The neon lights in the Night Patrol Unit area at the Kōtō Police Station cast a tired, pale white glow. The clatter of typewriters, the static from radios, and the thick smell of stale coffee were the constant atmosphere here at this hour.
Sergeant Yoshida, a middle-aged man with a face marked by lack of sleep, sat before a desk piled high with papers, his expression grim. He looked up as two young officers walked in, their uniforms slightly rumpled.
"Kenji, Sato," Sergeant Yoshida said, his voice hoarse. "How did the incident at Apartment Building X go?"
Officer Kenji, who had reported via radio earlier, sighed. "Report, Sergeant. We cordoned off the area, searched thoroughly... but found nothing."
Officer Sato, who was with him, nodded in confirmation, looking disappointed. "We searched everywhere within the 50-meter radius reported by the Item Monitoring System. The backyard, the side passage, the trash bins, even the entrance awning... No sign of the item."
Sergeant Yoshida rubbed his temple. "Again, huh..."
"Yes, Sergeant," Officer Kenji said, his voice full of helplessness. "The System clearly reported an item of type A, weapon category, 'dropped' at those coordinates. But when we arrived just minutes later, it was gone."
"Just like the times before," Sergeant Yoshida muttered, his gaze distant. "Small items, especially weapons, usually 'vanish' very quickly after 'dropping'. Perhaps someone detected it and took it before we could get there."
"We checked the building's entrances and exits, looked for suspicious people moving around the area at that time," Officer Sato added, reporting further. "Didn't spot anyone particularly suspicious. The security cameras around the building are quite old and the night image quality is poor, hard to make out faces clearly."
"Wonderful," Sergeant Yoshida said sarcastically. "So another gun has disappeared into the 'black market'. A G17, according to the System's initial report."
He leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. "This Item Monitoring System helps us know when and where items 'drop'. But it can't prevent others from picking them up before us. Especially in densely populated residential areas during the day, or deserted areas at night."
"Criminals are getting faster, Sergeant," Officer Kenji said. "They probably have their own network, or somehow even have 'watchers' monitoring the System."
"Or simply ordinary citizens find them, and instead of reporting to the police, they... keep them," Officer Sato added, his voice full of resignation. "A gun can fetch a lot of money on the item black market. In these difficult and chaotic times..."
"We understand," Sergeant Yoshida interrupted, placatingly. "But our job is to recover those dangerous things before they cause harm. Every gun that slips out is a potential threat to the citizens themselves."
He picked up the report file for this incident. "The Shibuya incident a few weeks ago is still fresh. That organization used 'Drop Items' to build a bomb. Now, weapons are 'dropping' constantly like this... the pressure on the Special Investigation Unit at the Department is also immense."
Sergeant Yoshida looked at the two young officers. Fatigue and helplessness were clear on their faces. Just like his own. This fight had no end. Every day there were 'Drop' incidents. Every day items vanished. Every day more weapons floated onto the streets.
"Alright, you did the best you could," Sergeant Yoshida said. "Complete the report, state clearly 'Item not recovered, likely picked up by someone else'. That's another statistic to send up to the Department."
"Understood, Sergeant," Kenji and Sato replied in unison.
"And now," Sergeant Yoshida looked at his watch. "It's nearly morning. Go get some rest. The afternoon shift has plenty of other work. Who knows where else something will 'drop'."
The two young officers bowed slightly, then trudged towards their desks to finish the procedures.
Sergeant Yoshida watched them. He knew, the story of this vanished G17 would be just one of hundreds, thousands of similar stories happening across Tokyo and the entire country every week. Items falling from "the sky", the chaos, and the constant, sometimes hopeless, efforts of the police force to keep society from completely collapsing.
Once again, they arrived at the scene too late. And once again, a dangerous item had slipped through.
He sighed, picking up the next file on his desk. The work continued.