Tokyo Wingman King

Seeing the two oddly shaped creatures standing in the middle of the park, many people who were about to cross the park to smoke in the smoking room at the other end silently chose to stop and go around them.

It's unclear which kind person said something, but not long after, two patrol officers arrived at the entrance of the small park, parked the bicycle with the small box on the back seat, and started jogging to call out to the cattle and horses in the center of the park.

"If it's convenient, could you please show me your identification?"

"Did not bring."

"I didn't bring it either."

"Then, please come with us. It's very close, and we can just fill out a form."

"No, we're going to stay here and play on the seesaw with the teacher."

"Eh?"

The two smiling police officers froze.

Asama sighed, stepped out of the shadows, and deliberately broke the silence.

“Here’s my ID, officer, please inspect it.”

"Huh? Yes, okay, thank you. We... no, um, you're their companion, right? Do you know a little Japanese? Jajaponese?"

The police officer smiled awkwardly while making meaningless gestures with his hands.

"They speak Japanese. These two strangely dressed children are not bad people. They are my students who have not attended classes this semester. I arranged for them to receive psychological counseling in this area."

The two patrol officers looked at Ox-Head and Horse-Face, thinking that psychological counseling was indeed necessary, and then asked, "Sir, do you live around here? Where are you going next?"

"My address is on my personal identification number card. We're leaving in a bit. Did some nearby residents complain?"

"Sorry, the passersby were a little worried."

"Just passing by? Why are you worried? Has the security situation here been bad lately?"

"of course not."

"So your jobs must be pretty easy?"

"Of course not."

Asama took the initiative and asked the two officers several questions in succession.

When he was showing off his personal identification card and KKIS employee card, he accidentally revealed his aged California ID card, a 17-year-old Tokyo University student ID card, and a bank card given to him by the Konoe family. The smiles of the patrol officers, which were comparable to those of Haidilao restaurant waiters, became even more enthusiastic and humble.

During Asama's questioning, the two policemen bowed a total of 23 times and said "private Masai" 44 times. Only when Asama said, "[Thank you for your hard work, that's enough]," did the two men breathe a sigh of relief, get on their bicycles, and escape from the small park.

The two ox-headed and horse-faced figures beside Asama, resembling two tuning forks, emitted a persistent buzzing laugh upon seeing this.

“The teachers are all dressed up as foreigners. If they only spoke foreign languages, they could probably develop abs just by nodding and bowing,” Takishima Mamen said with a laugh.

"The recent trend of foreign language bullying, huh? Well, these days, civil servants are not only bad at foreign languages ​​and lack proper equipment, but their intelligence is also lagging behind. I don't really understand what use these apes who can't even use translation apps can be as police officers," Ushito Komaba chuckled.

"You think you can fool us into working like slaves by using fickle tricks?"

Horse-faced clearly knew the story and ancient meaning of the idiom "to change one's mind frequently".

Asama looked at the cattle and horses around him and said helplessly, "I owe you two suspicious cattle and horses all this trouble."

Niu Tou retorted, "Isn't the real reason that Master's information-gathering obsession has kicked in? To be honest, what kind of information can you get by chatting with these tax thieves? You might as well just ask Nijo-san."

Horse-faced chimed in, "Miss Reina has used up all her police action cards, so asking her about the police deployment in this area won't be of any use."

Minotaur exclaimed in surprise, "So this thing has a limited number of uses? Shouldn't the Five Regents' privileges be something like [UBW Unlimited Blade Works], no, it should be something like [Gate of Babylon]?"

Horse-face shrugged and said, "You're overthinking it. If it weren't for the Great Teacher, Miss Reina wouldn't have such high authority."

Niu Tou laughed and said, "It was the Great Teacher who helped Nijo-san increase his privileges, and it was also the Great Teacher who made Nijo-san use up all his privileges, is that right?"

Horse-faced nodded and said, “That is natural. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Just like now, rich people give money to poor people. No matter whether the poor people use the money for eating and drinking or for speculating in stocks and buying houses, the money will eventually return to the pockets of the rich people.”

Niu Tou sighed, "I understand the principle of money begetting money, but the ability to make power beget power is something that even kings and popes might not be able to do well, right?"

Horse-faced nodded and said, "That's true. Money multiplies through compound interest, but the logic of power multiplies is more complex and more likely to backfire on its master, not to mention multiplying power outside its boundaries."

Niu Tou laughed, "It's not exactly outside the boundaries of power, is it? Master is practically the son raised by the Five Regents now. Before becoming the ruler of the world, first become the son of the world... is that the strategy, Master?"

Horse-face asked, "Is this the 'son of the people' that Master mentioned? So the son grows up and becomes the master, right?"

Listening to the two people beside him talking nonsense, Asama felt a headache coming on.

To be honest, he couldn't tell how much of what those two guys were saying was a joke and how much was serious.

Asama, staring at the suits, changed the subject, "You're going to wear these tonight?"

"Of course not!" x2
"As a knight of the [Right Night Knight] squad, transformation is naturally the most important part!"

"Wow, Cyclone joker~~~"

Ushimoto Komaba and Bakamen Takishima collaborated to create a set of Kamen Rider W transformation starting poses.

"How old are you exactly?"

"Men are boys until they die, aren't they? The Justice Squad is still missing a meat shield, should we bring Daiki along too?"

Niu Tou rubbed his hands together excitedly, like a fly buzzing in the air.

"He's not as naive as you guys."

The bull-headed man swayed and said, "Wrong! Daiki is someone who can even accept Ultraman, how could he not like to fight without looking at the card art?! Teacher Daiki, if you fight without looking at the card art, you will lose at least 3.3550336% of the fun in your life."

What's so interesting about toy commercials?

Niu Tou sighed, "Are we watching a tokusatsu show? Or a commercial? NO! What we're actually seeing is our own childlike innocence. It's a pity, Mr. Hachiman, your childhood is over."

Horse-face laughed and said, "Life is a process of constant loss. I can understand that."

Asama rubbed his temples. "Which righteous comrades have you ever seen who would spout so much irrelevant nonsense before going on a mission?"

"What kind of logic is it to secretly plot loudly in a park? Important things should be said in a more private place. Teacher Da is really too unrefined," Niu Tou said seriously.

"The matter is accomplished through secrecy, and ruined by leaks. The Grand Master is far too careless," Horse-Face chimed in.

"So, do you have a transformation device prepared? Are you planning to transform right here?"

"A transformation device? How could such a thing exist in reality? Take back what you just said, Mr. Hachiman, your childhood is still intact." Bullhead said with relief.

“Even if they’re unwilling, they still choose to communicate in a lower dimension and think at a lower frequency in the end. That’s also where the Great Teacher’s kindness lies,” Horse-face laughed.

"."

Asama forgave the pair of oxen and horses in front of him, citing the reason that "being good at listening to friends' nonsense is a great emotional value".

He still believes that wasting emotional energy on such nonsense is a serious waste of one's energy.

However, he is no longer the overworked office worker who relied on coffee to survive every day in his previous life, nor the weakling who relied on the Da Vinci sleep method to catch up on sleep half a year ago.

It doesn't matter if a little time is wasted.

The basement of a spice factory in Edogawa Ward, Tokyo.

The air was filled with a damp, musty smell, the odor of chlorine/aldehyde disinfectant, and a hint of cold, metallic stench.

In the basement hall, more than 30 people were tied up in batches beside four concrete pillars. Some of them had already fainted, while others showed expressions of fear or dejection.

Footsteps echoed through the empty hall.

The trapped people all looked in the direction of the sound, and there were two men in black in the center of the hall—the same men in black who had tied them up a few minutes earlier.

A black-clad man wearing a demon mask and exoskeleton asked,
"BoJack, have you found those big shots?"

"No. Although there is no cold storage here, the operating room has professional ice boxes and preservation solutions. It can be inferred that this basement is just a transit station for removing donor organs and the recipient does not need to be present."

The man in black wearing a horse demon mask answered.

"How are those unlucky guys who sold their kidneys doing?"

"They're sleeping soundly. Two of them have already been given anesthesia, and I've helped the rest fall asleep. What have you found here?" the horse demon mask asked in return.

The demon masked man waved the documents in his hand and said...

"Besides the medical examination report, there are also some forged certificates to avoid surgical review. Some are to prove parentage, and some are to prove marital relationship. I checked the recipient's name a little and it should be a pseudonym."

The masked horse demon took the document, glanced at it, and said, "These are the same names on the notepad in the ice box. Since the donor and recipient have already been matched, and only the final step of transplantation is left, instead of spending time finding recipients, we should find the hospital that will ultimately perform the surgery for these recipients."

"Do you think these surgeries ultimately go through the proper channels?"

"Maybe, otherwise there would be no need to go to such lengths. By the way, do you have any clue about these initials on the sticky note?"

The horse demon showed the photos taken with the miniature camera to the bull demon.

"The initials of the recipient's or the person handling the case? Hmm, it could also be the hospital's initials. Guessing like that is too troublesome; we'll just have to pry these people open their mouths and ask them."

After saying this, Ushiki Komaba turned his gaze to the prisoners under the concrete pillar.

Ma Yao Takishima nodded, disengaged the safety on his pistol, and smiled at the prisoners.

"Now we'll begin the quiz segment. The first round is an easy question. I'll say the first letter, and you'll provide the relevant information, okay? You have one minute to think. If you don't give an answer within the time limit, I'll randomly eliminate one person every 6 seconds."

With a click, Ma Yao cocked the pistol.

This silenced pistol hasn't been used yet today, but none of the prisoners in the hall believe that the horse demon is just bluffing.

"[TT], do you know what that means?"

The demon horse glanced at its watch, tapped its left foot on the cement floor, and signaled the start of the countdown.

The sound of the clapping resonated deeply in everyone's hearts, then echoed throughout the empty hall.

The doctors, who didn't want their white coats to become shrouds, looked at each other and shook their heads in unison. Then they turned the gaze of the two men in black to another group of people.

This group of people, consisting of drivers and thugs, simply shook their heads and turned their attention to another group of thugs.

The third group then looked at the fourth group, who were dressed as white-collar workers.

The gaze passed between the four groups of people twice.

"Passing the parcel like a drum? Interesting."

"They won't shed tears until they see the coffin."

Ma sighed and pointed his gun at a bodyguard leader with a tattoo on his neck.

The doctors breathed a sigh of relief, while the bodyguard consciously closed his eyes, awaiting his execution.

"No need to ask anymore, I've already figured it out."

A third man in black appeared in the hall, wearing a Snoopy mask, carrying an unconscious adult like a chicken—the man in the suit who had just fled at the first moment.

"The one you just asked about is an address abbreviation—Fujita Medical University Tokyo Haneda Campus."

He then named the remaining four hospitals, all of which were among the most prestigious and authoritative hospitals in Japan.

Upon hearing his words, the more than 30 people being controlled reacted with varying expressions.

Ma Yao shrugged and said, "Not surprising at all. In fact, ever since the 'organ donation intention registration' appeared on the back of driver's licenses and insurance documents, this country's greed for young and healthy organs has been common knowledge."

The demon patted the man in the suit on the face and laughed.
"Is this guy the mastermind? How did the teacher catch him? Didn't he try to escape on the speedboat at the beginning?"

"The speedboat seemed to be leaking, so I pulled him out."

Ushiki Komaba didn't believe Snoopy Asama's nonsense at all, "Dumping people out of the sea and only getting their shoes wet?"

"The clothes are quick-drying."

"."

Ma Yao held the earphone in place for a while, then asked...

"The police will arrive in about 20 minutes. What's next?"

"Didn't your partner say that we couldn't use the action card anymore? How come you can still coordinate with the police?" Niu Gui complained.

"[Hiring someone to do work] and [hiring someone to reap without sowing] are two different things."

"With these cops around, these bad guys might be able to continue getting away with it soon."

Asama interjected, "Where are the donors?"

“I hid it along with those boxes of money. Whether the police can find it depends on their luck,” Takishima replied.

Komaba laughed and said, "If you're trying to use these people and money to keep catching small fish, I think you're just wasting your time."

Horse Demon Takishima shrugged, walked up to Snoopy Asama, and said softly,
"Now that we've caught them red-handed, these people are no longer of any use. Creating a conflict scene won't take long, so should we spare their lives?"

“The evidence is plentiful, isn’t it? Let others judge them in the sunlight,” Asama replied.

Komaba snapped his fingers and nodded, saying, "Teacher, this fishing method is excellent. Anyone who wants to catch these rotten fish and shrimp will inevitably get themselves into trouble."

Takishima shook his head, walked over to the group of doctors, squatted down, and smiled at them with the same look he would give a piece of meat waiting to be slaughtered on a chopping board.

“I hope this is the last time you see me. If you continue to do bad things, I won’t be as accommodating as I am today.”

Although Takishima was speaking with a smile, the doctors and anesthesiologists clearly felt a cold, sharp, suffocating, yet taken-for-granted cruelty.

Asama fully agreed with Takishima's methods, so he picked up a few scalpels from his portable surgical instrument case and hurled them at the armed thugs.

With a few muffled thuds, the thugs, still shaken, discovered that the scalpel was pressed against their faces and deeply embedded in the concrete pillar.

They didn't even realize that blood was streaming down their faces.

These scalpels, with their short blades, had once sliced ​​through the bodies of those who were desperate and worthless, like mud and weeds. Now, the cold, metallic chill of the metal was clearly and deeply applied to them.

“If you continue to do bad things, I won’t be as easy to talk to as I am today.”

"Teacher, could you write some lines yourself?"

"This is more energy-efficient."

The three of them, Asama, Komaba, and Asama, squeezed around the computer desk at the Komaba residence, each working on the documents at hand.

"The man in the suit has several high-achieving students at the hospital, from Tokyo University and Keio University. He's quite popular with his good looks," Komaba said with a sip of cola.

"Intelligence does not represent the bottom line, and moral education is not something universities are good at," Takishima said to his notebook.

"Oh? All five hospitals have investments from all five families. Teacher, is this a case of the flood washing away the Dragon King's temple today?"

Komaba turned his head and looked at Asama with a smile.

“If it’s an evil dragon, just destroying the temple isn’t enough; it has to be killed,” Takishima added.

“Slaying a dragon? Asama Daisui can’t do that. We’ll have to summon the high-pressure water gun—Asama: Water Severing Wave.”

Komaba made a standard hand seal gesture towards Asama, then let out a cola-flavored burp.

Asama ignored their teasing and continued to quickly browse the spreadsheets and sort through the information.

The five hospitals we found today had a total of 2023 undisclosed transplant surgeries last year, which is more than 10 times the publicly disclosed data.

It's inaccurate to say that all recipients are from the Five Regents, but almost all of them have some connection to them. Aside from a few exceptions like the Togami family, it's difficult for powerful and wealthy people in Japan to avoid dealing with the Five Regents. The Five Regents do indeed benefit from the organ transplant business, even if they don't profit from it. The debt of gratitude for saving a life is perhaps heavier than any monetary reward.

Although there is no concrete evidence to prove that all the donor organs used in these undisclosed surgeries were of dubious origin, judging from the number of surgeries performed in the illegal organ harvesting factories discovered today, at least half of them are problematic.

Asama thought of what the man in the suit had said—

"Is there anything wrong with this? The poor contribute their labor, time, bodies, and organs, while the rich contribute money. Both sides have a chance to survive! This isn't harming people; it's saving lives! It's a more efficient way to save lives than those useless slogans about social justice! Giving healthy organs to those rich people who are waiting to die is much more worthwhile than giving them to yourself to slowly rot in this damned world!"

By objectifying the same kind of people into dismantlable commodities, and distorting the existential predicament created by ubiquitous exploitation into a facade of fair and free trade, the true nature of these practices is revealed.
That's disgusting.

"Master, Reina has confirmed the information about the man in the suit. Sato Takeru, 42 years old, of Vietnamese descent, immigrated to Japan 5 years ago, and previously worked as an organ broker in the Philippines and Indonesia."

"This Vietnamese guy really knows how to come up with names. There are at least 8000, if not 1, of those names in Japan," Komaba laughed.

"He confessed that he handled approximately 400 organ donations in Japan."

Komaba pursed his lips. "If they say 400, then it'll probably be closer to 800. This place we checked today has at least 4 cases a week, so it'll be over 1000 cases in 5 years."

"In addition, this Vietnamese man not only confessed about his hospitals' suppliers again, but also revealed a key person."

"who?"

"The temporary guardian of Mie Qiu".

"Wasn't this lawyer the one who provided the tip for this operation?" (End of Chapter)