The part-time job was settled.
Amuro Toru asked a few more questions.
After learning that Jangxia Tongzhi had done a lot of part-time work before and was familiar with the usual routines, Amuro realized that this new apprentice—whom he'd been forced to accept—might actually be pretty practical.
—Amuro himself often works in different places.
But many shops hiring part-timers prefer people with stable schedules.
Amuro, who juggles several jobs, is always busy and frequently plays the pigeon boss.
So, even though he's highly competent and gets the job done well, it's inevitable that he ends up getting fired.
Amuro takes on these part-time gigs to gather intelligence. But this whole getting-fired-every-time thing kind of gets in the way.
Now with Jangxia around, things might be different.
—When he can't show up, he can have Jangxia sub in temporarily.
That way, as long as there's no serious "we're swamped and nobody's here" situation, Amuro's chances of being fired drop significantly.
Granted, the shop Jangxia's working at now might be at risk of being smashed up by local thugs.
But Jangxia claimed those guys can't beat him in a direct fight, and if they try to play yin, they probably won't dare to follow him around long-term.
They'd only stir up trouble if Jangxia stayed too long at a particular store and they spotted him.
But if he's just there for half a day to sub in, nothing major should happen.
And if the store-smashing crowd turns out to be particularly hard to handle, they could always arrange for a few police officers to patrol nearby and arrest some people while they're at it…
…
Amuro mentally listed out Jangxia's benefits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. He felt a lot more at ease.
He rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a spare set of keys, and handed them to Jangxia. "You know how to receive customers?"
Jangxia glanced at the teacup on the table. "Like how you received me just now?"
"Yeah." Amuro nodded and pointed to the bookshelf. "Order forms are there. Tea is in the upper cabinet, cold drinks in the fridge… If it's too much trouble, just give them water. Anyway, this place doesn't need to rack up performance."
Jangxia: "…"
Having an organization to fund your operation sure makes you arrogant.
Amuro pulled out an address book:
"If you're unsure about a case, just say we're fully booked and refer them to another agency. The list's here, with notes on each detective's specialty. You can use it for reference."
Once everything was explained, Amuro began gently kicking him out: "Okay, you can go home for today. From tomorrow, drop by the office whenever you're free."
He planned to tidy up after Jangxia left—just in case any identity-revealing stuff was lying around.
Also, he needed to install more cameras and bugs.
Jangxia might've been "saved," but Amuro wasn't letting his guard down.
…
When Jangxia left the office, it was still early.
He looked at the surrounding buildings and thought that, if he wanted to attract more ghostly clients, he might need to get a billboard.
—If you walk about ten meters from the Amuro Detective Agency, you reach the main road.
And diagonally across that main road is, conveniently, the Metropolitan Police Department.
The police aren't omnipotent. After a bunch of disappointed folks leave the police station, many of them go looking for private detectives.
This was probably one of the reasons why Amuro dared to open a firm so close to the MPD.
Jangxia figured that with a billboard, those disillusioned folks coming out of the station would immediately see the "Amuro Detective Agency" sign… and maybe wander in.
…
A week later.
Amuro returned from a business trip and planned to go home first to sort out the intel he'd collected.
But as he passed the MPD, he noticed a small crowd on the sidewalk, craning their necks to look at something on a telephone pole.
Curious, Amuro looked up too.
And saw… a bizarre billboard.
Black and silver background. Excessively bold design. Huge, attention-grabbing letters:
AMURO DETECTIVE AGENCY
Amuro Toru: "…"
…What is this?
He was supposed to walk straight past.
But instead, he froze at the intersection for a few seconds, then turned around, slipped into the alley, and headed for the office.
He remembered clearly telling Jangxia that performance didn't matter for this agency.
The money he gave Jangxia was, on paper, the office's operational budget. But Amuro thought they both knew it was just a disguised subsidy for Jangxia.
But now it seemed…
That "knowing" might've been entirely one-sided?
Was Jangxia actually a bit too honest, missing all of Amuro's very obvious hints—and seriously using the funds to buy billboards and ad space??
Amuro walked into the office with a very complicated mood.
The moment he stepped in, he saw Jangxia sitting on the sofa, holding a bottle of Coke, clearly waiting for clients.
When he saw it was Amuro at the door, he even looked a little disappointed.
Amuro's heart got even heavier. "…What's up with that billboard at the intersection?"
Jangxia stood up and first brought Amuro a cold glass of water, checking off all the boxes of customer service.
Then he said, "I put it up a few days ago. The massage place next door went out of business, and their ad spot was going cheap. I asked around about the price and figured I'd make up the cost with the clients it brought in, so I bought it."
Amuro nodded slowly. "I see…"
And then ran out of things to say.
Mainly because he had no idea how to bring up the topic of "no need for advertising, feel free to just greedily pocket the organization's funds."
Still, it looked like this new apprentice really cared about the firm.
And on second thought, dedication was a virtue.
This… this was a good thing. A good thing…
Amuro quietly swallowed back the accusation of "embezzling public funds."
Also, in the end, it wasn't about the money. And now that the billboard was up, well… it was clearly working.
—Amuro noticed a stack of photos spread out on the desk.
He walked over and asked, "Did you take on a commission?"
…
This wasn't actually Jangxia's case. It belonged to the detective next door.
The case involved a murder.
The neighboring detective had reasoned through the case quite clearly—suspect's motive was obvious. But there was a big problem: no evidence.
Technically, it had nothing to do with Jangxia.
But that morning, when the detective and the suspect were leaving the police station together, Jangxia just happened to pass by.
He tilted his head slightly as he walked and spotted a very flat, paper-like soul stuck to the suspect's leg.
Jangxia stopped in his tracks.
—That type of soul is commonly called a Pai-leg Shikigami.
Not as strong as a ghost, but still useful. For instance, it can be used as raw material to reinforce some of Jangxia's… less-than-scientific puppets.
In short,
He wanted it.
So Jangxia borrowed the case files and photos from the neighbor detective.
The pai-leg shikigami might be weak, but it was stubborn.
If its killer wasn't punished, even if Jangxia tore it off, it would just break into a useless waste soul.
And Jangxia didn't like doing things that waste resources.
So he planned to try and find solid evidence, send the suspect to prison, and let the shikigami rest in peace.
That was Plan A.
If that failed, he had Plan B.
—Put a sack over the suspect's head and beat him until the shikigami came loose.
But right now, for some reason, fate had arranged it so Amuro was finally at the office for once.
And even before Jangxia said anything, Amuro had already noticed the photos laid out on the table.
…
Amuro was staring at the photos.
Jangxia was watching Amuro.
Reflected in his eyes were a few big, shining words—
Plan C.
Glossary
yin – Slang for underhanded or sneaky tactics. Often implies trickery or subtle sabotage.
pigeon boss – A boss who often disappears or flakes, like a pigeon flying off randomly.
Pai-leg Shikigami – A flat, paper-like spiritual entity. Less powerful than a ghost, but still supernatural. The name is a play on "papery" and "attached to the leg."