Morning visitors generally fall into three categories: a delivery, a neighborhood circular, or the sort that changes the course of your life.
The doorbell rang. After putting the rinsed rice in the rice cooker, I opened the front door.
Two men in business suits stood at the top of the exterior stairs. The older one opened a black ID card that looked much like a police badge. It bore the national crest and the words “Dungeon Agency.”
“I’m Makabe, from the Safety Statistics Division. You are Hiiragi Shinichi, correct?”
“...Yes. Um, let me say this first—”
After twenty years working behind the scenes, I could at least imagine why a government office might come calling. I bowed my head.
“If this is about the stream, I’ll stop it today if you tell me to. It’s true that I’m doing this without a license.”
The two men in suits looked at each other. For some reason, the younger one looked like he was about to cry.
“The opposite,” the investigator named Makabe said. “We came to ask you for a favor. May we come in?”
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