron ladder while carrying Daibō, he must possess extraordinary strength.

Inspector Nakamura searched the area to see if the Mysterious Old Man or the Transparent Monster had left any footprints behind, but weeds covered the ground completely, and he found nothing. They could not determine which direction they had fled. The search party had only managed to discover the monster's hideout—they could neither capture their foe nor rescue Daibō. With empty hands, they had no choice but to withdraw.

Inspector Nakamura left guards at both the cave entrance and the old well, deciding to temporarily return to the Metropolitan Police Department’s investigation headquarters. However, during the car ride back, Reporter Kurokawa leaned close to the inspector’s ear and whispered the following. “Inspector Nakamura, this is the biggest case since the Metropolitan Police Department was established.” “It’s a terrifying enemy that even all police officers across Japan combined couldn’t handle.” “That reminds me—I recall a certain person.” “If that person were to assist the police and work with us, perhaps we might be able to take him down.”

“Who is that, hmm?” “Akechi Kogorō. “It’s finally time for Mr. Akechi to step in. When I asked Kobayashi, he said Mr. Akechi was tied up with another case and couldn’t spare the time—but now’s not the moment for that. He should drop everything else and help the police. Inspector Nakamura, you’re close friends with Detective Akechi, aren’t you? When we get back to headquarters, you’ll call him immediately, right?”

"Hmm, I'd actually been considering that myself." "Alright! In that case, I'll enlist Mr. Akechi's expertise."

Inspector Nakamura declared forcefully, as if he had made up his mind.

Akechi Kogorō

This was the director’s office of the Akechi Detective Agency. Wall-to-wall bookshelves were crammed with books bearing gold lettering. Facing the large desk before them sat the famous detective Akechi Kogorō. The desk’s mirror-like surface gleamed, reflecting Akechi’s face. He wore a black serge suit and light brown tie, his usual tousled hair framing a Westerner-like, chiseled face.

Akechi was now holding the desk phone receiver to his ear and speaking about something.

“Hmm, I thought you’d be contacting me around now.” “I’ve also done some research on the Transparent Monster.” “Of course I’ll help out.” “Very well.” “Then I’ll head over to you now.”

It was a call from Inspector Nakamura requesting him to come to the investigation headquarters. Akechi had finished the conversation and begun preparing to go out when, after what felt like only three minutes, the desk phone rang piercingly once again. When he put the receiver to his ear again, it was an unfamiliar, strangely hoarse voice coming from a public telephone. “This is the Akechi Detective Agency, isn’t it?” “Is Detective there?” “This is Akechi.” “And you are?”

“I am the man you’re about to face.” “You understand, don’t you?” “Well, well—that’s sudden.” “You must be the Mysterious Old Man of the Cave.”

“Hmph, quick as ever.” “Exactly as you deduced.” “Tell me—do you value your life so little?” “Ha ha ha ha! A threat?” “Those don’t work on me.” “So you insist on fighting.” “This isn’t a fight.” “I’ll expose your secrets.” “And soon.” “Ha ha ha! You’re breathing hard.” “But Akechi—this isn’t empty intimidation.” “I mean every word.” “You could be maimed.” “Killed.” “No—something far worse awaits…” “A man of your talents vanishing would be tragic. Hence this warning.” “Well?” “Withdraw temporarily. Observe how matters unfold.”

“Ha ha ha ha! No matter how much you say such things, it’s pointless.” “I’m busy.” “Then we’ll meet again somewhere soon enough.”

Just as he was about to put down the receiver, the other party’s terrifying curse exploded through the line. “Hmph, you’ll regret this. I’ll show you the torments of hell! I’ll make you suffer something far worse than death…!” Akechi listened dismissively and, smiling faintly, hung up the receiver.

Secret Room

After hanging up the phone, Akechi Kogorō remained lost in thought for a moment, then pressed the bell button on his desk and summoned the maid. And,

“Have Fumiyo come here for a moment,” he instructed.

Fumiyo was the name of Detective Akechi’s young and beautiful wife.

Fumiyo had formerly served as the famous detective's assistant. During an incident called "The Vampire," she distinguished herself in various ways, and when that case was resolved, she married Akechi. Even in "The Tiger’s Tooth" incident, she was such a steadfast person that she held her own against the Fiend with Twenty Faces in a battle of wits without losing. “Do you require something?”

Fumiyo opened the door, entered, and approached Akechi. She wore a sky-blue Western-style dress that suited her well, with thick eyebrows and large eyes—a beautiful woman. “I’ve decided to take on the Transparent Monster case at last.” “So I was about to head out to Inspector Nakamura’s office at the Metropolitan Police when the leader of the Transparent Monsters called.” “It’s the Mysterious Old Man with square-framed glasses that Kobayashi mentioned.”

“Oh, so what did he say?” “Step back." “Otherwise your life’s in danger…” “Just his usual threat.” Because she was the famous detective’s wife, Fumiyo didn’t startle easily at such frightening talk. “But you must be careful—he has invisible henchmen working for him.” “Yes, I was just considering that.” “This opponent seems particularly formidable.” “In fact, even as we speak like this, a Transparent Human might have slipped into this room to eavesdrop.” “Since they’re invisible, you mustn’t lower your guard for an instant.” “That’s why I can’t speak to you normally.” “Bring your ear here.”

Fumiyo brought her face close to Akechi’s mouth. Akechi whispered something in a hushed tone into her ear.

As Fumiyo listened to the secret talk while nodding, her expression gradually grew serious. It seemed to be a discussion about something extremely important.

When they finished talking, Akechi took the lead and left the room. Fumiyo followed close behind. Descending the stairs and entering a secluded room, Akechi pressed his back tightly against one wall and stood firm. “Listen—you’ll come in after me,” he said. “That way, even a Transparent Monster won’t be able to follow.” Still standing before the wall, Detective Akechi reached out his right hand and firmly pressed a specific spot on the adjacent pillar.

Then, something strange happened in an instant. No sooner had there been a fluttering sensation than Akechi's figure disappeared as if erased.

However, even after seeing that, Fumiyo was not surprised in the least. She pressed her back against the wall in the same manner, stood up, and then firmly pressed some part of the pillar again. Then, with a fluttering sensation, Fumiyo’s figure also vanished from sight. Had Detective Akechi, not to be outdone by the Mysterious Old Man, invented a means to make human bodies transparent? No, that was not the case. That wall was a "rotating wall mechanism." When the hidden button on the pillar was pressed, an electric mechanism caused it to swiftly flip around, and anyone clinging to that wall was also concealed on the other side along with it. And inside it was a secret room that no one knew about.

Detective Akechi and Ms. Fumiyo entered the secret room, but what they did there remains unknown.

We will keep that a secret from you, dear readers, until much later. It was unclear what they did, but about twenty minutes later, the two of them reappeared from within the wall. The wall spun around twice, and Akechi and Ms. Fumiyo emerged. “Alright, I’m off to the Metropolitan Police Department.”

Detective Akechi exited the room after saying that. Ms. Fumiyo saw him off to the entrance.

The Famous Detective's Peril

When Detective Akechi exited the front entrance, the automobile he always called was waiting out front. The driver was also a man with a familiar face. When Akechi sat down in the passenger seat and ordered, “To the Metropolitan Police Department,” the automobile immediately started moving.

After turning about three street corners, they came upon a quiet residential district lined with walls on both sides. When they had passed about halfway through the residential district, suddenly, from an alley right in front of them, a bicycle came darting out. Strangely, there was no one riding the bicycle. It was just the bicycle itself that had come darting out with tremendous force. The driver frantically slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. Akechi’s automobile collided with the side of the bicycle with a terrible crash. The bicycle that had been sent flying suddenly soared into the air, and by the time it landed on the ground, both its frame and wheels were twisted and mangled.

The front of the automobile was also badly damaged, and with some part of the machinery apparently broken, it came to a complete stop right then and there.

Due to the automobile’s sudden stop, Akechi lurched forward and nearly smashed his face. He wasn’t injured.

The driver got out of the automobile and peered into the alley from which the bicycle had darted out. The fact that an unridden bicycle had come running all by itself was so strange that he couldn’t help himself. Even more strangely, there was no one in the alley who seemed to be the bicycle’s owner. Only a beggar-like man in his thirties, dressed in tattered clothes, could be seen staggering toward them from far down the alley.

“Hey, were you riding this bicycle?” The driver waited for the vagrant to approach before snapping at him. “Wasn’t me.” The vagrant answered with a bewildered look.

“That’s weird.” “There’s no one else but you here!” “Didn’t you see this bicycle moving?”

“I saw it.” “I was watching from over there.” “Then where did the guy riding the bicycle go?” “Did he escape over there?”

“Nah.” “He didn’t run.” “Wasn’t there from the start.”

The vagrant said something strange.

“He wasn’t there? Then how could the bicycle move?”

“Even though no one was riding it, the bicycle was moving all by itself.” “It’s a strange thing, and I was watching it in wonder too.” Upon hearing this, the driver shuddered. And when he instinctively turned around, there stood Detective Akechi, who had emerged from the automobile. The two of them exchanged glances and nodded in unison. This driver, of course, knew about the Transparent Monster. Moreover, Akechi’s going to the Metropolitan Police Department was also something he had inferred to be related to that case.

"So then, the Transparent Monster was riding that bicycle just now," the driver said. "And it jumped off here in this alley to intentionally collide with your automobile." The driver stared at Akechi with a frightened expression. The famous detective nodded slightly in response but remained silent. Though inwardly astonished at how quickly the Mysterious Old Man—who had just called—had already begun such mischief, he showed no trace of it on his face.

If the Transparent Monster had been riding it—and since that opponent was invisible—there would be no way to pursue or capture him. The driver, having no alternative, made the vagrant help move the wrecked bicycle to the roadside and inspected the automobile’s front machinery, but clicked his tongue in frustration,

“I’ll go and call for a replacement car.” “It doesn’t look like it’ll be fixed anytime soon.” he said resignedly. Just at that moment, an automobile came crawling into view from ahead. It appeared to be returning from dropping off a passenger somewhere, with a “For Hire” sign displayed. “Mr. Akechi, a For Hire car has come at just the right time.” “Let’s take that one.”

Since the driver had hailed that automobile, Akechi ended up getting into it without a second thought. Even the famous detective had never dreamed that such a thing could possibly occur. The automobile seemed slightly too luxurious for a taxi. From the outside, it didn't appear particularly unusual, but the seats inside were upholstered with fresh fabric, and their shape was somehow different from that of an ordinary automobile.

When he stated the destination, the automobile sped off at terrifying speed. As they turned several street corners, the surroundings gradually grew desolate, and before they knew it, they came upon a wide open field.

“Hey driver, aren’t you taking the wrong road? We shouldn’t be passing through an open field like this on the way to the Metropolitan Police Department.” When Akechi called out, the driver, still facing forward, let out a strange laugh.

“Ehehehe... You’ve only just noticed now, have you? For a famous detective, you’re a bit slow on the uptake, huh?” And just as the automobile came to a stop, the driver turned around with a grunt, and the muzzle of a black pistol was aimed at Akechi’s chest. However, something even more terrifying was glaring fixedly in this direction. Even Akechi couldn’t help but shudder when he caught sight of it.

The driver’s face was a wax doll. The two eyes were hollow and black—it was a wax mask with the face of a Westerner, ghostly pale and translucent. This automobile, disguised as a taxi, was actually the Mysterious Old Man’s car. They had caused a bicycle to collide with Akechi’s automobile, rendering it immobile, then, when he was stranded, made an empty taxi pass by to naturally induce him to board this vehicle. The famous detective had fallen completely into the Mysterious Old Man’s trap.

However, Akechi showed no sign of panic and remained leaning against the cushion, steadily staring at the wax mask. If there was even the slightest opening, he must have been thinking of turning the tables and capturing his opponent.

However, at that moment, yet another strange thing occurred. The back of the cushion against which Akechi was leaning began to move forward with a creak. Startled, he turned around to see a human face suddenly pop out from the gap created by the moving cushion like a jack-in-the-box puppet. Moreover, that face was none other than that eerie wax mask. Along with the wax mask, a hand slid out gripping a pistol. And the muzzle of the pistol was pressed against Akechi's back.

There were two enemies. Moreover, both were wax-masked Transparent Monsters. One was thrusting a pistol from the front driver's seat, and the other from behind the cushion, each aiming their weapon. These two wax-masked figures were probably Transparent Human No. 1 and No. 2, created by the Mysterious Old Man.

Even the famous detective could no longer do anything. Even if he shouted, there was no one around—just a vast, open field. If he resisted, pistol bullets would fly out from the front and back. Under these circumstances, there was nothing to do but remain still and leave himself at the mercy of the enemy. “Ehehehe... Detective, this is divine punishment for ignoring our leader’s kind telephone warning.” “Even the great Detective couldn’t match our leader’s wisdom.” “Poor thing, you can’t lift a finger now, huh.” “Ehehehehe...”

The wax mask in the driver’s seat once again let out an unpleasant laugh. However, while the laughter came only from the voice, the waxen face maintained a vacant expression and did not laugh at all. That made it all the eerier. The one in the back remained still, pressing the pistol’s muzzle against Akechi’s back, while the one disguised as the driver eventually stepped over the partition between the driver’s seat and came into this side. And the pale wax mask drew right up close before Akechi’s eyes.

“I’ll put you through a bit of a tight spot.” “Now now—just endure this briefly.”

No sooner had he said this than Akechi Kogorō's field of vision went completely dark. He had been blindfolded with a black cloth. Then he felt something like a thin cord being wrapped tightly around his body. And as that thin cord gradually tightened, he became completely unable to move his hands or feet. Ah, the famous detective Akechi Kogorō had finally fallen into the enemy's clutches.

Transparent Monster No. 5 Blindfolded as he was, everything that followed could only be sensed through his body, but the automobile started moving again, drove for about twenty minutes, and came to a stop in some unknown location. Detective Akechi’s body was carried out of the automobile by the two Transparent Monsters, taken into a spacious building, led through a long corridor, and thrown into a large armchair in one of the rooms.

The two Transparent Monsters seemed to leave the room as they were, and after a period of utter silence, just as it felt like someone was approaching, the black blindfold was abruptly snatched away.

“Heh heh heh… Akechi, you’ve landed yourself in quite a mess.” “I’d been wanting to meet you.” “But I must admit—this reunion came sooner than expected.”

That was the aforementioned Mysterious Old Man. A pure white head, a white beard reaching down to his chest, a nose as high as an eagle’s, sharp eyes—and upon those eyes glittered the aforementioned square frameless glasses. Clad in a voluminous black gown that hung like a monk’s robe around his body, with both hands clasped behind his back and standing slightly hunched forward, his figure exuded the aura of an ancient sorcerer whose depths could never be fathomed. The room was a spacious Western-style chamber that had likely been splendid in its day, but now lay utterly ruined, devoid of any trace of its former glory—a faintly ominous space that felt as abandoned as an empty house. Apart from the table and chairs, there were no other furnishings, with an old-fashioned large fireplace set into one wall being the sole decoration.

The Mysterious Old Man continued talking while pacing back and forth in front of the armchair where Akechi had collapsed. "I do not lie. I had given you a proper warning over the phone. You dismissed that as nonsense and tried to go to the Metropolitan Police Department, so you immediately ended up in this predicament. Now you understand my power, do you not? Well now, Mr. Akechi—won’t you say something?"

Akechi remained silent and glared at the old man. His hands and feet were tightly bound, leaving him unfortunately powerless to act. No matter what was said to him, he could only endure. “Mr. Akechi, you know of my grand ambition, do you not? It is to turn humans transparent one by one. A hundred, a thousand, ten thousand—I intend to create a massive group of transparent humans! Just imagine it. A massive group of completely invisible humans will run rampant throughout all of Japan—no, all of the world. An invincible Transparent Army! Ah, just thinking about that makes me so happy it sends shivers down my spine.”

The Mysterious Old Man paced back and forth in front of Akechi, babbling outlandish things as though delirious with fever. “However, I must hurry. If I’m careless, nuisances like you will appear.” “I’ve only created four transparent humans so far.” “No.1, No.2, No.3, No.4—this No.4, as you know, is a child.” “I turned that cheeky kid Daibō into a transparent being.”

“Now then, who do you think will be No.5? Heh heh heh... Akechi-kun, do you know? It’s none other than you. The great detective Akechi Kogorō shall become Transparent Human No.5! A transparent version of the famous detective will be born! And you’ll be demoted to my subordinate! Do you understand? No, not just you! Who shall be No.6? Who will become No.7? Inspector Nakamura, that journalist Kurokawa, even your precious Kobayashi boy—anyone who resists me will be turned transparent!”

“Bwahahaha... Amusing, most amusing! I never realized until this very moment what a delightful thing my invention could be! Oh, Mr. Akechi—aren’t you frightened? You’ll soon vanish completely, you know. Become transparent like air itself! The Air Detective! The Transparent Detective! Bwahahaha... Even the great Akechi-sensei is helpless now, isn’t he? Bwahaha...”

The Mysterious Old Man continued to laugh with a madman-like cackle, as though he found the situation unbearably amusing.

Ah, had our famous detective truly been defeated by the Mysterious Old Man? Was he fated to fall into the Mysterious Old Man's clutches and be turned transparent? Akechi maintained his calm silence no matter how much the old man laughed at him. Did he not seem almost too composed? Could it be that he possessed confidence to defeat the Mysterious Old Man when the crucial moment arrived?

Our Akechi Kogorō must possess unfathomably profound wisdom. There might be some tremendous strategy that we’re completely unaware of. He might have prepared a final trump card so astonishing it would leave one breathless.

Red Clown

Since something seemed off, when Inspector Nakamura called Akechi’s office to check, he was told that the detective had left by car a full hour earlier.

Since something seemed amiss, Inspector Nakamura called Akechi's office, only to be told that the detective had departed by car a full hour earlier.

When Inspector Nakamura relayed this, Kurokawa and young Kobayashi instinctively exchanged glances. "From the detective agency to here, it should only take fifteen minutes by car." "That's strange... Maybe something happened on the way... Could it be... could the Transparent Monster have done something to Mr. Akechi?"

When Kurokawa said that, young Kobayashi, worried about his teacher, could no longer stay still. "I'll go to the office and look into the driver of the car that took Mr. Akechi," he said, suddenly trying to bolt from the room. "Wait," said Kurokawa. "It's dangerous for you to go alone. I'll go too. Inspector Nakamura, why don't you come with us as well?"

When Kurokawa the journalist looked at Inspector Nakamura’s face, the inspector nodded and stood up. Then Inspector Nakamura, Kurokawa the journalist, and young Kobayashi boarded a car and hurried to the Akechi Detective Agency within Chiyoda Ward. By that time, night had fully fallen.

“Okay, stop here. Turn off the headlights and wait here for a while.” Inspector Nakamura ordered the driver. He intentionally had the car stopped some distance away from the office. This was always his habit. Through this approach, he had often obtained valuable clues in the past. Through the dark town dotted with vacant lots like missing teeth, the three of them walked quietly, careful not to let their footsteps make a sound.

At that moment, something strange happened. From the darkness ahead, a reddish something appeared faintly, wasn’t there?

As the three instinctively stopped and stared in that direction, the reddish thing gradually drew closer. As it drew closer, its form became clearer—it was a sandwich-board man wearing a gaudy clown costume. A red and white checkered baggy clown suit, a matching checkered pointed hat, a face painted pure white with rouge circles on both cheeks. On his chest and back, he wore a large advertising board from some shop.

In this deserted residential district with no passersby, on such a pitch-black night, having a sandwich-board man walking about gave an undeniably strange feeling. But what was even stranger was that no sooner had the red clown swayed unsteadily up to Inspector Nakamura than he suddenly thrust a flyer right before the inspector's eyes. Inspector Nakamura stood dumbfounded, glaring at the clown, but then reconsidered and accepted the flyer that had been thrust at him. Then, without another word, the clown turned and disappeared somewhere. The red clown costume melted away into the darkness as if dissolving into it.

Inspector Nakamura went to a nearby streetlight and tried reading the flyer. It was not a printed advertisement but something like a pen-written letter.

Akechi Kogorō is currently being turned into a transparent human somewhere. The famous detective's body is steadily, bit by bit, becoming transparent like glass. Those who interfere will all be turned into transparent humans! You all had better watch out.

“Chase that guy! Catch that clown right now!”

Inspector Nakamura shouted wildly and ran back the way they had come. Journalist Kurokawa and young Kobayashi followed behind him without understanding why. As they ran, Inspector Nakamura shared the flyer's contents with them. "So Mr. Akechi really was taken somewhere by the Transparent Monster after all?" Kobayashi cried out while running. "That's right," Kurokawa panted. "And that clown we saw might have been a Transparent Monster too. Inspector Nakamura—did you notice his face? Those eyes were just black holes. The face didn't move at all. That was a wax mask—they'd painted white makeup over a wax mask!"

Kurokawa the journalist also shouted, gasping for breath as he ran. When they returned to the car with its headlights off and peered inside, the driver’s figure was nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone? The three stopped and looked around.

A Mysterious Swift Maneuver

Then they noticed the driver standing at the street corner ahead. He was beckoning them over. Even though he was called a driver, he was still a police officer, so perhaps he had seen the strange clown pass by and followed after it. When the three rushed over there, the driver pointed to a public telephone booth beyond the street corner and said in a hushed voice:

"He ran inside there. Look! Even from here, you can see him." There was a streetlight next to the public telephone, so the glass-enclosed interior was faintly visible. There, a human figure resembling a clown was writhing.

“Surround him from all sides without being noticed.” Under Inspector Nakamura’s direction, Kurokawa, young Kobayashi, and the driver approached the public telephone booth from all directions, each keeping to the shadows as if merging with them. Young Kobayashi, agile as a squirrel, was first to dash up to the booth and quietly peer inside through the glass window.

As expected, inside the booth was the red clown from earlier. Still wearing his checkered pointed hat, he remained slightly hunched at the waist, facing their direction. His pure white face pressed against the glass as he stared fixedly toward them.

It was indeed a wax mask. Its two eyes were black voids. Neither its eyebrows nor its mouth moved even a fraction. This was not the face of any living human.

By then, the other three had already surrounded the public telephone booth from three sides. Inspector Nakamura stood before the entrance door. The red clown had now become a cornered rat. No matter what happened now, there was no chance he could escape. Inspector Nakamura grasped the door handle and tried to open it, but for some reason, it wouldn’t budge an inch. There was no way the public telephone door could be locked. The clown, in desperation, might have rigged the door so it wouldn’t open.

“Hey! Open this! You can’t escape now!” “If you don’t open it, I’ll break it down!”

Inspector Nakamura shouted in a loud voice so it could be heard through the glass. Then, the clown’s face swayed unsteadily as it turned toward them, and its two black hole-like eyes stared fixedly at Inspector Nakamura through the glass. “Heh heh heh… I can get away. I’ll show you I can escape. Go ahead and try to smash it down.”

A faint voice could be heard from inside the glass. The clown's mouth didn't move at all because it was part of the wax mask. Only the voice leaked through.

Being challenged by a cornered rat like this was more than he could endure. Inspector Nakamura suddenly body-slammed the door. A crash of shattering glass rang out. The flimsy door’s hinges gave way instantly. Then, as Inspector Nakamura and the driver pulled the broken door outward, the clown remained standing in its original spot all the while, letting out a thin, eerie laugh—"Heh heh heh…"

He made no move to escape whatsoever. It was the driver police officer who suddenly lunged at the clown. He lunged forward with terrifying force, but the moment he did so, he let out a cry of “Ah!” and collapsed into the back of the public telephone booth.

The clown was nothing but garments; there was no body. The driver struck empty air and collapsed. "What happened?!" "Th-this thing... it's just clothes." The driver finally got back up and pulled at the red clown costume to show them. Under the pointed hat was a wax mask, beneath which were attached a clown costume and signboard, while the hat itself hung suspended by a string from the telephone booth's ceiling. Until just moments ago, the one who had been talking and laughing became nothing but clothes in an instant.

What a mystifyingly swift trick! In the brief moment they were pulling out the broken door, the Transparent Monster had fled, leaving behind only its hat, mask, and costume. Once it stripped off the garment and became naked—being an invisible Transparent Monster—no matter how much they flailed about, they couldn’t lay a hand on it. Even if they had been right beside it, they couldn’t have captured it.

“There! That way! “It went that way!”

Reporter Kurokawa was running into the darkness while shouting. The remaining three, startled, followed after him. “Heh heh heh... Scamper scamper...” From the darkness about twenty meters ahead, the Transparent Monster’s voice echoed. Then the voice grew fainter with each word, fading into the distance as if disappearing.

“It’s no use chasing anymore. Mr. Kurokawa, let’s give up.” Having said that, Inspector Nakamura returned to the public telephone booth. He was taking back the clown costume and other items as evidence. Inspector Nakamura cut the hanging string, rolled up the pointed hat, mask, and clown costume, and tucked them under his arm—but then he suddenly noticed a single piece of paper lying on the floor of the public telephone booth. It was no mere scrap of paper. There seemed to be some writing on it. Inspector Nakamura hurriedly picked it up, held it under the streetlight, and tried to read it.

You’d better watch out for Mrs. Akechi. Transparent Human No. 6 will target that beautiful Mrs. Fumiyo.

Kobayashi, who had quickly noticed the inspector’s unusual state, drew near his side and peered at the scrap of paper. When he read those dreadful words, overwhelmed with anxiety, he suddenly clutched at the inspector’s arm. “Quick! Hurry! Mrs. Akechi’s in danger!” “To the office—quickly!”

Shadow of the Curse

Some time later, in the spacious reception room of the Akechi Detective Agency, Inspector Nakamura, Reporter Kurokawa, and Kobayashi sat in their respective chairs surrounding Mrs. Fumiyo Akechi. Since the reception room was located on the first floor facing the road, they had closed the curtains and kept only a large floor lamp lit, deliberately leaving the room dimly lit. Mrs. Fumiyo was leaning against the round table, talking about something.

“After receiving that phone call earlier, I summoned the driver of the car that had brought Akechi here and questioned him. There can no longer be any doubt—Akechi was abducted.” “The taxi that appeared at that moment was actually the villains’ vehicle.”

And Mrs. Fumiyo recounted the events of that time in detail.

“What was the license plate number of that suspicious taxi?”

Inspector Nakamura interjected.

“Regrettably, the driver says he was so preoccupied with repairing his own automobile that he didn’t see the number.”

“I see. Anyway, I’ll inform headquarters about the taxi’s color and model and have all jurisdictions put out an alert.” Inspector Nakamura immediately picked up the desk phone and, while listening to Mrs. Fumiyo relay the taxi’s model and color, efficiently completed the necessary arrangements. And just as he set down the receiver—

As though lying in wait, the telephone began to ring. Kobayashi swiftly grabbed the receiver and pressed it to his ear, but the instant he heard the voice on the other end, his face went pale. And, “It’s a strange voice. Please listen,” he said and handed the receiver to Inspector Nakamura. “Hey! What are you dawdling for? Isn’t Mrs. Fumiyo there? I’ve got business with Mrs. Fumiyo.”

A strange, hoarse voice was shouting bluntly. “Who on earth are you?”

Inspector Nakamura asked calmly. “It doesn’t matter who—if Mrs. Fumiyo comes out, she’ll understand. Why don’t you let Mrs. Fumiyo come out already?” “If you don’t give your name, I can’t transfer the call. State your name.” “And who might you be? There shouldn’t be any men at the Akechi Detective Agency right now.” “I am Nakamura of the Metropolitan Police Department. I’ve just met your sandwich-board clown as well. I’ve certainly seen the threatening letter too.”

“Bwahaha... So it's Inspector Demon Nakamura, is it? “The Transparent Monsters are giving you trouble, aren’t they? “I am the creator of those Transparent Monsters. “Even the great detective Akechi Kogorō is like a child when up against me. “Right now, I’m in the middle of surgery. “By tomorrow, he should be completely transparent. “Now, as for the next target—I’ve decided on Mrs. Fumiyo. “It would be too pitiful to leave the wife all alone after making only her husband transparent. “Do you understand? “I’ll be coming to collect Mrs. Fumiyo tonight. “No matter how hard you struggle, Inspector Demon, we’ll be using invisible Transparent Humans, you see. “You don’t stand a chance at all. “Well then, give my regards to Mrs. Fumiyo. “So long. “Wait a minute. “Just so you don’t have to scramble investigating, I’ll tell you—this call’s from a public phone in Shibuya. “I came all the way from my hideout to the opposite direction just to make this call. “Well then, Mr. Demon Inspector, so long.”

The other party spoke alone and hung up without another word. Needless to say, it was the usual square-spectacled Mysterious Old Man. Even the formidable Inspector Nakamura, having been monologued at relentlessly just as the caller had wanted, bit his lip in frustration and replaced the receiver.

At last, it became clear that Mrs. Fumiyo was being targeted, and so discussions began on how to protect her. They finalized the following arrangements: Kobayashi would stay constantly by Mrs. Fumiyo’s side; both Inspector Nakamura and Kurokawa would remain overnight at the Akechi Detective Agency; three skilled detectives from headquarters would be summoned by phone to guard the house interior; and several police officers would be requested via phone call to patrol around the detective office. Having settled these measures, they finished making the respective calls.

“Mrs. Fumiyo，there’s no need to worry．With all these arrangements in place，it should be safe for now．Moreover，the three of us will stay close by your side and protect you without fail．” When Inspector Nakamura said this，the composed Mrs．Fumiyo answered valiantly without changing her complexion．

“Thank you very much. “With this, I too feel reassured.” “But we must rescue Akechi.” “I’m more worried about that than myself.”

“We’re aware of that too.” “At the investigation headquarters, besides me, there are many section chiefs.” “There are skilled detectives.” “Moreover, police stations across Tokyo are joining forces.” “We’ll definitely rescue him.”

Inspector Nakamura declared emphatically as if to encourage Mrs. Fumiyo.

At that moment.

The window with its curtains tightly drawn lit up brightly as if struck by lightning. Since that window faced the main road, passing cars would sometimes hit it with their headlights when turning corners at intersections, causing such brightness to occur. Neither Mrs. Fumiyo nor Kobayashi paid any mind to what they assumed were headlights, but for some reason, the pure white light remained motionless, continuing to illuminate the window.

Just as they were thinking it strange, a hazy shadow began to appear on the whitened curtain.

Oh, once again—that terrifying monster’s shadow. Tangled wild hair; an eagle-like nose; a gaping mouth shaped like a crescent moon—it was the profile of the Transparent Monster. The monster’s naked upper torso, three times the size of an ordinary human, squirmed blackly across the curtain. “Eh-heh-heh-heh….”

From beyond the glass came a faintly unnerving, derisive laugh. "Damn it!"

With a clatter of the chair, Kurokawa stood up. And, like a bullet, he lunged toward the curtain where the shadow was cast.

The Second Clown Even when he opened the window, following precedent, the shadow's owner remained completely unseen. Kurokawa clicked his tongue in frustration and had no choice but to return to his seat.

When it came to around ten o'clock that night, Mrs. Fumiyo got into bed in her bedroom, Kobayashi went to his own bedroom on the left side, and Inspector Nakamura and Kurokawa withdrew to the guest bedroom on the right side of Mrs. Fumiyo’s room. The three detectives, prepared for an all-night vigil, were stationed with two in the backyard and one at the entrance.

It was a lonely mansion district to begin with. As night deepened, distant sounds died away until the entire vicinity fell into complete silence, as if it had entered a vast forest.

Past midnight, nearing one o'clock, a rather inexplicable and peculiar incident occurred outside the backyard of the detective agency. The detective agency doubled as Akechi’s residence, its approximately 100-square-meter backyard beautifully planted with various trees. The two detectives had brought chairs to sit beneath a densely grown hinoki tree, keeping watch through gaps in the branches. They weren’t merely sitting. Occasionally one would rise from his chair and step beyond the wall to inspect the road.

At the boundary between the backyard and the road stood a low concrete wall with an entrance gate built into it. Outside the wall stood a streetlight, its light faintly illuminating even into the garden. Just now, one detective stood up from his chair, crossed the garden, opened the gate, and stepped out onto the road outside—but no sooner had he emerged than he froze in shock.

Given it was a lonely backstreet district, he had convinced himself no one would pass through at this late hour—yet there, right beside the streetlight pole across the way, stood something uncanny. It was a large, doll-like figure clad in a bright red kimono.

The detective and the doll-like figure stood about twenty meters apart, continuing to glare at each other for some time. As he stared intently, it became clear that this was not a doll but a living human—a man wearing a red and white checkered clown costume. “Ah! That’s him.” “That must be the clown who disappeared inside the public telephone booth earlier this evening.”

The detective realized it in an instant and suddenly lunged toward the clown—but at that very moment, the clown had already broken into a desperate sprint. He was ridiculously fast. The detective took out his police whistle while running and blew a piercing... The other detective in the backyard heard this and rushed out, but there was already a fifty-meter gap between him and the first detective. There was no way they could catch up.

The first detective felt crushing disappointment at potentially letting the clown escape again. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself to a desperate sprint. Yet the opponent ran even faster. Just as they passed their third street corner, the fleeing clown suddenly froze mid-stride. Ahead in the darkness shone a flashlight beam like some monstrous eyeball. Two uniformed police officers stood revealed. The officers guarding this district had heard the whistle and now blocked the clown's escape route.

“Got him!” The detective cried out inwardly as he suddenly closed in on the clown. With a flawless judo maneuver, he slammed his opponent to the ground in one swift motion, then straddled him like a rider on horseback. “You’re the Transparent Monster! This time, I won’t let you escape!” And then, trying to peel off the clown’s wax mask, he grabbed at its face—only to discover it wasn’t a mask at all, but a real human face.

“Oh! So you’re not a transparent human after all?” “That’s not it! I’m Benimaru from the chindon troupe! You’ve got the wrong man! I didn’t do anything wrong! Let me go...!” The pinned-down clown wailed through his sobs.

“Then why were you standing there in the middle of the night?” “I was told to.” “You were told to? Who told you to do what?” “I don’t know who it was. It was a gentleman I met on the street about three hours ago. He gave me a 5,000 yen bill. And he told me to stand outside the wall of that house. He said that when a police officer comes there, if someone comes out from inside the wall, I should make a break for it. So for 5,000 yen, it seemed like a good deal, so I agreed.”

When they shone the flashlight on him for a closer look, this chindon performer truly did have an utterly foolish face. Blinded by the 5,000 yen, it seemed plausible enough that he had taken on such a trivial role.

However, if what this man said was true, for what purpose had that gentleman made such a request? The detective tilted his head. “Anyway, let’s take him to Inspector Nakamura’s place. There’s something fishy going on here.”

The other detective who had arrived later whispered into the ear of the detective straddling the clown. Thereupon, the first detective finally stood up, helped the chindon performer to his feet, and briskly turned back the way they had come, still gripping his wrist tightly. The other detective and two police officers also followed after them.

They had backtracked about three hundred meters and were approaching the detective agency’s back entrance when they found Reporter Kurokawa waiting there.

“What’s going on? It was rather noisy, so I woke up and came out here to see what was going on.”

“Ah, Mr. Kurokawa? This guy’s a real troublemaker. He said someone told him to stand there. Since I’d heard about the clown from this evening, I was certain it was the Transparent Monster and gave chase. This guy’s a fast-running idiot who had us sweating buckets.” After the detective had finished explaining everything that had just happened, he added, “After all, I thought we should have Inspector Nakamura investigate him once, so I brought him along.”

“Yeah, Inspector Nakamura must have been thoroughly exhausted—he’s sleeping soundly. That’s why I came out alone without waking him, but in that case, let’s wake Inspector Nakamura and have him come here.”

Having said that, Reporter Kurokawa disappeared into the depths of the back garden.

However, when Reporter Kurokawa went inside the house, he discovered that an utterly astonishing and unprecedented incident had occurred there. The Mysterious Old Man, the sorcerer, had once again unleashed terrifying magic.

Black Issun-bōshi

Now shifting focus, we come to Mrs. Akechi Fumiyo. Having bid everyone goodnight and entered her bedroom, she found herself utterly unable to sleep, gripped by the thought that tonight might finally be when the Transparent Monster came to abduct her. Still fully dressed in her daytime clothes, she lay sprawled across the bed staring vacantly into space. Though she took some comfort knowing Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa occupied the room to her right while young Kobayashi stayed in the left-side chamber—reasoning that should anything suspicious occur, she need only cry out for immediate assistance—an indefinable anxiety nevertheless kept sleep firmly at bay.

At that moment, from somewhere in the back came a piercing whistle. It sounded like a police officer's whistle. This was the same whistle one of the detectives had blown while chasing the clown-suited man, but Mrs. Fumiyo didn't realize this. However, wondering if something had happened—if the Transparent Monster might be trying to sneak in—her heart suddenly began to race. Fumiyo involuntarily sat up on the bed and strained her ears.

Then, as if the police whistle had been a signal, the entrance door slid open without a sound. Startled, when she looked, outside the opened door stood Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa with an imposing air. When Fumiyo, startled, tried to say something, both men raised their fingers to their lips in a gesture that said, "Quiet." And with their other hands, they kept beckoning to her.

Fumiyo felt as though she were dreaming. Urgently beckoned by their frantic gestures, she got off the bed and—fortunately still dressed in her daytime clothes—approached the two men at the entrance just as she was.

“It’s dangerous to stay here. I’ll take you to a safe place. We need to hurry. I’ll explain everything properly later.”

Inspector Nakamura pressed his mouth to Fumiyo’s ear and whispered urgently. Then Fumiyo was pulled by both hands toward the backyard before she could even process what was happening.

At that very moment, outside the concrete wall at the back, yet another bizarre occurrence was unfolding. The two detectives had left the rear gate wide open after chasing the clown when a small black shadow slid through it at blinding speed. Keeping to the wall's shadow, it scurried nimbly away in the direction opposite to where the clown had fled.

After running about a hundred meters, it came upon a car stopped at the street corner there. Inside was only a single driver. The headlights were turned off, and the interior light wasn't on either, making the driver's figure nearly impossible to distinguish. The Issun-bōshi-like black shadow was holding something like a square tin can in its hand. Then, as the black shadow approached the rear of the automobile, it appeared to slip beneath the vehicle's undercarriage—but only for a brief moment—before soon leaving the car and swiftly concealing itself in the shadow of a nearby utility pole. Strangely, at that moment, the tin can had disappeared from the black shadow's hand.

No sooner had the shadow of Issun-bōshi hidden behind the utility pole than three adult shadows came hurrying over from the direction of the detective agency. The one in the middle appeared to be a woman. The two men walked flanking her on both sides. Then, as they approached the automobile, they suddenly opened the door and filed inside one after another.

Then, the automobile, with its engine rumbling, smoothly slid out and, in the blink of an eye, vanished into the darkness. The headlights remained off.

As if seeing it off, from the shadow of the utility pole emerged the same Issun-bōshi-like black shadow as before, which immediately started running toward the detective agency. With swiftness too fast for the eye to follow, it scurried nimbly and slipped through the small gate in the concrete wall back into the detective agency's garden. At that moment, the streetlight's glare vividly illuminated the face that had abruptly glanced back. That was Kobayashi, the boy detective. It was Kobayashi—nimble as a squirrel—the leader of the Boy Detectives Club.

Kobayashi had crawled under that automobile—what had he done? And what on earth had been that tin can-like object Kobayashi had been carrying?

In truth, Kobayashi’s mysterious actions would become the foundation for the Boy Detectives Club’s grand exploits, but that is a story for much later.

The scene shifted abruptly to the interior of the suspicious automobile that had vanished into the darkness. In its seat sat Mrs. Akechi Fumiyo, flanked on both sides by Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa. The three black shadows that had boarded the car before Kobayashi's eyes earlier were none other than these individuals. No sooner had the automobile begun moving than Fumiyo let out a piercing scream—"Agh!" Then she suddenly started thrashing violently.

No wonder. Because Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa, whom she had believed were there to protect her, had begun committing a horrifying act. Kurokawa was reaching around from behind Mrs. Fumiyo’s neck, attempting to gag her with what looked like a hand towel. He meant to stifle any cries. Meanwhile, Inspector Nakamura was pinning her body down with crushing force to immobilize her completely.

With two grown men attacking from both sides, the frail Mrs. Fumiyo could do nothing. In an instant, she was gagged and went completely limp. What on earth was happening? The very inspector from the Metropolitan Police Department and journalist from the major newspaper who had stayed at the detective agency to protect Mrs. Fumiyo had now become terrifying enemies, trying to take her away somewhere. Had these two been put under the Mysterious Old Man’s magic? And had they suddenly become henchmen of the Mysterious Old Man?

After gagging Mrs. Fumiyo’s mouth, Reporter Kurokawa rose from the seat and grasped the automobile door.

“Alright then. I’m counting on you.”

After leaving those words with Inspector Nakamura, he flung open the door. Then, the driver, sensing the situation, sharply reduced the car’s speed. Waiting for that, Reporter Kurokawa nimbly leaped down into the darkness.

And so, Ms. Fumiyo was taken away to some unknown place. Just where on earth was that destination? And why on earth did Inspector Nakamura and Reporter Kurokawa commit such evil deeds? Moreover, what on earth did it mean that Kobayashi, knowing full well what was happening, neither helped Ms. Fumiyo nor did anything but attach that strange tin can-like object under the automobile’s body?

Those secrets remained sealed in darkness. However, the time would soon come when all would be revealed. And that was not very far off.

Now, the story shifted once more to another mysterious incident that had occurred that night in a different location.

The Gutter-Crawling Man

Just as Ms. Fumiyo was being loaded into the mysterious automobile and carried off to who-knows-where, two patrol officers were making their rounds through a desolate spot in the southern part of Minato Ward—a lonely place surrounded by burnt fields.

“Houses just aren’t being built around here at all, huh?”

“Yeah, this is the most unpleasant spot in our precinct. Especially that burnt building over there—it’s somehow... this unfathomable structure. The occupants keep changing constantly. Around here, there are even rumors it’s a haunted house.” “Huh, a haunted house? It’s exactly those kinds of places villains exploit.”

“That’s right.” “That’s why I’ve always been paying special attention to that building…” “Hey! Something’s moving.” “Look! That black thing is gradually coming down the corner of the burnt building.”

The two froze in their tracks, startled.

It was a three-story burnt building that loomed menacingly like a hulking black specter over the scorched field. The exterior was a grimy structure with its ornamental bricks peeling away, but the interior appeared maintained, serving as an office for some company where the caretaker’s family was apparently staying overnight. When they looked, the third-floor window of that building had opened, and someone must have exited from there. A man was slowly making his way down a long gutter. In the depths of midnight, this figure crawling along the gutter of a burnt building presented an utterly bizarre sight. Since people living in buildings wouldn’t use gutters to climb down, one could only conclude this man must be a burglar.

The two police officers stealthily approached the building so as not to be noticed by the other party. The man crawling along the gutter descended smoothly and nimbly, just like an acrobat. He didn't seem to notice the police officers lying in wait below at all.

The man abruptly released his hands about two meters above the ground and jumped down onto the bushes. Then, as he staggered slightly, a police officer suddenly grappled him from behind. "You bastard, who are you? What did you do in this house?" The officer locked the suspicious man in an armlock and shouted. "Shh! Lower your voice."

The man showed not the slightest panic. In a tone like a superior reprimanding a subordinate, he silenced the police officer, then hurried away from the building while still caught in the armlock.

And after walking about a hundred meters and arriving at the shadow of a barrack-style house, the suspicious man said in an ordinary voice, “Oh—” “My apologies, my apologies. Sorry for troubling you. “By the way, don’t you recognize my face? “You have a flashlight, don’t you? “Then shine it on my face.”

The police officers did as they were told—they turned on their flashlight and shone it on the man’s face. Then, after staring for a while as if recalling something, they took a step back and spoke in a polite tone.

“Could you be Mr. Akechi? I believe I met you once at headquarters.”

“That’s correct. “I am Akechi Kogorō.” “But Mr. Akechi... What brings you to a place like this at this hour...?”

“There are various circumstances involved,” Akechi explained. “You must have heard by now that I was kidnapped by the leader of the Transparent Monsters. That building over there is actually their den of villains.” “Ah, so it was true after all,” the officer replied. “Then that means a whole group of Transparent Monsters is inside that building?” “Exactly,” Akechi confirmed. “I barely managed to slip out through the window, but if they discover my escape, they’ll flee immediately. We must act quickly. However, just the two of you won’t be enough to handle this. Could you urgently contact Inspector Nakamura at the Metropolitan Police Department? I want to coordinate our plans directly with him.”

“Understood. In that case, please come with us to the station for now. From there, we can call Inspector Nakamura’s residence. For my part, I must also report this to the superintendent.”

So the three of them hurried through the deserted midnight streets, nearly running, toward the police station not far away.

The Haunted Vacant House When inquiries were made by telephone from the police station to the Metropolitan Police Department, it was discovered that Inspector Nakamura, who was in charge of the Transparent Monster case, was staying at Akechi’s office. Another call was placed there, and arrangements were made for Inspector Nakamura to come immediately.

Before long, Inspector Nakamura arrived by car at the place where Police Superintendent and Detective Akechi were waiting, bringing two detectives with him. "Oh, Mr. Akechi—you're safe! Thank goodness." "Thank goodness." "So he's in that burnt building, right?"

Inspector Nakamura gripped the famous detective’s hand and expressed words of joy. “If they’ve noticed that I escaped，it’s probably already too late．However，have that building surrounded immediately．Of course，I’ll lead the way．”

Akechi returned the inspector’s handshake and replied. “Alright, let’s go. But you didn’t happen to meet your wife in that burnt building, did you?” “Huh? You mean your wife—Fumiyo?”

Akechi stared at the inspector in surprise.

“Yeah, I did something truly inexcusable. Fumiyo was kidnapped. I’ll explain the details later, but while Mr. Kurokawa, Kobayashi the boy, and I—the three of us—were protecting Fumiyo, someone made me drink coffee laced with sleeping pills. So while I was sound asleep, Fumiyo’s figure had vanished. But that’s not all. Mr. Kurokawa and Kobayashi the boy are nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the two might have gone after Fumiyo, but they hadn’t returned by the time I left. At that exact moment, the guards on watch had been lured away by a strange clown and had left your house’s back door. That’s when they took Ms. Fumiyo away.”

Inspector Nakamura still didn’t know that the fake Inspector Nakamura and journalist Kurokawa had taken Ms. Fumiyo away by automobile, nor that Kobayashi the boy had attached a tin can beneath that automobile.

“I had no idea.” “However, to avoid meeting me, they might have locked her away somewhere in that building.” “Hurry.” “We must rescue Fumiyo.”

Akechi took the lead and rushed out toward the police station entrance.

In less than ten minutes, the police force led by the Superintendent and Inspector Nakamura had entered the burnt building. Detective Akechi, as the guide, was advancing at the very front. The light from the flashlights that the police officers waved in their hands brightly illuminated every corner of the pitch-dark Western-style house like small searchlights. However, there were no human figures—of course—nor anything resembling tools. All the rooms were like vacant houses.

They searched thoroughly from the first floor to the second and third floors, but found nothing. There was no one. The interior of the large three-story building had become completely empty. The nimble Mysterious Old Man and his companions had abandoned this hideout and vanished without a trace.

Having nowhere left to search, the police force descended to the first floor. Akechi remained at the forefront, advancing through the pitch-black corridor when he abruptly halted, fixed his gaze on the darkness ahead, then suddenly broke into a sprint toward it.

When they turned one corner of the corridor, they were met with utter darkness. Within that darkness, they could sense something black fluttering faintly. Akechi lunged toward it.

A voice like "Whoa!" echoed, and a terrifying *bang* resounded. The flashlights of the police officers who had rushed after Akechi all illuminated the spot at once. Akechi was on top, pinning down something black. It was a human wearing something like a black, baggy overcoat. The figure tried to throw Akechi off and jerked his face upward with force. Ah, square glasses, a white beard—it was the Mysterious Old Man! The leader of demons. Akechi splendidly captured and subdued this formidable enemy.

There were many police officers here. Even if he tried to escape now, there was no way he could escape. The Mysterious Old Man was immediately handcuffed and dragged away. Why on earth had the Mysterious Old Man made such a blunder? There had been plenty of time to escape, so why had he lingered inside the building? And yet—even if he was supposed to be such a renowned detective—wasn't it strange that he had been captured so easily?

However, in their excitement over capturing the leader of the Transparent Monsters, no one noticed anything amiss. Immediately under Inspector Nakamura's orders, the Mysterious Old Man was loaded into an automobile and transported to the Metropolitan Police Department. And now at last, indescribably strange phenomena would begin to unfold in rapid succession.

The Boy Detective

The following day, in the afternoon. In the interrogation room of the Metropolitan Police Department, Inspector Nakamura, his superior Superintendent Shino, and Akechi Kogorō were seated around one side of a desk, while before them sat the handcuffed Mysterious Old Man, also on a chair, his head hanging low.

They had been interrogating him since morning, but since the Mysterious Old Man refused to answer anything, it had turned into a battle of wills—their standoff continued well past noon. "You said you're waiting for something, but what on earth are you waiting for? You've had enough time. Why don't you start talking?"

Superintendent Shino once again repeated the urging he had made many times before. “I have something to discuss with Mr. Akechi. That’s what I’m waiting for.”

The Mysterious Old Man answered in a low voice, his eyes still closed. “Mr. Akechi has been right here all along. “You, on earth…”

“No—the one I’m waiting for isn’t Mr. Akechi. I’m waiting for another person. However, I will never confess to anyone other than Mr. Akechi. So, Mr. Akechi, I want you to stay here without leaving your seat until the very end. If Mr. Akechi leaves his seat, I intend to say nothing.”

Superintendent Shino fell silent with a look of exasperation upon hearing this. Detective Akechi, having been told that much, could not leave the room. Once again, a silent standoff continued. Then, after about thirty minutes had passed, the entrance door opened and a police officer entered. The officer saluted the superintendent and inspector before approaching Akechi. “Mr. Akechi, there’s a child named Kobayashi here who says he wants to see you. Would you like to meet him over there?”

the police officer asked. Then, before Akechi could answer, the Mysterious Old Man suddenly opened his mouth and, “Please send Kobayashi in here.” “The one I’ve been waiting for is that boy.” he barked.

“No, I can’t allow that.” “I have a confidential matter to discuss with Kobayashi-kun.” “Excuse me for a moment.”

As Akechi said this and tried to stand up, Inspector Nakamura stopped him for some reason. “Mr. Akechi, please do not leave your seat. Otherwise, the interrogation won’t proceed smoothly. You—never mind that—bring young Kobayashi here. Hurry up.” The police officer bowed and left. Soon after, outside the door came the sound of many footsteps—then, as if a flower had burst into bloom—an unexpected person appeared.

“Ah, it was Mrs. Akechi! Thank goodness you’re safe… Akechi, you should rejoice. Kobayashi-kun seems to have rescued your wife.”

Inspector Nakamura tapped Akechi’s shoulder. At the entrance to the room stood the beautiful Mrs. Fumiyo Akechi. Kobayashi and four or five middle school students were lined up on either side of her as if standing guard. Akechi exchanged glances with Mrs. Fumiyo and gave a light nod. “Kobayashi-kun, come here and report.” “How did you find Mrs. Akechi?”

In response to Inspector Nakamura’s words, Kobayashi answered “Yes” and stepped two or three paces forward. Then he began recounting last night’s events concisely. “Last night I was sleeping next to Mrs. Akechi’s bedroom when around midnight I suddenly noticed hushed voices outside her door. I cracked it open just a slit and peeked out—there were Inspector Nakamura and journalist Kurokawa trying to take Mrs. Akechi away somewhere.”

“Because I thought something was off, I went down to the backyard via another corridor. When I looked outside the gate, there was an automobile parked in the distance. The two of them must have intended to take Mrs. Akechi somewhere in this automobile.”

At that moment, I quickly thought. The fact that Inspector Nakamura and Mr. Kurokawa didn't say a single word to me about such a major incident as taking Mrs. Akechi away was strange. I thought that perhaps those two were impostors in clever disguises. But if I caused a commotion right then, something dangerous might have happened to Mrs. Akechi. Instead of that, it would be better to quietly track where that automobile was headed. That was exactly what I thought.

“For that there was a clever method that the teacher and I had invented long ago. I hurriedly took out a small tin can from the storage shed and fastened it under the automobile’s chassis. Inside was our chalk powder tracker with a gimlet-drilled hole at its base. When you removed the plug from this hole，the powder would spill out like thread—trailing endlessly behind as the automobile advanced，leaving an almost invisible line on the ground.”

“When morning came, I gathered five nearby Boy Detectives Club members. Then I retrieved Mr. Akechi’s German Shepherd named Shire from where it had been kept at the kennel, let him smell the chalk powder tracker, and had him follow the trail on the ground. Then I found the house where Mrs. Akechi was confined. While those members were keeping watch on the house, I reported this matter to Inspector Nakamura using a public telephone.”

When Kobayashi-kun had spoken up to that point, Inspector Nakamura interjected.

“This morning, I left the room once, right? That’s when I received Kobayashi-kun’s call. And I ordered my subordinates to assist Kobayashi and the others. That worked out perfectly.” “Wahahaha… Delightful, delightful! I must be growing senile after all… To think I’d be bested by some brat…”

The Mysterious Old Man suddenly burst into laughter, startling everyone into looking his way. “Kobayashi-kun, you truly live up to being Detective Akechi’s protégé.” “Well done.” “I’ll give you my praise too, but your achievements aren’t just that, are they?” “You must have found something even more significant.” “Don’t hide it—bring that here too.”

The Mysterious Old Man became oddly energetic and said something strange, so Kobayashi blinked his eyes and looked toward Detective Akechi. “Mr. Akechi, is it all right to bring them in?”

However, Akechi gave no answer. He simply kept glaring at Kobayashi-kun with a peculiar look. “Fine, fine, Kobayashi-kun. Hurry up and bring them here. Detective Akechi will surely be astonished too. Wahahaha… How delightful! How delightful!”

The Mysterious Old Man was growing more and more vigorous.

What in the world was happening here? The Mysterious Old Man seemed to know more secrets than Detective Akechi. Something was definitely off here.

Kobayashi consulted Inspector Nakamura with his eyes. Then when Inspector Nakamura nodded approval he left the room. Who could young Kobayashi be bringing? And what strange occurrence would happen this time?

Three Akechi Kogorōs

Everyone in the room exclaimed "Ah!" and stood up. The reason was that the person who had entered with Kobayashi was someone utterly unexpected. That was the renowned detective Akechi Kogorō. There were now two Akechis. The Akechi who had been sitting in the investigation room since morning and the Akechi who had just entered were completely identical in both face and clothing. They were as indistinguishable as twins.

“Wahahaha… Well then, everyone—quite surprised, aren’t you? Inspector Nakamura, restrain these two Akechi Kogorōs. Tie them up with rope. One of them must be the impostor. But I still can’t tell which one it is. Restrain both of them. If they escape, it’ll be disastrous.”

The Mysterious Old Man, still handcuffed, stood up from his chair and shouted. He was dismissively calling him "Nakamura-kun" and acting arrogantly. It appeared as though the Mysterious Old Man was the most important person in the room.

Even stranger was Inspector Nakamura’s attitude. Far from scolding the Mysterious Old Man, he pressed the buzzer as instructed by the old man, summoned his subordinate detectives, and had the two glaring Akechi Kogorōs bound with rope. They made them sit in separate chairs, tied their hands behind their backs, and fastened the ropes to the chairs’ backs. Though it remained unclear which was genuine and which was fake, the two Akechi Kogorōs were swiftly bound while still stunned, leaving them no chance to resist.

“Wahahaha… This grows ever more amusing!” “Now then, everyone—I must make one confession: this old man before you is also a fake.” “I am not the elder who creates transparent humans.” “Merely a decoy.” “That true old man requested my services—I received a colossal reward to act as his substitute for a time, then allowed myself to be captured deliberately.” “The genuine Mysterious Old Man would never be apprehended so easily, you understand.”

"The leader of the Transparent Monsters used me as a decoy, had me captured, and while everyone was distracted by that, he disguised himself as something completely different and vanished without a trace. 'No—when I say vanished, it doesn't necessarily mean he fled far away. He might be hiding right before our very eyes. That too shall become clear presently. Wahahaha... How truly delightful!'"

“I shall now reveal my true identity.” “To remove this disguise, these handcuffs are in the way.” “Inspector Nakamura—be so kind as to take them off.”

The Mysterious Old Man said that and held out both hands in front of Inspector Nakamura. By saying such things, wasn't he planning to have the handcuffs removed and suddenly make a run for it? Dangerous, dangerous! However, Inspector Nakamura remained unfazed. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the old man’s handcuffs with a click—didn’t he just?

Had the old man fled?

No, he did not run away. He simply went to the corner of the room, turned to face away, and crouched down.

As they watched, the old man’s white-haired head came off cleanly, as though peeling away a layer of skin, revealing a mass of wild black hair underneath. He had been wearing a wig. Next, the long white beard and two white eyebrows fluttered down to the floor. These too were a fake beard and fake eyebrows. After fidgeting restlessly for a while, he suddenly flung off the baggy black gown, spun around to face them, and rose to his feet—oh! Here stood yet another Akechi Kogorō. The Mysterious Old Man had transformed into the renowned detective.

Three Akechi Kogorōs—indistinguishable from head to toe—two bound behind their backs and seated on chairs, one standing in the corner of the room: three renowned detectives staring at one another. Ah—what on earth was this? Was everyone dreaming? No—this was no dream. In that room were Superintendent Shino and Inspector Nakamura, along with the two detectives who had earlier bound Akechi, Kobayashi, Fumiyo, and five middle school students. There was no way this many people could all be sharing the same dream.

The third Akechi detective—who had undone the Mysterious Old Man’s disguise—now stood with a dignified bearing utterly unlike the old man’s previous appearance and steadily advanced to the center of the room.

“Kobayashi-kun, you’ve accomplished something remarkable.” “Just what I’d expect from my assistant.” “Now, I’d like to speak to Superintendent Shino and everyone present.” “Earlier I said I received gratitude from the old man and became his decoy—but naturally, not as Akechi.” “After all, there’s no reason the old man would ask his enemy Detective Akechi to serve as a decoy.” “I had infiltrated the old man’s hideout posing as a cook.” “And pretended to be a dimwitted, slow-minded cook.”

The old man, finding his true identity increasingly at risk, erased his own presence and resolved to transform into an entirely different person. To achieve this, he needed to use a decoy to fool the police. "For that purpose, the dim-witted cook was ideal." "Therefore, he had me use money, disguised me as the old man, deliberately left me behind inside the burned-out building, and had Detective Akechi capture me."

“Ladies and gentlemen, isn’t this truly strange? Detective Akechi captured Detective Akechi. Is the Akechi who did the capturing the real one? Is the Akechi who was captured the real one? No, that’s not all. There is another Akechi. The Akechi that Kobayashi-kun rescued from the villains’ hideout is bound there. Just who among these three is the real Akechi Kogorō?”

“If the one Kobayashi-kun rescued was real,” he continued, “then I and the two Akechis who captured me must be fakes. Furthermore, if we suppose the Akechi-kun who escaped via the drainpipe from the burned building and later captured me—disguised as the old man—alongside Inspector Nakamura is genuine, then I and that bound Akechi-kun over there must both be impostors.” He paused theatrically. “This has grown truly messy, hasn’t it? For what possible reason would three Akechi Kogorōs appear?”

“It’s like this: Among these three are the real Akechi, a decoy that Akechi had prepared in advance, and the leader of the Transparent Monsters disguised as Akechi. One is Akechi, one is Akechi’s decoy, and one is the leader of the thieves. Who among the three is Akechi? Who is the leader of the thieves? That will become clear soon. I will now attempt to unravel that. Then, the Transparent Monster’s secret will be completely solved.”

The third Akechi, having said that much, cut off his words and swiftly glanced around. The stunned people were staring fixedly at the third Akechi’s figure as if they had forgotten to breathe. Despite the crowd of people, the room was eerily silent, filled with overwhelming stillness.

View from Behind

The third Akechi stood in the center of the room and began explaining the Transparent Monster incident to Superintendent Shino and Inspector Nakamura. With a beaming face and resonant voice, occasionally gesturing with both hands, he unraveled the incident's mystery with clarity. “Last night, the fake Inspector Nakamura and Kurokawa the journalist deceived Fumiyo and took her away, right? Then, what happened to the real Kurokawa the journalist? Since Inspector Nakamura was drugged with sleeping pills, it would make sense if Kurokawa here—who was in the same room—had been sound asleep together with the inspector. But only the inspector was drugged, and Kurokawa has yet to show himself. Where did he go? This—what on earth could be the reason? Where could Kurokawa the journalist have disappeared to?”

Akechi, at that point, cut off his words and swiftly looked around the room. Everyone fell silent and stared fixedly at Akechi’s face.

“There’s a stark difference between viewing a stage play from the audience seats versus seeing it from backstage.” “Even the most beautiful stage backdrop is just cloth stretched over wooden frames when seen from behind.” “In exactly the same way, every criminal case has both a front and a back.” “What you’ve all witnessed until today was only the front.” “To put it plainly—you’ve been watching this play from the audience seats.”

“However, a detective never watches from the audience seats. He always views things from backstage—the other side. In this Transparent Monster incident too, I was observing from behind the scenes from the very beginning. That’s why, unlike all of you, I already grasped the secret behind the trick.” “When you examine this case from backstage, what immediately stands out is Kurokawa the journalist’s suspicious behavior. This was corroborated by the fact that only Inspector Nakamura had been drugged with sleeping pills while Kurokawa the journalist vanished without a trace.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, Kurokawa the journalist was none other than the demon leader.” “When Fumiyo was taken away, Inspector Nakamura was an impostor, but Kurokawa the journalist was the real one.”

If one realized that Kurokawa was the leader of the Transparent Monsters，all circumstances would completely transform. Like viewing a magic trick from behind the scenes，all sorts of secrets would become clearly apparent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you mustn’t be alarmed.” “The Transparent Monster is nothing but a complete fabrication.” “Those Transparent Monsters that caused such an uproar are nothing but fakes created through Kurokawa’s tricks.”

At that point, Akechi once again paused briefly. The people stared wide-eyed in astonishment. It was because they simply couldn’t believe that the Transparent Monster had been a lie. “Kurokawa had spent a long time preparing to make it seem as though the Transparent Monster had truly appeared.” “About a year ago, he became a reporter for the Toyo Shimbun and, demonstrating his exceptional skills, quickly gained the trust of the chief of the social affairs department.” “And he utilized his position as a social affairs reporter for this major newspaper to the fullest.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please consider this carefully. Much of the Transparent Monster incidents involved Kurokawa either recounting stories or writing about them in newspapers. Even things that no one besides Kurokawa saw—once they became newspaper articles, people wouldn’t think they were lies. Of course, there were incidents that truly occurred, but more than half were fabrications by Kurokawa. He was skillfully blending them to deceive the public.” “For example, the story of many people on Ginza-dori colliding with an invisible human, the tale of a delinquent youth who stole money from a shoeshine boy being punished by an invisible human, and the account of Kurokawa—on his way to Shimada-kun’s father’s house—encountering a human shadow projected onto a concrete wall despite there being no one around, which then lunged at him—all these were fabrications by Kurokawa. Because those were skillfully blended with real events, no one suspected they were lies.”

“To make the Transparent Monster appear genuine, Kurokawa employed four or five assistants. During the incidents, stories from these assistants’ mouths were mixed in. For example, when the necklace was stolen from Daihodo’s store, Kurokawa had stationed one of his assistants there in advance as a store employee—that strange incident occurred when only that employee was present. Therefore, the store employee had only to fabricate a story convincingly. The owner and manager were completely deceived by it. And so, Kurokawa boldly published this assistant’s fabricated story in the newspaper.”

“Another example is that on the night the Pearl Tower was stolen from Shimada-kun’s house, a vagrant youth spoke convincingly about having seen an invisible human donning a wax mask and clothing in a corner of the garden—but that vagrant youth was also one of Kurokawa’s assistants.”

Grand Magic Trickery

When Akechi cut off his words, Inspector Nakamura called out as if he had been lying in wait.

“But Akechi, there were numerous incidents that couldn’t be dismissed as mere fabrications.” “I simply can’t comprehend this—first, take that initial case where the two boys, Shimada and Kishita, followed the wax-masked man from the antique shop.” “Right before their eyes, he stripped off his clothes.” “Then he became a completely invisible human being.” “How do you account for that?” “You’re not suggesting those two boys were Kurokawa’s accomplices?”

“That was a puppet contraption.” The wax-masked man entered the crumbling brick building in the burned ruins. The two boys hesitated outside the building. The man used that moment to slip out sideways, after which an identical mask and suit prepared beforehand had been suspended by black silk threads from a crack in the second-floor floorboards. On the second floor was an assistant manipulating those threads, making the mask and clothes appear to remove themselves, rolling up the garments, and creating the illusion of them floating toward the building’s side exit. “Since it was already evening and growing dim, the boys couldn’t see the mechanisms—the thin silk threads or wire bent into human shoulder shapes.”

Kurokawa, together with the two boys, tailed the wax-masked man, chased after the one who had taken off his clothes, and pretended to grapple with him—but of course, that was nothing more than an act. Next is the incident where the wax-masked fiend was found standing inside a department store mannequin by Kishita. The wax-masked fiend fled into the department store’s basement warehouse. In that warehouse sat a large empty cargo box. The culprit stripped off his clothes, hid inside that cargo box, and then threw out the wax mask. “Just at that moment, the door was opened—this is how people witnessed the strange sight of a wax mask flying through midair.”

At this moment, Inspector Nakamura questioned once again.

“But at that time, didn’t the Transparent Monster escape from the warehouse, collide with the clerk in the hallway and the laborer coming down the stairs, and knock both of them down?”

“Those two were also Kurokawa’s assistants. Ha ha ha ha ha, what a clever scheme! One disguised himself as a clerk, the other as a laborer, making it appear as though they’d been knocked down by the Transparent Monster.” “Another similar example—when Shimada-kun saw roller skates moving by themselves in his garden, that too was done by attaching thin silk threads to the skates, which Kurokawa’s assistant pulled from within the garden bushes.”

“And then, the translucent shadow of the Transparent Monster was often reflected on the windows, right?” And he let out an eerie laugh. “Then, that too…” “It’s magic lantern projection and ventriloquism.” When the assistants hid in places like the bushes outside the house and projected a magic lantern image of the monster’s profile onto the window, Kurokawa would perform ventriloquism inside the room. Whenever the monster’s shadow was projected, Kurokawa was always in that room. “Ventriloquism is that technique where you speak without moving your mouth at all.” “With ventriloquism, you can’t tell where the voice is coming from.” “If you think it’s outside the window, it can sound exactly like it’s coming from there.”

“Since I became a cook and infiltrated the Mysterious Old Man’s hideout, I discovered various other things. The Mysterious Old Man is none other than Kurokawa. Kurokawa is a strange fellow who can transform into anything. The tricks of magic he employed included puppet manipulation, magic lantern projection, and ventriloquism, along with black magic illusions and mirror tricks. To create the Transparent Monsters, every conceivable form of magic trickery was necessary. This case is like an exhibition of magic trickery, you see.”

When Daibō rode on the roof of a suspicious car and sneaked into the Mysterious Old Man’s hideout in the air raid shelter, he peered into the Transparent Monster’s bedroom through a crack in the door. There, a figure wearing only pajamas—with no face or hands—was holding a cup and drinking water. “That was black magic illusion,” Akechi explained. The bedroom walls had been covered with black curtains. In front of that pitch-black backdrop, Kurokawa’s assistant wrapped his face in black velvet and donned black gloves to perform the act. This made it appear as though a faceless, handless figure was drinking water.

Then, Daibō was turned into a Transparent Monster by the Mysterious Old Man. Daibō-kun himself had been feeling that way too. "I stealthily helped Daibō-kun escape from the villains' hideout, and at that time, I heard his story in detail."

The Mysterious Old Man injected Daibō-kun with a sleeping drug, tied him to a chair, and confined him in a cramped room about two tatami mats in size. In that room, on one wall, there was a small mirror embedded—about thirty centimeters square. When Daibō-kun woke up, his upper body from the chest up was reflected in that mirror. It was indeed his own school uniform, but strangely, there was no face. Where his face should have been, only the concrete wall behind him was reflected.

Since both his hands were tied behind the chair, he couldn’t reach up to touch his own face. Daibō-kun, having no other choice, tried moving his shoulders while still tied up. Then, the school uniform in the mirror also moved its shoulders in the same way. Therefore, he realized that what was reflected in the mirror must indeed be himself. Daibō-kun, completely losing his nerve, had finally convinced himself that he too had been turned into a Transparent Monster.

There was a trick with this mirror. What was been embedded in the wall was transparent ordinary glass, with a real mirror placed diagonally behind it. Beside this setup sat a person wearing the same school uniform as Daibō-kun, positioned so only their upper torso showed—their face concealed by a board painted to match the concrete wall’s color. When reflected in the angled mirror, this created the illusion of Daibō-kun seeing his own headless form. “If Daibō-kun moved his shoulders,” he explained, “the person on the other side would mirror those movements exactly.” “It’s a basic mirror trick anyone would recognize.”

Daibō-kun, convinced he had been turned into a Transparent Monster, was confined in a pitch-black room. After that, Nakamura-kun, you—alongside Kurokawa and Kobayashi-kun—stormed into the air raid shelter and heard Daibō-kun’s voice from inside the cage, though it was completely empty. “As usual, Kurokawa used ventriloquism with Daibō-kun’s frightened voice.” Then another Transparent Monster arrived, entered the cage, grappled with Daibō-kun, and finally seemed to take him fleeing somewhere—but that too was Kurokawa’s ventriloquism. He skillfully made them hear the two’s intense breathing through ventriloquism. Then Kurokawa himself opened the cage door to make it appear as though the Transparent Monster had opened it, deliberately falling down to feign being knocked over by the creature. “It was all Kurokawa’s one-man show.”

"Nakamura-kun, I believe this roughly concludes our explanation of the tricks. Is there anything else unclear to you?"

Akechi, smiling, inquired in a tone just like a teacher standing before a blackboard might ask his students.

“Seeing things from behind the scenes is truly terrifying, isn’t it? Once you realize Kurokawa’s the culprit, everything falls into place. Even so, I’m always in awe of your sharp deductions. That Kurokawa fellow really schemed up something dreadful, didn’t he? But it seems there are two gaps in your explanation. One is the incident where the Pearl Tower was stolen from the Shimada family’s basement vault. The other—though you likely haven’t heard yet—is last night’s event where a clown wearing a wax mask disappeared inside a public telephone booth.”

Inspector Nakamura then briefly explained the clown incident. Then, Akechi immediately proceeded to solve that riddle. "Now, regarding the two incidents you mentioned—based on what I’ve explained so far, you’ve probably already pieced most of it together—but just to confirm, the Pearl Tower was of course stolen by Kurokawa." "A warning letter declaring 'I will steal the Pearl Tower' fluttered down from midair." "That too was simply Kurokawa throwing the letter scraps himself and then catching them, but the Pearl Tower was done through the same method."

After seeing the warning letter, Shimada Ichiro’s father investigated the basement storage room together with Kurokawa. Kurokawa had already used a magician’s sleight of hand to extract the Pearl Tower from the glass case at that time. “So, by the time everyone was diligently keeping watch in front of the safe for the thief in the middle of the night, it had long since been emptied.”

At that time, the sensation that the Transparent Monster had sneaked in was indeed due to Kurokawa’s ventriloquism. "In every case, ventriloquism—that convenient tool—created marvels beyond human capability, you see." As for the other incident—the clown disappearing from the public phone booth—I’ve only just heard about it and haven’t verified it yet, but the sequence was likely this: The driver who saw the clown enter the phone booth left to alert you all. Seizing that moment, the clown had hung another wax mask and clown costume from the booth’s ceiling. After exiting, he rigged the door to stay shut and vanished into the darkness.

“You were convinced the mask and clown costume hanging in the phone booth belonged to that clown you’d seen earlier,” Akechi explained. “So when you found nothing inside them, naturally you were shocked. The rest followed Kurokawa’s usual ventriloquism routine. Since he was right there with you all, he could’ve pulled off any trick through voice projection.” As Akechi concluded his explanation, Superintendent Shino—silent until now—finally spoke up.

“Mr. Akechi, that was truly an astonishingly keen insight. When your wisdom is applied, any mystery melts away smoothly—as if undoing the very ring of intellect itself. With your explanation now, there’s nothing left unclear.”

“But Mr. Akechi, while we’ve uncovered the secrets behind the magic tricks, there still remains one utterly incomprehensible matter. “Why did Kurokawa need to stage such elaborate illusions to make the Transparent Monsters appear real?” “This too must be clear to you already, I presume.”

“I understand. That is precisely the most fascinating aspect of this case.”

Akechi, still smiling cheerfully, began his explanation.

True Culprit

Akechi's explanation continued.

“What was the purpose behind making non-existent Transparent Monsters appear to exist?” “First and foremost, it was to steal valuables like jewels.” “By making people believe a ghostly Transparent Monster was the culprit, the real criminal could operate without suspicion.”

“However, that’s not all. This criminal wanted to startle everyone. It’s like magnifying that feeling when a child hides behind a shoji screen and jumps out going ‘Boo!’ to surprise someone approaching. He wanted to startle all of Tokyo—all of Japan—with that ‘Boo!’ The Transparent Monster—this apparition—had truly appeared in this world, and he delighted in terrifying everyone by making them believe it would multiply into dozens, then hundreds.”

“And then there was another reason—he wanted to make me…this Akechi Kogorō…exclaim in surprise! He threatened to turn even me, Fumiyo, and Kobayashi into Transparent Humans, then actually abducted us. He wanted everyone to believe even the great detective had finally been transformed into one.” When the Mysterious Old Man called my office, I sensed his terrifying resolve. “So I employed my secret stratagem.” This involved having decoys of Fumiyo and myself stay at the detective agency while we vanished from public view.

"As Inspector Nakamura well knows, I once used decoys of myself in a previous case long ago. From that time onward, I had searched out people who were exact lookalikes of me and had them reside in a secret location. This time too, I used those same people. At the time of the previous case, there was no decoy for Fumiyo yet. But after that, I constantly kept an eye out and finally managed to find someone who was an exact lookalike of Fumiyo. This woman too had been kept at the secret location."

“In my detective agency’s innermost room lies a secret passageway,” Akechi explained calmly. “A section of its wall functions as an electrically powered rotating panel. After receiving that threatening call from the Mysterious Old Man, Fumiyo and I slipped through this hidden route to exchange places with our two doubles.”

“Therefore, the Akechi who was kidnapped by car was actually the decoy. Also, Fumiyo—the one taken away last night by Kurokawa and the fake Inspector Nakamura—was the decoy too. The Fumiyo here now, rescued by Kobayashi, isn’t the real Fumiyo. My wife is hidden away safely where nobody knows.” The more Akechi explained, the more shocking revelations piled up, leaving no breathing room for the listeners. They could only gape in utter astonishment, mouths hanging open as they stared fixedly at Akechi’s face.

“Having done that, I located the Mysterious Old Man’s hideout, posed as a cook, and took up residence there.” The criminal, having abducted the decoy and felt reassured, had grown dangerously complacent in that regard. “The criminal—of all people—commanded me to become his decoy.”

"The criminal was no amateur. 'Sure enough, he had thought of the same thing as I did and tried to deceive the police using decoys.' 'He made me disguise as the Mysterious Old Man and deliberately allowed me to be captured to reassure the police, then finally set about plotting a terrifying scheme.' 'So then, what became of the real Mysterious Old Man who had switched places with my decoy? Could he have reverted to being Kurokawa the journalist?' 'No, that’s not what happened.' 'He transformed into the most unsuspected person in the world—namely, a detective.' 'The criminal, who believed he had captured Akechi, disguised himself as Akechi in an attempt to startle the police.' 'In other words, the Akechi who deliberately allowed himself to be discovered by a patrol officer last night after climbing down the downspout of a burned-out building was none other than the culprit in disguise.'"

Upon hearing this, everyone in the room turned their eyes simultaneously to glare at Akechi, who sat bound to a chair. Having been declared the culprit by the real Akechi Kogorō, the fake Akechi turned deathly pale and hung his head. That he was the true criminal became unmistakably clear from his appearance alone.

The real Akechi gazed contemptuously at the fake Akechi's dejected appearance and continued speaking. "He became Kurokawa the journalist, transformed into the Mysterious Old Man, and now has taken my form—so perfectly that no one can distinguish us." "Isn't this criminal truly a grandmaster of disguise?" The culprit who reveled in startling Akechi and taking him prisoner—this man nursed such deep resentment toward Akechi that one might suspect he possessed countless faces, a disguise artist so skilled it defied belief. "Everyone—from these two facts alone, can you not recall someone?"

Akechi swiftly looked around at everyone’s faces. Everyone’s eyes were opened so wide they looked about to pop out. Everyone had turned to stone; not a single person moved.

“You’ve realized it now, haven’t you? That’s right. Reporter Kurokawa, who disguised himself as the Mysterious Old Man and then as Akechi—that Kurokawa wasn’t truly himself either. I do not know his real name. Over a year ago, during the ‘Tiger’s Fang’ incident, the person captured as Dr. Magic—that is, Kaijin Nijū Mensō (Fiend with the Twenty Faces). Ladies and gentlemen, bound to that chair is none other than that fearsome great demon—Kaijin Nijū Mensō (Fiend with the Twenty Faces).”

A few days after being captured in the "Tiger’s Fang" incident, he had already vanished through his signature jailbreak. And under the guise of Kurokawa from Eastern News, he had been plotting a far-reaching revenge against me.

“Superintendent Shino, I hereby deliver Kaijin Nijū Mensō into your custody once again. This time, please take thorough measures to ensure he doesn’t escape.” No sooner had Akechi’s words faded than a thunderous roar filled the room. The superintendent, inspector, detectives, Kobayashi, and Boy Detectives Club members—ten people in total—swarmed around the fake Akechi bound to the chair.

From the force of their charge, the criminal's bound chair toppled over, and Kaijin Nijū Mensō lay sprawled on the floor in an undignified heap. Even the master magician could do nothing more in such a state. His face deathly pale with oily sweat streaming down, biting his lips, he lay like a corpse.

And thus, the major incident of the Transparent Monster that had so shaken the world finally came to a close. Henceforth, it goes without saying that the reputation of the famous detective Akechi Kogorō and his renowned boy assistant Kobayashi grew even higher. For a time, wherever one went, there was nothing but talk of the two’s exploits.