The Untold Origins of The Port Mafia

⚠ When Life Gives You Lemons . . . ⚠

He tries to go as quickly as he can while Ougai stands outside the shower, reading an online news article aloud.

"An 18-year-old boy called Motojirou Kajii blew up his school's cafeteria with lemon-shaped bombs. He was the only one completely unharmed, despite being in the exact centre of the blast. The authorities have him in custody, but he has no living family, so they're going to lock him up in a mental institution." Ougai summarises. "What a waste, don't you agree?"

"And this requires our attention because . . .?" Yukichi asks, as he steps out. "Can you-" Ougai hands him a towel before he finishes his sentence, continuing his own thoughts.

"Because, this happened yesterday afternoon, and since then I've looked into the boy. He's brilliant in maths and the sciences, with exam scores off the charts. Furthermore, this isn't the first time he's blown something up, he has a proclivity for pyrotechnics, particularly with lemon-shaped explosives. A mind like his has no place rotting in a mental asylum, we could use someone like him, so why not go and investigate for ourselves?"

"Fair." Yukichi concedes. "Do you know why he chooses to use lemon-shaped bombs?"

"No, but there must be a reason, that's why we're investigating. We can even bring Ranpo-kun along if you like."

"Yes, I'm sure he'll enjoy the change of pace."

-

Just before noon, the three arrive at the mental asylum. Mori dressed in more casual clothes, as a psychiatrist, Fukuzawa as his bodyguard (warranted given the dangerous patients in the facility), and Ranpo, as Tarou, the police investigator.

The guard at the counter asks for ID and when Mori shows his medical licence, he asks no more questions.

'I thought this place was high security?' Ranpo thinks.

But it has more to do with Mori's intimidating stare than the badge itself, though it is amazing how many doors that small slip of paper can open.

A guard in a grey uniform leads them down the corridor to a room, one of the low-security cells. It has a metal door, but with a window and there appears to be a small cot in the cell too, more furnished than the padded white rooms you see on television.

'The old guy's intimidating. He would never pass as a plainclothes officer with that serious expression on his face. And what's with the other one? He looks young for a policeman, like a kid. An academy trainee maybe? The doc looks legit but I swear I recognise him from somewhere.'

"He didn't put up much of a fight. The mind doctors say he's a pyromaniac, not interested in physical violence, and there's nothing he can use to start a fire in the cell, so you're okay to go inside. I'll be right outside the door. This kid's a whacky one, he just rambles on about how he's the ambassador for the "Grand Marshall of Outer Space" whoever that is?".

As they walk down the corridor Fukuzawa feels a tug inside of him, as if something is leading him forward.

When they enter the small room the boy is using a dry-erase marker to solve an equation on the wall. He turns, curiosity in his eyes, at their appearance.

"Hello, Motojirou-san. I am Mori Ougai. Have you heard of me?"

The boy puts down the marker. "Yup, sure have. What's an owner of a big company like Mori Corp doing here? Do you need a maths problem solved? How about, if I were to drop some of my bombs from the roof of your building and explode them, what would be the approximate velocity of each shard of shrapnel?"

"Hmm, an interesting inquiry. But, I'm more interested in your bombs than your maths."

"You mean my precious lemons?"