Ichiro read the report while he picked at his lunch.

The view was stunning from his penthouse apartment. He enjoyed this time of day. The sunlight hit certain buildings quite nicely. However, he wasn’t really enjoying it as much as he usually did. He didn’t like having his perfect life disrupted. He looked up at Sebas, “This is making my head hurt. Can you explain it to me?”

Sebas nodded, “Yes. Currently Naora and Toshi are having a secret affair. They have been trying to keep it a secret and have, for the most part, but they have not succeeded in keeping it from the Terauchi spy sent to shadow her. I suspect the spy is from the conservative faction. Nor have they managed to keep it from that detective Toku that has been investigating him.” He cleared his throat, “And of course, us.” Ichiro nodded, “Go on.”

“I still have not figured out what the detective wants. For some reason he is obsessed about the shooting. I wonder if he thinks there is some sort of grand conspiracy between the Terauchi and Kimoto family. I can see why he would think that, and it would be the only logical reason he is focusing on Toshi so much.” Sebas paused for a moment, “It might have something to do with the over one billion yen investment fund Toshi is managing.” Ichiro put down his chopsticks, “So he is working with the Terauchi family.”

Sebas shook his head, “No sir. Or rather, if they are, damned if I can figure out how. There is no link between the Terauchi family and any of the investments Toshi has made. Furthermore, if they were working together, why wouldn’t the Terauchi invest in the same things? The more money you put in, the more you get out, and yet, it appears Toshi took his insurance payout, used it as seed money, and now everything he touches turns to gold.”

Ichiro picked up his chopsticks again and ate several bites before he continued, “Speculation?”

Sebas shifted on his feet slightly, “Only that it appears he is just a financial genius. If it is a scam, I cannot see how. Also, his computer security is… well… in the words of the woman we hired, ‘It’s almost as if he has an AI in his laptop fighting me.’ She apparently had no problem getting access to his home computer however, and…” He looked a bit uncomfortable.

Ichiro sighed, “Sebas…” His voice carried a soft undertone of implied violence.

Sebas reached into a pocket and pulled out a flash drive, “I know how obsessive you get about music, master. I hesitate to give you this-” Ichiro snatched the drive out of his manservant’s hand, “What is this? More of his horrid songs? Perhaps it is only a single word this time repeated forty eight times, as opposed to, ‘Who Rules The World, Boys’.” Sebas shook his head, “Actually they… well… you will need to listen for yourself.”

Ichiro sighed and handed the flash drive back to Sebas, “Queue it up.” He then pulled out his preferred bluetooth headset and placed it on. He disliked eating and listening to music. The sound of his own chewing ruined the experience. However, his nephew’s music was so horrific, so terrible, and such an utter insult to music, he was willing to make an exception.

As the first song started, it was obviously made with a computer. The music was all created with fake instruments that lacked no heart, no soul. The words were supplied by Toshi. He even recorded his own backup. The first words Ichiro heard were, ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’. Seventeen seconds in the drums started and he was enthralled. In five minutes the song ended, and Ichiro took off the headset with trembling fingers.

Sebas looked concerned, “Master?” Ichiro stood up and walked to the window, “It… was terrible. The pacing was off, the instruments were all synthesized, I could hear the auto tuner dominate his vocals…” He touched the glass and looked out over the city, “However, I could tell the majority of the flaws was the fault of the equipment. It sounded like he recorded his voice in his closet. While the recording was terrible, you could hear the right emotional tones trying to claw their way through all that cacophonic, background din.” He turned to Sebas, “It was a terrible recording of a beautiful song.” Sebas nodded and looked sad, “I… thought you might say that.” Ichrio squinted, “Why?” Sebas straightened up, “Because there are over two dozen songs on the flash drive.” He took a deep breath, knowing that the next sentence was going to only exasperate his master's obsessive nature.

“They are all like that.”