Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam (Bungo Stray Dogs 1)

He lifts his arm into the air only to swing it down once more, crashing me into the floor like a flyswatter. He repeatedly slams me on the ground. It feels like being hit by a train over and over again. My bones crack; my skin tears. The numbers on my body have already decreased to “21.”

“That number is how much time you have left to live! Once it reaches zero, you writhe in pain until you’re dead! Nobody can escape their fate! Nobody! Nobody! Nobody! Nobody!”

The acceleration stops, but I’m unable to even lift a finger. It’s as if every muscle in my body is torn. A warm liquid creeps into every breath.

“Give up yet, Detective?”

The young man casually approaches me as I remain lying on the ground, unable to move. It hurts to breathe. Every joint in my body is screaming in pain.

“I shoulda killed you all one by one like this from the start. I didn’t need to go through the trouble of framing the mysterious newcomer to bring down the detective agency from the inside. Besides, that strategy failed anyway.”

The young man stands next to me and casually kicks me in the head. I see stars, but I can’t do anything about it.

“But it’s always good to be optimistic. I’ll kill you, kill you, and after that, I’ll kill your friend upstairs—kill him, too. After that, the plane’s gonna crash, and the detective agency’s rep will be ruined, and that’ll make my work in Yokohama a little easier. It’ll make it a little easier, right?”

“Your work…?”

“I’m sick and tired of shuffling goods in secret while living in fear of private organizations of skill users like yours. I’m gonna live in a world where I can buy all the organs I need and sell all the weapons I want. I’ll make a killing.”

Organs…and weapons.

This is the organ-trafficking syndicate! If the Port Mafia are the sellers, then that would make these guys the buyers. They’re an underground criminal organization and general trading company in the black market for illegal goods such as organs and weapons. They have countless smugglers under their banner and ties with criminal organizations domestically and internationally.

“I learned from the Azure King incident that the Armed Detective Agency isn’t to be taken lightly. We’re big on discretion. We crush our enemies before they’re a threat. That’s the basics of the basics of business.”

The numbers on my body are now at “11.” I guess whatever happened to the taxi driver and Alamta is going to happen to me if these reach “00.”

“…You seem to be making good money selling weapons to foreign merchants.”

“There’s so much to like about this city: the Port Mafia, the conflict in the foreign communities, the lawless areas of Yokohama, and the fights just waiting to escalate. I love this place.”

He’s right. The fighting in this city will never disappear. An arms dealer such as him must feel like a ship’s captain arriving at a new frontier. They buy organs or foolhardy thugs to sell to foreign syndicates, while bringing smuggled military weapons and seasoned mercenaries into the country to make a profit. And just like that, a new death trade is carried in from abroad to a world where the law and morals are meaningless.

However…

“I…cannot allow you to sell any more weapons. Even the smallest street fight could end with serious injuries or death if a dagger or firearm was brought into the equation. That’s why—”

“Whoa, there. What d’you think you’re doing?”

The enemy raises his arm, sending my body straight up. As the air is expelled from my lungs, the notebook I was hiding in my breast pocket slips out.

Shit!

“You thought you could buy some time talking so you could write in your notebook, huh? But that’s not happening. That is not happening. I know what your skill is. Anyway, I’ll be taking this.”

He holds the notebook in the air and shakes it at me. My skill has two disadvantages: One is the fact that it takes time to write something in my notebook and rip out the page. The other…is the fact that I cannot use my skill at all if my notebook has been stolen.

Just like that, my skill has been completely neutralized. I still have my wire gun from the last fight tucked in my belt behind me, but it doesn’t have enough power to kill, let alone seriously wound someone. Nevertheless, I cannot give up. That’s the one thing I can’t do. Not because I have to save the lives of the victims on the plane or because it’s my job as a detective at the Armed Detective Agency, but because I’ve decided that’s what needs to be done.

An agonizing pain shoots down my body, but I ignore it and get to my feet.

“Wow… Your eyes still got a little life in ’em, huh? Guess that means you want seconds!”

I take another hit from behind that spins me around and rams me into the ground.

“Gah…!”

I cough up blood. My vision blurs. I don’t even know what kind of position my body is in anymore.