Danganronpa Kirigiri Volume 3 Chapter 1 Part4

The entrance door opened automatically.

The ground floor of the castle resembled a hotel lobby, and even had a reception desk where children wearing receptionist outfits were stationed. A soft carpet and sofa in a waiting area off to the side contributed to the cozy atmosphere.

I was surprised to see that a number of children in employee uniforms had formed a line between the entrance and the elevator, all in preparation for Ryuuzouji’s return.

“All together now…”

“Master Ryuuzouji, welcome home.”

The children bowed as a group. Their greetings weren’t in sync, which I thought made them look all the more adorable.

The queue of people continued through the lobby and ended at a door. Those waiting were likely the “lost lambs” who sought Ryuuzouji’s services, and the room beyond that door was probably where they would present their cases and vent their troubles.

Once we reached the elevator, the boy in the vest pressed the call b.u.t.ton. After a moment, the doors opened, and he helped reverse Ryuuzouji’s wheelchair into the elevator.

“You get in as well.”

I obeyed Ryuuzouji’s instructions.

Moments before the elevator doors shut, two boys in janitor outfits holding mops and buckets rushed in.

“Oh, Master Ryuuzouji. Welcome home.”
“Welcome home.”

The two kids said in unison.

The doors closed, and we began our ascent.

“Have you completed your cleaning duties?” Ryuuzouji asked the children.

“Yes. We made the windows and floors look sparkling new.”
“Sparkling new.”

“Very well.”

The children looked ecstatic to receive Ryuuzouji’s affirmation.

They rode with us for a little while, before getting off on the third floor. The elevator continued up further, until we reached the fifth floor.

The doors opened to reveal a red carpeted hallway that stretched out directly forward. The boy in the vest began carefully pushing Ryuuzouji’s wheelchair down the hall.

“You must be wondering what kind of show we are putting on for you,” Ryuuzouji mused. “Or perhaps, you are thinking you have stumbled into the lair of a cult. However, I a.s.sure you, this is my normal day-to-day life with no embellishments of any sort.”

All those people in line who revered Ryuuzouji and requested his a.s.sistance. All those trusting children who worked under his guidance. This was the daily life of a hero—one who has saved more people than anyone else.

Was this what he wanted to show me?

The world as seen from the chair of a successful detective. And the tranquil paradise he built.

At the end of the long hallway was a set of double doors, which automatically opened as we approached.

What lay beyond those doors stood in harsh contrast to the paradise outside—the lonely battlefield of a hero.

Towers of files and doc.u.ments piled high. Reference materials haphazardly scattered about. Photographs and scribbled notes pasted here and there. The room was about 600 square feet in size, but the mountains of books stacked all over the place and the oceans of jumbled bundles of paper strewn across the floor made the s.p.a.ce feel like a miniature nature diorama, or perhaps, a visual recreation of the world inside Ryuuzouji’s mind.

Once we entered the room, Ryuuzouji took control of his motorized wheelchair and maneuvered into a position by a corner of his desk.

The boy in the vest took a bow before stepping out of the room.

Ryuuzouji and I were all alone.

Following a painful cough, Ryuuzouji tossed a tablet into his mouth and washed it down with a gla.s.s of whiskey.

“I hire orphans to work for me here, all of whom are training to become detectives. When necessary, I send them off on investigations. They serve as my eyes and ears, as well as my arms and legs. Think of them as similar to Sherlock Holmes’s Baker Street Irregulars. There are always things you can learn from your predecessors.”

As Ryuuzouji explained the role of the children, he scanned through a couple of papers and jotted down a few notes, before shifting his attention to a completely different set of doc.u.ments. Even now, he was solving cases one after another.

“Do you force those kids to help carry out your crimes?” I asked.

Ryuuzouji flashed a wide grin before shaking his head. “Their work is solely as detectives.”

“So they aren’t aware of what you do behind the scenes,” I spat in disgust. “You’ve achieved the highest honor and standing as a detective, and even today, you continue to devote your efforts to solving cases. Why conspire with a criminal organization? I can’t wrap my head around it at all. How can someone like you call yourself a detective while simultaneously serving as an a.s.sociate of the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee without feeling conflicted?”

“I ask you, what possible reason would I have to feel such inner conflict?”

His unashamed tone struck me speechless.

“There is no difference between the ultimate goal of a detective and the Committee—salvation,” Ryuuzouji explained as he filed away doc.u.ments one after another. “Of course, the methods may not completely be sound; undoubtedly, there is blood on my hands. Nevertheless, it cannot be refuted that I have saved more people with these hands than anyone else on this earth. That is my pride, and that pride is what allows me to continue my work as a detective.”

“None of that justifies committing crime,” I said, venting my frustration. “That goes even more so for a detective! Someone like you should despise crime and constantly be fighting against those who break the law.”

“Fufufu… I suppose.” For a second, he stopped flipping through his files to glance at me. “However, do not misunderstand me. We do despise crime, and we are fighting against those who act unlawfully. Tell me. Compare yourself—someone who has only been spouting plat.i.tudes on the sidelines without engaging yourself in combat—to us seasoned veterans who have bathed in the rain of blood in the heart of the battlefield. Who can you claim to be truly fighting?”

“Erm… But…” I struggled to find the words to counter him. As someone with only a few years of experience dabbling in detective work, I had no chance of winning a debate against a detective whose ill.u.s.trious career spanned multiple decades.

“Working as a detective for many years… you find yourself in situations where adhering to ‘decent’ methods fail to save a single soul. Throughout my life, I have been one to strictly observe laws, ethics, virtually anything that can be deemed a set of rules, and I have judged myself by that standard. However, because of that, I have found myself frustrated on many an occasion. I have prayed to G.o.d countless times, wishing for the opportunity to save more and more people.”

A prayer befitting his status as an exceptional detective—

This world may have been too small to fully appreciate his genius.

“Is that why you joined the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee?”

“Yes, to put it simply. Duel Noirs at their core are held in accordance with a fair set of rules. I sensed a fair spiritual aura emanating from Mikado Shinsen. If he were simply a terrorist who lacked a moral code, I would never have a.s.sociated myself with him.”

“So involving completely innocent bystanders in revenge plots is fair to you?”

“Sacrifice is inevitable in seeking pure salvation—that is the conclusion I have reached.”

“N-No way… You’ve got that completely wrong!”

Compared to him, I was a total neophyte in terms of experience and expertise, but I was certain in my conviction. Condoning murder and failing to question its legitimacy irrevocably descended into the world of sin.

“You will never forgive us—that is what you believe.” Ryuuzouji slowly circled around the desk and approached me. “We are one and the same. I could never forgive evil either. That is why in order to defeat that evil, I vowed to obtain a weapon far stronger than it.”

“No… I’m not like you.”

“You merely have yet to make the commitment.”

“You’re wrong!”

Was he really wrong?

“I…”

I always wanted to be an ally of justice. I always wanted to save those in need of help. That was why I started walking down the path of a detective.

After reminding myself of that, I suddenly grew fearful of myself.

My image of the ideal detective was none other than Gekka Ryuuzouji himself.

“You have every reason to hesitate. That is precisely the part of you that I found myself fascinated with. You are exactly like who I was in the past.”

No… I’m not like him.

“You value the honor that derives from being a detective. I see that as the sole condition necessary to continue in this line of work.”

Before I realized it, Ryuuzouji had made his way right in front of me. His sharp, glimmering gaze pierced through my soul.

“Now, focus your ears. You should be able to hear them—the voices calling out to you…”

Sis…

…Yui.

Ah… I can hear a voice calling out to me for help.

It’s my little sister.

And Kyoko too.

What was I fighting for?

“I understand you,” Ryuuzouji said. “You are one of us. You are someone who is ready and willing to dirty your hands for those who seek salvation.”

What was the meaning of justice for a detective?

What did I even want to accomplish in the first place?

“Now, let the game continue,” Ryuuzouji said, interrupting my thoughts.

Taken aback by his remark, I snapped back to reality.

“Do you recall the rules?” he asked. “All you have to do is make a choice. However, this choice is not to be made lightly—no matter your decision, the result will have a resounding impact on your life.”

As I stood there in stunned silence, Ryuuzouji pulled out the two envelopes from his inner coat pocket.

One was black. The other was white.

“As soon as you take one of these envelopes into your hand, turn around and leave the room,” Ryuuzouji ordered, pointing at the closed set of doors through which we had entered. “At that moment, the new world you have chosen for yourself will manifest beyond those doors.”

White or black.

Which would be the path towards actually saving people?

I didn’t know.

Which choice should I make?

I had no clue.

The only thing that rang clear to me—

Was the sound of her voice.

Maybe that was where I should look to find the answer.

I shall venture forth—

I grabbed one of the envelopes from his hand.

—On the path I have chosen.

With a smug smile on his face, Ryuuzouji spun his wheelchair around, turning his back to me.

“It appears I have won this gamble,” he said. “I find your decision honorable.”

My body turned around and started walking towards the exit.

I opened the door and left the battlefield behind me.

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