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Keisatsu v.s. Yakuza :: TeniPuri RPG

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Log: (self) Amane Hikaru [Aug. 28th, 2005|02:58 am]
Keisatsu v.s. Yakuza :: TeniPuri RPG


[mood |accomplishedaccomplished]
[music |Funny Bunny by The Pillows]

Date: 21st - 27th August.
Rating: G. Or do they have D.O for detail overload? XD
Summary: Joker goes working on Hana-sama's orders. Hmm. Many left dead.
Note: (ooc) I'm really sorry if this is cinematic. Like I go describing things that can well be taken for granted and such. But just forgive the novelist yah? ._. よろしくおねがいしあす!~

He plugged the little ticket through the slot and the barrier opened up. Walking past the gates, he silently enjoyed the idea of a holiday. And he was really eager too. Maybe a little too eager, but that little feeling always made things get a little... smoother.

Brisk footsteps brought him to the platform, where he found himself standing next to the glassy advertisement panelling. The reflection staring back at him was a man in his late thirties. He had a neatly pressed blue suit and tie, matt-black leather shoes and a smart Pierre Cardin briefcase. The lights reflected off a slightly receding hairline, but the rest of his short blackish-grey hair was combed neatly in place. On his face, he sports thick gold-rimmed spectacles, which gave him an intellectual look. And his wrinkles and bulgy tummy could have seen better days.

One brief glance around the busy platform showed about 30 other similar men. All rushing back to their families on a Friday night, leaving busy Tokyo for the weekend. Leaving all the bloody work behind. Well, maybe not all. One of these men didn’t have a family to go home to. One of these men didn’t join the mass exodus every Friday night. One of these men was involved in work that might just turn bloody. And one of these men was a fake. And for that man, his work was just beginning.

 Joker smiled. Discreetly, in case the make-up caked. ‘Just perfect.’ He thought.


The intercom blared. “Train approaching. Please stand back. Please allow passengers to alight before boarding in an orderly manner. Thank you for your co-operation.”

Mindfully, he backed away from the edge of the platform, for fear that his wig might get blown off. And then the whole world would see him in his big, bad, unwaxed, wig-flattened hair. He’d look worse than a squashed persimmon. The ultimate disgrace. Oh, and his cover could get blown. Literally blown.

Mingling with the crowd, he got into a carriage. Then, like all working men do when on a long train ride, he helped himself to a copy of the daily Shimbun and hid himself behind the dusty papers. Letting his eyes wander to a random paragraph, he started to replay the instructions in his head.

Corn on the cob stall
Buy corn (lunch)
Consume it (ravenously – NOT!)
Do what I do best (With a straight face. To add more oomph.)

Then, he paused a while to savour his private joke. And also to decide which one he should use on his poor, defenceless (corn?) accomplice. 5 minutes had passed, the average time it takes for a normal person to finish reading an article. He promptly turned the page to avoid suspicion.

Uchida Takeshi
Get envelope
Check for ID
Check for XXX (BE CAREFUL!! Says Hana-sama)
Deliver XXX
Hokkaido Prefectural Police Headquarters

Flips. Now he had all the time in the world - well, actually until Sapporo, - to decide and plan out on the second part of his mission: The Delivery. The train rumbled on. Joker put his paper down and looked out of the window, onto a vast blanket of darkness. The skyline drew his attention with its beautiful architecture and the city lights in the distance stood out like numerous trinkets on a Christmas tree. And the real stars hung on the velvet of the navy-maroon night, twinkling more beautifully than ever. It would have been quite something to camp and sleep out under those stars. And since it was summer, he wouldn’t risk getting frozen and landing in hospital for hypothermia.

‘Come on, work first.’ He mentally chided himself. But that didn’t stop him from looking out the window. Peering out more closely, he found stars on the ground too. But it was only the reflection on the water. Then a thought struck him. Water.

Hmm, woe to them who didn’t think of it earlier. Smiling an insider’s smile, he surfaced a plan of the headquarters in his head. Duh. The main frame of Plan B was settled for the moment. Joker stared out into the open for the rest of the journey. It would be a while more, just a little while more.


“Sapporo station. Sapporo station. Thank you for travelling with us. Have a safe trip.”

Cue to get off and check into the busiest inn there. As he made for the exit, another ‘businessman’ stereotype bumped into him. He apologised frantically, looking as if in a hurry to catch up with the rest of his colleagues.

“Gomenasai. I’m in a hurry.” It didn’t take long for Joker to wonder if all working men looked the same. This man standing in front of him had the exact outfit and accessories on, just that his were 2 shades of blue lighter.

“This is my name card, yoroshiku onegaishimasu. Do contact me if there’re any damages. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience caused.” With that, he hurried away. Joker walked on, stealing glances at the name card. Yamada Kentarou, Deputy supervisor of a small company. Just his luck. Could he have met anyone else with a more common name than that? “Arigatou, Kami-sama.” He muttered under his breath.


“Good evening, Sir. May I help you?” The cheery girl at the counter chirped.
“Yes, I’d like a single room for one night, please.” He strained his voice to alter it.
“May I have your name and contact number, please?”
“Yamada. Yamada Kentarou. This is my name card.” He paused slightly and presented the card over the counter. “But no visitors, please. I need some time to myself before going home to 3 noisy kids...” The receptionist looked at him quizzically, and he slowly continued in hushed tones.
“The mother-in-law is visiting. If you get what I mean.” He gave a little shrug and a sigh, smiling sheepishly as the receptionist let out a little chuckle and nodded.
 “Here is your access card to room 17, it is just around the corner, on the second floor. Good night and enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.”

Picking up the electronic card, Joker dropped it into his coat pocket as he left for his room. Given his profession, he didn’t really need the card, but for appearance sakes, it was safer to use it.

Inside the room, Joker kicked off his shoes and slumped onto the easy chair. His eyes caught the small bauble of a security camera in a corner, directly above the television set. And thank goodness it was the only one there. An old model like that would be useless in the dark. All he needed to do was to switch off the lights and voila!~ as good as no surveillance. Then, remembering something, he dialled the counter.

 “This is room service, how may I help you, Yamada-san?”
 “I’d like to make an exception regarding the ‘no-visitors’ thing I mentioned earlier. My nephew plans drop by sometime in the afternoon, but I may not be in, so please direct him here. Goes by the name of Joel David Kerner. And he’s just been back from the states, so he’s the foreign looking guy, early twenties. Right, that will be all.”
“Yes, sir. We shall convey your wishes to the counter to avoid any complications tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”

Alibi settled. He switched off the room lights. Now was the time for metamorphosis. He retreated to the bathroom, where it was safe. Then off came the whole suit, tie and glasses. Fake belly pouch was unstrapped and dropped in the briefcase. The grease-laden wig was next, together with the clammy, wrinkley, double-chinned rubber mask. Joker felt nothing less than major relief. The summer temperatures could hit as high as 30.6 ºC. Stepping into the shower, he allowed himself a nice cool shower, while keeping an eye on his PDA, which doubled as a roaming and tracking device. His corridor was silent for the night, and so he lingered on a little longer in the bath.

Putting on his usual attire of berms and a sleeveless top, he went back into his room totally refreshed. He picked up his coat and flipped it inside out. Pulling what looked like a stray piece of thread immediately inflated the coat. Convertible life vest and coat. Very useful. He chucked it under the covers to make it look like a sleeping form and turned up the air-conditioning. Then, sliding the door of the cupboard open, Joker crept in and made himself comfortable amongst the rolls of extra blankets and futon. Before long, he was dreaming of fluffy popcorn sheep grazing in a field of stalks of golden corn.


The next day, near noon, he left room number 17 by the balcony. He spent the entire morning spraying his hair a dull, sun-bleached brown, being careful not to let the bright red show through. A mole was also added, a la Atobe-sama style. Then, lowering himself off the balcony by means of a thin retractable steel rope, he surveyed the area. It was beginning to get too warm to be outdoors. The back alley where he landed was clean and deserted. Checking his PDA once again, Joker planned his route.

1st junction left, 34 steps, Museum on left, go straight, turn into main road, 7 shop units away, yellow and red interior, tampered glass shop front. Uchida’s. Simple enough.

It didn’t take Joker very long to reach his target destination. It was shop-house styled, and sold all sorts of corn, dealt with in different ways. Sautéed, glazed, stir-fried, iced desserts, salads, etc. Everything but on the cob, roasted.

“Sumimasen, but isn’t there any roasted corn on the cob?”
“Ah, usually yes, but not during summer. It’s too hot to be roasting them in the shop, so we’ve shifted it to a pushcart stand. It goes around the district. Should be along the main roads, you could take a chance and see if you can catch it.”

Joker bowed politely and stood at the steps of the door. No wonder there wasn’t any address in Hama-sama’s instructions. Hmm. It would take too much time for him to run from street to street, so he decided that he should track him instead.

“Sorry for interrupting again, but actually I’m in a hurry, my train leaves soon, but I’d really love to pack your corn on the way back. Is Takeshi-san still the one roasting the corn?”
“Oh, so you know our Takeshi...hahaha...you should have said so earlier. And leaving so soon? You just wait and we’ll give him a call on his mobile and get him back in a jiffy.”
“That wouldn’t be nice, I’ll be imposing on you. Still have a business to run, you know. Why don’t you give me his number and I’ll call him instead?”
“Why, sure. Use the shop’s phone. We have speed dialling.”

Bingo. Just ring his mobile, and the PDA would pick up the transmission.
He dialled the number, but quickly terminated the call without them noticing. Then making sure his actions didn’t raise any suspicion, he sneaked out of the shop unnoticed, blending in with the growing crowd that filed in for lunch. Checking his PDA again, the little blue spot gave away the stand’s location. Joker wasted no time and briskly headed for it.


 The smell of the roasted corn reached him before he actually saw it. He let himself walk along the street as naturally as he could, being careful not to let his excitement get the better of him. Turning the corner, he found himself in a lonely little corner. There, roasting the corn while wiping beads of perspiration off his forehead stood Uchida Takeshi.

“I’d like one please.” Joker placed his order and watched as the man picked a juicy, buttery cob off the grill and placed it in a small brown paper bag with extra paper napkins to handle the hot corn. He didn’t even take a second look at Joker when he accepted his payment, but went on give his corn more dashes of butter and a few twists to roast it evenly. Joker left the stall, and munched along. A drop of scalding butter seeped through the package and burnt his fingers, causing him to almost drop it. Then, another of his crazy brainwaves struck him, and he did a little ‘too-hot-to-catch’ juggling act before dropping it onto the ground deliberately. It hit the floor with a little thud, and rolled back in the direction of the pushcart.

For a while, Joker stood staring at the cob, waiting for something to happen. Then, Uchida Takeshi spoke. He was fuming slightly, and a little irritated.

“You...why did you think I gave you so many paper napkins for? Haven’t you got any sense to use them?”
“Nope, I’ve got some cents, but I thought I’d use up my notes first. Then I’ll use my credit card, before I use my cents. They’re a trifle heavy to carry around too much, and they jingle. Bells. Jingle Bells, jingle all the way.”

There was a long period of silence and the next thing Joker saw was a sweaty bundle of a towel flying past his head. He ducked this easily, and grinned, pushing a lock of his fringe out of the way. It was sometime before the accomplice relaxed enough to continue with business.

“Here. I’ll give you another one. Eat it after you get back.” A similar brown paper bag was produced, but this time, he dropped the corn in and folded the top of the bag before handing it over. “And this time, don’t drop it. I couldn’t believe Hama-sama when she told me about you. Who would have thought lamers like you even existed?”

“Don’t worry. You’re pretty corny yourself. Corn-y, yes.” Joker blurted out and ducked as he grabbed the paper bag. This time, it was an empty butter bowl. Straightening up and dusting himself off, he stood up to face a growing smile.

“Good Luck. Don’t screw it, or you’ll have something to screw about when you get back.”
“Yeah. It’ll be back to unscrewing wine bottles at that restaurant again.”

With that, they parted their ways. Mission part A, completed.


Joker headed for a public restroom. From his pockets, he fished a small can of his beloved hair wax and went on to style his hair. Off came the mole, and on went a cap, a wristband and a pair of shades. The next stop was back to the hotel. It was time for the good nephew to pay his uncle ‘Yamada’ a visit.

The same cheery girl was back in for the late afternoon shift. Joker took an extra effort to look around, seemingly lost before he approached the counter. He was greeted in the same way as last night.
“The name’s Kerner. I’m here to visit Mr Yamada Kentarou.”
“Good evening, sir. Yamada-san has made arrangements for you to see him directly.”
She went on to repeat the same words Joker heard yesterday. Then he took the card, again redundant, and went back to his room.


 The first thing he made to do was to bring the brown bag into the bathroom. He plonked himself on the toilet seat cover and stared at the paper bag for a while. Upon opening it, the fresh aroma of the corn wafted out. It was only warm to the touch now, and Joker proceeded to examine the contents of the bag while munching on the complimentary corn.

Right at the base of the packet, sealed in a zip lock casing, was a small stack of documents and a little white, flat box the size of a palm. The documents included a new alias of Kobayashi Akira, recently deceased and still unreported, the unclaimed cadaver lying in an unmarked body bag. His occupation was a deliveryman for a warehouse specialising in the mass distribution of iced confectionery. There was a receipt for picking up a set of uniform from the cleaners and a timetable of the recess periods and patrol duties of the staff of Hokkaido’s HQ. And a list of available company trucks and the delivery routes they frequent.

And the box was the main thing. Joker opened it gingerly and found a splendid masterpiece of a bomb, courtesy of the Mafia. Signed, sealed and delivered by Blue...or the Weapons department, in this case. A maximum prestart time of 5 hours upon activation, but he was sure he’d never need that much time. Or maybe it’ll come in handy. It had the ability to blow up the entire HQ. The surrounding areas were sparsely populated. 57.4% of Sapporo was forest, and so no further damage would be done.

He sat on the toilet seat cover for a long time and dangled his feet, wiggling his toes while the shower ran. It was a simple enough job. But then, according to Sod and Murphy, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. He wasn’t going to fail this and die now. He still had a lot more to learn. Joker was his name, but definitely not his real one. He’d bet every single hair on his head that there’s something else to it. Maybe Hana-sama could give him a clue to it. Success was his only option. Tomorrow, he’d collect and prepare all his necessary equipment. And he’ll strike the day after.


 Joker stayed hidden in the bath until it was after dark (to foil the camera), taking his own sweet time to wash the dye from his hair. Red was still his best color. He then reinstated the bed to its initial neatness and deflated the coat, hanging it back in the cupboard. Then, he opened the door and closed it again. This would register as someone either entering or leaving the apartment. ‘Yamada-san’ wouldn’t be back till tomorrow morning. Tying up his hair in a bandanna, he left the room a good twenty minutes later with the documents safe in his pocket.

The doorman greeted him at the entrance, and Joker decided to use him a bit. “Did my uncle go drinking without me again? You know, the plump, slightly balding man (referring to two thirds of the entire population).”
At this, the doorman smiled politely and nodded, indicating that he noticed a man fitting that description leaving approximately half an hour ago. “He must have left while I was bathing... See you.” He ended the small talk abruptly and left the hotel, feigning an annoyed look.


Walking along, Joker thought that he should do some land survey before launching into delivery proper. The cooler night would make a more comfortable cover. First he headed for the warehouse, where the wares were housed. He took liberties to wander around and familiarise himself with the placing of the goods. According to the timetable, the Keisatsu HQ has an in-house canteen, and the stall owners restock food supplies everyday. The ice cream stall and drink stalls get their stocks at the same time -- 1100 sharp. One of the items delivered was just as he wanted it. Large rectangular blocks of ice to the ice cream stall, for the desserts.

The idea of transporting it in a block of ice came to him on the train ride. But that was when he thought that they might use a thermal activated bomb. Given the hot summer season, a bomb in a frozen block of ice could buy him many hours while he made his escape, before it blew. Nonetheless, this custom set bomb gave him a lot more freedom to experiment. He could take the trouble to encase it in a block and time it in utmost precision to the melting ice. This could confuse the police into investigating on similar cases of thermally activated bombs.

Next stop brought him to the carpark, and there he found the trucks parked in their allocated spots. The one he was assigned to was right in the back, nearest the exit. There should be no problem. Avoiding the main security at the gate, Joker chose to scale the far end of the wall. With his handy dandy yo-yo, he released the steel string onto the large tree outside the wall and propelled himself out in two steps. Destination next:

Hokkaido Keisatsu Sodan Centre.
Kita 2, Nishi 7, Chuo-ku, Sapporo Phone: #9110


Even by night, the place was guarded. Two in the guardhouse in front, where they housed guards. In neat print, the timetable revealed five more on rounds and three manning the phone lines until morning. Searchlights flitted around and threatened to expose him, but Joker was on alert. Sitting as still as he could, he observed the frequency of the beams and the routine of the patrols. It was now 0200 the next day, Sunday. Still counting silently in the corner, he braced himself for the dash into the building. He took a deep breath.

On three...

And he lodged his foot into an old jointing in the wall and hoist himself over. Landing on the soft soles of his shoes, he counted two before sprinting towards a stairway. The spotlight barely missed him. Wasting no time, he stuck close to the walls to avoid the cameras and continued his way down to the canteen. Had to reach the basement in four seconds. There was the door leading to the control room where the shared freezer was. Wristband converts into glove, PDA glow would suffice as a light source. Protection was weak here. The canteen was obviously of little value. Slide-card accessed system. Joker’s fingers got to work. The slide could be offset by temporarily resetting it with a general password. Eight seconds allowed.

Click. The door opened. Break in successful, total of sixteen seconds taken. The patrol wouldn’t be down in another 5 minutes. One could call it more of a storeroom than a control room. The place was worn and old, extremely easy to sabotage. He checked the running temperature of the freezer compartment. –5.7 ºC. Manipulating the temperature regulator to increase by 1.5 ºC every 3 hours. The temperature reflected remains unchanged. Activating the lag-timer to start thaw at 0200, Monday. By 1400 on Monday afternoon, the ice would have started to melt. By 1500 that same day, there wouldn’t be anymore headquarters. Hurrying, he rattled the rusty, half-loosened screws on the radiator pipes until they came off, punctured. It’ll probably increase temperatures, but not noticeably different. They’ll probably attribute the increasing temperatures to these broken pipes. Taking care that nothing else was disturbed, Joker left the room and closed the door behind him.

The lock re-auto activated and since it was reset, it wouldn’t register the disruption on the system. One minute and sixteen seconds had elapsed since his break in. The next patrol would come down by these same stairs, so he would have to leave fast. Taking five steps at a time, he arrived back at the ground level in four seconds flat and waited for the search beams to pass. As soon as it did, Joker half sprinted and launched his steel-string contraption over the wall, scaling along the surface of the bricks as the string retracted. Without stopping, he disappeared into the fringes of shrubs, away from the empty streets. Land survey, or rather sabotaging, completed. He decided against returning to the hotel and raising suspicion. Instead, he made straight for the mortuary.


 The dead had to be officially certified by a medical professional. But since work wouldn’t resume until Monday, Joker was sure what he was looking for would still be there, untouched at the mortuary. Unzipping a few bags, he finally found the body of the real Kobayashi Akira. Grabbing a spare body bag, he placed himself beside the deceased and settled in for the night.

“Oyasumi, Akira-kun.”


The little beeps from his mobile woke Joker up. It was already 0448, Sunday morning. It was time to start preparations. He sat up and waved the body bag around to cool it off before replacing it, making a mental checklist.

Documents, check.
Bomb, check.
Sabotage, check.
Land survey, check.

To Do:
More sleep

Then off he went, back to the hotel before it got too bright. It took him some time before he arrived at the back alley. Again, his weapon made good use of itself and he was back in room 17 by the balcony. Packing what he needed in fifteen minutes, he crept back out the same way. ‘Joker, the makeup artist’ sounded just as good as ‘Joker, the assassin’. Back to the mortuary.


 “Good Morning...” The young man grunted as he half-hauled and half-dragged a fat, middle-aged man through the doors of the hotel. They both reeked of alcohol. “Would you help me open my room door, he’s drunk.” Joker wheezed a little from the weight of his ‘uncle’ and handed the access card to a bellboy. The bellboy immediately obliged, and soon, Joker was left alone in the room with ‘Yamada’. Or rather, his proxy. Or rather, Kobayashi Akira. This was by far the most exciting way he’d ever transported a corpse. In broad daylight, into the busiest hotel in the district, under everybody’s noses. The freshly dead man was still cold from the mortuary. It would take one more day before he started decomposing. But the stench of the alcohol should overpower that. Besides, this body was going down with the building. Quite a spectacular crematory ritual, so to speak.

He tucked the body in bed and went into the bathroom again. It was fast becoming his second home. Flipping through his documents, he took a few minutes to read up on Kobayashi’s background. Had no living relations, single, and owned an apartment two blocks away from the warehouse. His work attitude was serious, but he was a loner through and through. Then disposing his body would be a small problem. But transporting the body out to the warehouse would need more work. Joker racked his brains. He couldn’t do anything at the moment. Locking the bathroom door behind him, he went back to the main room and slept on the spare futon. The plan would have to wait. Sometimes, we just had to slow down to speed up.


 Joker was up and about by noon. He had room service send him the laundry and the uniform came together with the rest of his clothing. They were all neatly packed, and only a receipt was needed to retrieve the clothing. So nobody would know who wore the clothing, who needed the clothing or even what the clothing were. Safe. And besides, he got a good examination of the deliverymen’s attire. They wore a smart grey jacket and dark blue pants. A cap and large trolley completed the look. Half an hour later, another deliveryman carted a load of dirty laundry out to the Laundromat just a block away. He carted it into one of the numerous back alleys. Anyone looking would have thought him heading for the back entrance of the Laundromat. But because no one was looking, no one saw him push it further two blocks away, into the storage shed of the ice confectionery warehouse.

 “Phew.” Joker smiled and immediately went for the packaging boxes. Assembling three large boxes, he stacked them one atop the other. Then, hollowing out the bases of the top two, he was left with a long, rectangular ‘coffin’. “In you go, Akira-kun, Good night, sleep tight, don’t get frost bites.” With that, he left it in a corner of the shed. No one would be here until Monday morning. And besides, even if anyone did come in, they would have to get through the person on morning duty to get the key. And that person was Kobayashi. Donning his cap, Joker left as silently as he came, wheeling the dirty laundry back to the Laundromat this time round. He pushed the cart into the back room and took an empty cart. Following that, he headed back for the hotel, presumably for another round of laundry. But as he got back into the hotel, he sneaked into the workers’ pantry and hung the borrowed uniform back on the rack with the rest.

Body transportation, done. That was yet another tick off his list. The only item left was ‘More sleep’. So like all professional assassins, he followed his checklist to the very last detail and crept back to room 17.

“This time,” he thought, “I’m sleeping on the bed. The inflatable sleeps on the floor.”


 By night, Joel Kerner ended his company and visit. He returned the spare card and left. Yamada Kentarou was watching television in the dark of his room, savouring the wine he ordered off room service. Joker re-entered room 17 by the balcony (again) and went unnoticed in dark, into the cupboard. He needed all the rest he could get before the big day tomorrow. The battery pack he attached to the movable arm would do its work till morning, bringing sips of wine to the inflated dummy. He slept on, filled to the brim with confidence.


 The next morning, Joker put the dummy to bed and jumped off the balcony in his uniform. He had his makeup to resemble Kobayashi as much as possible. The messy, short brown wig was fashioned out of the greasy black wig he had worn to Sapporo. It was his idea of recycling. Strapped to the inside of his jacket was the precious god of destruction. Small in size, but suffer not his wrath. He took to the roofs and leapt off at a tremendous speed. He arrived at the warehouse slightly early. Getting to work, he checked in and collected his truck keys. No one noticed the slight difference. In fact, no one bothered. He really was a lonely person. It was a literal sense in no one noticing even if a person was dead. But in his case, it was good.

Then driving a loading cart, he unlocked the storage shed, leaving the keys there for the next person’s convenience. He loaded Kobayashi’s box onto the cart, with more empty boxes. The large freezers held the blocks of ice he needed to send. Retracing the route to the freezer, he made no mistake and stopped outside. Bringing in three boxes at a time, he worked quickly. The blocks were about a keyboard in length and slightly shorter in width and height. Each box held one block. Then, to account for the three boxes he used for Kobayashi’s body, he reported the three extra ‘faulty’ boxes as being damaged by roaches. The clipboard checked out the exact amount of stock and irregularities. Joker slot it back into the box at the front of the freezer and hopped back into the cart. It was ready for the truck.

The trucks were all special mini freezers. The boxes were loaded into the truck that he was supposed to drive later on. While in the privacy of the back of his truck, he took a pinch of salt from his pocket and sprinkled it onto a block of ice. He then lit a small candle and held it to the melting spot in the middle of the block. The hole began to get bigger and bigger until it was just right for the bomb to fit in snugly. Joker set it to the maximum countdown of five solid hours. Then he left it to continue packing the rest of the goods. It froze over quite quickly, and was hastily repackaged. The extra consignment for that day was an order for cappuccino and rum ice cream, to the stall at the HQ. He went off on another round to get that. After making sure that everything was in order, Joker went about washing the truck’s exterior. He wasn’t alone on this task. A few others were also doing the same, to while away the time. Some had already left for further areas. Joker checked his watch. It was 1030, Monday morning. He hopped into his truck, handed over his order form at the gates and drove off.


 He reached the gates of the HQ right on time. Having presented his pass, he was quickly given access to the back of the canteen, where he would unload the blocks. Driving in, the lady boss of the stalls was already there to sign off the goods. He greeted her politely and she handed him the keys to the same control room he sneaked into the yesterday. Carrying Kobayashi’s box in first, he placed it right at the very back, in the most inaccessible corner of the freezer room. Then the one with the bomb was put on top of it. The rest were randomly carried in.

Just as he was about to leave, the helper for the ice cream stall came in.

“Kobayashi-san, would you please help me get a box for the ice from behind, please? The lady bossy mother says to use up last week’s first.” Without waiting for an answer, he began to shift the boxes away, heading straight for the stack with the bomb and Kobayashi’s body.

Shit. This kid was a goner.

Locking the compartment door, Joker dropped his yo-yo into a furious spin. The spinning blades gave off a soft whirr, which sounded like the angry hum of killer bees. He let it fly. The steel string went four times around the boy’s neck. Joker tightened his grip on the string and gave it a swift jerk. The string went through. The boy didn’t even have time to scream. He just stood still, breath ceased. Joker took a large trash bag from the control room outside and carefully tied it around the base of the neck. Then he tilted the body upside down and he could feel the head coming off clean from the body, dropping into the trash bag. The blood started to splurt forcefully for a second, then rapidly drained out. Propping the body alongside Kobayashi in the box, Joker was pleased. No mess to clean up. The body was upside down though, to accommodate both in that tiny space and the boy was small. He replaced the boxes and made sure nothing was amiss. Then he left with an ice block box.


“Lady boss, the kid has got the runs, needed the toilet. He asked me to pass you this?”
“Thank you, I’m so sorry for the trouble. That naughty boy, skiving whenever he has the chance. He was still up and running a while ago. The runs? I’d say he has run off. Not the first time, you know. I can’t be bothered anymore.”
“It’s the summer holidays after all. Boys will be boys. I was like that once too. My mum was mighty mad."
 “He’ll have more than mad when he gets home tonight.”

The banter went on for a while and Joker decided to stay on for a while. It didn’t matter if he stayed. If anything cropped up, he could always use the remote to blow it up immediately. All these people would be dead by today. The stall owners were innocent, so to speak. But they’d have to go with the Keisatsu. He offered to clean the ice cream tubs and refill the new ones he brought in from the warehouse. Then he went back to the truck and purposely let air out of one of the tyres. He got permission from the police to use their car park to fix the bad tyre, and he wired the warehouse to report what had happened. They allowed him to stay out since there were no other urgent deliveries later that day. Joker went on to feign fixing.

Now, everything was settled. The bomb was in and ticking away.


At 1458, the tyre was fixed. Joker asked for the washroom to clean up. He was directed to one. Then he escaped through the window in the toilet cubicle, running as fast as he could away from the building, making sure no one saw him.


 A huge explosion erupted throughout the entire building. This caused the whole HQ to be levelled in mere seconds. The next one raged fiercer than the last, engulfing everything in blazing flames. Not one was spared. Gas and flammable materials set off a chain reaction in various parts of the building, causing smaller, but still devastating, explosions. Even the surrounding twenty-metre radius around the HQ was no more.

Not one was spared. Not one body was left whole. Not one was left recognisable.


 Joker went back to the hotel. He put on his disguise, packed and left. Upon returning the access card, he charged everything under the company’s employee benefits. Yamada’s employee benefits. The last thing the workers at the hotel saw was a beer-bellied man sauntering out of their front doors.


 On the train back that evening, he picked up a copy of the Daily Shimbun.

Headline News : Explosion razes Hokkaido Keisatsu Headquarters to the ground.

The explosion occurred at 3.00 p.m. yesterday. 2 distinct blasts were heard, and it is confirmed that there may be 2 separate bombs in the building to have resulted in such an extensive damage. It was most unfortunate, when all patrols reported back for a mandatory half-day debriefing at 2.45 p.m. and were killed in the blasts. There are no survivors. Of the dead, the majority were policemen holding posts and working there. 10 were indirectly involved. These include 6 canteen stall owners, 3 janitors and a deliveryman. The deliveryman, as reported by his company, had already finished his rounds earlier in the morning but was fixing a punctured tyre when the explosion occurred.

The bodies cannot yet be distinguished, as the consecutive blast has reduced all of them to smithereens. The same can be said of the building. Investigations are continuing and the police urge citizens to stay away from the bombsite as it could be dangerous. The lack of eyewitnesses this time is also a cause for alarm. The authorities have only managed to get 4 witnesses who saw the scene soon after it blew. The reliability of their statements has yet to be justified. *

Joker smiled, again.
Mischief managed.

[User Picture]From: lady_hana_sama
2005-08-29 04:15 am (UTC)
Ahh... There's something so wonderful about blown up keisatsu in the morning.

Heh, this mission went much cooler than I expected. I like! ^_^
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[User Picture]From: lame_joker
2005-09-01 05:56 am (UTC)
XD is happie too. XD
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