Moriyama Yasurou stood among the crowd, and to fit in, she also clapped along.
She slightly tilted her head and whispered to the Yaksha beside her, "Looking at this setup... can she leave now?"
"Of course, we’re not some kind of perverse murderers," Yaksha replied, "Witnessing mortals transcend themselves and sharing in the joy of victory with the winner, there’s nothing more thrilling than that."
Though it was something she probably shouldn’t ask, Moriyama Yasurou couldn’t help her curiosity, "Isn’t there a worry about her... taking responsibility once she’s out?"
Yaksha glanced at her, his gaze somewhat intriguing, "This is a private island, do you understand what a private island means?"
"Buying and selling islands in Japan isn’t uncommon; a seven hundred thousand square meter island in Okinawa only costs sixty million dollars, and some islands can even be bought for just six hundred yen, given Japan has over six thousand eight hundred islands, most uninhabited. It would be a shame not to buy and sell them."
"A private island is similar to a private residence; without a search warrant or other legal documents, police are not allowed to investigate on the island without permission... Of course, in cases of emergency or pursuing criminals, they can directly land on the island. To prevent this, the island’s coastline is guarded around the clock."
"As long as no photos are leaked and there’s no public pressure, the Police Department won’t send anyone to investigate..."
At this point, Yaksha paused, then added, "Even if they do, it won’t matter, the court will not issue an investigation order because, as I said earlier, there is a military presence here... Our clients are not only Japanese, and everyone is aware of who the real master of Japan is."
Upon hearing this, Moriyama Yasurou’s fingertips turned cold. She wanted to retort, saying the Japan Metropolitan Police Department would never be so incompetent.
But as the words reached her lips, she swallowed them back down.
Given what she knew of Minamoto Tamako, once the latter left, she surely wouldn’t let it slide. Even if it took her whole life and she ended up shattered, she would investigate to the end.
Yaksha also slightly tilted his head, bringing his face close, making Moriyama Yasurou uncomfortable. Yaksha’s eyes seemed to see through her through the gaps in the mask, as he softly said:
"However, most people wouldn’t leave easily; they would choose to stay instead."
Moriyama Yasurou wanted to ask ’why,’ but quickly realized she was asking too much, possibly arousing the other’s suspicion.
She held her tongue, shifted the topic, trying to pique Yaksha’s vanity again, "Ah, I see, that’s impressive... What should I call you?"
"Just call me ’A-Qi’."
"A code name? How mysterious... Why does Mr. Seven know so much? Unlike me, a bit silly, I still haven’t quite figured out the rules..."
"Because I am one of the designers," said Yaksha, with eyes behind the mask seemingly flashing a hint of a smile, "Miss Moriyama isn’t silly at all."
Moriyama Yasurou was startled. She didn’t know how she exposed herself, instinctively reaching into her handbag to grasp the milk can fragment, ready to stab him and make a quick getaway while others were still clapping.
The other seemed to guess what she intended, hastily stepping back to put some distance with hands defensively raised, saying, "Don’t act rashly, don’t misunderstand, I have no ill intention."
Moriyama Yasurou didn’t reply, her gaze scanned up and down, probably calculating where to strike.
"If I had ill intentions, I would have called for others from the beginning," he continued, "Don’t equate me with that group of lunatics."
"Aren’t you the designer they hired?" Moriyama Yasurou thought it made sense but still didn’t let down her guard.
"Who would have a good relationship with a client?" A-Qi retorted.
This question stumped Moriyama Yasurou. As a police station chief, she’d done some outsourcing work and understood what he meant.
Seeing her demeanor slightly relax, A-Qi also gradually lowered his hands, sat back in a chair, and sighed, "Working for others these days is really tough... To be honest, Master Asahara’s taste is really poor; it can be seen from their previous church; everything is filled with the smell of money..."
He patted the chair beside him, inviting, "Shall we sit back down and chat?"
Moriyama Yasurou was skeptical, looked around, saw no guards approaching, then cautiously sat down, "How did you discover me?"
A-Qi unbuttoned his suit, took out an electronic screen from the lining, covered with dense red dots, "Each believer implanted with GPS tracking chips makes everything in the monitoring room perfectly clear. I also secretly left a backdoor..."
As he spoke, he pointed to a particularly conspicuous red dot at the center of a blank space, "Look, that’s you... obvious, no? So, I came to check out what’s going on."
Hearing this, Moriyama Yasurou was frightened, realizing this place was no longer safe, ready to slip away, but A-Qi continued, "It’s strange, isn’t the Master watching surveillance today?"
"The Master is responsible for watching the surveillance?" Moriyama Yasurou asked.
"What else? That’s his primary job, watching surveillance, punishing believers, catching fugitives... The monitoring room is not open to ordinary believers. Om Truth Sect claims that the Master has Divine Power and can communicate with the gods, and the gods see everyone, running away is futile."
A-Qi shrugged, sneering at such deceitful statements.
Moriyama Yasurou, having experienced black room brainwashing, knew how terrifying it was. For any ordinary person unfamiliar with electronic devices, they might easily believe such things and even regard the Master as an omniscient divine messenger.
"Since you are a designer, you should know where the exit is, right..."
She clenched the milk can fragment again.
"I don’t know," A-Qi replied, "’Seven’ is my job number; above are Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, and the chief designer. I only participated in designing the Seven Sins Temple; other parts I am unaware of."
"Are you fooling me?" Moriyama Yasurou didn’t believe it.
"What, you want to leave?" A-Qi countered.
"What else?" Moriyama Yasurou replied.
"Maybe you haven’t wholeheartedly experienced the charm of the New World," A-Qi pointed to the jackpot on the giant screen, "See that prize? Just now you threw down the smallest denomination chip, it’s about this amount."
As he finished speaking, the giant electronic screen began settling the bets, with croupiers distributing chips in each section.
A cheerful melody played as a croupier walked up with a tray full of chips, loudly announcing that this lucky lady is the biggest winner of the night!
Originally, she wanted to mentally calculate the approximate amount but soon gave up. For everyone present, money was just a number.
No matter how much you win, what’s the point if you can’t take it with you?
A-Qi seemed to guess her thoughts, leaned in, and whispered, "With this money, you can gamble your life with anyone... including Master Asahara himself."