The right hand crawled to the computer to search for the word, saying, "Exactly, you are my host."
"So if you cut me off, which is very unlikely, I can defend myself. I would wither and die, and you would lose your right hand. Worse than that, another insect could take over your brain. In the end, it would be a loss for both of us," the right hand added.
"A loss for both of us? You're the one who ate my right arm without permission!!!" Izumi said, annoyed.
"Hmm, how about this," the right hand said after a moment of silence.
"I'll leave you completely in control of your hand like before when I'm asleep," it proposed.
"What??" Izumi said, displeased with the offer.
"It's a good deal, right?" the right hand replied.
As it transformed from one shape to another, it continued, "We need to cooperate to survive; it's the only choice."
"What? Who said the decision is yours? I see you just want to put an end to this discussion," Izumi said, rejecting what he heard.
"I'm tired, so I'm going to sleep," the right hand said, shifting toward its normal state.
"Wait a moment, we're not done yet! You always do this when things don't go your way, you sly thing," Izumi said, angry at the right hand for repeating the same behavior.
"Use me carefully," were the last words spoken by the right hand before it returned to its normal form.
The right hand disappeared, leaving Izumi angry about how the conversation had ended, yet somewhat satisfied. It was the first time the discussion with his right hand lasted for several minutes, unlike before. Plus, some of the questions that had been troubling his mind were finally answered.
Izumi began to tidy up his room, organizing the books scattered everywhere, and then headed to the breakfast table. His father was, as usual, browsing through the newspapers, while his mother was preparing miso soup for him.
**Breaking News**
"Tokyo residents are experiencing terrifying times due to a surge in horrific murder rates that began three days ago, resulting in the deaths of at least 100 people as of this hour. The Chief of the Tokyo Police Department stated that these crimes are beyond the capacity of a serial killer or any gang, for several reasons. Notably, a group of victims has been found in a short time across different locations. He concluded his remarks by urging residents to comply with previously issued guidelines, including a curfew starting at 7 PM, all to ensure the safety of citizens until the mystery behind these crimes is solved."
— National Channel News Anchor.
"Violent incidents are occurring in Tokyo," the mother commented, her face showing signs of worry as she listened to the TV.
"Ah, Dad, aren't you aware of these crimes? Aren't you in the investigation department?" Izumi asked.
"Yes, my son. We began the investigation as soon as the first crime happened, and it was agreed that we would keep it away from the press. However, with the increasing frequency of the crimes, we realized the necessity of involving the media for assistance; the public needs to take precautions," his father replied.
"This has become terrifying for the residents," the mother said.
"A mother and her daughter were murdered; their bodies in horrific condition. The father is still missing. There was a dismemberment of a living being, with its intestines hung on a clothesline in Kawasaki. The bodies of a family of five were found beheaded in Shinjuku," the father recounted some of the crimes that had occurred.
"Enough talk about this, dear; it's not the right time to hear such things," the mother said.
"Ah, you're right," the father replied.
Albert received news from the X Institute of Scientific Research and Innovation, informing him that he was temporarily suspended from work until he appeared before a disciplinary committee. The charge of breach of trust was not a light one.
After the disappearance of the bag, Albert fell into a psychological crisis. He understood well the implications of this situation; the bag's significance was unknown to him, but the nature of his work made him certain that there was nothing good about what had happened.
"I should have refused from the start to cut my vacation and go pick up something I know nothing about. Here we are—suspended from work and possibly facing worse consequences. Who knows..." he said, sitting at his desk at home, talking to himself.
"Who took it, how, when, and why... I don't know. All I know is that it's foolish to steal something you can't benefit from; it only adds a burden to your shoulders," Albert added.
Albert arrived at the office to give his testimony about how he lost the bag. The director of the institute was waiting for him in his office.
"Hello, how are you? Please, have a seat," the director said, shaking Albert's hand.
"Uh, well, I'm fine, fine," Albert replied, though his demeanor did not reflect his words.
"Tell me, how did this happen? I want to know what occurred before I inform the ethics committee. Don't omit anything. Everything," the director insisted.
"What happened is as follows: I took the bag from the agreed-upon location and brought it to my home..." Albert began.
"What!!! Your home? Since when do we take something related to our work home?" the director interrupted, raising his voice.
"Yes, I know, but I invited a friend over, and I didn't want to leave them alone in the house. I thought I could take the bag home and bring it back the next morning," Albert explained, knowing that what he had done was questionable.
"And? What happened next?" the director asked, puffing out smoke from his cigar.
"I couldn't find the bag!" Albert replied, avoiding eye contact with the director.
"Just like that, Albert!! Who's going to believe what you're saying?" the director said sharply.
"I woke up in the morning, and my friend and his family left after we had breakfast. I went to the basement to check on the bag, but it wasn't where I had left it," Albert said.
"And who is this friend? What does he do?" the director inquired.
"A police detective," Albert replied.
"Could it be?!! But for what purpose!!!" the director asked, trying to help.
"Definitely not. He didn't even care when I was carrying the bag, unlike his son, who was curious about its shape. It was normal curiosity, but not to the extent of... He was with my son the whole time," Albert said.
"And the card! Where do you keep it?" the director inquired.
"It's impossible for anyone to get to it, even if they were family," Albert replied, agitated.
"Could the bag be related to what's happening in Tokyo?!!" After a long silence and hesitation in asking the question, Albert said in a trembling voice.
"Well, that's what I fear... Never repeat such a question to anyone," the director warned.