Uncle Hikigaya is Forever Young [74]

Ryōhei, bored out of his mind, hadn’t expected the top-tier police beauty to walk straight toward him.

Up close, she looked even more gallant—beauty with a dignified edge.

“Hikigaya Ryōhei.”

“Eh? Hikigaya?”

Before she could continue, an unfamiliar middle-aged voice sounded behind him.

He turned instinctively. It was the round-hatted inspector who’d taken charge earlier.

The man’s round face and big ears actually matched the round hat oddly well.

An acquaintance?

Oh no—he had absolutely no memory of him.

As Ryōhei hesitated, the steady-eyed officer stepped forward, face brightening, and clapped him hard on the left shoulder.

He nearly knocked him off the chair.

“Hikigaya, didn’t expect to run into you here! I heard about what happened… As a man, you’ve got to stay strong.”

With so many people around, he tactfully left it at that, his look full of senior-like concern and sympathy.

Ryōhei understood at once and shivered.

How depressing.

Really—what could he even say?

Good news doesn’t leave the house; bad news travels a thousand miles. Evidently, the original “Hikigaya Ryōhei” had become notorious in his old circle.

Well, it had been quite the scandal.

Given what the original owner of this body had gone through, it was no surprise the gossip spread. Even without embellishment, it was enough to turn heads.

Still, one thing was now clear: this policeman knew the original “Hikigaya Ryōhei.”

Otherwise he couldn’t have grasped the situation so well—compressing countless unspoken condolences into two words: stay strong.

Ha. How was he supposed to respond?

Smile. A polite smile would do, right?

With that scoundrel Mōri Kogorō on the scene, Inspector Megure Jūzō actually felt oddly calm despite having no clue after surveying the crime scene. Looked like tonight’s case wouldn’t drag on. He’d only been roped in to take a quick look anyway.

But after spotting an acquaintance he hadn’t seen in half a year, he couldn’t help asking a few extra questions.

Noticing the young man’s hesitation, he realized his own tactlessness and cursed himself—he shouldn’t have brought it up.

Ryōhei surely didn’t want that matter resurfacing.

“So, Ryōhei, what have you been up to lately? Found a new job yet? If not, the MPD’s been recruiting temporary staff. As long as you know a bit of computers, it’s fine. And with your big bro here…”

Inspector Megure waved the beautiful policewoman off to question other witnesses, then gently pulled Ryōhei aside and lowered his voice.

He wasn’t just making small talk. The MPD really was hiring for so-called security system maintenance. Fancy title, but it basically meant helping tech-challenged officers install Office, make PowerPoints, or set up antivirus software.

Pulled aside like that, Ryōhei felt a little dizzy. Hearing these sincere, friendly words from a man clearly seven or eight years his senior was unexpected—he’d assumed the original “him” and this officer were barely more than acquaintances.

Turns out this familiar policeman genuinely cared about “Hikigaya Ryōhei.”

What had their relationship been?

Now he was curious.

Lately he’d been trying to map the original “Hikigaya Ryōhei’s” social circle.

Humans are social animals; he couldn’t live the rest of his life cut off from everyone the original had known.

Besides, there were practical benefits. The main reason he’d easily landed a steady job at Sōbu High was the social capital the original had left behind.

Before, Miura Kōzō had helped. Now there was this policeman. The original “him” had suffered terribly, but he still had a few good friends, didn’t he?

Honestly, his former life had still held some hope—so why would he… Sigh.

Matters of the heart are unfathomable.

Anyway, Ryōhei just wanted a quiet, decent life now. In time, he’d find a wife again and settle down.

“Thank you for your concern. I’ve found a job at a high school, and things are going well enough,” Ryōhei replied sincerely—then realized a beat late that the wording was a bit awkward, especially since he still didn’t know the officer’s name.

Inspector Megure blinked, gave him a strange look, hesitated, and finally said, “Good. With your ability, even in today’s chaos, finding work shouldn’t be a problem. Alright, sit and rest. I need to get back to it.”

With that, he excused himself and returned to work.

As the commanding officer on-site, Inspector Megure didn’t have much hands-on work to do. At his age and rank, delegation mattered more than doing everything himself.

Evidence collection and legwork went to capable subordinates. He just had to stroll, observe, and take reports.

As for solving the case?

They had Mōri Kogorō—the free laborer.

Megure had been an inspector for years and long ago accepted the ceiling above him. He knew he’d likely never rise higher before retirement.

Compared to his younger self, his edge had dulled. Back then, he thought hard work and closing cases would earn him recognition.

Now, with Mōri handling the heavy lifting, even if people whispered he was incompetent, so what?

Ten years ago, if a private detective had meddled at his scene…

With his old temper, he might’ve arrested him along with the culprit.

...

An hour later, just as Megure had expected, Mōri solved the case yet again.

And, as always, that bastard did it while pretending to nap in a chair and grandstanding, forcing Megure into the supporting role at the key moment.

Ryōhei, a self-aware spectator, had zero interest in any of it and hated crowding in.

If not for the still-shaken Editor Machida, he would’ve left long ago.

The victim was a woman—clearly murdered, and for an absurd reason.

Her boyfriend, who’d been dining with her, killed her.

All because, a few days earlier, she’d casually commented on his weight: “You’re already so fat—are you really going to eat more meat?”

Thus tragedy struck. She died violently in a hotpot restaurant, the scene nearly staged as a suicide born of despair.

By the time customers were finally allowed to leave, another half hour had passed.

“Sigh… I never thought we’d run into something like this. Talk about unlucky. Sonoko, you…”

Outside the restaurant, Miura Fusako was wrapping up the day’s failed matchmaking. Halfway through, she deliberately shot Machida a meaningful look.

It said clearly: Say something.

Take the initiative already.

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This is a fan translation of 比企谷大叔永远年轻 by Stargazer All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!