Within three minutes, the clerk returned with a printed A4 sheet, her tone more assured.
"The manager's terms: filtered purchase records are charged per entry. Basic info costs 1,000 points per transaction. Adding buyer names and timestamps bumps it to 3,000 points each. Your total is 30,000 points—and we'll report this to the student council for backup. Acceptable?"
They exchanged glances and nodded.
"I'll cover it."Shiina Hiyori pulled out her phone with practiced ease.
Shimizu didn't object—Ryūen's investigation funds were perfect for this.
A soft beep later, the clerk handed over the sheet. "Names and classes are listed."
Shiina's fingers lingered as she took it.
Shimizu scanned the ten entries:
Class D: 1
Class C: 2
Class B: 4
Class A: 3
Four names stood out:
"Hakase" (Dr.)—the laptop-toting otaku from Class D.
Ichihōse Honami (Class B).
Sakayanagi Arisu (Class A).
Ryūen Kakeru (Class C).
(For high schoolers, buying a laptop's uncommon. Switch covers gaming, and school PCs handle coursework. Ten buyers across four classes? Plausible.)
"...Thoughts, Shiina-san?"
"The culprit's likely here." She tapped the list. "Since all classes are involved... How about you handle Class D and B? I'll take A and C."
"You sure you can manage?"
"Don't underestimate me." Her voice firmed. "I know my classmates. And Class A only has three names—it's manageable."
"Deal." He tore off the D/B list, folding it neatly. "Keep me posted."
"This should wrap things up." Shiina clutched her half. "After we compare notes... you won't need to help me anymore."
Her tone was featherlight, as if apologizing for the inconvenience.
"...Right." Shimizu's gaze dropped to her hands—pale fingers tinged pink from gripping the paper.
(Once this ends, she'll fade back into the classroom's quiet corners.)
He pocketed his list, ensuring it wouldn't slip. "Let's move separately. Contact me if you find anything."
No need for warnings—they both knew the drill.
Interlude: The Camera Girl
As Shimizu exited, a familiar figure caught his eye—Sakura Airi.
Head bowed, bangs obscuring half her face, she glided toward the store like a ghost.
"Sakura-san?"
She jolted, lifting her gaze after a beat. "Sh-Shimizu-kun."
"Here for a camera?" He nodded at the digital camera cradled in her arms.
"Y-Yes. The focus is... off." Her grip tightened on the strap.
"I see." He stepped aside. "Won't keep you."
A whisper trailed him: "Bye."
Two steps later, curiosity prickled.
(Sakura-san has a photography hobby? The quietest girl in class... who'd have guessed?)
Then—a realization struck.
(Superman hides behind glasses. His day job? A camera-toting reporter.)
(It fits. Too well.)
(...Sakura-san's looking mighty suspicious now.)
The Otaku's Alibi
The Class D buyer turned out to be "Hakase" (Dr.)—real name Sotomura Hideo. A hardcore otaku whose backpack bulged with manga, eyes sparkling at programming jargon.
Their call flowed smoothly, veering into anime trivia. From seasonal trends to seiyuu lore, Hakase outclassed Shimizu effortlessly—even citing 20-year-old OVA staff lists and obscure storyboard details.
When Shimizu probed about the laptop:
"For eroge and coding. Plus..." A conspiratorial chuckle. "I sneak gameplay during breaks."
Plausible. Hakase's otaku cred made the purchase utterly mundane.
(One suspect cleared.)
(...Though I'm the real "surveillance renter.")