Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner-Chapter 776 - 473: Office Workers

Minamoto Tamako felt very frustrated about this; she just wanted an apology.

In a democratic, just, and law-abiding country, this judgment would undoubtedly be correct, stand with the people, embody humanistic care, and oppose privilege—at the same time, the judge is professional, fair, and unquestionable, and a sound judicial system would minimize wrongful judgments.

But, unfortunately, this is Japan.

The judge was transferred that same day, the prosecutor in charge of the case resigned, and more than thirty newspapers published apologies and clarified the rumors on the same day.

Kikuchi Shiika cried as she apologized to Minamoto Tamako. No one knows what she went through; she just had a sudden realization and was full of remorse, bowing at ninety degrees, almost kneeling in apology.

All of this happened just because Kujo Yua took the time to make a call, telling a small group of people, ’Minamoto Tamako is my daughter.’

Yes, Japan actually does have a privileged class.

Generally, in reality, there wouldn’t be those scenarios where a rich heir is mistaken for a street thug. There’s only a small group of privileged people, and they all know each other, but Kujo Yua was the exception.

Her daughter didn’t attend any aristocratic girls’ school in Tokyo, nor did she attend any social gatherings with her, not even sharing the same surname—if Minamoto Tamako went out with a label on her chest saying "I am Kujo Yua’s daughter," she certainly wouldn’t have encountered such a troublesome affair.

In another ten or twenty years, Japan would turn from a mainstream shonen manga into a noble bloodline theory, where boys who travel to another world become strong not through effort but through bloodline... Even the legendary pirate king Luffy has become a high-class Nika, with a grandfather who is an admiral, a father who is a rebel leader, and even his uncle Kizaru is going easy on him.

In short, the rumors that troubled Minamoto Tamako for half a month broke so effortlessly.

Kujo Yua never called Minamoto Tamako, as if this matter didn’t even require a call in her eyes—not only was it boring, but also trivial.

Minamoto Tamako ended her suspension and returned to work, but she couldn’t feel happy.

Fushimi Roku wasn’t happy either; he wanted to rest a bit longer and enjoy a ’relaxed life’ without work... Of course, sometimes he felt bored, life seemed stagnant, but lying around was still better than working.

During lunch break, the two left the Police Department and ate lunchboxes at a convenience store.

The sunlight outside was dim; today was cloudy. The convenience store’s long table was fixed to the glass wall, and due to the narrow space, there were only a few very tall round stools next to it.

The glass reflected their images. Minamoto Tamako raised her head, holding a cup of noodles, suddenly feeling unfamiliar with her own appearance.

She wore a suit, her cowlick pressed down by hair wax, her eyes a bit tired—not due to lack of sleep but simply not having as much energy as before.

"I think..." Minamoto Tamako suddenly said, "What Mom did wasn’t right."

Fushimi Roku, sitting next to her, looked at her reflection in the glass, eating his lunchbox, and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Because..." Minamoto Tamako couldn’t quite articulate it; she lowered her head, absent-mindedly stirring her cup noodles with a fork: "Never mind, maybe I’m overthinking."

Fushimi Roku knew what she was thinking: "Do you feel that Chief Kujo shouldn’t use her privilege? That she shouldn’t use government power, public resources, and state influence to coerce public opinion and judicial operations? That the final outcome of this matter should have been Kikuchi Shiika voluntarily apologizing, the judicial institution handling it impartially, and the media admitting their errors spontaneously?"

Minamoto Tamako pouted: "A bit, yes."

She paused, not giving Fushimi Roku a chance to mock her: "But now I’m different from before, I also know these things are impossible..."

Fushimi Roku put down his chopsticks, reached out to smooth down the cowlick on Minamoto Tamako’s head.

Minamoto Tamako now had a new hairstyle, her hair combed back into a single ponytail, no bangs, and sprayed full of hair gel. Occasionally, strands of hair would fall at her temples, resembling a professional female office worker on TV, except for her short stature and cute appearance.

She impatiently slapped Fushimi Roku’s hand away, saying, "What are you doing!"

Fushimi Roku looked at her face, comparing her to the Minamoto Tamako in his memory, and said: "If it were before, you would definitely be clamoring ’criminals must be brought to justice’, ’law is justice’, ’even if the result is unsatisfactory, it’s still a fair judgment; my personal wishes don’t represent judicial fairness’..."

Fushimi Roku gestured up and down in front of her: "But now, you’ve become an old detective complaining at the back of a convenience store."

Minamoto Tamako was pricked by this sentence, her little heart aching a bit.

She turned her face away, put down her fork, and held her cup of noodles with both hands: "Didn’t you always say I was stupid before? Always called me ’baka’, saying I didn’t know this or that... Now I know everything, isn’t that good?"

After saying this, Minamoto Tamako let out a deep sigh: "Maybe people change over time, time flies by so quickly, and I’ve been working at the Police Department for two years now."

Fushimi Roku suddenly reached out his hands, holding Minamoto Tamako’s shoulders, forcing her to face him: "Remember the first gathering at Nakagawara Police Station?"

Minamoto Tamako was momentarily stunned: "I remember..."

Fushimi Roku said: "You were very frustrated back then, always feeling that you had no authority, so while listening to Watanabe Shun’s ramblings, you styled your hair into a pompadour."

Minamoto Tamako’s face suddenly flushed red: "How long ago was that! Why are you bringing it up now! Why are you suddenly talking about this?"