"A Perfect Crime That Blows Your Mind!"
"The Wax City Murder Case – A Masterpiece of Parallel Weirdness and Deduction"
"A First-Rate Work by a First-Rate Detective"
— The Wax Figure Weeping —
"Popular Idol of the Mystery Fiction World – Hayashi Yoshiki"
"A Historic Release Day!"
Following the release of Hayashi Yoshiki's new work, both his name and that of Kindaichi filled the headlines across major mystery-related and entertainment news outlets.
Futaba Publishing had everything planned to perfection.
They capitalized on the initial momentum, ramping up marketing and promotions while inviting well-known mystery critics and experts to publicly endorse the novel. Even the atmosphere of the release-day book signing event was spun into publicity: Hayashi Yoshiki worked non-stop throughout the day. Despite being visibly exhausted by the end, the smile never left his face.
"Well, everyone lined up and supported me so earnestly… Even though it's tiring, that's no reason to be half-hearted."
"After all, everyone's working hard."
"If my new work manages to satisfy everyone, that would be best."
His humble and sincere remarks during an interview earned him yet another wave of adoration.
Of course, about 90% of the fans were female, drawn by his looks rather than a love of mysteries… but Hayashi Yoshiki didn't mind.
What he hadn't expected, however, was that his rising fame would also draw certain people out against him.
That morning, Hayashi Yoshiki discovered a letter in his office mailbox.
"Dear Mr. Hayashi Yoshiki,"
"You are cordially invited to attend a charity gala hosted by the Hongyan Advertising Company, scheduled for December 21st at 7:00 p.m., to raise funds for orphans of traffic accidents."
"Sincerely, Beniko Suo, President, Hongyan Advertising Company."
"We look forward to your attendance."
That was all the letter said.
Beniko Suo. The name stood out in Hayashi Yoshiki's memory.
Once a well-known singer—dubbed the "Oriental Canary"—she had transitioned into business and eventually became the president of an entertainment company. She never sang again.
But what stood out even more to Hayashi Yoshiki was the bizarre way she died—or was said to have died: allegedly killed by a cursed mask from her own collection. The method had been so outlandish it left a lasting impression on him.
He vaguely recalled that Su Fang Hongzi was someone who used the banner of charity as a front to embezzle donations.
Behind her benevolent persona lay a darker truth: in the past, she had caused a fatal hit-and-run accident, and then paid someone to take the blame, staging it to look like a suicide.
Hayashi Yoshiki turned on his computer to confirm: she had indeed been preparing the charity gala for over ten days. Just the night before, she had announced on her personal website that Hayashi Yoshiki had received an invitation.
"How very interesting…"
His fingers flew across the keyboard as he dug deeper, piecing together a clearer picture from memory and records.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
The number was unfamiliar.
"Hello, who's calling?"
"Good evening, Mr. Hayashi. This is Beniko Suo."
Hayashi Yoshiki's lips curled upward in amusement.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just wanted to confirm—did you receive the invitation letter I sent to your detective agency?"
"Yes, I just saw it."
"May I ask, then, if you'd be interested in attending our charity dinner?"
"Sorry. I'm not interested."
"...Ah?"
Beniko Suo sounded genuinely taken aback.
Her warm tone quickly turned sharper.
"May I ask why? Our charity gala has long received support from many public figures. The public pays a great deal of attention to it… If word gets out that someone like you, Mr. Hayashi, refused to attend, I'm sure many will feel it's quite a shame."
Her words were laced with veiled threats.
With Hayashi Yoshiki currently in the spotlight and enjoying a glowing reputation in the media, refusing to attend a charity event could easily be twisted as proof of arrogance or selfishness.
Moral coercion, while despicable, is undeniably effective.
And Beniko Suo was not burdened by morality.
She knew full well that Hayashi Yoshiki's appearance would bring immense publicity—and she had also set her sights on his lucrative earnings.
"As for the reason," Hayashi Yoshiki replied, "I'd prefer not to help you line your pockets."
"...What did you say?"
The stunned silence on the other end only made him smile.
"I said," he clarified calmly, "that some people exploit the kindness of others to benefit themselves. Society has people like that, Ms. Beniko Suo."
"Mr. Hayashi! What is the meaning of this? You must take responsibility for your words!"
Her voice suddenly turned icy.
"If you can't show solid evidence, we at Mahogany Promotions. will take legal action for defamation!"
"Empty threats only highlight your desperation, Ms. Beniko."
Still smiling, Hayashi Yoshiki hung up—after she barked:
"We'll see about that!"
What could she possibly "show him"?
As the president of an entertainment company, it wasn't hard to imagine the petty methods at her disposal. But unfortunately for her, her real name, photographs, and her secretary's identity were all publicly available online.
Compared to Hayashi Yoshiki, she was no more threatening than an ant.
"Truly amusing..."
Hayashi Yoshiki opened the Death Note resting in his drawer.
Over the years, he had periodically purged the names inside—leaving only a few for special reasons.
Among those were:
Kyosuke Fudo, the re-named psychologist,
and Akemi Miyano, who was undergoing recovery.
It had been a long time since Hayashi Yoshiki last saw Kyosuke for therapy, and Akemi Miyano had nearly made a full recovery. In the near future, Hayashi planned to begin hypnotizing and brainwashing her, possibly even persuading her to change her identity to avoid the fate that awaited her.
If it worked, everyone would be happy.If not… then so be it.
Meanwhile, Beniko Suo, whose name had just been written in the Death Note, sat clutching her office landline, a dark expression on her face.
She couldn't comprehend how Hayashi Yoshiki could so confidently accuse her of embezzlement—unless he had hard proof. No sane adult would dare say something so bold without evidence.
But she wasn't unprepared.
Years of hosting charity events had taught her to expect resistance. She immediately summoned her secretary, Inaba Kazuyo, and issued discreet instructions.
Still, even after giving orders, she looked visibly disturbed.
She hadn't secured her prize, and worse, now had a potential enemy.
Seeing Hayashi Yoshiki's name plastered all over the newspaper only deepened her irritation.