The Swindler, the Vanishing Man, and the Pretty Boys

14. Mr. Businessman─Or Rather

Mr. Businessman.

The unforgettable fellow with the slicked-back hair who had set this whole case in motion a few days earlier.

“Ah, uh, um─”

I was obviously and completely flustered.

How could I respond properly to such an unexpected question?

No, unexpected was the wrong word─this was what they call “pre-established harmony,” that is, the natural plot line that I should have been expecting and so should have been prepared for. After all, we hadn’t come to play around (Mr. Bare-Legs excluded).

We had come to investigate this enigmatic man who had dropped a wad of cash and then given me a tenth of it─and to discover the real reason he had hidden invitations inside those anti-cost-performance counterfeit bills.

So it was actually inevitable that I’d have to confront the man in question at some point tonight─I just hadn’t thought I’d be doing it alone, and so directly.

I wasn’t prepared for that─which is why I panicked.

But Mr. Businessman paid it no mind.

“My dear sir,” he began politely, “you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. Tell me, what might be the problem?”

In fact, he was so excessively polite that I couldn’t relax.

“Oh, no, it’s not that I’m not enjoying myself…”

Somehow I managed to answer him, however incoherently.

Part of the problem was that since I didn’t know his position, I wasn’t sure what attitude to take toward him─he’d been very polite to me and his question seemed like something casino management would ask, not to mention the fact that he was wearing a tuxedo, quite unlike the suit he’d had on the other day.

It was almost like he was more dressed up than the dressed-up guests. He gave me the same uneasy feeling as last time, but I still didn’t know what was causing it.

“I-It’s just, a gi─I mean, a guy like me doesn’t really know the rules of these games. I only came with my friends…”

I’d remembered my current appearance just in time to frantically switch the “girl” to “guy.”

Right now, I was a pretty boy.

Of course, if I were as mature as the student council president, I probably could have turned it into some sort of elegant joke.

“Your friends? I see.” He nodded significantly. “In that case, what would you say to joining me in a nostalgic game of Othello?”

He pointed to a table tucked into one corner of the hall.

It looked to be in some kind of lounge area. I hadn’t come across it in my tour of the hall, but when I took a closer look, I saw shogi and go boards laid out on the table─along with the Othello board Mr. Businessman had mentioned.

Okay then.

Even I know how to play Othello.

I’m not an idiot, you know.

“A-And─um, you are…” I asked haltingly.

If I ran after him without a second thought, that would be just as bad as letting him foist the hundred thousand yen (of invitation-stuffed counterfeit bills) on me─so I figured I should at least ask who he was first.

“Oh, how inconsiderate of me,” he replied. “My name is Fudatsuki, and I have the good fortune to be the manager and overseer here in famous Kamikazari’s Reasonable Doubt Casino.”

“Infamous?”

“I also happen to be the president of the student council─please, follow me.”

On that suave note, Mr. Businessmen─er, I mean, student council president?─led me over to the table.

So he wasn’t a businessman after all!

He was a middle school student!

That must be why he made me feel uneasy! He wasn’t just childlike, he was actually a child! With those thoughts running through my mind, I followed after him─but seriously, a middle school student?

“Heheheh, I wear makeup to make me look more grown-up─a person can turn into anyone they want, you know.”

I somehow felt as if he was referring to my boy’s getup, and my heart skipped a beat─but after all, I knew a fifth grader who blended in perfectly well with middle school students, so the idea of a middle school student who could pull off a suit or a tuxedo wasn’t all that strange… But if he was student council president, did that mean he was in year 3?

“Oh no, I’m in year 2. The old make way for the young nice and early at our school─unlike Yubiwa Academy.”

“…”

So he knew that I went to Yubiwa Academy─I guess that made sense, since I’d been wearing a uniform the last time we met.

And he─Fudatsuki─apparently remembered that encounter.

When I thought about the possibility that he’d approached me because he recognized me, I tensed up all over again─I’d been tense to start with, but now I realized that this might not be a simple case of the manager showing concern for a “bored customer.”

In which case, I’d better proceed with care.

As a member of the Pretty Boy Detective Club.

…I had no idea how I, the newbie, ended up having to deal head-on with this situation while all the other members got to gamble the night away, but nevertheless, a mission is a mission.

I might have unexpectedly managed to ferret out his name and position, but I still didn’t understand his purpose─and I had to find that out.

He ordered a drink from a bunny girl and sat down at the table.

“Black or white, whichever you prefer.”

He presented me with the choice like a sommelier offering me a glass of wine, but I honestly didn’t care─was there even an advantage to going first or second in Othello? I had a vague idea that going second was better.

“Most likely that’s because if you choose to go second, the option arises of placing your disc at a diagonal─while if you go first, it doesn’t matter where you place your disc, it’s all the same. Which amounts to not having a choice.”

What a logical explanation.

Hmm, so that’s the situation─but what was I supposed to do with a lecture on Othello?

I chose to go first; that is, I chose black.

If I could get away without agonizing over a choice, then I would.

I’d just kind of gotten swept along into playing this game─even though this was no time to be killing time.

Anyway, the Othello board had the discs built into it.

This wasn’t my first time playing the game, but it was my first time with that kind of set.

I’d figured it would be convenient because you can’t lose the discs, but now that I was actually using it, I realized how annoying it was to turn the pieces over… Every time I tried to turn a white piece black only to spin it the wrong way and end up with a blank face, I felt slightly irritated.

I just can’t keep up with the latest technology.

“So tell me, is something bothering you?”

“Oh, yes, um…”

Even though we went to different schools, we were in the same year, so figured it was fine to use casual language with him, but he was so prim and proper that I was having a hard time finding the right moment to make the switch.

I may be a good-for-nothing human being, but I’m not the type to get all high-handed with people in the service industry─leaving aside the question of whether what he did was actually part of the service industry, or actually a job at all.

“I-I was just wondering if this was really okay. I mean, outright gambling inside the school… I was worried we might get in trouble with a teacher or something.”

That was the mild version.

What I really wanted to say was, “Hey, aren’t we gonna get busted by the cops?” (which was still fairly mild), but I couldn’t bring myself to be so blunt to the manager himself.

“Heheh, is that what’s been bothering you? Rest assured, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Fudatsuki smiled.

I almost let that smile reassure me, but wait, what was he basing that on? I couldn’t let myself blindly swallow his reassurances.

A smile doesn’t guarantee anything.

This guy had handed me counterfeit cash.

If I’d used it, I could have gotten in big trouble, and trying to play it off as a joke wouldn’t have gotten me off the hook─I would’ve been committing a crime!

“Why do you say there’s nothing to worry about?”

“Tell me, how did you come to grace the halls of our casino?”

If he recognized me, then that was surely a rhetorical question, but I answered anyway.

I found an invitation inside a counterfeit bill.

“Are there other ways?” I asked.

“Yes, we’ve taken the liberty of coming up with many ingenious methods of sending out our invitations. We stop at nothing to entertain our guests.”

“…”

“A person with the playful spirit to discover that sort of invitation would never report this casino to the police─and so our secret is safe,” Fudatsuki pronounced with the utmost confidence.

His argument wasn’t so different from saying that everyone here was complicit in the crime─but the phrase “playful spirit” was somehow much more persuasive.

Counterfeit bills as an expression of a playful spirit.

In that case, the Reasonable Doubt Casino itself might also be the product of that same playful spirit.

“…Do you turn a profit?” I asked.

The question might be unsophisticated, but I had to ask─although I did understand his point.

For instance, he ostentatiously drops a million yen, then presents whoever picks it up with a hundred thousand yen containing ten invitations. Any person who figures out that the money is counterfeit, and on top of that that there are invitations inside, has got to be not only sharp and sharp-eyed, but also in some way a kindred spirit.

That person may not be complicit in the crime, but as long as a sense of kinship exists…

…That should allow him to find companions who will “come out and play,” although I should add the caveat, “As long as they don’t have eyesight like mine.” Still, the expense was enormous, and to be blunt, it was wretchedly inefficient.

Even without the cost, I’m sure he could find friends a whole lot faster by advertising online.

The invitations clearly took plenty of time and effort to put together, let alone this gorgeous venue─and while the chips here might cost as much as they did at a real casino, didn’t those places make their real profits on the so-called “high rollers”?

As fancy as the place might look, I could hardly imagine that there were any millionaires among the kids gambling here (except the scion of a certain foundation, that is).

“Oh my, you are kind to be concerned for our welfare. Thank you ever so much.”

I went and got myself thanked.

Though I wouldn’t say I was concerned about them.

“We do indeed turn a profit. This is not my only business venture, you see─and I’ve been at it a long time.”

“Oh…”

So he’d been running other businesses as well, and for a long time? Unbelievable. I’d always thought my neighborhood was peaceful, but now I was starting to wonder if I lived in a den of vice and crime.

“All games, fun and games. Or you could call it investment─after all, job creation is essential.”

“Job creation… Speaking of which, is everyone who works here a student at Kamikazari Middle?” I asked, peering around.

There were the dealers, the bunny girls, the plainclothes security.

And they must need people to deliver the beverages, look after the tables, and maintain the slot machines, too.

“Yes, for the most part. Our school has many students with special circumstances─and in any event, it’s never too early to learn a trade, is it?”

His speech rang hollow.

To me, working here looked like just another kind of game.

Which was probably a perfectly healthy thing─but given that the whole place was also illegal, I felt like it hardly deserved praise.

Although maybe I only felt that way because I’d discovered the invitations by using the “trick” of looking right through the bills, which meant we’d come here via something of an underhanded route ourselves…

Before I knew it, the Othello board was covered with pieces─about an even split between black and white, so I couldn’t tell at a glance who had won.

Huh. Since the pieces were attached to the board, you couldn’t just sweep them up into a stack and count them… Yeah, convenience always comes at a cost.

Plus, getting the board back to its starting point at the end of the game took a fair amount of work─I suppose it’s a question of personal preference, but I like the standard boards with the loose pieces better.

I bet Michiru the Epicure (who’s a neat freak, as it turns out) would definitely prefer this kind of board, though.

Anyhow, since we were playing a game, I figured we should at least figure out who’d won, so I started counting out the pieces, attempting to wrap up our conversation at the same time. “So, when it comes right down to it, I should think of this casino, invitations and all, as a little game of yours?”

With what he’d said about diversified investments and labor-force training, I ended up sounding like some wearisome auditor, but that’s why I came here in the first place, so what can you do?

Why was he doing this? To what end? The answer seemed to be, “Because it’s fun.”

Because it’s a game.

It wasn’t much, but if that was the only answer, I’d have to accept it─and if you said human beings instinctively love to play, I’d have to nod in agreement.

I guess I should feel satisfied.

But I wasn’t so sure the leader would be equally satisfied.

He was Manabu the Aesthete, after all.

Leaving aside the issue of a disregard for profit, I wasn’t sure he’d approve of succumbing to the instinctual urge to play with no concern for aesthetics─although experience had already taught me that beautiful mysteries don’t necessarily have beautiful solutions.

The score was 33 black to 31 white. I’d won, but by such a narrow margin that I wondered if Fudatsuki hadn’t lost on purpose.

Was he just showing me a good time with a nostalgic round of Othello, like he’d promised?

If so, then I felt small for being so fixated on figuring out who’d won─although I couldn’t do much about it now.

Anyway, I’d accomplished my goal, so I figured I’d gather up the boys and head out─before the delinquent went bankrupt.

But just as that thought crossed my mind, a bunny girl approached our table.

“Maestro.”

She clearly wasn’t there to refill our drinks.

“We have a problem.”