"Miss Kaori, please tell me the details."
Hayashi Yoshiki arrived at the office not long after being called.
Just as he stepped in, Amuro Toru—as punctual as ever—handed him a freshly brewed cup of tea.
"Yes, Mr. Hayashi. My father disappeared two months ago… and I haven't heard from him since."
Kaori Shinmei wasted no time with pleasantries. Her voice trembled with urgency.
Amuro, standing behind Hayashi Yoshiki, raised his eyebrows.
"But hasn't Mr. Rentaro Shinmei been publishing his serialized novel in Literary Times Weekly these past two months? Right up to this week?"
"What I said is true!" Kaori's voice rose slightly.
"My father and mother vanished from our home two months ago—exactly one week before the serialization resumed. He left only a note: 'I'm going out for a while.' That's all."
She clutched the fabric of her sleeves, knuckles white.
"I asked all our relatives, friends… no one has seen them."
Yoshiki gently sipped the tea. He usually wasn't fond of it—but this blend, prepared by Amuro, had a truly comforting aroma. He glanced up at him in appreciation.
"And the publisher? Have you spoken with them?" he asked.
"Yes. They said my father faxes the manuscript every Saturday morning. But… they've never seen him in person either."
"Did you report this to the police?" Amuro asked, tapping his chin.
"I did. They issued a search warrant. But there were no ransom calls, and since manuscripts kept arriving as usual, the police just told me to be patient."
Her voice cracked. She lowered her head. Mist pooled in her eyes—and then spilled over.
"I know… Mr. Hayashi usually doesn't accept missing-person cases. But I've already gone to several agencies, and they all said the same thing. I'm out of options…"
Hayashi Yoshiki placed the teacup down gently. The light clink of porcelain echoed softly in the quiet room.
A smile curled on his lips—warm, reassuring.
"While we normally don't take on these types of cases, the agency's purpose has always been to help those in need. Amuro, can you fetch the past issues of Literary Times Weekly from the shelf?"
Kaori looked up, stunned.
A flicker of hope returned to her eyes.
"Of course," Amuro replied, already walking to the shelf with a smile.
Yoshiki flipped through the magazines as they were brought to the desk.
"We can't rule out the possibility that your parents are simply traveling," he said. "But for Mr. Rentaro to not contact you for two months… is strange. Let's take a closer look at his latest serialized work. There might be something hidden there."
Amuro added, "Now that you mention it… Mr. Rentaro hadn't written anything for four years. Detective Samonji was over. Then, out of nowhere, he begins a new serialization—just before disappearing."
"And the new story is different in tone," he continued. "A tribute to Sherlock Holmes, in a way. He inserts himself into the narrative—becoming the Watson-like side character. He's never done that before."
"Could you help me find all the serialized chapters?" Yoshiki asked.
Both Amuro and Kaori immediately collected the relevant issues.
Yoshiki began scanning the pages quickly.
Amuro, unable to resist, leaned over to study them with him.
But no matter what method they used—first-line decoding, end-of-line encoding, letter-shifting ciphers, symbolic substitution, French pronunciation rules—nothing jumped out.
Was it not embedded in the text at all?
Was something missing?
Amuro looked at Kaori, who was anxiously awaiting a miracle and didn't have the heart to say the theory might be wrong.
"He's in room 2407 of the Beihu Municipal Hotel."
Yoshiki closed the book and spoke calmly.
"Huh?" Amuro blinked. "Boss?"
His jaw fell open as he looked from the novel to Yoshiki. The magazine still brimmed with densely packed, plain text.
"We'd better head to the Beihu Hotel now," Yoshiki said, rising.
Kaori, still stunned, hurriedly followed: "Mr. Hayashi… Is my father in danger?"
"Hard to say," Yoshiki replied. "But judging from the signature at the end of each serialized chapter… something's not right."
Hearing this, Amuro flipped through the back pages.
And there it was—clear as day.
From chapters 1 through 6, the signature was handwritten—each slightly different.
But starting from chapter 7… it was identical. A copied image of the same signature, reused again and again.
No time to dwell on it.
He grabbed the keys and drove the car himself, leaving Kaori and Yoshiki to climb into the back.
Halfway to the hotel, Amuro finally asked:
"Boss… why Beihu Hotel?"
"The key is in chapter one," Yoshiki replied, unfazed. "According to the story's structure, the topmost character in each line is a fragment. When you pair adjacent lines together, the fragments form new words."
"That led me to the first decoded sentence. But that cipher didn't work on the rest of the story…"
"That's because from chapter two onward, you need to combine that method with the story's internal setting—Mr. Rentaro inserted himself as a character living in Paris."
"Using that context, and the implied silent H in the French-style grammar, the full message becomes apparent once transliterated into Japanese Romaji."
He explained all this casually while replying to a few text messages on his phone.
Amuro, gripping the steering wheel, stared ahead—his thoughts racing.
To lock in on the precise clue instantly?
To decode such a layered cipher from seemingly mundane prose?
All in under five minutes?
Even while casually sipping tea and reading text messages?
He hadn't just cracked a hidden code—he'd caught the subtle change in handwriting before anyone else even opened the book.
Terrifying observation. Terrifying mind.
This was Hayashi Yoshiki is not an ordinary detective.
And the game was just beginning.