It’s the Scent of a Mission
But it doesn't matter.
There's no such thing as 'welcome' in this world, but after a few beatings, 'unwelcome' automatically becomes 'welcome'.
Were the guys who got a warm visit from Ichijō Mirai on the first night and died in one piece welcoming him?
Did they joyfully and enthusiastically put their heads to the guns and strongly implore Ichijō Mirai to pull the trigger? No.
But it could be.
The dead can't talk, it's the living who can tell it like it is.
Ichijō Mirai didn't care much about automatically giving himself the two tasks that the game would definitely give him, 'find out why he's not welcome at the police academy' and 'make him welcome at the police academy'.
He added out loud, "I can't shoot, I'm not a good shooter."
The voice was not loud.
But the military formation, like the surface of a lake blown by the wind, turned into an owl formation once again, and some of the freshmen around him couldn't help but turn their heads to Ichijō Mirai with a silent but deafening shock: What, you call that 'can't shoot'?
The new students didn't understand, but they were shocked.
If they were gamers, they'd have to sit up in the middle of the night when they couldn't sleep or toss and turn, angrily open their friends' dialog boxes and start swiping.
There was a noticeable turn of heads.
Not far away, standing near the firing line, a police academy staff member, who was wearing a different uniform from the instructors, sternly shouted, "What are you moving about!"
Once again, the owl formation solidified into a military position.
Ichijō Mirai didn't move from the beginning, and calmly observed the formation that was almost completely transformed into owls.
'Almost' because there were a few freshmen who didn't turn into owls with round eyes.
Three of them were just talking, the fluffy brunette in the second row, the blonde and brunette in the third row, and the short-haired and mature freshman in the fourth row.
The first two, next to them, were equally stoic, with expressions of shock and accusation not unlike those of the owls.
Five in all.
The five of them stood out among the rounded group of accusing owls, and Ichijō Mirai decided that they were not NPCs.
After the disciplinarian averted his eyes, the first fluffy black-haired freshman to speak spoke again, "My name is Matsuda Jinpei."
He was visibly speechless, though not shocked, and took a moment to ask seriously, "I see that when you fired your gun, you were aiming at the flag first?"
"At the height you raised the muzzle, the crosshair was aimed at the end of the flag."
Ichijō Mirai's reference was indeed the flag.
But, "Crosshairs?"
He thought for a moment, "You mean the notched at the front of a pistol is a crosshair? No."
"For me, that's not the crosshairs. I use the corners of the gun to aim. When the right edge of the corner coincides with the tip of the top of the flag, if I move it down a few centimeters, I can just hit the target."
The military formation was still the military formation, and the fluffy black-haired new student was not just Matsuda Jinpei. Halfway through, he couldn't help but look back, turning into a confused owl, "Huh?"
Him: "Huh????"
The blond freshman couldn't help but move, barely suppressing the instinct to turn around and look Ichijō Mirai up and down, "Aiming at the edges?"
For those who don't know guns, the distance between the prongs and the notched sights isn't that far.
But for people who know about guns, this sentence is no less annoying than hearing the person sitting next to you complaining on the phone: 'It's so annoying. The director actually wants me to work overtime. I've been using the computer to crack his head. Tomorrow is the weekend, and I have to get up early to deal with the scene. It's annoying.'
It's a bit of a daily routine, but it's also quite explosive.
A black-haired freshman next to the blond freshman moved his toes, then steadied himself. He exhaled slowly and reminded him of something, "There's something wrong with the rifling of that gun."
A normal gun, aiming with the prongs, will definitely miss the target, but a gun with faulty rifling...
The disciplinary officer turns his head again, "Quiet!"
"What are you turning your heads for," he sternly scolded, "when you enter the academy, you'll have a time to bond and call each other brothers!"
Immediately, the formation quieted down.
Ichijō Mirai knew better: the freshmen probably didn't want to have friendly exchanges with him, much less call him "brother," but just want to light up their bloodstains and beat themselves up.
That's the basic respect for a pretender.
He waited until the disciplinarian was no longer paying attention, then spoke up and asked for the highlights: "Something wrong with the rifling on that gun?"
And then, without waiting for an answer, he realized, "No wonder I can't get a good aim. It's not me."
It's the gun!
This way back, rounding up, it was the gun that was the problem when the shot was fired before!
Freshmen: "..."
In the midst of a deadly silence, there was a low chuckle, followed by a cough that stopped the laughter, "Ahem, Kujō-
It was the black-haired freshman next to the blond.
He introduced himself, "My name is Morofushi Hiromitsu."
The blond also introduced himself, "I'm Furuya Rei."
The introductions were friendly, but the tone was inexplicably haunted.
"Kenji Hagiwara, you can call me Kenji-san," the dark-haired freshman next to Matsuda Jinpei introduced himself, a smirk in his tone and a seriousness in his voice, "Kujō-san, be careful, Jinpei-san is going to remember you fondly."
"When he was shooting, he was using the same gun as you, and standing in the same position."
That's why Ichijō Mirai's flippant set of maneuvers was even more impressive, and his blood pressure was even higher.
Ichijō Mirai realized that he could hold a grudge.
NPCs that can hold grudges are no longer just passerby NPCs, and have so many lines!
He immediately saved the file and asked directly: "Do you have any clues about Instructor Onidzuka?"
When they are all freshmen, it is normal to ask other freshmen 'What do you think of the instructor?' when they meet for the first time.
But from the perspective of Matsuda Jinpei and others, Onidzuka Hachizo obviously knew Ichijō Mirai, and knew some personal privacy matters, such as 'gunshot wound' and 'only child'.
The question was a bit impolite, so they all ignored Onidzuka Hachizo's attitude. Ichijō Mirai asked instead, which was a bit surprising, "Huh?"
The conversation was low enough that the disciplinarian didn't look over.
Wataru Date spoke first, "To what Instructor Onidzuka said?"
"You know Instructor Onidzuka, Kujō-san," he said with a straight face, remembering to keep his mouth shut and his bite clear, "I don't agree with his opinion."
"'Because of a gunshot wound', 'because of being the only child in the family', it's better not to enter the police academy and quit early to go home and be a normal person, I don't agree."
"In case of illness, in case of natural disasters such as earthquakes and fires, in case of drowning and automobile accidents, does
Izanami is the neon lord of the underworld, a sort of Shinigami.
"That kind of reasoning is akin to the police being so weak that when they encounter a robber, instead of stopping him, they just fall to their knees and beg for forgiveness." Wataru Date's expression tightened, and his thick eyebrows rose up.
He was careful not to raise his voice too loudly.
After two seconds, he abruptly ignored the previous sentence and continued Izanami's sentence, "Will the criminal suddenly ask the victim whether he is weak, the only child, or whether he has children when committing a crime, and if so, will he let the victim go?"
No.
Ichijō Mirai is pretty sure that there are very few criminals who have the luxury of asking such questions.
But: You're reacting so violently, Mr. Wataru.jpg
It's the scent of a mission.jpg