Yukichi Fukuzawa

The door to the Armed Detective Agency closed behind yet another visitor, leaving nothing in the hallway but the muffled hum of the city. Inside, it was unusually quiet: most of the staff had already departed for their own affairs, and only the soft rustle of turning pages disturbed the evening stillness.

Yukichi Fukuzawa sat at his desk, reviewing paperwork, when footsteps echoed outside the door once more. This time, they stopped right at the entrance to his office. A few seconds of silence followed. Then, a knock.

— Enter.

The Director's calm voice rang out without a hint of irritation. As the door opened, Fukuzawa lifted his gaze from the documents. His attention was immediately drawn to the fact that you seemed to be in quite a hurry.

Fukuzawa set his papers aside and gestured toward the empty seat across from him.

— If you have come to the Agency at such an hour, I presume the matter is of some importance.

He watched you intently, yet he did not rush you for an explanation. Outside the window, the lights of Yokohama flickered, and a car passed by below, momentarily cutting through the silence of the office with the sweep of its headlights.

— Tell me, what has happened? How exactly can we help you?

A notebook lay at the edge of the desk, ready for notes. Fukuzawa was clearly prepared to listen to everything from beginning to end—it was up to you to decide where to start.