DN 15: Aliens

News spreads fast in media circles.

Word of Suwa Michihiko's shooting death tore through NTV's building. No sooner had police carted off his body than a swarm of newsroom reporters, cameras in tow, descended with gleeful intensity.

"Matsuo-san! Matsuo-san!"

"How do you feel right now?"

"Rumors say your show's getting axed. Could a fan have snapped, unable to accept it?"

"Or did you and Director Suwa clash, and that's why—"

The reporters shoved mics in Takashi Matsuo's face, their rapid-fire questions slamming into him like a barrage. His expression darkened.

"Shut up!" he roared, eyes blazing, waving off the pack. "Are you ever done?!"

Police nearby stepped in to corral the media.

As an officer moved to usher Matsuo aside, he trembled, his gaze shadowed, barely holding it together. "We did talk about canceling the show… but, but Suwa-san told me he still wanted me to host."

"And the reason he was in the sound room during the broadcast? He wanted to discuss it. He said after the show, we'd figure out how to make the content sharper…"

"But now…!"

Matsuo's eyes brimmed with tears.

The reporters fell silent, mics poised, soaking in his performance.

"I, Takashi Matsuo, swear before everyone here!" he declared. "I'll carry Suwa-san's vision forward, keep hosting this show, and…" His jaw clenched, his stare fierce. "I'll put this case on air and do everything to find his killer!"

The sound room's TV blared his vow live, synced to NTV's evening news.

"This guy think we can't catch the killer ourselves?" Inspector Megure Juuzo muttered, annoyed.

Suwa had been monitoring the show here, so naturally, the TV was on, tuned to NTV. Now it broadcast the live news.

"A colleague dies, and these reporters are buzzing, lugging cameras for a live feed…" Nanami Asamiya said, standing at the sound room's entrance, her face uneasy.

Eri Kisaki, unfazed, shrugged. "That's media for you."

"Masaki-san, back to what you were saying—what'd you find?"

"It's Matsuo-san, no doubt. He's the killer," Hayato Masaki said with a smile, stepping out after a brief look inside.

He didn't lower his voice.

With reporters and Matsuo at the door, his words hit like a spark. Matsuo, mid-teary monologue for the cameras, spun around. "What're you babbling about, Masaki-san?!"

"Me, kill Suwa? Sure, we argued, but that was…" He shoved past the cameras, frantic. "Hey, police aren't buying this just 'cause he said it, right? Haven't they pinned down Suwa's time of death yet?"

"Suwa-san's death was between 8:15 and 8:55 p.m.—a forty-minute window," Hayato answered.

His refined features carried a poised smile as he raised a finger. "At 8:15, Matsuo-san, you asked a staffer to call and check Suwa-san's location. I heard it, standing nearby."

"I was just—"

"Not important. For efficiency, let me finish," Hayato cut in. "By 8:55, post-show, when staff called again, no one answered. So I'm placing Suwa-san's death in that window."

"Exactly!" Matsuo shouted. "I was taping the whole time! How could I kill him?"

"During the show's final segment, a four-minute VCR played. You slipped away then, didn't you?"

"Four minutes?!"

Matsuo's yell masked a flicker of glee. Those four minutes were the crux of his meticulous plan.

"You know the studio's on the ninth floor. Run down to the fourth, kill Suwa, and back? No way that fits!"

"You're right," Hayato said, nodding unexpectedly.

He glanced at his watch, his expression eerily serene. "When we heard Suwa-san was dead, we rushed from backstage. The direct stairs were blocked, so it took about seven minutes. Even at top speed, maybe six."

"You timed that?" Megure asked, startled.

Hayato didn't answer.

Matsuo straightened, smug. "So you see, it's impossible—"

"But from the seventh floor, fire a shot and return to the studio? Two minutes, if you're quick."

"!!"

Hayato's even tone drained the color from Matsuo's face. His chest tightened, breath catching.

Clinging to a shred of hope, he forced calm. "Seventh floor? The police said the killer came through the door—"

"The building's layout is irregular for set designs. Windows vary by room. Look up from this sound room's window—no openings on the fifth or sixth floors, but the seventh has one."

Matsuo's legs wobbled.

If he could, he'd silence that voice forever.

But Hayato pressed on. "You know, Matsuo-san, when I opened that window and saw the one directly above on the seventh, it clicked. The method's so simple—almost dull. I didn't even bother noting it for my writing."

"…"

"Hold on, Masaki-kun," Megure said, dazed, eyeing the sound room's window. "You're saying Suwa was shot from the seventh floor when he leaned out to look up?"

"Exactly."

"But why'd he stick his head out?"

"No idea. Maybe the killer called, told him to look outside—like, say, aliens or a UFO."

Hayato's cheeky grin made Megure's mouth twitch.

Matsuo, who'd been loud till now, fell mute.

***

If you enjoyed this story, don't forget to drop 5 stars and your power stone. And if you want to read more than 30 chapters in advance, feel free to visit: pat reon . com / KangTL