Chapter 55: On-Location TV Drama Incident

The next day.

After spending the day trailing a cheating spouse case, Fujino rushed to the filming set of The Threat Among the Laughing Shadows.

Initially, he'd been planning to turn down this particular commission.

But the moment Yoko Okino mentioned that the job came with a ¥300,000 commission and a stay at a luxury ryokan…

His attitude changed instantly.

¥300,000 wasn't exactly a fortune, but it was roughly equivalent to the monthly salary of an above-average Japanese corporate employee.

Getting paid that much just for standing around and offering advice? You'd have to be a fool to turn that down.

To be honest, though, it wasn't really about the money. Nor did he particularly care about staying in a fancy ryokan.

The real reason he agreed was because of Yoko Okino's heartfelt sincerity!

—

Bathed in the glow of dusk, the old shrine radiated a crimson hue, echoing with the distant cries of crows.

The red sunset reflected off Yoko Okino's pale, beautiful face, now streaked with smears of blood.

She stood in front of the shrine, tightly gripping a blood-stained fruit knife in her hand, staring blankly at the man sprawled before her.

Her once pristine blue dress was now drenched in crimson.

The man wore a casual short-sleeved outfit, lying spread-eagle on the shrine's stone pathway.

Blood gushed from a stab wound in his chest, seeping into the cracks between the stones glowing under the sunset.

A few moments later, Yoko's dazed expression began to shift.

The knife slipped from her trembling hand and clattered to the ground as disbelief flooded her face.

"This can't be… I… I never meant to kill him…"

Murmuring, she collapsed onto the ground, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

Moments later, a gut-wrenching wail erupted from her throat.

"Cut!"

Just as Yoko's sobs reached a crescendo, the director suddenly yelled, breaking the tense atmosphere.

Grinning broadly, he waved the script in his hand.

"Excellent! That scene was perfect! Yoko, you were fantastic!"

"No wonder you're a top-tier actress—you performed like it was real."

Meanwhile, Fujino sat bored on a stone step nearby, lazily watching the scene unfold.

Hearing that the scene was wrapped, he exhaled softly and muttered:

"If someone didn't know better, they'd think a murder just took place."

Relieved that filming had finished, Yoko slightly bowed toward the "corpse" lying at her feet.

"Thank you so much for your cooperation."

"Hmph! A handsome actor like me—Nachi Shingo—would never mess up a role!"

The actor playing the corpse, Nachi Shingo, stood up with an air of smug self-importance.

"Seriously? How much acting does playing a corpse even require?"

Fujino watched the scene with an expression of speechless disdain, muttering under his breath:

"I'm pretty sure I could just lie down and pull that off myself."

And honestly, he wasn't wrong.

After all—he'd seen real corpses before. He knew exactly how a real dead body should look.

But this Nachi Shingo guy? What the hell?

No matter how many times they corrected him, his exaggerated, melodramatic "dead pose" just looked ridiculous.

His acting was embarrassingly bad. Fujino couldn't fathom how this guy even managed to become an actor.

"Detective Fujino, what did you think of that scene just now?"

At that moment, the director came over and asked for his opinion.

"Eh, it was fine. Nothing special, but solidly competent."

After thinking for a second, Fujino added,

"If that pompous guy could manage to die a bit more convincingly, the whole scene would've been perfect."

"There's no such thing as perfection in this world."

The director scratched his head and sighed softly.

Honestly, he could see that Nachi Shingo's acting was dragging Yoko's performance down.

But what could he do? That guy was personally appointed by the investors.

If Nachi Shingo hadn't acted in this film, the whole production would have been scrapped.

Fujino could only nod in understanding.

Sometimes, when you're making films, a director's hands are tied.

—

"Hey… wanna go grab dinner with me tonight?"

"Forget it."

"C'mon, what's the harm? It's just dinner."

Nearby, a voice full of sleazy intent broke through the background noise.

"Tch, that bastard's hitting on Taeko again…"

"I'll talk to you later, Detective Fujino—I need to go smooth things over."

The director grumbled in frustration, gave Fujino a quick nod, and then hurried over toward Nachi Shingo, who was pestering one of the female crew members, Mame-tsuna Taeko.

"She's getting married next month, damn it…" the director muttered.

"Right, Shima-saki?"

He glanced at the man standing next to him—a guy with spiky hair wearing a white T-shirt.

That man was Shimazaki Yuji, the assistant director of this production, responsible for handling the day-to-day logistics on set.

"Yeah… that's right."

Shimazaki awkwardly scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed.

"People always look like roses before they get married… but who knows what'll happen after, huh?"

Just then, an unpleasant, mocking voice interjected.

Fujino followed the sound and saw a greasy-looking man in a red cap putting down his camera, sneering sarcastically at the group.

"You're full of shit!"

Shimazaki Yuji's face twisted with rage. He stormed forward, ready to confront the man.

"Yuji, don't. Let it go."

Taeko quickly held him back.

"We're getting married next month. Don't start unnecessary trouble."

"But that asshole's always running his mouth!"

Shimazaki clenched his fists, glaring murderously at the man.

No one could blame him. If someone was about to get married and heard crap like that, they'd lose it too.

"Hey, I wasn't talking about you two specifically."

The red-capped man sneered smugly.

"Or are you two just admitting it yourselves? Hahaha!"

"Geh geh geh!"

Suddenly, an eerie chuckle came from the man as he raised his wrist to show off a watch shaped like a skull.

"I bought this in the States last month. Pretty cool, huh?"

"This guy's gonna be the victim in this case…"

Standing off to the side, Fujino muttered softly to himself, sizing up the man.

His name was Anzai Mamoru, a cameraman's assistant on the film crew.

Everything about him screamed slimy and unpleasant.

Even when Fujino had first arrived, Anzai had mocked him under his breath.

"What's it to you how people live after they get married?"

Fujino shook off his thoughts and stood up slowly.

"By the way, aren't you pushing thirty already? Don't tell me you still don't have a girlfriend."

"With that plain mug of yours and greasy street vibe, I doubt you'll find anyone anytime soon… And seriously—aren't you too old to be wearing a kid's skull watch?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

Anzai exploded in fury, immediately revealing his true, volatile personality, rushing forward as if ready to fight.

"Aw, did I hit a nerve? Are you mad now?"

With a faint, fake smile on his face, Fujino added coldly,

"But before you think about laying a hand on me—consider this: if word got out that someone tried to attack a famous detective on a movie set, whose reputation do you think would go down the drain?"

"Cheh!"

With a resentful glare, Anzai swallowed his rage and stormed off in frustration.

(End of Chapter)