Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week

Shinjuku, Okubo, Yakui Barbecue.

Among the many signs with Chinese characters, this barbecue restaurant's sign alone carried a few hiragana characters. It made it clear to passersby that the owner of this establishment was Japanese.

Aozawa and Hojo Shouko entered the restaurant.

He slid open the wooden door, revealing a light-yellow interior from the floor to the walls and ceiling. The lights above looked like vintage lanterns. The seating arrangement resembled that of a bar, except screens were used to divide each table and chair. But they didn't completely block the view. They just shielded the lower half, with everything above the neck visible to others.

It wasn't peak dining time, so there was no need for guests to wait in line; there were open tables as soon as they entered.

The two settled down, and a server quickly approached with a smile. "May I ask what you'd like to order?"

"We'll have two sets of the Kannazuki combo," Hojo Shouko ordered naturally.

Before coming, she had asked Aozawa what he'd like to eat. His response was anything. When it came to food, as long as it wasn't too awful, Aozawa wasn't fussy. He wasn't picky.

The two combos were served quickly. Hojo Shouko sprinkled onions around the grill, then brushed on some sheep fat.

"Grilled like this, the aroma is stronger." She introduced her method like an expert and laid slices of lamb loin on the grill.

In no time, the vibrant red loin began to change color slightly, the surface showing sear marks from the flames, the scent of the meat mingling with that of the onions wafting towards them.

Aozawa originally thought he wasn't hungry, but the aroma made him suddenly realize he was. Snacks, after all, are no substitute for a proper meal. Or rather, snacks and meals are stored in different stomachs.

Aozawa picked up a piece of meat, dipped it into a sauce whose ingredients he couldn't guess, and then ate it. The tender texture of the loin and the flavor of the sauce provided a feast for the tastebuds.

"This is delicious."

"Yeah, the dipping sauce at this restaurant is especially good. I don't know how it's mixed; it must be a trade secret. If we could decipher it, maybe we could open our own barbecue restaurant," Hojo Shouko said, laying down more meat where there were gaps. She picked up a cooked piece, dipping it in sauce before putting it carefully into her small, cherry-like mouth.

Her rosy lips chewed gently, glistening with oil, looking even more appetizing than the meat. A hint of a satisfied smile appeared on her demure face.

It was the first time Aozawa had seen such an expression on her.

He stared for a while longer before Hojo Shouko asked with some surprise, "Aozawa-senpai, is there something on my face?"

Aozawa laughed. "No, it's just that you look very pretty when you eat."

Hojo Shouko responded seriously, "Aozawa-senpai, that kind of talk makes me feel a little threatened. You didn't invite me to dine with you with some ulterior motive, did you? Just so you know, I get drunk from a single glass, so I definitely won't touch alcohol."

"Aren't you underage?"

"Alcohol is the spirit of all things. My drunken dad said that, pouring me a drink, which made my whole head spin. Brother is different; the more he drinks, the more spirited he gets. Then, when Mom came back, she said, 'With that much energy, go inside and let's see.' The next day I saw Dad come out holding his waist, his face pale, looking like Mom had given him a good beating."

Hojo Shouko recounted her family's funny incident, a hint of a smile in her eyes. In her view, memories with her family were precious.

"Holding his waist... Your dad does sound quite injured. But, your mom's reaction is normal. Chitose's is definitely off, but I like that she indulges herself," Aozawa said, flipping the meat over.

As Hojo Shouko grew curious about Chitose and was about to ask, her gaze shifted to the entrance and she hurriedly said, "Aozawa-senpai, quick, look, there's a gorgeous woman at the door!"

"Are you my brother?" Aozawa complained. Such a ruse to get his attention for a beauty was something only a brother would do.

But he still turned his head toward the entrance immediately.

Women of varying allure entered, tall and short. One was a cold beauty with long black hair wearing a white lab coat. Another, petite like a doll, dressed in Goth style. There was also a tall, sultry woman with a ponytail. And even one to satisfy certain tastes: a muscular Barbie, whose powerful build and fierce expression spoke of formidable strength. Among them was also a tall, stocky man with a buzzcut.

"Over here."

A shout turned Aozawa's head toward the voice, only to see Okayama Buji sitting diagonally opposite them. Nearly the entire special task force was gathered there.

Aozawa was surprised. Didn't they usually eat at Hisamatsu Apartment? It seemed they were tired of eating at home.

"Wow, that black-haired woman has an amazing figure and keeps staring over here. Do you think she's taken a liking to you?"

Hojo Shouko's statement brought Aozawa back to his senses. "Shouko, where did you learn to talk like that?"

"Aozawa-senpai, are you not happy? It's strange; according to the internet, these are topics guys like to talk about the most."

Hojo Shouko replied truthfully. In her view, being treated to a meal was just like visiting someone's home—you absolutely must not be rude or allow for any awkward silence. The necessary topics had to be prepared in advance. She had searched online and found the key topics that boys love to talk about: beauty. According to most netizens, as long as the topic of beauty came up, it was like opening a Pandora's box, and then international conflicts would be discussed. For instance, the war between Russia and Ukraine. To understand those, Hojo Shouko had done her homework diligently. She couldn't let Aozawa spend money and end up in an extremely awkward situation. In matters of etiquette, Hojo Shouko had an extraordinary perseverance, forming a sharp contrast with Tetsuji.

"I'm not that superficial of a guy," Aozawa replied with full confidence.

"But she is really looking at you."

"Probably because I'm too handsome," Aozawa touched his cheek. His heart returned to calm after a brief moment of astonishment. There was nothing shameful between him and Hojo Shouko; it was just a simple invitation to dine. There would be no issue if they ran into Chitose.

"Don't always stare at others, it's very impolite. Eat some meat instead." Aozawa directed her gaze back to the barbecue.

Hojo Shouko noticed the meat was cooked and hurriedly took a slice from the grill, then placed a piece of lamb neck onto it and said, "I rarely see women that beautiful. Do you think they have boyfriends?"

"I don't know about the others, but one of them definitely does," Aozawa answered casually, placing his right hand on the table and activating his catalyst sensing ability.

His mental viewpoint rapidly rose, and a series of images emerged. Within a kilometer radius, every wooden table made from the same material was under his surveillance and monitoring. He wanted to see what kind of reaction Chitose would have.

"I can't stand these kids nowadays! Look at their age, they haven't even graduated yet, and they're already taking girls to barbecue restaurants for dates," Emily complained out loud.

She couldn't stand seeing these kids flaunting their romance in front of her. They should be focusing on their studies at that age, not wasting their youth on relationships that would likely end after graduation. Knowledge is the true treasure that lasts a lifetime. Of course, she wasn't jealous of those who could date in high school while she was still single long after graduation, having never been in a relationship. She was considering the children's future. Love and romances are nowhere near as interesting as solving cases. Emily didn't have the slightest curiosity about what love felt like; she just wanted to catch Dio.

Kitanotake scratched his head and said, "Don't look with prejudice; they could be siblings."

"Impossible, siblings wouldn't act like that," Emily shook her head. She was confident in her judgment; she could tell at a glance whether two people were siblings. The dynamics between siblings are entirely different from those between unrelated members of the opposite sex. There is no platonic friendship between men and women in this world, but there can be pure familial bonds.

"Morimoto, what do you think?" Emily looked up, only to find that Morimoto Chiyoda's eyes were fixed on the young couple.

"I think you have a point," Morimoto Chiyoda withdrew her gaze, her expression showing little change as her mind raced.

Was that girl with the black hair covering her ears Iroha? Aozawa has good taste; she seems like the gentle and obedient type. They just dated yesterday, and today he has invited her out again for a meal. It seems Aozawa likes this girl named Iroha a lot. From the past to the present, Aozawa had never treated her to a meal, not even once. It was always her food he ate, her things he used, and her clothes he wore. Why couldn't he use her money to treat her to a meal? A hint of sourness emerged in Morimoto Chiyoda's heart but then subsided to acceptance. Although she had always sternly told Aozawa not to engage in early romances, ever since Aozawa's absurd harem theory came up, the rule against it had been shattered. It existed in name only. Now, she would let him enjoy his moment of pride. When the time comes for an honest confrontation, he'll have his moment of tears.

"After they finish eating, they'll definitely go to a hotel room. High school students these days are so open, all because their parents didn't educate them properly, leading the kids astray," Emily continued to vent her feelings, then redirected her gaze and walked over to the table. "Okayama, did you order yet?"

"Yeah, we'll take one of each of the set meals," Okayama Buji replied.

"There aren't any bugs under the table, right?" Emily, being short, only had to bend down slightly to see under the table clearly.

Okayama Buji glanced toward the door and shrugged. "I don't think there are any bugs. They're already here."

Emily straightened up and turned to find two burly men entering the barbecue restaurant. Their eyes didn't rest on the waitstaff but surreptitiously glanced over at the special task force—clearly CIA agents sent to watch them. So unprofessional. Emily wanted to criticize; couldn't they send agents who wouldn't be so easily spotted?

"Makes me speechless. We report everything in due time. I don't get why they have to keep eyes on us like this. Are they afraid we'll hold back information?"

"It's not that. Although we're all working for the United States, the CIA and the Prime Minister represent different factions back in the States. It's normal for there to be competition between them," Okayama Buji said, seeming to understand the other party's behavior.