Chapter Twenty-Eight: Truths Revealed in Drunkenness

While Chen Ziang and Suzuna Tsukimiya were drinking in an izakaya, the Sixth Countermeasures Division was already drowning in work. Currently, the division had seven active agents, including Chief Kensuke Takahashi. Given that Suzuna Tsukimiya was not yet able to work independently and the chief himself was mostly occupied with management and administrative duties, there were only five agents truly capable of handling cases.

These five varied in their abilities. Chen Ziang ranked second in seniority, yet his skills surpassed even Deputy Chief Ken Saki’s, making him the strongest asset in the entire division. Typically, he would take on the top thirty percent of the toughest cases, while the remaining seventy percent would be divided among the other four.

Now that Chen Ziang was suspended, his thirty percent share had to be redistributed among the remaining four, which spelled disaster—everyone’s working hours shot up to over twelve hours a day. Breaks were gone, lunch was a luxury, and even mealtime was ruthlessly cut short.

The agents of the Sixth Division now faced two choices: death by overwork or a grave accident.

Chief Kensuke Takahashi couldn’t take it any longer. Once again, he barged into Eikenshin Baba’s office to pester the Commissioner.

“So why is there suddenly a manpower shortage?” Eikenshin Baba asked in a low voice. “If you can’t function with one person missing, doesn’t that mean your staffing structure was flawed from the start?”

Takahashi wanted to curse but could only patiently explain, “Recruitment has always been a challenge. Our division has extremely high standards for new agents—they must already have a deep understanding of the occult before joining. Such candidates are exceedingly rare.”

“Have you considered training them after hiring?” Baba offered. “Lower the bar for occult knowledge assessments, bring people in first, and provide training later.”

Takahashi fell silent.

Lowering the bar for occult knowledge in a department specializing in supernatural anomalies—did the Commissioner even realize what he was saying? That was like hiring barbers who’d never cut hair before—brilliant idea!

“Just try it,” Baba replied with enthusiasm. “I suspect your agents are exploiting the staff shortage, thinking the division can’t function without them. That’s why they’re insubordinate and undisciplined. This must be corrected! Once an effective talent pipeline is established, we’ll immediately begin rectifying the workplace atmosphere and put an end to this toxic culture.”

Takahashi was utterly hopeless, forced to nod in resignation.

The real problem was this: the Sixth Division was already stretched past its limits, yet the Commissioner was fixated on “toxic culture” and “talent pipelines,” never once mentioning restoring Chen Ziang to his post!

At this rate, disaster was inevitable.

But Takahashi knew his superior too well—an island bureaucrat through and through: “When all is calm, make a mess; when trouble comes, pass the blame; when it blows up, bow deeply, and if that fails, grovel on the floor.” In other words, as long as nothing had actually happened, the man would never feel the pain.

Returning to his office with a grim face, Deputy Chief Ken Saki quickly approached. “Any luck? Did he relent?”

Takahashi shook his head.

Hearing that their chief had failed once again, the team couldn’t even summon the energy to curse “Baba the Idiot.” They simply dragged themselves through their work like the walking dead.

Meanwhile, the izakaya gathering had ended, and the group was slowly making their way out. Because Chen Ziang’s partner was Suzuna Tsukimiya, his enthusiastic colleagues had made sure he drank several extra cups of sake. He was now slightly tipsy—the sake was mild, enough to relax him but not to make him drunk. Yet Suzuna insisted he was, and insisted on seeing him home, to the envy of the other men.

“Do your best,” Asahiya Yu said, briefcase in hand, patting Chen Ziang’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about any pressure; I’ll keep the others in line.”

Clearly, even the boss was not blind to the subtle jealousy brewing among the team.

The izakaya was close to home, so Chen Ziang walked, Suzuna Tsukimiya alongside him, clinging to his arm as if supporting a frail old man.

“I’m fine,” Chen Ziang waved her off. “I’m not drunk, you don’t need to hold me.”

“Senpai, every drunk man insists he isn’t drunk,” Suzuna replied, refusing to let go. “Why don’t I quiz you to test your sobriety?”

“Go ahead!” Chen Ziang responded cheerfully.

“I have two lipsticks with me.” Suzuna took out two identically packaged lipsticks from her bag, uncapped them, and held them out. “Tell me, which one is the darker shade?”

Chen Ziang was speechless.

Weren’t these exactly the same color?

He squinted under the streetlamp, trying hard to distinguish between the two. “I think… well, the one on the left seems a bit darker…”

“Are you sure?” Suzuna gave him a mysterious, teasing smile.

“…Forget it, let’s go home.” Chen Ziang finally gave in.

They walked along the levee by the Tone River, running into a neighbor’s family out for a stroll.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Chen.”

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Ogawa.”

“Is this your girlfriend? She’s so beautiful!”

“No, she’s my colleague.”

“Oh, really? Sorry, you just look so perfect together…”

After a few words, the neighbors took their leave.

Suzuna, delighted, smiled at Chen Ziang. “Senpai, Mrs. Ogawa said I was pretty!”

Chen Ziang looked at her quietly, thinking it wasn’t flattery but simple truth.

He had never dared to imagine, until now, that he could walk alongside such a beautiful girl.

But…

“Suzuna,” he said softly.

“What is it, Senpai?” Suzuna blinked.

“Getting suspended because you argued with the boss,” Chen Ziang said slowly, “that’s something you shouldn’t do again.”

Suzuna was silent for a moment, then turned to gaze at the clear waters of the Tone River.

“But didn’t Senpai argue with the boss first?” she asked.

“I had no choice,” Chen Ziang explained. “The Mandala Sword of Law is important to me—”

“Then am I not important to you, Senpai?” Suzuna interrupted.

Her voice was quiet, yet with that one sentence she pierced through all of Chen Ziang’s defenses, leaving him speechless.

It wasn’t until a window’s light went out in a nearby house that Chen Ziang finally found his voice.

“Why?” he asked, struggling. “Suzuna, I don’t understand. Why would you…”

His words stuck in his throat, for at some point Suzuna had stepped forward and gently embraced him.

She stretched up on tiptoe, brought her lips to his ear, and spoke in a clear, ringing voice:

“Senpai.”

“Do you believe someone can be trapped for a lifetime by a single sentence—just one sentence?”

Before he could answer, Suzuna let go and spun lightly away.

“I believe it,” she said, spreading her arms and swaying along the white painted line at the edge of the road like a child playing on a balance beam. “So don’t ask me why.”

“Be careful!” Chen Ziang wanted to ask her what that sentence was, but the grass bank sloped steeply off the painted line, and he had to call out to warn her.

Suzuna suddenly tottered to the right, and Chen Ziang rushed forward in three big steps to steady her before she fell.

She clung to his arm, barely regaining her balance, then burst out laughing until tears almost came to her eyes.

“I think you’re the one who’s really drunk,” Chen Ziang said with exasperation.

“Yup, I’m drunk, Senpai. Carry me home,” Suzuna said, wrapping her arms around his and pouting softly.

“Walk by yourself!”