Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner-Chapter 841 - 506: Midnight Radio Station
Fifteen minutes later, Fushimi Roku got the radio as he wished.
The police had done some tampering inside the radio; it contained a tracker, a recorder, and a mini explosive.
Fushimi Roku carefully checked everything, one by one removed them, confirmed there were no issues, and began tuning:
"Test sound poetry..."
"This is the late-night radio, your moon, my heart, the good man is me, I am Fushimi Roku..."
"Today we bring you a special program, the radio hotline is xxx, you can call during the upcoming Q&A session..."
Fushimi Roku casually grabbed a hostage, letting him sit next to him: "Currently sitting next to me is Section Chief Kawada Yoshiyuki from the Foreign Affairs Section Two of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, who faces prosecution for grave charges such as ’intentional murder’, ’human trafficking’, ’gross misconduct’, ’collusion with cults’... To save time, I will now give him five minutes to defend himself."
Saying this, he turned the hourglass: "Let the timing begin now."
Kawada Yoshiyuki sat beside the small radio, stunned for a whole three minutes.
During these three minutes, he realized that pleading for mercy privately and announcing crimes publicly were two different things. Moreover, regardless of what he said, he was going to die tonight.
Since it’s a death anyway, better leave behind a clear name.
Kawada Yoshiyuki took a deep breath, straightened his back, and looked steadily at the radio microphone.
His voice was steady and powerful, echoing in the conference room:
"Listeners, I am Kawada Yoshiyuki, Section Chief of the Foreign Affairs Section Two at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. I am indeed in danger at the moment, but I want to tell everyone—the truth will never be coerced into distortion!"
He deliberately slowed down his speech, every word resounded firmly: "The police have never stopped pursuing the truth, my colleagues are fighting for justice right now. Terrorists attempt to use violence to smear the judicial system, but I want to say: Japan’s laws must not be desecrated, the dignity of police badges must not be defiled!"
Kawada Yoshiyuki suddenly raised his tone, almost shouting: "Remember this frequency! Remember every word at this moment! No matter how they threaten, true police will always uphold justice—"
"Good!" Fushimi Roku applauded loudly.
Kawada Yoshiyuki was about to continue condemning the terrorists’ violence when a phone in the corner suddenly rang.
"Looks like there’s a listener calling the radio hotline, let’s connect and hear the thoughts of the listeners now."
Fushimi Roku picked up the phone, placed it next to the microphone, and turned on the external speaker: "Hello, this is the Moon Live Radio Station, do you have anything you’d like to say?"
An angry male voice came through: "That bastard still has the face to argue?! My sister disappeared after getting her visa, it was Kawada who sold her to the Aum Truth Sect! She was only sixteen, and you closed the case as a ’missing person’ hastily!"
"Now you pretend to be righteous? Before the hourglass runs out, I want you to confess your crimes! Die, scum—"
Another phone rang, interrupting the caller’s speech.
Fushimi Roku held the microphone tightly and said: "Looks like it’s lively tonight, the listeners are very enthusiastic, we’ve already heard the previous caller’s statement."
He glanced at Kawada Yoshiyuki: "Now Mr. Kawada has a very unpleasant expression, his forehead is covered in sweat, seeming very tense. Only a minute remains in the countdown, let’s connect the next caller."
Fushimi Roku pressed the connect button, the voice of the negotiation expert came: "I am Sato from the Police Department’s crisis negotiation team, I can understand your anger, but violence will only make things worse. Section Chief Kawada’s crimes will be judged by the law, and what you’re doing now is only dragging more innocents into tragedy..."
Fushimi Roku impatiently hung up the phone.
He picked up the radio microphone, warning: "If the police occupy the hotline again, I will immediately execute a hostage—as a warning, you will receive Kawada Yoshiyuki’s corpse."
"Wait—"
Kawada Yoshiyuki didn’t have time to plead for mercy, a gun muzzle appeared in front of him, followed by a gunshot, a bloody hole appeared on his forehead, his consciousness sank into darkness, he collapsed backward to the floor.
There was no chaos in the conference room, no screams, only seasoned criminal police elites were present, maintaining cold restraint, they silently sat around the long table, watching their companion’s body being thrown out of the window by Fushimi Roku.
"Alright, next one."
Fushimi Roku eagerly rubbed his hands, randomly calling names: "Uesugi Rinya..." He just called out a name, another call came in.
Fushimi Roku answered the phone: "Hello?"
Kazama Tatsuya’s voice came from the other end: "It’s me, do you know what you are doing..."
Fushimi Roku immediately hung up the phone, but another call came in right after, this time it was Moriyama Yasurou calling. She received a commission from the police, with reinstatement as a reward, she needed to come forward to persuade Fushimi Roku.
But as soon as she started speaking, Fushimi Roku hung up the phone.
Then several familiar faces called in, Fushimi Roku had to warn again, if irrelevant matters to the trial were discussed, he would execute a hostage again, and thus the call frequency decreased.
After all, the small radio’s coverage is only about a dozen kilometers, roughly equivalent to the size of a school campus, typically used by campus radios.
He knew Minamoto Tamako was listening, but she never called.
In the following hour, Fushimi Roku executed twelve people at a fixed rate of five minutes per person.
The emotions of the hostages in the conference room were on the verge of collapse, waiting for death was far more torturous than death itself. The police probably blocked the frequency band, afterward, no matter what Fushimi Roku said on the radio, there was no response, nor any hotline calls coming in.
