I Was Kidnapped by a Book and Ended Up Saving the World - Chapter 5

Mizutani Hikaru didn’t feel a strong sense of belonging to the organization, treating it more with the mindset of a drifting salaryman who just does his job. By the time all the work was finally wrapped up—cleanly, even—it was already dawn.

He shook his head a little. Even though his other body was resting, he himself still felt somewhat tired. The fatigue didn’t come from his mind, but from his body.

Hikaru had more or less figured it out—when his other body rested, it could restore a bit of his mental state, but it couldn’t influence his original body.

After consolidating the documents on his computer and sending them to Chūya Nakahara, he shut the machine down. Outside, a thin drizzle had begun to fall, so light it barely made a sound. When he stepped out the door, the damp scent of rain washed over him.

He opened a black umbrella and slowed his pace, walking leisurely in the rain.

He actually liked rainy days. Not just because rain could hide most traces, but because he genuinely liked it—the earthy, damp smell, the chill in the air, and the cold sensation of raindrops striking his skin.

After a few steps, a red-haired man in a black raincoat appeared before him. The man held a broom and seemed deeply focused on sweeping.

Why did it feel like he ran into him everywhere? Hikaru paused, his expression subtle. Oda Sakunosuke was still diligently sweeping, the dim mist of rain blurring the two of them together.

Hikaru’s gaze shifted, finally landing on the frayed hem of Oda’s clothes. Even as a low-level subordinate, the mafia’s pay should’ve been better than that of a regular worker—so why was this man still so ragged?

…Then it clicked. He was raising six kids now, with the youngest still on formula. No wonder his life was so tight.

Hikaru rubbed the cold handle of his umbrella. Should he say hello now? It felt odd, and besides, he didn’t really have a good reason.

“Go to Hatta’s Sweet Shop and bring me two strawberry puddings.” Hikaru lifted his umbrella slightly, his face calm.

Oda looked up. Beneath the black umbrella was a half-hidden, expressionless face. The angle of the umbrella was just so, revealing the two moles under Hikaru’s eye. Somehow, it looked strangely amusing.

It wasn’t unusual for him to order idle subordinates to fetch desserts. He usually paid them double, the extra as a runner’s fee. The shop wasn’t far, and most people were glad to earn a little more.

“My section of the ground isn’t finished yet,” Oda glanced at the half-swept street.

“Forget the ground.” Hikaru raised his umbrella, watching the man through the curtain of rain. In moments like this, his aura was pulled back so tightly he looked completely ordinary.

He pulled a bill from his wallet and handed it over, speaking almost casually: “Keep the rest as your runner’s fee.”

Hikaru glanced at the gray sky. The damp scent in the air was already thinning—the rain wouldn’t last long.

“After you buy it, leave it downstairs. I’ll pick it up when I get back.” He tilted his chin toward the building he had just exited, signaling Oda to deliver it there.

When Oda nodded, Hikaru closed his umbrella and left.

His two identities couldn’t be tied together too closely, or it would cause serious trouble. Although Mori Ōgai hadn’t been in power long, Hikaru had already figured out his style.

He didn’t want to stir up any more waves in his otherwise ordinary life. So the money he had promised Oda would have to wait a while—until he could move it through Tokyo in such a way that no one could trace it back to him.