Daisuke Jigen's Melancholy Bet: Seven Days Chasing Fujiko Mine - The Witch of the Antiquarian Bookshop and the Smiling Venomous Spider

The rainy night had passed, and Saturday in Carlione dawned clear and bright. The cobblestones of the old town still held a wet sheen, and the sunlight slanting into the alleyways glittered and sparkled. A wind off the sea carried the scent of salt, and somewhere, laundry flapped in the breeze. Daisuke Jigen walked with the brim of his Borsalino pulled low as always, a cigarette clamped between his lips. The memory of last night's rain still clung deep in his lungs, along with the cigarette smoke. The Löwenzahn crew had already caught his scent. Wolf's warning wasn't just a threat. They'd be coming to crush him for real. (*This has gotten troublesome.*) And yet, his feet carried him naturally toward the edge of the old town. Pietro Cavaliere's antiquarian bookshop—*Pagina Persa*. Meaning "the lost page" in Italian, the shop stood quietly tucked away in an alley one street back from the rows of tourist souvenir stores. An old stone building, its wooden sign swaying in the wind. A bell jingled. The moment he opened the door, the smell of books hit his nose. A sweet fragrance of old paper, ink, and dust. Bookshelves reaching to the ceiling stood arranged like a maze, and despite it being midday, the interior was dim. "Welcome, Jigen-danna." From the back of the counter, Pietro appeared without a sound. Fifty-three years old. His silver hair, slicked back as if to hide a receding hairline, gleamed with streaks of white. Fox-like brown eyes perpetually narrowed. The index and middle fingers of his right hand were stained yellow from turning too many book pages. His manner was gentle—the very picture of a middle-aged gentleman. To anyone's eyes, he looked like nothing more than a kindly bookshop owner. He wasn't. *This man is a venomous spider.* Thinking that, Jigen crushed his cigarette into an ashtray. "So. Is Fujiko here?" "She's waiting in the back. Please, come in. I'll put on some tea." Pietro's smile, as always, held a faint calculation. Affable, but his eyes never smiled. *I know exactly why you're here, and exactly what Fujiko is after.* That was the look in them. Jigen silently moved deeper into the shop. He passed through a narrow aisle, pushing through the maze of bookshelves. In the reading room at the back sat a worn-out sofa and a wooden table. Old maps from around the world covered the walls, and the light streaming through the window made fine dust motes float in the air. And there—she was. Fujiko Mine. She stood by the large window, gazing absently at the alley outside. Her back was slender. Her glossy black hair, reaching down to her waist, shone in the light from the window. An unguarded profile. A rare, defenseless figure, unaware that anyone was watching her. His chest gave a single, heavy thump. *I know this face of Fujiko's.* That lonely profile she wears when she thinks no one is looking. No bravado, no coquetry—just a fleeting moment of her true expression. In her teens, she'd been nearly killed by a mentor she trusted. Ever since, she's been a woman who can only protect herself by deceiving and using others. But he knew that loneliness. His left ring finger seemed to ache. An old bullet scar—a memento from a former partner's betrayal. And yet—*that's exactly why I can't leave her alone.* Fujiko slowly turned around. The moment she spotted him, a bewitching light kindled in her large brown eyes, and her lips curved into a slow arc. The lonely expression from moments before was already gone. "Jigen. I've missed you." A sweet voice. A voice that seduced, like a whisper in the ear. She approached him and tried to wrap her slender arms around his neck. Just as her fingertips were about to touch his shoulders, he stepped back. "Stop it. None of that." Fujiko pouted her lips just a little. "Oh, you're so cold." *Damn it.* He was angry at himself for being captivated, even for an instant. As if enjoying his reaction, she let out a soft laugh, then pointed at the documents spread across the table. "Well, never mind. Here's the main topic. Look at this." On the table lay a detailed map of the Carlione area and several photographs of individuals. Pietro brought the tea, setting a cup down before Jigen with a soft clink. The aroma of Earl Grey, steam rising, mingled with the scent of old paper. Fujiko pointed at a spot on the map. "There are two transport routes for the Moon Shadow's Tear. One is the sea route—from the harbor warehouse district, across the Mediterranean by ship. The other is here—the mountain route over the Grisaglia Pass." "The pass, huh." "Yes. Both routes will have at least six Löwenzahn members as escorts." Laying out the photographs one by one, Fujiko continued her explanation dispassionately. The sensuality in her voice was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating eyes of a professional criminal. Shrewd, yet possessing sharp analytical skills—*this* was her true face. Löwenzahn. German for "dandelion." Despite the cute name, they were the most feared freelance hitman collective in the European underworld. Six members. All from military or special forces backgrounds, each possessing a distinct killing technique. The leader was Wolf. A former German army sniper who never missed, no matter the conditions. His second-in-command, Karasu, was a knife expert. A giant named Savannah was a pro at hand-to-hand combat. Irma was a poison specialist who enjoyed making her targets suffer before they died. And then there were two more—twin brothers, Hans and Franz, who handled explosives. "We have no chance in a head-on fight. So we'll strike at the moment they're most vulnerable." With a serious gaze, Fujiko pointed at a spot on the Grisaglia Pass. "The tunnel. We stop the transport vehicle here. With your quick draw and my diversion—" That was when it happened. Something flickered deep in Fujiko's eyes. The afterimage of that lonely profile from before. For just an instant, heat entered her voice, and she looked straight at him. That expression— It looked almost like a girl confessing her true feelings for the very first time. *Thump.* His chest lurched again, hard. (*This is bad.*) Before he even realized it, Jigen had been captivated by Fujiko's profile. The movement of her black hair swaying each time she pointed at a document. Every word that spilled from her lips. The shadow of her long eyelashes. (*If I get any deeper involved with this woman—I won't get away with just a burn.*) To distract himself, he tried to put a cigarette in his mouth—and realized he already had one. He'd been unconsciously chewing on an unlit cigarette. *What an idiot I am.* "Hey, Fujiko." He noticed his own voice had become heavier than usual. "What is it?" "Why me, and not Lupin? For a job like this, he'd handle it before breakfast." Fujiko's movements stopped dead. Outside the window, the sound of a pigeon taking flight. From the distance, church bells rang. The air in the reading room pulled taut. She stayed silent for a while, staring out the window. "...Because you're the biggest fool." It was a small, almost spat-out voice. "Lupin is smart. So he won't do anything that doesn't benefit him. But you're different. You—" She cut her words short and bit her lip faintly. "You're the only one who, no matter what, won't betray me. That's what I thought." *"Won't betray."* In Fujiko's profile as she spoke those words, that loneliness flickered. A woman who wanted to trust someone more than anyone, yet couldn't trust more than anyone. A lonely light, like a child crying deep in her heart. (*This woman—*) Jigen's chest tightened sharply. (*She's afraid of being betrayed. So she deliberately chose me, knowing I won't betray her.*) Fujiko immediately reconstructed her usual smile. As if nothing had happened. "Of course, I'm also buying your skills, you know." There she went again, deflecting. But he already understood. The real reason was in those words just now. *Because you're the biggest fool.* Which meant—foolishly loyal to a fault, the kind who, once he's taken something on, won't betray you no matter how badly things go. That silence was broken by a strange sound from the back of the shop. *Click.* A small metallic noise. A faint vibration, as if echoing from beneath the floor. Unconsciously, Jigen's hand went to the magnum in his jacket. "...Where's Pietro?" "Huh? He was just here with the tea—" Fujiko glanced around. The shop owner was already gone. Only the teacup still steamed. They exchanged looks. Silencing his footsteps, Jigen moved toward the back of the shop. In the shadow of a bookshelf, beneath an old rug, he found a staircase leading underground, hidden. He hadn't heard that this shop had a basement. Fujiko didn't seem to know either. For the first time, a look of wariness appeared in her eyes. From below the stairs came a hushed voice. "...Yes, Wolf-san. Daisuke Jigen and Fujiko Mine are here in my shop. The plan seems to be the Grisaglia Pass." —*Knew it.* He'd half-expected Pietro's betrayal. Affable to everyone, but in the end, he only sided with whoever benefited him most. Even if he was an old friend of Fujiko's, he was a man who could turn even friendship into business. Right now, he stood on the side of *Verde Noir*. But if the situation changed, he might just switch back to their side again. He glanced at Fujiko's face. She was biting her lip, her fist clenched. She looked frustrated. It wasn't that she'd trusted him. It was just—she'd thought that *she*, at least, could use this man. The frustration of having that betrayed. "Let's let him run loose. He's still useful." Jigen whispered into Fujiko's ear. A faint scent of perfume rose from her black hair. Fujiko nodded silently. Her face was desperately suppressing anger. They quietly returned to the reading room and spread out the documents as if nothing had happened. A few minutes later, Pietro came back, smiling. "Ah, my apologies. I was searching for some materials." The eye movement when he lied. The faintly tense corners of his mouth. The face of an underworld informant who had just sold information to Löwenzahn in a single transmission. Jigen silently lit a cigarette. Fujiko had noticed too. But they'd let him run loose for now—to make the operation succeed, it was better to use his movements against him. The flame of his Zippo flared for an instant in the dim reading room, then vanished. Exhaling smoke, Jigen thought. (*So the traitor's been identified. The question is—when, and how, to outmaneuver him.*) They finished their brief meeting and decided to leave the shop. The operation to ambush the transport vehicle was set for next Wednesday. At the Grisaglia Pass tunnel. They had no intention of actually using the route Fujiko had deliberately leaked to Pietro. They would—come up with another method. That was when it happened. At the shop exit, Pietro called out to Jigen alone. "Danna, just one thing—" He brought his mouth close to Jigen's ear and lowered his voice. Breath that smelled of old paper and cigarettes brushed against him. "Lupin the Third has already entered Carlione as well." His fingertips twitched in response. "...What?" "Heh heh heh. It seems you weren't aware." Pietro narrowed his eyes, looking thoroughly amused. It was an expression that seemed to confirm something, seeing Jigen's agitation. Lupin. His longtime partner, the genius phantom thief. This time, he'd deliberately taken separate action—showing enigmatic behavior, as if testing Jigen, yet also as if trying to protect him somehow. He had a feeling that Lupin alone knew the full picture of this case. (*Why are you here—?*) Lupin was after the Moon Shadow's Tear. So naturally, he'd be here. But he hadn't expected to hear that name at this timing—and from Pietro, of all people. He couldn't read his partner's true intentions at all. (*Ally... or will he be an enemy this time?*) Jigen left the shop without a word.

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Episode 2

Name: Daisuke Jigen's Melancholy Bet: Seven Days Chasing Fujiko Mine
Author: Novelia

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