Gekka Ryuzoji

The car passed through a brick arch and continued down a boulevard of withered trees.

“From here onward is my private estate,” Ryuuzouji said, gazing at the scenery outside. “Can
you hear them? The voices calling out for a detective to save them.”

I looked out the window. Even though we were well beyond city limits, a surprising number of
people were strolling down the boulevard. Entire families, couples, and more. Children waved at
our window and playfully chased after our car, but unable to keep up, they fell farther and farther
behind until they eventually disappeared out of sight.

As we continued down the road, I saw more and more people. At some point, the crowd
transformed into a single orderly line.

What are they lining up for? I wondered.

The car reached the end of the boulevard and passed through another brick archway. We
emerged into a circular driveway with a fountain and rose garden, a beautiful sight that retained
its magnificence in spite of the somber wintry background. Our car drove deeper into the
property, tracing the line of people circling around the fountain.

Finally, Ryuuzouji’s headquarters came into view.

The building was no different from a castle. The walled perimeter was surrounded by a deep
moat, across which spanned an old-fashioned stone bridge that led to the front gate. Round
towers with windows spiraling upwards and battlements lining the top of the castle completed
the look of a medieval European fortress. I had lost all sense of reality since entering the estate.

The limo stopped in front of the marble entrance, and shortly afterwards, the boy in the vest
opened the rear door from the outside. I took his outstretched hand and got out of the vehicle.

The line that continued through the entrance suddenly collapsed, as everyone crowded around.
Old and young, men and women, people from all walks of life gathered together, staring at the
car with hopeful expressions on their faces.
After a brief moment, a ramp extended out from the limo, and Ryuuzouji descended it in his
motorized wheelchair. As soon as he came into view, excited voices from the crowd filled the
air.

“Mr. Ryuuzouji, welcome back!”

“Well done on another hard day’s work, Mr. Ryuuzouji!”

“Thank you for your help the other day!”
Everyone greeted him with upbeat cheers, treating him as a minor idol or a movie star who had
arrived on the scene. Ryuuzouji held up one hand, and without uttering a word, gestured for the
crowd to calm down.

The boy in the vest circled behind him and started pushing his wheelchair towards the building’s
entrance. I hurried after them, still recovering from a state of disbelief.

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.