United States: Los Angeles, Rodeo Drive
Yusaku Kudo ultimately couldn't stop his wife's departure back to Japan.
In his opinion, as Shinichi Kudo's parents, they were rational and highly competent individuals. Yukiko Kudo, however, was a person of incredibly strong will. She was once a top-tier star, leaving an indelible mark on Hollywood. Therefore, Yusaku couldn't control Yukiko even if he wanted to.
After all, his and Shinichi's living expenses primarily came from Yukiko's massive Hollywood savings. As a world-famous mystery novelist and detective, Yusaku never actually intended to make money by selling novels; it was just a hobby that got out of hand.
Furthermore, he doesn't easily accept cases from others. Sometimes even Shinichi would complain about his father's inaction regarding major crimes.
Rodeo Drive is quite bustling. After all, it's the preferred residence of Hollywood royalty and tech billionaires. Living here, Yusaku could easily bump into celebrities who only existed on movie screens for most people.
He lived in a tasteful, European-style house. The interior wasn't particularly extravagant or gaudy, but it was far better than an average family home. Yusaku's busy life consisted of writing mystery novels at his desk, indulging in his solitary enjoyment of complex puzzles, or showing his drafts to a few discerning friends in law enforcement.
This same comfortably retired person was now very interested in a particular commission he had received in the mail.
Signed: Hahn Cliff. According to the introductory letter, Hahn Cliff was a Baron.
This surprised Yusaku. After all, the American peerage system had been abolished for many years, only briefly existing during the colonial period under European rule.
Reading on, he understood. Cliff's ancestors had been granted a baronial title by Great Britain centuries ago. Even now, Great Britain's old aristocracy still technically recognized his title in certain archaic registers.
However, this modern "Baron" was now entirely down on his luck. He lacked the dignity and wealth expected of a nobleman, living at best like an ordinary, lower-middle-class American citizen.
However, Baron Hahn Cliff wasn't thinking of using his title for political or financial gain. Instead, he entrusted Yusaku with the task of finding his missing father, Hahn Rasford.
Rasford had been a devout believer—a fanatic member of the Illuminati.
But as a "devout" member, Rasford severely scorned the current iteration of the secret society.
"They've defiled the doctrine! I'll make those Hollywood bastards taste the iron fist of true faith one day!" After screaming this at his family ten years ago, Hahn Rasford ran away from home, claiming he was going into the wilderness to find the "True Illuminati."
Holding the envelope containing the request and a substantial upfront check, Yusaku was deeply intrigued. He was interested precisely because it involved the Illuminati.
Yusaku didn't know much about the historical Illuminati of the past, only that it was a fringe church that believed in Gods other than the Christian God. Its general doctrine, historically speaking, was to oppose feudal oppression and return humanity to nature. From the original doctrine alone, it was a peace-loving, environmentally conscious, and seemingly positive, albeit eccentric, church.
But the current Illuminati functioning in America… well. It was best not to speak of them openly.
Yusaku knew exactly what kind of people made up the modern Illuminati. All sorts of demons, predators, and monsters from the upper echelons of society were crammed into it. It was an open secret in Hollywood that a "sacrifice" was required to even qualify for entry. And not just anyone could perform a sacrifice. Only A-list superstars, politicians, and household names were barely qualified to even get a foothold in the outer circles.
Interesting… Yusaku thought, adjusting his glasses.
He wanted to go out for a walk anyway. As long as the request wasn't too troublesome and proved intellectually stimulating, earning some extra greenbacks wouldn't be bad.
After quickly packing his luggage, Yusaku drove up the coast to a small town outside the city. This so-called small town was essentially a traditional, decaying rural fishing village. The town bordered the sea, the air constantly carrying the heavy, fishy smell of the sea breeze.
After parking his rental car, Yusaku met the Baron—Hahn Cliff.
He was a typical, middle-aged, blue-collar white man with calloused hands. The two exchanged a simple but friendly greeting. From Cliff's words and tense body language, Yusaku could instantly sense the man's deep resentment and anger over his father's abandonment of the family ten years ago.
"That damned Illuminati!" Cliff cursed, spitting on the dirt road as they walked toward his property. "They made me lose my father, and then lose my mother! Now they want to take away my brothers and sisters!"
Yes. Since his father left home to chase ghosts, Cliff's mother had died of severe depression, leaving behind three siblings to rely entirely on each other. Cliff was the eldest brother, effectively raising his younger brother and sister.
If his younger siblings hadn't still been toddlers at the time, Cliff would have already gone out to find his father and given the old man a brutal beating. Now that his siblings were older and he had finally saved some money, it was time to track down his father and demand an explanation. Or at least, closure.
It's a little... tricky... Yusaku thought, assessing the situation.
Yusaku was interested in the puzzle, but practically speaking, this request was truly difficult to handle. An old fanatic who had been completely off the grid for ten years? Finding him was like finding a needle in a haystack.
And anyone who understood the reality of the US knew the grim truth. Citizens without homes or registered identities quickly became nothing but homeless drifters. And the status of the homeless in the US was even lower than that of stray dogs. At least dogs had animal protection societies to care for them. Homeless people on the fringe might get their organs harvested by cartels, beaten by gangs, or simply freeze to death under a bridge. Maybe, with "good luck," they'd just overdose on cheap drugs and die peacefully.
Touching his nose, Yusaku didn't hold out much hope that Cliff would find his father alive. In the US underbelly, homeless drifters had a notorious, miserable reputation. Their survival rate was dismal.
Cliff fell silent as Yusaku offered this tactful, realistic advice, despite his previous annoyed rambling.
"I know Mr. Kudo is right," Cliff sighed heavily. "But I need to see him, alive or dead. My ten-year obsession needs an explanation. I need a body to bury, or a face to punch."
Yusaku understood. Since his employer was resolute and had paid well, Yusaku wouldn't turn down the challenge.
Cliff led the detective to a detached, rotting wooden cottage on the edge of the property. This had been the private residence and study of his father, Rasford.
Looking at the sky, it was a fairly bright, sunny Californian afternoon.
'I'll solve the puzzle as soon as possible, and go home to my quiet study...' Yusaku thought.
With a loud creak, Cliff forced the swollen wooden door open.
An old-fashioned, rusted oil lamp stood on a table in the center of the dimly lit house. Inside, the bizarre atmosphere of the room immediately surprised Yusaku.
On the peeling wooden walls, there were massive, frantic charcoal drawings of the sea, dense forests, erupting volcanoes, and an anatomically correct human heart. On the roof and floor, intricate, geometric patterns resembling twisting campfires had been burned directly into the wood.
Cliff angrily cursed his old father's madness again, then reached into a hidden floorboard and handed Yusaku a thick, heavy book containing his father's handwritten notes.
At first, Yusaku maintained his polite, professional smile. But the exact moment he took the book into his hands, his expression changed dramatically.
This is…
He glanced at the seemingly unaware Cliff without leaving a trace of suspicion on his face. He then carefully examined the yellowed, perfectly preserved book cover. It resembled some kind of high-quality, un-tanned leather. But the texture was too fine.
Trouble… Yusaku's eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
If his decades of forensic experience weren't mistaken, this thing was clearly made of human skin.
'Human skin?'
Squinting, Yusaku felt a massive surge of curiosity about Cliff's father, whom he had never met. A father who abruptly left home, a seemingly oblivious blue-collar son, an occult diary bound in human skin, and the fanatic Illuminati connected to ancient religions…
Interesting. Yusaku smiled a genuine, thrilled smile.
It had been a very long time since he'd encountered such a bizarre, macabre, and genuinely strange request. Feeling a familiar thrill of participation, Yusaku eagerly opened the human-skin cover and turned to the first page of the cursed diary…
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