Chapter 320: Chapter 318: Where is what Different World? It’s all Dio_1
On July 3rd, at 1:13:24 PM, Pavao was killed by Dio in Shinjuku, Kabukicho Ichi-chome, at Fujiwara Apartment 302.
After entering this data into the artificial intelligence God Detective, Dr. Ditch didn’t feel a trace of sorrow for Pavao’s death. Instead, he seemed quite excited.
As long as he continuously input the cases Dio committed into the God Detective, it could use these cases to search for similar incidents within its massive database, thereby finding traces related to Dio.
Contrary to the politicians’ belief, including Director Ponte’s, Dr. Ditch believed the so-called Different World and Griffith were very likely all caused by the same person.
He leaned more toward the early task force’s hypothesis. This theory posited that Dio would gain a new Superpower every week, and in that particular week, Dio’s Superpower was to construct a Different World.
Such a Superpower undoubtedly seemed too exaggerated.
But thinking about it, which one of Dio’s Superpowers wasn’t exaggerated beyond common sense?
As for Dio’s motive in deceiving everyone, Dr. Ditch guessed it was pleasure.
Although most crimes in this world are driven by various interests, a very small portion of people commit them purely for pleasure.
Pursuing pleasure was their motive.
Those tycoons and politicians couldn’t understand such people.
Dr. Ditch could understand. He and those who committed crimes for pleasure shared a common point—or rather, a similarity.
Those pleasure-seeking criminals would do anything to entertain themselves.
In his case, for the sake of American imperialism’s global dominance, he too would do anything, without pursuing money, material comforts, or other pleasures.
The only thing he cared about was probably fame.
A scholar’s fame is very important.
Whether this fame attracted good or bad intentions, he didn’t care, as long as he was famous.
This was why he wasn’t liked by the big capitalists, yet he still managed to receive awards multiple times on his own merit, without them rigging the results against him.
Because those people knew that while they could sling mud arbitrarily, if they genuinely tried to manipulate things behind the scenes and deny him awards he deserved, it would truly enrage him.
The capitalists wouldn’t do such a thing, as they might want to use him someday.
The gloomy sky gradually lightened, and the rain had lessened so much that people going out no longer needed umbrellas.
The task force’s car stopped by the roadside.
The rear car door opened, and the white-haired Dr. Ditch was the first to get out. He looked up at the six-story apartment building before him and swiftly walked toward the entrance.
Morimoto Chiyoda unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the passenger seat, her expression languid, unable to muster any enthusiasm.
Chasing Dio should have been an exciting affair.
But at this moment, Morimoto Chiyoda had lost her usual thrill, probably because the "little dynamo," always full of fighting spirit, had been transferred.
She had quite liked the "little dynamo’s" human touch and detested this fervent, pure tool of imperialism.
"Morimoto, get your spirits up," Okayama Buji reminded her from the side. He didn’t want to see Morimoto Chiyoda get kicked out of the task force due to her slack attitude.
Despite Director Ponte’s seemingly easy-going appearance, he was actually quite ruthless, a highly efficient capitalist machine in human form.
"Don’t be so tense. After all, Dio isn’t likely to still be here, and we probably won’t find much through investigation anyway," Morimoto Chiyoda shrugged, replying in a low voice as she entered the apartment with her long strides.
This was an old-style apartment building without an elevator; the crime scene was in 302.
Once inside the apartment, they stopped speaking, communicating only with glances to avoid Dr. Ditch hearing them from upstairs.
The old man had taken over Emily’s role and was now the de facto leader of the task force.
Dr. Ditch’s methods were very different from Emily’s, but they shared one thing: his intense drive when it came to Dio.
Despite his age, he walked faster than most young people today. He climbed to the third floor without even pausing to catch his breath.
At the door of 302 stood a panicking woman, dressed in a style that hinted at the nightlife profession.
Her black leather top and hip-hugging miniskirt, a whip coiled at her waist, black fishnet stockings, and thigh-high boots—she looked like she offered a very particular kind of special service.
"Hello, we’re from the Metropolitan Police Department. Ms. Soma, please tell us what happened," Dr. Ditch said, showing his identification.
Soma Yuko stared at the white-haired old man before her, a hint of astonishment on her face. She knew Japan’s aging population was a severe problem, but she hadn’t expected an elderly man to be handling such a bizarre murder case.
This country is really done for.
Soma Yuko thought to herself and began to recount her experience. She didn’t hide that she provided in-home massage services, which were legal under Japanese law.
As long as Soma Yuko wasn’t foolish enough to admit she intended for the client to "score," it wasn’t illegal.
Japanese law specifically states that as long as actual penetration doesn’t occur, it’s not considered prostitution.
"...As soon as I entered, he forcibly pushed me into a chair, stripped off my clothes, tied me up, and even wanted to live-stream it. At the critical moment, a blond man appeared, and then the tripod and phone suddenly shattered."
"That man crazily threw down his club—it was studded with iron nails—and lunged forward. Before he could touch the blond man, there was a BANG! A colored, diamond-shaped light flashed in mid-air, and the man’s hands were instantly mangled. A second later, I saw the blond man raise his hand and clench his fist, and that big, dark-skinned brute was crushed into... this."
Soma Yuko pointed to the bloody mass on the ground. Bones, viscera, and yellowish-white substances were all piled together in a mound of fleshy mud.
Morimoto Chiyoda observed the scene, the air thick with an unpleasant odor—a mix of blood and something foul.
She frowned. "A diamond-shaped, colored Light Shield?"
"Yes, you have to believe me! Everything I just told you is true! I have nothing to do with that man’s death!" Soma Yuko exclaimed, thinking Morimoto didn’t believe her. She grew agitated, loudly trying to disassociate herself from the incident.
She had wanted to call the police precisely to avoid getting entangled in such a bizarre murder case.
"Right! I remember he called himself Dio! Just like the name in those parody videos!"
Morimoto Chiyoda patted her shoulder. "Alright, calm down. We’ll investigate and clarify the details. Don’t leave Tokyo for now, and wait for our call. Regarding the case details, please don’t spread any information until the truth is uncovered. It could interfere with our investigation."
"Okay." Soma Yuko nodded quickly. She was aware that the incident was too outrageous; if word got out, people might think she was mentally ill.
"Okayama, escort her home."
"Understood."
Okayama Buji took Soma Yuko home.
Watching the two leave, Morimoto Chiyoda glanced at the liquid remnants on the chair, then shifted her gaze to the old man in the room. "Dr. Ditch, what’s our next step?"
Dr. Ditch withdrew his gaze from the clump of flesh and blood, saying calmly, "Enter the newly emerged Superpower into the God Detective system."
"Newly emerged? Haven’t you seen the report on the exploration of the Different World?"
"Of course I’ve seen it. But I don’t believe that Different World is a genuine, separate dimension. Messiahs, Satan... it’s all nonsense. I trust the early investigations of your task force."
"Anyone who has been to the Different World wouldn’t doubt its authenticity. The people, the air, the creatures—everything there feels so real."
Morimoto Chiyoda recounted her experiences in the Different World. Any doubts that arose in her mind were dispelled by how genuine her encounters there had been.
If that world is fake, then perhaps this reality is fake as well.
"Whether there’s one more or one fewer person with that kind of thinking makes no difference to me."
Dr. Ditch remained unpersuaded by Morimoto Chiyoda. He adamantly stuck to his beliefs, his expression steady. "Whether it’s real or not, we’ll know once the God Detective provides its results. If Dio is indeed an Angel Envoy, then he must have been active before. If Dio isn’t an Angel Envoy, but someone who suddenly awakened a Superpower, then according to your earlier hypothesis that he gains a new Ability each week, his first crime committed with that awakened Superpower will be his biggest vulnerability. As long as any crime he committed was recorded, the God Detective will definitely find similarities."
Pausing, Dr. Ditch took a breath and continued, "Then we can pinpoint the location of Dio’s first crime. After analyzing the timeline of these incidents, the God Detective will deduce his profession."
"Are you even denying that Dio aims to ascend to Paradise?"
Morimoto Chiyoda was somewhat surprised. The task force’s previous investigation plan had prioritized Dio’s ascension to Paradise. Both the capitalists and politicians believed that narrative.
Dr. Ditch scoffed. "I’ve never believed in Paradise. Those who do are merely seeking eternal happiness after death."
Dr. Ditch was a staunch atheist and materialist. He only believed in what demonstrably existed.
Anything that didn’t exist, or for which there was no evidence of its potential existence, he dismissed outright.
He accepted some of the information provided by the task force and rejected other parts.
"You don’t believe in Paradise either, do you?"
"Then you’re mistaken. I actually do believe Paradise exists."
"Is that so? What a shame. I thought a smart person like you wouldn’t believe in such nebulous things." Dr. Ditch glanced at her, then turned and walked towards the door. "There’s no need to rush. Time will tell who is right and who is wrong."
Morimoto Chiyoda followed him. Her expression remained unchanged, but her conviction had begun to waver.
"Should I write the report for Director Ponte?"
"No need. I’m not that lazy Russian. I’ll write the report." Dr. Ditch shook his head. He internally disagreed with Ponte’s plan but wouldn’t interfere; they would each do their own work.