On Sunday afternoon, Takashi, accompanied by his agent Ogitsu Yoshiko, rode in a Toyota HiAce van to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

Naturally, Takashi wasn't there to turn himself in—he was there to cosplay.

In Japanese anime, aside from high school students, the next most common characters are the perpetually late police officers.

Especially in Detective Conan, the Japanese police are basically there to clean up after the young detective.

In the eyes of most people, the Japanese police are seen as incompetent, living off taxpayers' money while doing little, often being called "tax thieves."

But in truth, Japanese police weren't always this incompetent. During the Showa era, they were extremely efficient.

Their effectiveness was world-renowned.

Even John Lindsay, a former mayor of New York City, exclaimed, "Japanese police can subdue criminals without using firearms—this is nothing short of a miracle."

Believe it or not, even Chinese officials once praised their efficiency.

Back then, not only detectives but also other branches of the police had a far better reputation than today.

The decline in their effectiveness began in the Heisei era.

In the 1980s, rising crime rates met with economic downturns and a wave of police scandals, causing law enforcement capabilities to plummet and the organization to deteriorate.

By 2001, Japan's criminal case volume reached an all-time high, but the clearance rate had dropped to 19.8%.

Scandals kept emerging, and every year, countless officers were disciplined.

From that point onward, Japanese police earned nicknames like "tax thieves" and "incompetents."

Still, to be fair, even if their overall clearance rate was abysmal, when it came to major crimes—especially homicides—they were still serious professionals, unlike their cartoonish portrayals.

"In a bit, when we get to the precinct, you don't need to do anything. Just put on the uniform and walk around the streets a bit,"

Ogitsu Yoshiko instructed from the car as a makeup artist worked on Takashi's face.

Takashi had recently become a major sensation from his appearance in Summer Armor, and the Tokyo police had sent an invitation to have him serve as a publicity ambassador.

Since he shot to fame, numerous public welfare campaigns had invited him.

Ogitsu Yoshiko usually declined most of them, since they don't offer much benefit for someone whose primary goal is profit.

But this visit to the Tokyo police was different.

The invitation came directly from the Superintendent General.

Refusing would be too disrespectful. Even if the official wouldn't take it personally, forging a relationship at that level could bring numerous hidden benefits.

Relationships are built and maintained by both parties, after all.

"So it's just for show, right?"

Takashi understood well—this was about promoting positivity and polishing his public image.

Humans are peculiar creatures.

A good person who does one wrong thing is criticized endlessly.

But a bad person who does one tiny good deed is showered with praise.

And Takashi wasn't evil—just a bit of a player.

Ogitsu Yoshiko was trying to tone down his romantic image and highlight his other strengths.

In her view, celebrities' romantic entanglements aren't even a problem—in fact, they can be selling points.

Takashi had dated many girls, yet not a single one had come forward to accuse him. Doesn't that say something?

"More or less," Ogitsu Yoshiko smiled.

"All done, Mr. Kitahara," the makeup artist suddenly said, admiring her handiwork.

Doing Takashi's makeup hadn't taken much effort. Most of the time had gone into styling his hair.

While other stars, especially female ones, needed layers of makeup to appear on camera, Takashi was naturally pale and had striking features.

Fair skin hides many flaws, and Takashi didn't have many to begin with—he was just naturally handsome.

That made the makeup artist's job easy.

Sometimes she wanted to drag him in front of the stars who gave her a hard time and say: "It's not that I suck at makeup—you're just plain ugly."

Some faces can't be saved by makeup.

"Thanks for your work."

Takashi looked in the mirror. He didn't see much difference, just slightly more defined features.

As for the makeup itself, he thought he could have done better himself.

Soon, the van reached the Tokyo Metropolitan Police building.

Because it was prearranged, the guards at the gate let them in after checking the license plate.

Still, one of the guards stared at the HiAce as it drove in, thinking it didn't look like a proper vehicle.

He couldn't shake the feeling that once the door opened, a bunch of armed thugs would jump out.

And he wasn't the only one with that feeling—Takashi also just realized he was entering the police HQ in what looked like a triad boss's mobile office.

"Maybe I should sweep a floor or two while I'm here," he thought with a smirk.

"What's so funny?" Ogitsu Yoshiko asked curiously.

"Nothing."

Takashi quickly suppressed his grin and straightened up.

As the car pulled into the lot, he saw rows of uniformed officers already standing at attention.

"Welcome, Inspector Kitahara, to Patrol Headquarters."

Looking at the lines of officers bowing slightly toward him, Takashi felt a thrill run up from his feet to his scalp.

Just one word: amazing.

If it weren't for the fact this was being live streamed, he would've shouted: "Shurima! Your emperor has returned!"

But in front of the cameras, Takashi kept his idol composure.

He fought to keep the corners of his mouth from lifting and stepped out of the vehicle with a serious face.

He had to look serious—otherwise he might burst out laughing.

"Comrades, thank—uh, cough, everyone hello."

He almost said something inappropriate and quickly corrected himself.

After a brief greeting, a female officer in uniform stepped forward and handed him some gear:

"Inspector Kitahara, here's your firearm and equipment. Please take care."

He didn't need to change into the uniform—it had already been custom-fitted and mailed to him earlier.

But the weapons hadn't been included.

Guns are strictly regulated in Japan.

Takashi's eyes were immediately drawn to the pistol.

Men really only have a few hobbies: either shooting guns or flying planes.

This was a classic SIG P230JP semi-automatic pistol, made in Germany.

Japan got licensing rights in the mid-1990s and distributed them widely. The "JP" marked its Japanese manufacture.

Takashi took the gun, checked the back, and sure enough, saw "JP" engraved there.

He smoothly ejected the magazine and saw it was loaded—with rubber bullets, not live ammo.

Rubber bullets are non-lethal, meant to warn, intimidate, or disable.

Takashi felt a bit disappointed but not surprised.

He was just there to be a mascot—of course they weren't going to give him a real gun with real bullets.

There's no such thing as a free lunch.

He holstered the pistol at his waist and moved on to the rest of the gear:

Handcuffs, whistle, a plastic sword-like baton, and a Panasonic walkie-talkie.

Takashi put them all in place, tipped his hat, and said, "Let's go."

They would eventually go into the police HQ, but not yet.

Earlier, Takashi had confirmed the day's schedule with Ogitsu Yoshiko.

He'd start with participating in a juvenile crime prevention event, then give a speech at an elementary school about traffic safety, followed by a foot patrol.

The Tokyo police had invited him to serve as honorary commissioner for the day to help promote public awareness and boost the police's image—part of their regular PR campaigns.

It's a common tradition. Most popular idols, singers, and actors have done it.

Even Back Street Girls depicted a similar scene.

Heck, even yakuza bosses have done it.

The second-generation leader of the Yamaguchi-gumi, Okada Kazuo, once served a day as chief at Kobe Police Station and even reviewed the Kansai police force.

Now it was his turn.

The only part Takashi didn't understand was this: he was told he'd be honorary commissioner, starting at a local precinct, but now he was somehow superintendent at the central HQ?

Confusing.

He sat down in the patrol car, lost in thought, wondering if they were treating him a little too grandly.

"Master Kitahara, please fasten your seatbelt."

He'd just gotten into the front passenger seat when a calm voice came from behind.

"Huh? Oh, right."

Takashi instinctively fastened his seatbelt, then suddenly realized something. He turned around.

Behind him sat a man with a stern face and a powerful build.

"Inspector Konoe!"

The female officer who had handed him the gun bowed slightly to the man.

When Takashi heard the surname Konoe, and looked at the man's uniform and demeanor, he immediately understood.

"One family."

When Superintendent Konoe saw the thoughtful expression on Takashi's face, he understood that Takashi had probably figured it out.

"It was Miss's arrangement," he said with a bitter smile.

Originally, it was enough to have Takashi just act as commissioner for a day.

Takashi had been quite satisfied with that, but Hitomi wasn't.

She had merely pulled a few strings within her network—and things turned out like this.

Actually, if someone unfamiliar with the context overheard, they might not notice anything strange.

Because in terms of address, everyone was just calling him "Superintendent."

Once again, Takashi realized the immense influence of his girlfriend's family.

Even within the Metropolitan Police Department, her people were embedded.

'I, Takashi, will always love Hitomi.'

Takashi quietly pulled out his phone, snapped a selfie, and captioned it: [Handsome?]

Just seconds later, Hitomi replied: [Handsome!]

Then she added: [Try it out. If you like it, I'll see what I can do to get the Superintendent General removed.]

Takashi: [You can really do that?]

Hitomi sent a cool emoji with sunglasses.

Then she followed up with: [It's pretty difficult—but not impossible.]

[Don't underestimate the power of a hundred-year-old noble family.]

So this is what it feels like to be a kept man?

Takashi suddenly wondered: do I even need to keep trying so hard?

The harder he worked, the more powerless he felt.

This system was worthless too.

If it were the Tomato System, two hundred chapters in and he'd already be strong enough to quit the group and conquer Earth.

Sigh…

Takashi had completely shifted from thinking "Being a kept man is just a way to become stronger" to "The purpose of life is to be a kept man!"

After he finished chatting with Superintendent Konoe, a reporter—having received permission from the female officer—followed them into the car.

During the boarding process, the reporter kept the camera fixed strictly on Takashi, not daring to pan it even slightly, afraid of accidentally capturing the major figure sitting beside them—and getting themselves deleted.

Once in the car, Superintendent Konoe remained silent.

The car drove on to the location, and Takashi arrived at the most crowded exit of the subway.

There was a temporary platform set up there for him to promote the "Juvenile Crime Prevention Campaign."

"Ahem."

Takashi stepped onto the stage and tested the microphone, preparing to start his speech—when suddenly he was tackled.

"Gege! I'm your fan! I really, really love you!"

Before Takashi could react, the girl puckered her lips and lunged in to kiss him.

"Get lost! Don't touch me!"

Faced with that rapidly approaching mouth, Takashi, terrified, instinctively elbowed the girl in the stomach.

Her body folded like the character "く" as she clutched her stomach, expression contorted in pain.

'Crap.'

Takashi realized he had gone too far.

He'd been too grossed out and accidentally used too much force.

"H-Hey… are you okay?"

Takashi showed some concern, but—

The girl suddenly grinned.

"Huuh… huuhee… heeheeheehee… That punch to the gut felt amazing…! I can probably get pregnant now, right?"

Takashi stared in horror at the girl who lay on the ground trembling with satisfaction, hands on her bare stomach, a blissful smile on her face.

He froze mid-reach, unsure whether to help her up.

'What the hell is wrong with her… terrifying.'

Even Takashi, who had seen a lot, was afraid.

Was she really a fan of his?

Did she have to be this unhinged?

A sasaeng fan—it had to be.

"Gege, come on, give me one too!"

"Gege, I'm your fan too!"

"Gege…"

Soon, the crowd was completely out of control.

Takashi watched in horror as several girls surged toward him. If it hadn't been for the police holding them back, they would've definitely rushed the stage.

'Screw promoting positive energy!'

Takashi cursed in his heart and bolted, abandoning the microphone entirely.

His instincts screamed that if he didn't run now, he never would.

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