In a telephone booth not far from the parked police cars, Hayashi Shuichi was currently on the line.
"...And that's the gist of it, Inspector Samezaki. Is it possible for the Metropolitan Police Department to take over this case?"
"It's possible, certainly," Inspector Samezaki's voice came through the receiver, tinged with confusion. "But the Bunkyo Precinct is already investigating. Why go through the extra trouble of a transfer?"
"The Inspector over at Bunkyo... based on the look he gave me earlier, he looked like he wanted to eat me alive," Shuichi explained calmly. "They can't easily move against me, so I'm worried they'll take their frustrations out on Matsuda Jotaro instead."
"Fair enough. Since you're concerned about that, I'll go speak with Management Officer Odagiri right now," Samezaki promised. "I'll personally lead a team to the performance hall in a few minutes."
By the time Shuichi returned to the hall and found his seat, the boxing finals had already begun.
The atmosphere inside was electric. Cheers and roars from the spectators rose and fell in waves, a cacophony so intense it felt as though the roof might be blown right off the building.
Reiko, who had returned ahead of him, had already filled the Kujos in on everything that had transpired backstage. Both husband and wife seemed satisfied with how Shuichi had handled the situation.
"You're back late," Kujo Keiyuki noted as Shuichi sat down. "I assume you were calling the First Investigation Division to have them take over Matsuda Jotaro's case?"
"Yes." Shuichi nodded. "I was worried the officers from the Bunkyo Precinct might try to retaliate against him."
"Onii-chan, if you were worried about that, why didn't you just tell that officer directly that the MPD was taking over?" Reiko asked, tilting her head in confusion. "You are a special consultant for the First Division, after all."
"My 'consultant' title isn't exactly a position with real administrative power," Shuichi replied with a faint, amused smile. "The officers in the First Division only listen to me because I help them close cases."
He paused, watching the ring. "If I had used that title to pressure that Inspector directly, things would have likely turned sour. For Matsuda Jotaro, his priority right now is winning this final, not the legal case. Making an enemy of the local police right before he steps into the ring wouldn't have helped him."
"So, Onii-chan put on a show of letting them handle it to put them at ease, only to go behind their backs and have Inspector Samezaki intervene?" Reiko looked at her brother with a mischievous grin. "Onii-chan, you're so devious."
"That's not devious!" Shuichi chuckled, reaching over to playfully pinch his sister's cheek. "It's called strategy. By the way, where are the Hagiwaras?"
"Their seats are further down, closer to the ring," Reiko said, shooting him a sidelong glance. "You've only been gone for a few minutes, Onii-chan. Are you already missing Miss Hagiwara?"
"Is my little sister getting jealous again?" Shuichi laughed, pulling her into a brief, affectionate half-hug.
As the siblings spoke, Matsuda Jotaro was putting on a masterclass in the ring. He was in top form, leading in points for three consecutive rounds. The roar of the crowd was like thunder, and the entire hall was swept up in the heat of the moment.
"Matsuda Jotaro is incredible," Kujo Kotona remarked, impressed. "At this rate, his victory is guaranteed, isn't it?"
"Not necessarily," Keiyuki, a seasoned boxing enthusiast, shook his head as he analyzed the fight for his wife. "Today's final is a fifteen-round match. Matsuda is fighting with too much urgency. He's scoring a lot early on, but he's burning through his stamina. If he overexerts himself now, he might not be able to hold on in the later rounds."
Keiyuki frowned slightly. "I've watched his previous matches on TV; he usually fights with a very steady, calculated rhythm. To be this aggressive today... it seems the incident earlier is still weighing on his mind."
"I've done everything I can," Shuichi sighed softly, a touch of helplessness in his voice. "Whether he wins or not... in the end, it's up to him."
The match proceeded exactly as Shuichi's uncle had predicted. Although Matsuda Jotaro maintained his lead through the opening rounds, the drain on his physical strength soon became apparent.
His movements grew sluggish. His opponent seized the opening and began a fierce counterattack. As time ticked away and they reached the final round, the score between the two men had completely leveled out.
The atmosphere in the hall turned suffocatingly tense. The spectators held their collective breath, their eyes glued to the ring.
As the referee signaled the start of the final round, Matsuda Jotaro swung his fists with everything he had left. However, his opponent showed no signs of panic, dodging the blows with deliberate, measured movements.
"This is bad," Keiyuki said, his face etched with worry. "Matsuda pushed too hard in the beginning. Looking at him now, he can barely keep his footing. I'm afraid he's going to lose today."
It was an opinion shared by many in the audience. Several gamblers who had bet on Matsuda began to shout profanities, their encouragement turning into bitter insults.
Shuichi didn't know much about the technical rules of boxing, but seeing the situation, he could only silently cheer for the man in his heart.
Near the ring, Matsuda Jinpei and the Hagiwara siblings were watching with pale faces. Jinpei, despite his young age, knew exactly how much blood, sweat, and tears his father had poured into this day.
Seeing his father's heavy footsteps—how every swing of his arm seemed like an agonizing struggle—while hearing the venomous shouts of the crowd around him, Jinpei's eyes turned red. His small hands clenched into tight fists, his face a mask of fury and desperation.
Finally, unable to contain it any longer, he scrambled up and stood directly on his seat, screaming toward the ring with all his might:
"Dad! Keep going!"
The boy's voice was crisp and piercing, cutting through the chaotic roar of the stadium with startling clarity.
"Dad! You're going to win!" Jinpei's face turned bright red as he screamed until his voice cracked. "I believe in you!"
On the ring, Matsuda Jotaro's vision was swimming, his mind clouded by exhaustion and sweat. But at the sound of his son's voice, his focus snapped back. He looked through the crowd, his eyes locking onto his son's.
Seeing the boy's desperate, cheering figure, Jotaro wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and gave a small, determined pump of his glove toward Jinpei.
His opponent, Kuroki Takeshi, saw this as the perfect opening. Thinking victory was within his grasp, he lunged forward, intending to deliver a knockout blow and claim the championship.
But he didn't expect that the "exhausted" Matsuda Jotaro would suddenly explode with a terrifying burst of strength. A savage left hook swung out, connecting squarely with Kuroki's jaw before the opponent's fist could land.
Kuroki Takeshi went down like a felled tree.
That single punch had drained the last of Jotaro's strength. He could only stoop over, hands braced against his knees, forcing himself to stay upright as he watched the referee begin the count.
"One... two..."
The performance hall fell into a deathly silence. Everyone waited, suspended in time.
When the referee reached "five," Kuroki twitched. But by the time he reached "ten," the man still hadn't managed to push himself off the canvas.
The final bell rang out, echoing through the rafters. The referee grabbed Matsuda Jotaro's right hand and hoisted it high into the air, announcing the victor of the night.
"The winner—Matsuda Jotaro!"
A tide of cheers immediately swallowed the hall.
Jinpei and the Hagiwara siblings scrambled through the crowd to the edge of the ring. With a boost from the siblings, Jinpei climbed over the ropes and threw himself into his father's bruised arms.
"Dad, you won!"
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