Chapter Seventeen: Let's Go Together

At the Mihana Precinct Dojo, all off-duty officers were dressed in martial arts uniforms, seated formally as they listened to Deputy Chief Murasakihara Tora explain and demonstrate the use of the riot fork.

Many of the officers were already nodding off.

After all, "off-duty" often meant either just finishing a night shift, about to start one, or currently on duty but without urgent tasks.

Moreover, today’s pressure was heavier than usual.

Because not only was Deputy Chief Murasakihara demonstrating at the front, but also a towering figure, like a small mountain, sat at the head of the dojo.

Snicker—

Seiko Fuji was about to sneak a nap herself but, upon seeing Minamoto and Yamada both looking exhausted, she couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

“Hey! Fuji, don’t gloat!”

“Yeah, Fuji-senpai, do you know how we feel right now?” Minamoto and Yamada joined in with their complaints.

“Don’t look so glum. Maybe... you two will improve! This is helping the leadership move, after all! Kawai, we didn’t have such insight back then, did we?”

“You jerk...”

Their whispered chatter was overheard by Murasakihara.

A sharp *click* of the riot fork pointed at them, and the three immediately fell silent.

“What are the four of you whispering about?” Murasakihara scolded.

Kawai wanted to say, “It has nothing to do with me—I’m about to fall asleep!”

“Watch carefully, alright? The four of you, pair up and practice so I can see. Everyone else, form pairs to train as well! This year’s Metropolitan Police Competition—we must at least rank in the top fifty!” Murasakihara said, his spirit fired up.

Though the goal was realistic—there were only 106 precincts in the metropolis, and top fifty was just the upper half. Remember, Mihana Precinct was one of the 22 major stations.

“Um...”

Suddenly, someone raised their hand. Murasakihara looked over and saw it was an older officer. So he softened his tone.

“Chief Ohara, any questions?”

Obviously, this was a neighborhood station chief.

“Well... about the practical drills... may I request leave? Last night... I twisted my back playing horsey with my grandson...” Ohara said sheepishly.

Murasakihara: ...

Another senior officer also raised his hand. “Deputy Chief, include me out, too. I’m fifty-nine this year. The metropolitan competition probably doesn’t need me... and if I get injured before retirement, it’d only be a burden.”

Murasakihara: ...

Seiko Fuji shamelessly chimed in, “Deputy Chief, please spare us women and children from bodily harm!”

“That’s rich, calling yourself women and children...” Minamoto muttered but immediately raised his hand. “Deputy Chief, we were on surveillance all night yesterday. This morning... we were helping out cheerfully, but now we’re drained.”

Murasakihara: ...

“Sounds like good reasons... I hope the criminals are so considerate, not attacking officers fresh from surveillance, nor older officers, nor female officers... and ideally, they won’t harm civilians in front of them, or they might be unstoppable,” Deputy Chief Murasakihara said sternly.

Hearing this, everyone understood: there was no escaping today’s training.

Still, many frontline officers confident in their strength muttered—perhaps they could control suspects, but they just didn’t use the so-called “arresting techniques.”

But what did that matter?

The best cat catches the mouse.

Captain Shiraishi saw through their thoughts.

The so-called “arresting techniques” weren’t just hand-to-hand combat moves or holds; they referred to using various restraining police equipment like riot shields and riot forks.

Shiraishi understood their reluctance but didn’t agree.

“Deputy Chief, may I say something?” Shiraishi stood up.

Though he was new and young, when the new captain rose, everyone became serious and sat up straighter.

Whether from rumor or his physique, the new captain was known as a formidable man, not just promoted because of the “special forces” advantage—especially in combat.

Even without believing the wild stories, no one doubted his fighting ability just by looking at him.

“I understand everyone’s feelings... Indeed, as long as you’re physically fit, you can often handle fleeing suspects. But... it’s not always ‘often,’ is it?” Shiraishi started by voicing their thoughts, but with a “however.”

“Is our goal really just to catch suspects ‘most of the time,’ but in the ‘few times’ we can’t, just let them go or have officers get injured?” Shiraishi challenged.

Then, softening his tone, he continued, “How about this... let’s use the real police equipment now.”

He took six towels and hung them on his black belt, then said, “Everyone has one. Whoever grabs one of my towels tomorrow gets a day off. Don’t worry about your duties—I’ll work overtime to cover for you, and you won’t need to attend weekly arrest technique trainings anymore.”

“Of course, you can still use riot shields and riot forks... because if you’re empty-handed, you stand no chance.”

Shiraishi stood loosely but with an imposing presence.

Though he appeared relaxed, his stature and aura naturally commanded respect.

This was Shiraishi deliberately holding back his full intensity, which finally tempted someone to take up the offer.

“Captain! I’ll take the challenge!”

A sturdy, muscular young officer with thick eyebrows stood up.

“Araki! You fool...” Chief Ohara sighed helplessly.

The first to step forward was patrol officer Kankichi Ryotsu from Ohara’s neighborhood station—modeled after the famous character from the Oolong Police Station.

“Patrol Officer Ryotsu? Hmm, you’ve been doing well lately,” Shiraishi praised him.

In reality...

Well, not really!

He caused trouble every day.

But through Shiraishi’s discerning eyes, despite being “just a patrol officer” and often causing chaos, Ryotsu was an SR-grade officer.

The precinct had no SSRs; only four and a half SRs—two deputy chiefs included—and bottom-tier patrol officer Ryotsu among them.

Shiraishi didn’t see this as “wasted talent,” though.

Because Ryotsu’s ability was below even an R-rank, with many N-ranks.

His SR rating came from an unusual special effect—“Blunder Power”: while on patrol duty, the crime rate in the neighborhood dropped sharply, but it frequently caused other troubles and complaints.

“Heh heh heh, that’s not really true!” Ryotsu grinned foolishly, pleased by the new captain’s recognition.

But Shiraishi emphasized, “However... Ryotsu, what are you talking about? The challenge has already started, hasn’t it? Of course... all of you go in together! Otherwise, how else would there be a chance...?”