Tokyo Detective Chronicles

I said…

"Your Morikawa family is so wealthy and powerful, don't you really plan to iterate and optimize this rudimentary and primitive ritual process?"

Fushimi Iori's voice echoed in the empty room, her pupils staring blankly at the ceiling, filled with helplessness.

He was currently bound tightly to an old-looking metal electric chair, which looked like it had been used to restrain large animals, by an iron chain.

His body was covered with talismans with intricate patterns, and red threads were wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Several small copper bells hung from the ends of the red threads, making unsettling soft sounds with his subtle movements.

Even so, Fushimi's emotions remained relatively stable at this moment.

"The people of Yingzhou are most particular about tradition."

Morikawa Kanata slowly pushed the wheelchair out of the shadows, stopped on his left, and attached the electrode patch to his temple.

Then, with great effort, he turned the wheelchair to the other side and attached another patch.

"And for a family like ours, tradition is of paramount importance."

Today is the third day since I made the promise with Xiao Kui, and the swastika candles made from the remains of those prematurely deceased fetuses are finally finished.

This means that the investigation into the leech monster incident can finally enter the next substantive stage.

After school, I heard from Karin that Akiyama Aiko had completely behaved herself, fell seriously ill, and was bedridden. During this time, she still made sure to ask someone to call Hayakawa Chiho and apologize tearfully, begging for forgiveness.

After confirming that the minor trouble had been properly resolved, he returned to the Morikawa residence as promised.

But this time, he was unable to see Aoi Morikawa.

"I understand the logic, but... is it really necessary to tie me up like this?"

Fushimi tried to lift his wrist, which was locked in chains, and the metal rattled as it rubbed together, but he found that he couldn't move it at all.

It was only just now that he heard from Morikawa Kanata that the production cycle for these swastika candles usually takes at least fifteen days.

And Xiao Kui...

He managed to shorten the production cycle to three days by skipping classes and staying up all night. His talent, which he displayed in that short time, shocked even his older brother, Kanata Morikawa.

It wasn't until this morning, after the wedding ceremony, that I finally couldn't stay awake any longer and fell asleep.

Fushimi felt a pang of guilt, but more than that, he felt regret... and a sense of foreboding.

Upon learning of this, Morikawa Kanata was naturally so angry that the veins on his forehead throbbed.

I knew that kid probably liked that bastard Fushimi Iori, but did he have to be so love-struck?

I haven't slept for three days and three nights just to rush out this kind of thing, and I won't listen to anyone's advice...

He hasn't even agreed to marry into the family yet, and he already dares to treat his sister like this... What will happen after they get married?

Wouldn't that mean he could cheat whenever he wanted without being blamed by Xiao Kui?

How could he, as the older brother, be at ease with this?

Morikawa Kanata, with his back to Fushimi, revealed a dangerous smile:

"Hehe... Of course I need to. If you lose control because of the wedding night, this poor cripple of mine won't have the strength to subdue you."

As he spoke, he picked up a porcelain dish from the small table next to his wheelchair, which contained several oddly colored, slightly curled, dried flower petals.

Without any explanation, he stuffed it all into Fushimi's mouth and made him drink some strange liquid.

The bitter and refreshing taste hit Fushimi's head.

He frowned, trying to suppress the discomfort caused by the strange smell.

Honestly, Fushimi Iori, who could remain unfazed even when facing dozens of evil spirits, was genuinely feeling a bit uneasy at this moment.

"Hey... don't do that. If I knew the normal production cycle of the swastika candle, I would definitely stop Xiao Kui from doing that."

Morikawa Kanata sneered and did not respond, pushing his wheelchair to the ceremonial platform not far away.

A candle was placed in the center of the ceremonial platform.

The candle body is pure white, seemingly containing a small cluster of flower stamens, and the wick is dark gold.

Kanata Morikawa picked up a slender silver torch, dipped the tip in a special grease, and gently touched the candle wick.

"laugh……"

A faint flame ignited.

At first, it was just a small, unremarkable orange-yellow color, about the size of a bean.

But just a few seconds later, the color of the flame began to change, gradually turning into a ghostly blue that seemed to absorb all light.

At the same time, a highly penetrating, cool floral fragrance spread throughout the air.

In no time, it filled the entire room.

Without a doubt, Aoi Morikawa's craftsmanship is exceptionally high, and the purity of the candles is astonishing.

With the help of the flower petals and medicine he had just taken, Fushimi's gaze was involuntarily drawn to the pale blue candlelight.

The flames burned quietly, their leaping rhythm gradually synchronizing with his heartbeat.

He felt his spirit being pulled and drawn by some invisible force, sinking deeper into the candlelight.

His spiritual vision opened slightly out of control, and the candlelight in his field of vision seemed to turn into a vortex.

But that's not enough...

It will also require some external force to make Fushimi completely succumb to it.

Just then, having finished all the preparations, Kaname pushed her wheelchair to a small control panel behind the electric chair.

There was an old-fashioned joystick covered in black bakelite on the control panel.

He reached out, his long, slender fingers resting lightly on the joystick, then turned his head to look at Fushimi, revealing a sorrowful and helpless expression.

How can I describe that expression?

Fushimi thought to himself.

It's probably like an executioner on the execution ground removing the prisoner's hood, only to find that the person to be executed is his best friend.

"Well, you're in this state, why don't you let someone else do it... Don't tire yourself out."

Fushimi Iori said uncertainly.

"That won't do... I've waited three whole days for this moment..."

Morikawa Kanata's voice grew increasingly dangerous as he gently pushed the joystick forward.

"Kanata Morikawa! Listen to me! You must stay calm..."

"Zzzzzzz—!!!"

A strong electric current surged through the electrode patch, impacting Fushimi's nerves.

In an instant, excruciating pain, numbness, and burning sensation swept through the entire body, causing muscles to tense and spasm uncontrollably, and chains and bells to rattle and clang.

"Uh...uh..."

Under the stimulation, Fushimi's spiritual energy was instinctively mobilized, and his spiritual vision was activated to a level that would be impossible to achieve under normal circumstances.

He forced himself to look at the lit candle.

Everything in sight loses its color, perception is stripped away, and everything before my eyes becomes a simple black, white, and gray line drawing, intertwined with red threads.

Several red threads burst forth from the candlelight, densely connecting to his body, flowing into his brow, and creating ripples.

Countless pieces of information flooded in, shattering my mind with a deafening roar.

Images, sounds, smells, sensations, emotions, memories... countless pieces of information filled his consciousness.

The young couple smiled at the ultrasound image, their fingertips gently stroking their still-flat bellies.

Under the lamplight late at night, a young man clumsily assembles a crib, sweat beading on his forehead... A pregnant woman, heavily in the womb, softly hums a lullaby out of tune, practicing holding a baby in the air...

In a carefully decorated children's room...

The loving couple recorded their happiness in front of the video camera, wanting to show it to their child when he grows up. Their eyes were filled with sweetness and anticipation for the future.

……

……

Then, the accident happened.

Repeated, useless, and repetitive inspection reports...

The pregnant woman's unease lingered on her brow, the sudden, severe abdominal pain, and the glaring lights of the hospital corridor.

The smell of disinfectant, whispers, crying...

The doctor shook his head regretfully, covered his face, and silently trembled his shoulders. The empty crib was covered with a white sheet. The increasingly cold silence between the couple stood side by side, and parenting books were gathering dust in the corner.

Because of infertility, the topic of the future can no longer be brought up...

These fragments of emotions from different families flooded in at the same time.

The information flowed too fast and was too complex. Even if Fushimi tried his best to remember some of the content, he could only remember some key details.

Gradually, the influx of information began to decrease, but it became increasingly solid and focused.

The fragmented images began to piece together.

Until... the appearance of a hospital.

Fushimi found himself standing in front of a dilapidated hospital, looking up.

Large areas of the white tiles on the main body of the hospital building have fallen off, revealing the dark gray cement underneath. It is about five or six stories high. Most of the dark blue glass windows are broken and covered with thick dust and grime.

The side walls of the main building were covered with dead vines.

A rusty metal sign hangs diagonally above the entrance, the lettering faded and illegible, with only the word "hospital" barely discernible.

The concrete space in front of the door is cracked, and waist-high weeds are growing in the cracks.

The entire building was shrouded in a hazy mist, eerily silent, so quiet that even birds seemed to avoid it.

Outside the gate, a man and a woman were talking, seemingly arguing, but they were too far away for him to see their faces clearly.

Where am I...?

Who are those two people?

Is this the source of all causal information? ...

Fushimi took a step forward and tried to get closer.

Consciousness begins to gradually blur and collapse, and most of the information that was previously hard-won is forgotten.

Only everything about this hospital was firmly imprinted in my mind.

The next moment, Fushimi fell into a complete coma...