The Untold Origins of The Port Mafia

✗ Who the hell is Edgar? ✗

(A/N: This chapter is UNFINISHED!!!)

It takes Ranpo minutes to solve the mystery in each novel. Fukuzawa groans, trying to hide his disappointment.

'I'll just have to try and find something else. And here I thought Poe-san sounded so promising.'

Unbeknownst to Fukuzawa, Ranpo is disappointed too.

'That's a shame. I knew I'd solve it easily, but the writing is really good, and the characters and the setting seem so real! I want to finish these, but it's impossible now that I already know what will happen. It'll just be boring, and I hate being bored.'

Both Ranpo and Fukuzawa sigh.

"No matter, you still have police work. Why don't you go and play with Elise? I'll find someone to pass these on to, maybe Dazai-san will find them an interesting read. They certainly seem dark enough for him." Fukuzawa eyes the novels wearily as he speaks. He hadn't realised exactly how dark the author's work was until he'd skimmed it, but Ranpo read the first parts of each one with joy. Sometimes the boy's tolerance of violence and black and white sense of right and wrong scares him.

Once, Ranpo, still learning to navigate the large Port Mafia headquarters, walked into one of Ozaki-san's torture sessions, not a pretty sight by anyone's standard. Even Poe-san, the writer of these troubling tomes, would flinch at her methods.

The young women being tortured had abandoned the mafia and started up a rival gang using their intel to try and take over the city's trading routes. Their leadership was clumsy at best and in doing so they had nearly brought havoc into the already fragile port city. Some American trillionaire was trying to buy up the gem trading routes, and they approached the women for a deal. If they had succeeded then it would tell foreign organisations that they were free to take chunks out of the city and eventually it would become a mess of warring foreign gangs.

When Fukuzawa realised what Ranpo had seen he attempted to comfort him, to which Ranpo replied with a shrug, "Eh, they deserved it. They were going to bring disorder and chaos back to our city. Why shouldn't they be punished?" And with that he'd taken another sweet from his pocket, popped it in his mouth and walked off, showing no sign of distress.

In the present, Ranpo looks at the books, conflicted. He doesn't know why but he doesn't like the idea of them being given away. "Fukuzawa-san, wait."

The man turns, surprised, "Yes, Ranpo?"

"I'll keep the books." There is something almost defiant in the teenager's voice.

"You will?" Fukuzawa's eyebrows raise of their own accord.

Ranpo turns to look out the window, suddenly embarrassed, though he can't place why. "Ah, well, it would be disrespectful to Poe-san, who spent so much time and effort to write these if I didn't even finish them, no?"

Ranpo isn't sure if that's a lie or not. The statement is objectively true, maybe? But there's no way for Poe-san to ever find out whether he's read the books or not, and an author so great would surely care not for the opinions of one young kid. And Ranpo has never cared much for what people thought before.

Both Ranpo and Fukuzawa are conscious of this sudden change in attitude, but neither put their feelings into words.

"The books weren't expensive, and money is hardly an issue. I won't be offended if you don't like them." Fukuzawa says. He knows how much Ranpo cares about him, and hates for the boy to force himself to like the present.

Ranpo doesn't answer, too busy thinking. 'I can't finish these. What's the point of finishing them? But I can't seem to make myself give them up either. Why? . . . Ugh. But isn't it ruder to let them go to waste sitting on my shelf instead of giving them to someone who can properly enjoy them?'