Tokyo: From Lawless Madpolice to Minister

The crowd outside the villa was growing larger and larger.

Half an hour later, there were nearly a hundred people.

"Hello, sir, may I ask what you are here for?" A reporter on the scene randomly interviewed a young man with yellow hair, wearing a black long-sleeve, smoking.

The yellow-haired young man glanced at the camera and replied without hesitation, "Of course, we're here to protect Mr. Ozawa! He is a good official wholeheartedly dedicated to the country and the people! We will never allow him to be persecuted!"

"That's right! Anyone who dares to touch Mr. Ozawa tonight will have to step over our bodies first!"

"We will always support Mr. Ozawa Ichiro!"

The others echoed, after all, they had received brief training on their way here.

Saying the wrong thing could result in a pay deduction.

"Alright, thank you, sir." The female reporter interviewing the yellow-haired youth turned to face the camera and spoke clearly and fluently, "As you can see, behind me, hundreds of people have already gathered here voluntarily to support and protect Mr. Ozawa Ichiro. Clearly, Mr. Ozawa holds great prestige among the public..."

"Woo~ woo~ woo!" Just then, a piercing siren noise caught everyone's attention.

The crowd looked towards the sound to see flashing red and blue police lights, with over a dozen various police vehicles roaring in with sirens blaring. Once they were parked, heavily equipped riot police holding riot shields jumped out and lined up in formation with uniform steps and a formidable presence.

Eguchi Nobumasa, who was in charge of executing the arrest, shouted loudly, "Listen up, people in front, we are here to arrest the suspect, Ozawa Ichiro. Please leave immediately and make way, do not obstruct us from performing our duties."

Seeing so many police officers, the crowd of hired performers also felt the pressure, but thinking of the generous reward, they forced themselves to stand firm.

"Everyone, don't be afraid! There are reporters present, the police won't dare do anything." A clever person shouted.

Upon hearing this, the others' morale rose sharply.

Indeed, with reporters present, would the police dare do anything to them? The advantage was on their side!

Understanding this, the crowd, which had been silent moments before, each took the initiative to confront the police.

"Dream on! As long as we're here, you won't take Mr. Ozawa! If you dare, just try to knock us down!"

"That's right! As long as we're here, you won't take a step forward or harm Mr. Ozawa!"

Eguchi Nobumasa watched this scene coldly, then waved his hand decisively, "Immediately disperse everyone by force!"

"Yes!" the commander of the riot police responded, then ordered, "Riot squad, move out!"

"Yes!" all the riot police replied, their voices like thunder. They then pulled down their transparent visors, holding riot shields in one hand and batons in the other, charging towards the crowd in front.

"Ah! What are you... what are you doing!"

"Ah! They're hitting people! The police are hitting people!"

The sudden change caught all the high-paid performers off guard. Before they could react, they were knocked to the ground by shields, and as they attempted to get up, heavy police batons rained down on them.

The police, like ravenous wolves, beat everyone they saw, each blow landing firmly, until the people were left with bloody heads, lying on the ground, not daring to get up before moving on to the next person to beat.

The scene outside the villa instantly descended into chaos.

"Such arrogance! Reckless!" Ozawa Ichiro, watching from the third floor of the villa, fumed, his face turning ashen with anger, his whole body trembling, not expecting the police to actually dare use force to expel these people.

After taking several deep breaths to calm down, he thought, well, in this way, even if he was arrested tonight, public opinion would rescue him.

As he watched the police viciously chase and beat people, the reporters on the scene were stunned. Were the police really going to just ignore them?

Oh, they didn't ignore them.

They were soon surrounded by a group of police officers.

"You... what are you doing? We're journalists, we have the right to interview! Don't mess around!"

Seeing the unfriendly look and the police splattered with blood, a group of journalists instinctively huddled together for warmth, each more wary, their faces pale.

"Hand over the storage cards of your cameras, video recorders, and voice recorders." A police officer wiped the blood off his face with his hand, speaking in a cold and firm tone.

A young journalist, furious, held onto his video camera tightly and said, "You... you are depriving us of our rights to interview, depriving the public of their right to know! What you're doing is illegal!"

"Yes! You're breaking the law! I will expose all your ugly faces to the public!"

"It seems Mr. Ozawa was right; this is indeed political persecution against them! How can you, as law enforcement officers, aid wrongdoing?"

In the face of the journalists' questioning and accusations, the surrounding police officers showed no emotional fluctuation. Without wasting words, they swung their batons to seize by force.

"Bastards! Give it here!"

"Give it back! Ah! Don't hit! Don't hit me!"

"These bastards!" Ozawa Ichiro, on the third-floor balcony, watched this scene, and the anger he had just suppressed surged again, not expecting he had underestimated the police's brazen arrogance. No wonder they dared to use violence without hesitation; they had already prepared to forcibly destroy the evidence in the journalists' hands.

He felt furious, desperate, and powerless, knowing these police dared do such things now. If Yanchuan Shilang indeed achieved his dictatorial aims, wouldn't these police thoroughly become tools for suppressing the people in the future?

The wealthy businessman finally saw clearly that these police officers were determined to arrest Ozawa Ichiro, and asked anxiously, "Mr. Ozawa, what do we do? They're about to rush in! What do we do?"

"Don't worry, they want to arrest me, it has nothing to do with you." Ozawa Ichiro was already ashen-hearted.

Having witnessed the unchecked behavior of these police, he realized Yanchuan Shilang's determination to eliminate them, thus extinguishing all hope in his heart, knowing that they were all doomed.

To be accurate, they lost from the beginning.

They didn't have Yanchuan Shilang's audacity and ruthlessness.

Nor did they have his power as the Prime Minister.

"They're in!" the wealthy businessman shouted in terror.

"Thump, thump, thump!"

The urgent footsteps sounded like the Soul Summoning Bell.

The wealthy businessman, drenched in sweat, shouted, "Mr. Ozawa!"

Ozawa Ichiro stood expressionless in place.

Eguchi Nobumasa led four or five police officers who rushed onto the third-floor balcony, looked at Ozawa Ichiro, and flashed a grim smile before waving his hand, "Take them all away."

"Yes!" The people behind him immediately rushed forward.

Ozawa Ichiro put up no resistance throughout, allowing the police to control him and put handcuffs on him.

"Let go of me! It's nothing to do with me! It's nothing to do with me!" The wealthy businessman, drenched in cold sweat, desperately defended himself.

Ozawa Ichiro glanced at him and said to Eguchi Nobumasa, "He has nothing to do with this, let him go."

"Yes, yes, yes." The wealthy businessman nodded repeatedly.

"It's not up to you to say whether it has nothing to do with the Director Aoyama's orders." Eguchi Nobumasa shook his head indifferently and urged, "Take them away, take them away."

The wealthy businessman cried like a bereaved dog and was dragged away like a hollow shell by two police officers.

Ozawa Ichiro, however, remained calm, walking with composure, his head held high, not looking like a criminal at all.