Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 8 - Chapter 2.2

Chuuya strode briskly through an alleyway, and I followed, matching his pace. After a ten-minute walk from the church, Chuuya turned around.

“Let’s get one thing straight, tin man. I don’t like you. I’m fine with lettin’ you tag along ’cause you’ve got a lot of useful functions, but in return, you’re gonna need to follow my every command. You need to prioritize my orders even over the ones you get from your detective headquarters or whatever it’s called. Otherwise I’m not goin’ with you.”

“You’re asking me to override the current authority to command?”

“Yep.”

I considered the situation logically. The highest in command was the investigation team, followed by Dr. Wollstonecraft. If I made Chuuya the highest in command and overwrote the investigation team’s current position, that could possibly cancel out the purpose of my existence, which was to prioritize the mission. But if I didn’t follow Chuuya’s orders, then I would not be able to continue said mission.

The situation was highly contradictory. It was as if someone in charge said, “I order you not to follow my orders.” The average AI would cease to function due to the infinite loop of resources necessary to compute the contradiction. I, on the other hand, am the latest model of AI. The doctor predicted something like this might happen and integrated a subroutine within me to help me solve contradicting orders. The solution was extremely simple:

Follow your heart.

“Order acknowledged. I will now override the line of command protocol.”

After getting down on one knee, I respectfully bowed my head.

“I have reset the line of command with Master Chuuya at the highest ranking. Your wish is my command.”

He looked at me, flabbergasted.

“You sure?” he asked.

“I am. I determined that you would never order me to do anything unwise.”

His eyes opened wide for a few moments before he placed a hand over his face and heaved an exaggerated sigh.

“Haaah… Am I being tested by a damn machine? ’Cause that’s what it sounds like. And ‘Master’? Seriously?”

“I am programmed to call the highest in command Master by default.”

“You can’t change it?”

“I can, but doing so would remove you from highest in command. Is that okay?”

“What? No. Of course not.” Master Chuuya grimaced. “Ah, whatever. We’re wastin’ our time. Just tell me what you learned. You have info on Verlaine, right?”

“Yes. Allow me to explain. But before that, would you like a piece of gum?”

I stood up and took out the gum from earlier. I decided that a light meal could relieve some of his stress before my long explanation. Master Chuuya looked at the gum, then at me, then at the gum once more.

“No,” he eventually replied with a bewildered gaze. That was unfortunate.

“Very well.”

After unwrapping the gum, I tossed it into my mouth, chewed it a few times, and swallowed. Gulp. Delicious. He stared at me as if he found the sight peculiar.

“Now, allow me to explain,” I began. “I will start from the beginning. Verlaine is an assassin, so he wouldn’t have gone on a killing spree at the airport to force his way into this country. That would make it harder for him to move around freely once he was inside. He likely used a fake passport and a disguise just like any other criminal. Verlaine, however, is a lone wolf; he does not work with anyone. He doesn’t have anyone he trusts who could have made him a passport or provided some way for him to enter the country. In other words, he needed to pay a smuggler to sneak him in. So far, so good?”

I consumed another piece of gum.

“Ew,” Master Chuuya groaned weakly. Perhaps he had a stomachache?

“However, the number of smugglers he could have used this time is extremely small. Because for the most part, criminals—the brains of operations—are usually cowards who value horizontal relationships with their peers. In other words, most smugglers here either work under the protection of the Port Mafia or, at the very least, have some sort of mutually beneficial connection with them.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point. I guess that means Verlaine couldn’t use anyone who might betray him and rat him out to the Mafia,” agreed Master Chuuya. “You sure understand a lot about what goes on around here.”

“Well, machines do make far better investigators than humans,” I replied after swallowing another piece of gum. “Then I compared the Japanese police force’s list of smugglers with the list of smugglers who work under the Port Mafia and cross-checked until I found several people who were not in the Mafia’s database.”

“The Mafia’s and police’s lists? How’d ya get your hands on those?”

“I hacked into their databases,” I replied. I could even hack into a moving car’s GPS if I wanted. Browsing a database was easier than breathing to me. I had never breathed before, so I was only guessing, though. “There were four possible smugglers. I went down the list and started investigating them this morning until I found the one who snuck Verlaine into the country.”

“Ha-ha. Looks like you’re good at more than just pool. What a relief.” Master Chuuya raised his eyebrows. “So? What’d you do? Hang him upside down and strangle the information out of him?”

“No, I do not possess such functions. Hurting the smuggler would only draw Verlaine’s attention.” I shook my head. “Instead, I used the smuggler’s pay statements to uncover what exactly Verlaine ordered from him. I imagine you must know that these sorts of smugglers usually deliver supplies as well,” I explained while finishing off the second to last piece of gum. “These criminals provide hideouts, cars, guns, and even underground doctors for a price. Verlaine paid this particular individual for three separate items.”

“Like a hideout?”

“Unfortunately not.” I shook my head again. “But I found a clue during my investigation. First, this.”

I showed Master Chuuya a photograph of a tree branch around the same thickness and length of a human wrist.

“What is it?”

“A white birch branch. Whenever Verlaine assassinates someone, he leaves a cross carved from a locally grown white birch. That is his calling card; there have been no exceptions so far. He asked the smuggler to find him four white birch branches. And…”

I took out another photo.

“…I found one of them at the pool hall.”

A roughly made hand-carved cross was lying on the floor. The cross was among strewn fragments of the wooden floor, making it difficult to distinguish, but it was clearly a different type of wood.

Master Chuuya furrowed his brow. “And there’s three more to come, huh?”

“Yes. There is a high chance he has three more targets.”

“I’m going to kill every human who matters to you.”

Those were Verlaine’s words. I didn’t know how he selected the people who he believed meant something to Master Chuuya. Perhaps a Mafia insider helped him out. Nevertheless, Verlaine still had three more people he planned to kill in this country.

“But this is also a good opportunity for us,” I assured Master Chuuya. “Verlaine is an elusive individual with an unparalleled competitive edge in battle. There is no way to defeat him by attacking head-on. However, he follows a ritualistic system with his assassinations. He will appear before his next target without fail. Therefore, we should be able to set up a trap for him as long as we know who that next target is.”

“Good point,” agreed Master Chuuya. “So got any idea who it is?”

“It is still too early to tell.” I took out one more photograph. “There are two more things Verlaine asked the smuggler to get him. Have a look at these.”

The photograph showed an admission pass for an automobile assembly plant and a slightly outdated blue clamshell phone.

“These most likely have something to do with his next assassination,” I said. “However, this is where I need your help. Verlaine is going after someone you are close with. Do you have any idea who that could be?”

Master Chuuya quietly glared at the photo without answering my question. It was as if someone dear to him was carved into it.

“A factory, eh?” he spat. “Tsk. I know who his next target is.”

He angrily crushed the photograph in his hand, then began to stride off. “Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

He ignored my question, instead swiping the last piece of gum out of my hand and tossing it into his mouth. As he walked away, he inflated the gum and created a balloon-like bubble.

I couldn’t possibly describe the surprise I felt at that moment. That was how you were supposed to eat it?!