Matsuda Jinpei: "?"
How many?
Ichijō Mirai pronounced it as a simple number, eight digits in one breath, only adding a yen at the end, and it took some reaction time to convert the spoken eight-digit number into actual money.
Not much, just a few seconds, and Matsuda Jinpei responded, instantly and skillfully assuming the attitude of a victim, quizzical, "What?"
He scanned Ichijō Mirai's expression up and down, "My, and the others' bonuses, total?"
Ichijō Mirai: "Yours alone."
"Oh," Matsuda Jinpei thought for a moment, even more skeptical, "How much for the others?"
"You're not trying to bribe me and you to bully your classmates and sow discord between us 'future victims', are you?!"
"No way!"
"Do you understand what we have in common with you! It's the kind of thing we can talk about all night long, with an overwhelming desire to confide in each other!"
What the hell is a 'future victim'?
Is it something to be proud of to talk about victimization all night? Why don't you talk about something late at night?
Ichijō Mirai: "..."
Tch.
"It's sharing the spoils."
"Other people like you," He commented as gently as he could, "don't have to spend a lot of money to stir up trouble, do they?"
Not really.
"I can sow discord right now, on the spot, with the same effect as I can sow discord with money."
Translation: You're a fool who can be easily provoked.
Matsuda Jinpei: "..."
During the thirty seconds of silence, he pondered whether to shoot Ichijō Mirai immediately, or to shoot Ichijō Mirai immediately, or to shoot Ichijō Mirai immediately.
Ichijō Mirai's favorite paint gun.
He slowly drew his gun, then realized something was wrong. "Wait, equal shares?"
The total... ahem, the total amount of the prize money, was 100 million yen, Matsuda Jinpei got 20 million minus one yen, and if everyone else except Ichijō Mirai got that amount of the spoils, then...
How much did Ichijō Mirai get?
...Five, five yen?!
Matsuda Jinpei: "?"
"?!"
There's a conspiracy!
Once again, he was fastidiously suspicious, "You,"
The police car wasn't big enough to hold more than half a dozen people, so Ichijō Mirai, not wanting to be squeezed into a sandwich, sat by the door, with Matsuda Jinpei sitting next to him, within arm's reach.
Date Wataru was sitting behind Matsuda Jinpei, unpacking his gear, when he heard him say, "Is that so?"
Furuya Rei, on the other side of Matsuda Jinpei, averted his eyes from the window and had to withdraw from listening to the conversation, somewhat alarmed, "I'm going to..."
Kenji Hagiwara struggled for a few moments, darting out of his helmet and blurting out the following, "Blackmail?!"
Morofushi Hiromitsu was sitting in the passenger seat, he didn't intend to change his equipment for the time being, and swept Ichijō Mirai's unchanged equipment in the rearview mirror, and said their ominous aura, "Blackmail the police side alone, and get a special honorarium?"
After all, the blue camp had lost so badly that it seemed like a bit too much of a chicken, too much of a fool, and like a very easy target to pinch.
After saying that, Morofushi Hiromitsu looked at the driver again, and said in a somewhat apologetic tone, "I'm sorry, we weren't talking about anything alarming, we were exchanging potlucks,"
"Ahem, how about a potluck today or tomorrow?"
It was as if he was petting a dog that was shivering a little and handing out a bone, which was called: 'You're not doing anything, go play'.
At that, the first reaction was a bewildered surprise, the second reaction was an instinctive disbelief, the second reaction was an afterthought to realize that the police cadets in the car were really powerful, so the driver who was horrified: "..."
Morofushi Hiromitsu added: "You're a little disgusted?"
Because of the presence of outsiders, it's a bit vague, but it's really a question to Ichijō Mirai: Today, the blue camp did certain behaviors that you found objectionable, and you hated them so much that you didn't intend to let them off lightly, and wanted to teach them a lesson?
Ichijō Mirai: "."
He glances at the passenger seat a few more times, reaching up to undo his helmet with some inexplicable relief, "Before the playful blonde classmates brought us down, you were brought down by me."
He's rubbing the dog's head!
And at Furuya Rei's 'Hey! "What kind of image do you guys have of me? Am I a bad guy who just blackmails people?"
He never blackmails people!
He just takes out the asset owners and picks up the dropped assets.
"Morofushi-san, don't say a word," Ichijō Mirai lost the right to judge Morofushi Hiromitsu, who knew his true identity, "I'm not going to blackmail them, it's too much of a hassle, and it'd be better to become a police officer and take bribes than to go to the trouble of blackmailing them."
"They're more used to bribes. If the bottom line is 100 million yen when faced with blackmail, the bottom line is more than a billion yen when faced with a bribe."
This was not a good thing to say to the police, and the rest of the bus frowned.
Before being contradicted by his kind classmates, Ichijō Mirai added, "I don't intend to take too much money, just give me one yen each."
"I," He organized his words without changing his face, "was forced to owe money to a friend."
"Not happy about it,"
"not going to pay him back."
"I'll just pay him back a couple hundred yen a month for the game card fees."
Matsuda Jinpei: "Huh?"
"Owe money?" He's a bit skeptical, "It's not like."
It can't be like at the police academy, where on the first day of enrollment, you're like, "Oh, I lost my meal card. Oh, I don't know you, but you know my classmates, so can you lend me a meal".
From what Matsuda Jinpei knew about Ichijō Mirai, it was obvious that this guy could earn regular money through various regular channels, and could even replace his meal card, so this kind of whoring around was obviously a kind of fun.
Just as he was about to blurt it out, and meaningfully denounce Ichijō Mirai, Morofushi Hiromitsu spoke up, "You heard me, we really weren't discussing any dangerous plans, were we?"
"We've been at the police academy lately, so we're a little unfamiliar with Tokyo, so could you please give us a ride to one of the more famous gourmet restaurants? Thank you very much."
After casually tossing a second bone to get the surface conversation going, he turned his head back to the backseat, "But if you don't want to 'owe' money, there's no one else who can force you, right?"
'I have a friend' again, and Morofushi Hiromitsu knew exactly who he was referring to.
Even more so, Morofushi Hiromitsu knew what 'owed money' meant, not just money, but feelings as well.
Ichijō Mirai thought for a moment, "Indeed."
No one else could force Ichijō Mirai, but he would be forced by himself.
He wasn't too concerned about that, and judged that the topic of sharing the spoils had passed before saying, "By the way, I was thinking about something,"
"It's like this, I have a friend,"
Belmode.
It is known that Belmode killed Judie's parents.
Also known: Judie was about the same age as Ichijō Mirai.
It is also known that Judie was very young when her parents died.
So: how old is Belmode?
The two times we met, Belmode was a brunette neon star with make-up and a youthful look, the other time he was blonde with slight wrinkles.
But with makeup, the wrinkles are makeup.
"There's something kind about my friend here," Ichijō Mirai added after a pause, "I personally feel,"
"...Never mind."
He asked the driver, "Are you turning the corner to go to the gourmet restaurant, how much longer to get there."
There are only two possibilities about Belmode.
One: Belmode's real age is much older than Judie's, but she takes good care of herself, and her normal state without make-up is about 30 years old with no wrinkles. She purposely distinguishes between her two appearances, so she puts on youthful make-up the first time, and 30s and 40s make-up the second time to make herself look old.
Two: Belmode's real age is much older than Judie's, but her real appearance is very young.
The first one, purely camouflage tendency, the second one...
Considering Belmode's formal appearances, it's hard for Ichijō Mirai not to think of drugs.
If Belmode, like him, had taken special drugs, then considering the information she revealed that "people who have taken drugs may have special reactions to the same kind of drugs", the possibility that she was the unlucky victim suddenly increased.
Then we can't delve too deeply into it. If we delve too deeply into it, we won't be asking indirect questions like 'How many Americas did the leader live?', but will fall into the trap of 'Ichijō Mirai' and be tempted by the active pursuit.
Ichijō Mirai simply gave up the inquiry and casually asked, "If we go to the gathering, do the instructors know about it?"
His abandonment was so hard that his classmates stared at him in unison, but no one asked.
It was written on their faces: curiosity.
Also written on their faces: restraint, concern.
Curiosity about a friend's secret, but because they were friends, they were restraining their curiosity, and if Ichijō Mirai didn't want to talk about it, they wouldn't ask.
This is typical of normal people, and as a player anyway, Ichijō Mirai doesn't have the slightest sense of social distance, propriety, or politeness when it's necessary.
"They should be willing," Morofushi Hiromitsu said, "If we go back now, the instructors will need to give a summary critique of our performance."
But it wasn't a very good critique, not just praise, which would be suspicious of the yakuza police, but also proper criticism, which would still be yakuza police.
"I'll send a message to Instructor Onidzuka to inquire," he pressed his cell phone to send a message, while scanning the street outside, talking to the driver, "please turn left from the front, and then go straight for two blocks, there is a ramen restaurant, where to drop us off just fine."
"That's a good ramen place. Let's get together today, then we'll have a serious dinner afterward?"
"But that ramen shop..."
There's something special about that ramen shop.
It's not like a ramen shop, it's like a milk store. There's a drinks cabinet with all sorts of boxed milk.
The bowl of ramen was huge, almost like a small wine jar, with white noodles and red broth, but without the usual Japanese ramen ingredients, there was only some shredded radish, which was also white with a faint green color, and the almost blood-red broth, which made a bad impression on the face.
After five or six bowls of ramen have been served, the ramen shop develops a strong, spicy appetizing smell.
Ichijō Mirai is not a big fan of spicy food.
Sitting on the far side of the table, he was the first to be served, sniffing the air tentatively, then sniffing it again before cautiously picking up his chopsticks and tasting a piece of shredded daikon radish.
It wasn't too spicy.
"Just to be clear," he said, picking up a piece of ramen and seeing the chopsticks instantly tinted with an oily red color, "I'm not a fan of spicy food."
The ramen faltered a bit, and Ichijō Mirai paused to take a small, tentative bite.
Then: "Huh."
It's not spicy.
It's a little salty, but not spicy, not a hint of spiciness.
Ichijō Mirai let her guard down and ate it normally, saying in passing to the other students, who were also first-timers and a bit cautious, "It's not spicy, it's salty, it's okay to eat."
"Is the milk to alleviate the saltiness? I thought the ramen was too spicy, so I had to have milk."
He always ate quickly, with the beauty of a player who could even click [Use] without changing his face in order to lower his hunger level, and only spoke in every eating gap, looking quite relaxed and calm, even if his mouth was quickly stained with a layer of red oil, as if he was eating tomato ramen.
Morofushi Hiromitsu, who was sitting on his flank, sniffed and took a chopstick of ramen as well, picking it into his mouth without any change of color, and said to his somewhat wary classmates, "Well, it's not too spicy."
"Though the future seems to be credible when it comes to non-serious matters."
He paused appropriately.
"It seems negatively infinite," Matsuda Jinpei, who was sitting across from him, blurted out, picking up a chopstick of ramen with some skepticism and sniffing it, "Is it really not spicy? But it smells spicy, and the red oil looks horrible," he said.
"And that guy can't be trusted, you guys can't be trusted either, don't think people don't see that you guys have intimate private chat channels from time to time."
He shoved the ramen into his mouth, chewed, and looked down in deep thought.
When he looked up again, his eyes lit up, "It's really not spicy, huh?"
Probably because of his surprise, Matsuda Jinpei's speech was a bit fast, "It's salty like normal ramen, and when you taste it, it's a bit sweet?"
"It's the sweetness of tomatoes."
"What an odd taste, but it's delicious, and it's not red oil, it's tomato juice, so where's the pungent odor coming from? Hey, Furuya who's having fun, try it!"
"...Shut up," Furuya Rei said with a red tic in the corner of her forehead, "I haven't settled my score with you yet."
"We agreed not to mention the loving Matsuda-san who slipped away from the foxhound for three days!" He gritted his teeth as he casually picked up ramen and stuffed it into his mouth, "Isn't that right?"
His voice stopped abruptly.
Furuya Rei's brow furrowed as he put down his chopsticks and went to look at Matsuda Jinpei and Morofushi Hiromitsu, his eyes gradually lit up with light, "Good, what an odd flavor, there's a hint of sweetness in the salty flavor, it's not noticeable, you have to taste it carefully to taste it, like a surprise."
He decisively nudged Date Wataru next to him with his elbow, "Taste it! It's delicious!"
Date Wataru is not very good at eating spicy food, and was very hesitant at the beginning. After his classmates exclaimed that it was not spicy, he felt relieved and easily picked up a large chopstick of ramen and stuffed it into his mouth. "Salty and sweet ramen seems a bit strange, I,"
After chewing a few times, he paused, his matured looks crumpled together, looking a bit fierce, and then quickly stretched out, quickly swallowing and eating this mouthful of ramen while putting down his chopsticks and raising his thumbs up, "
His eyes shone brightly as he looked over to his classmates who had already eaten the ramen, first at the classmates who had kindly favored him with a taste of the delicacy one after another, and then at Ichijō Mirai, who had buried his head in his mouth and quickly ate most of the bowl of ramen, and had a few moments of hyperbole as if he had been surprised by the food to the point that he was moved to tears, "It's very tasty!"
"I thought the salty and sweet ramen was a bit strange before, but I didn't realize the flavors blended so well!"
"Kenji, try it!"
Kenji Hagiwara, who had pulled his hair while removing his helmet and was tying it with a leather band he borrowed from the store owner so he wouldn't accidentally eat his hair while eating the ramen, took a big bite of the ramen without any precaution, "You guys are so over the top, it's like something out of a food show..."
He stopped abruptly, his expression going blank as his lips quickly swelled up with some red oil, "Hiss..."
Spicy.
Very spicy.
It spread quickly from the tip of his tongue, exploding like a bomb in his mouth, the chili pepper going down his throat, provoking a cool coughing sensation, and then the heat that burned in his stomach before he even touched the ramen went straight to the roof of his head.
Kenji Hagiwara's mind went blank for a moment, and he instinctively inhaled to relieve the heat and 'hissed'.
He looked at the other students in dismay, "?!"
The students who had just exclaimed that the ramen wasn't spicy at all, and that it was very tasty and needed to be savored, were like a pack of dogs in a frenzy, all of them red-faced and rampaging towards the drinks cabinet, inhaling and hissing to relieve the spiciness, while accusing each other.
"That's too much, isn't it?!"
"How childish!"
"I didn't realize Date-san wasn't a serious adult either..."
"I told you you're not trustworthy with your 'Mirai-san's right' smile!"
Ichijō Mirai: "?"
He finishes the last bite of ramen, turns his head, and lets out an afterthought, "Ah..."
...Wait, spiciness is a type of pain.