Chapter 2: Chief Investigator Yukio Sato
<p _msttexthash="22632383579" _msthash="384">After last night's introduction, Takumi was tired but satisfied. He lay down on a comfortable sofa in the Investigation Committee headquarters, where he was given a place to rest. Following a busy day, he was finally able to get a good night's sleep, falling into a peaceful slumber.
— Good morning, T-ak-u-mi! Haruki was standing right in front of the face of Takumi who had just woken up.
— D-d-good morning!" Yes... he replied in a hoarse voice.
— It's only 4 o'clock in the morning, why did you have to wake me up?
- The Committee of Investigations was given a serious case! All the members are on their way, and I was the first to arrive! Haruki said.
"I see. Now I'll get up and go to the gym.
Haruki answered from the hallway.
"Takumi! Get up!" Haruki shouted after a few seconds. there were creaks and footsteps.
— Wh-what! So fast? Takumi quickly jumped up from the couch and ran into the hall.
— Я здесь!
"Have a seat, colleagues," Yukio said.
— Tonight there was a mysterious bank robbery, about 400 thousand dollars were taken out, let me remind you, last night they also robbed the bank and took out the same amount of money from there-revealed the details of the case of Yukio.
"Yukio, use your magic and let's find out, hihi," Haruki suggested.
"That's not the case. A simple matter. Yukio replied.
This is the second robbery of the night, so there's going to be a robbery tonight, too. Ryouma said.
- Not a fact. Most likely, the first robbery they realized that the public thought that they stole a large amount of money and will not take more, the second they stole even more, the third time they will not rob, because today all the banks will be monitored by the police, I am sure. Yukio rejected Ryouma's theory.
— In that case, the only option left is to look for them, not wait for the third robbery." Haruki suggested.
"That's it! Haruki, if you were a bank robber, where would you hide? Yukio asked.
"Nowhere! Haruki replied slyly.
"Why I couldn't expect you to give me a different answer."
— Not one normal robber will not hide, unless of course there were shoals in the work, what do the cameras show? Haruki was pouring himself a glass of water.
"The cells are empty. I looked at them, there are no shoals. Yukio replied.
"Well, there's only one option left. Haruki said with a laugh.
MAGIC: CRITICAL THINKING!
The same sparks and strange particles started appearing in Yukio's glasses as when Haruki showed Takumi's magic.
"How simple it is! We missed a lot of details! Here we are, dumbasses! Ah-ah-ah! Yukio shouted.
"What's wrong with him?" Takumi asked Haruka.
"That's why our headquarters are underground. Haruka replied.
"Oh, my God! They are probably somewhere near the second bank, and last night they were near the first. Obviously! Yukio continued to shout.
— How do you know that?" Takumi asked.
— It is obvious that the criminals will monitor the progress of the investigation of their crime, because the police are constantly working there, most likely they are in a bookstore opposite the second bank.
— Well, then, we'll move out there, apprehend them, and hand them over to the police. Ryouma said.
- Wait, Ryouma, the role of the one who delays is always performed by me, I'm going there. Kazuto said roughly.
"As you wish." Ryouma humbled himself.
"I'll show these criminals who Daddy is." Kazuto walked out of the hall and slammed the door.
— Well, we've solved a crime! Haruki exclaimed happily.
"Aha! The other members of the Committee answered him as usual.
— Hooray!" Takumi shouted.
— What are you happy about?" Yukio asked Takumi.
"For solving crimes."
"These are our customs. We make five of these lungs every day. Yukio explained, and after that, a small blankness and sadness appeared in Takumi's eyes.
"Yukio, what was your childhood like?" At Takumi's question, Yukio's pupils dilated and his breathing became louder.
* High-rise apartment in Yukisaku*
— Yukio, stop sitting on the floor, I'm sick of it! Useless fool! You haven't cleaned in two hours! Come here!" Slap-slap!
"Ay-ay-ay! I'm sorry, Dad! I'm on my way out!" I promise! Don't do this to me! Ay-ay
— You don't hear at all, you despicable bastard! Do you want me dead?" Maybe I'll kill you one day! Now go get out, quickly!
— Y-y-yes! I'll get out! I'll definitely clean up, Daddy!
For long days I swam in a featureless ocean of longing. My life was filled with pain and loneliness, doomed to wander between the wreckage of loss. My mother left me right after I was born, running away from my father, who was already drowning in alcohol. Bottlesthat gave off a disgusting smell and were affected by rot littered our home. When I started school, the only thing my father bought me was a couple of notebooks, a pen, and a pencil. I didn't even dream of a briefcase, and I carried all my stuff in a regular bag. Fromthe very first days of high school, my classmates had been throwing themselves at me, bullying and harassing me like ruthless animals. I rushed forward, floundering in the madness, in the pain that had become commonplace. After finishing school, my father was taken to the hospital, where he died ofliver cirrhosis a few months later. My legacy, the apartment, has become an empty space, plunged into ruin. I survived on a scholarship, living in hunger, without water, without light, reveling in destruction. But one day, in the gray zone of my indifference, I met Masao Ito. Back then, he was just a regular cop, and I helped him solve a few crimes. It was then that my critical thinking discovered its magical essence. It was a central prick in my life's pulse. So the Committee of Inquiry was born. But even though I was pursuing my own revenge, filling the void inside me, the feeling of resentment and frustration still did not leave me. If it wasn't for what I did, I would have been doomed to madness. With my own hands Isought out every one of those who trampled on my soul. First, I set fire to my father's grave. Let him burn in hell, his place is there, among the rest of the damned souls. Then I found every scoffer in my school and stripped them of everything they had-their families, their future, even the right tolive. Maybe I didn't have the right to do this, but I don't regret my actions. Still. My life is bitten by the passion of revenge. I will not stop at killing already deceased enemies, setting fire to the graves and cemeteries where they rest. I take their bodies out of their coffins and continue to stab their souls. My pleasure knows no bounds!
<p _msttexthash="17470773528" _msthash="383">- "Pysch-pau" — the sound of a gunshot.
Everyone in this world faces difficulties, that's understandable, but when I got caught up in my difficulties, they turned into a nightmare. The darkness that enveloped me stayed with me forever. Even with the Investigative Committee in hand, I won't be able to completely get ridof this nightmare. All bad things should be left in the past, isn't it? When the Committee began to grow in power and influence, I felt euphoric and happy. It was the first time I'd felt this way in all my terrible years. Maybe I'm just a psychopath who just killed my abusers on those nights, setting fire to their graves and cemeteries. Maybe. All that remained in my life as a child is just one incident. A boy my age came up to me. His face reflected the appearance of how terrible my life was, saw how ruthlessly I lived, as if dressed from a pile of Trotskyist goods. In his stripped shoes, torn T-shirt and shorts, he offered me the hand of friendship. That was the most amazing sentence I've ever heard. Friendship... For me, she was on the edge of heaven. I thought that friendship only existed among good people, not among rejected monsters that smelled like garbage. When he reached out and turned my perception upside down, I felt a surge of relief. A strange feeling, like butterflies in my stomach, filled my entire being. Have I been approved by the society? Approved by another person? I wasn't as bad as I thought I was? I became his friend, and our friendship lasted for two years. We walked, laughed, and were looked at as if we were freaks, but we didn't care. We were happy together. But one day he came up to me and said,
" Hi! We're moving to another city in three days. Let's spend the last day together. I'm sorry, please!
The world collapsed before my eyes. Everything perfect is gone. At the age of eight, I was already thinking about a suicide plan. For two years, I lived like an ordinary, normal person, enjoying emotions and positive moments. But here I was again, plunged into lies,bullying, and humiliation. And it all started again. I was bullied, insulted and humiliated all the time. They even put dog poop under my door. My father started hitting and scolding me again, blaming my friends. He didn't listen to me, he just kept hitting me — with his hands, objects, a cord, ora seam. The pain was unbearable. Surrounded by horror and despair, I sank into the depths of passion. Madness took hold of me, and I went to my friend who at 6 years old gave me a helping hand, to the person who shared with me the joys and difficulties of childhood. But at that moment, I lost control of my actions, I wasn't withme. And then I realized that I had killed him — my only friend. Reality overwhelmed me. Everything I thought I knew about the world collapsed before my eyes. My life, filled with suffering and humiliation, knew no limits to its cruelty. Even in the most hopeless moments, she always finds a way to remind me that confusionand destruction are an immutable reality. Apparently this is my fate - only emptiness and destruction. The cruelty that shrouded my childhood like a curse was artfully etched into the pages of my life. My father, Yagami Sato, was evil incarnate in the flesh and soul at the same time. The author of my misery and an alcoholic absolute, he beat me relentlessly forevery damned day. Once, on that fateful day, his stupidity and rotten spirit shattered almost the last spark of my life. One day, a sharp burning sensation spread across my stomach, as if a hundred sharpened knife blades were gnawing at my flesh. The real horror, however, was that I had to come to school, and if I didn't, I would face another round of Dad's nasty beatings. Soon, at school, I felt a wave of nausea so intense that even the heavens were darkened with malicious joy. My saviour was a doctor at the school clinic, bustling around, sparing no effort to call an ambulance. The sound of rapidairlocks cut through the air like a blade, and in a moment I was on the operating table. As I folded myself into a pitiful cripple, I worshipped the brilliant hands of medical geniuses. Later, the doctors said that I could have died in a few hours if not for the operation, it was appendicitis. I had 2 weeks to go to the hospital, the only thing my father brought for all this time was a small baby juice for a couple of cents. Anyway, every person has a mom, mom is the person who takes care of you, she left me when I was 9 months old and because of whom? Because of a drunken drunk dad. I have tried many times to find my mother, but all without success, even my magic is useless. When I look at the discharge photo with me and see my mother's happy face, my eyes fill with tears. Why is it all my father's fault? But perhaps my mother is alive and living a wonderful life, not even suspecting that her son is looking for her, if she even remembers me. I don't know how I haven't killed myself, lost my mind, or lost the meaning of life, but it's probably not possible to lose the meaning of life when there are difficulties around you. Every great person learns the secret of true success: not to strive for it, but to open up to it. Where we open up to our destiny, success rushes to find us and make us the real heroes of its own story. Otherwise, I was constantly striving for success, but in the end success found me, the main thing is to choose the right path. Life is unfair no matter how painful it is to admit it, the main thing is to accept everything that is around us, to accept life as what is necessary. Just think about it, life is not just about walking, life is not about enjoying life, life is also about breathing, seeing everything around us, why our brain works so slowly and we can only perceive information and a philosophical position when we are adults. Yes, if we could explain how we feel to our loved ones in detail even in childhood, life would be much easier, but what is that is, you just have to accept and say goodbye to the rotten past, it always happens terribly and if you don't believe it, then life will show you that this is so.
<p _msttexthash="304382533" _msthash="382">"An amazing story, Yukio. Haruki patted him.
"Yes, you had a rough childhood," Takumi said sadly.
Ryouma snorted under his breath.
"I'm back, clap for me, I've caught them and already handed them over to the police," Kazuto shouted as he stepped out of the elevator.
"I shot one of them in the leg, broke the neck of another, and the third screamed in agony when I tore off his finger with my bare hands," Kazuto said with a laugh on his face as he poured himself some water.
"You're in your own repertoire, Kazuto," Haruki said.
- And then! I should have smashed one of them in the head, and the way the weak dogs whined.
— Ha-ha! Guys well, I'll go to the gym, wait for a new case - Takumi was afraid and ran into the hall.
Kazuto shouted after him.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone