Bungo Stray Dogs, Vol. 1 by Kafka Asagiri & Sango Harukawa

Author:Kafka Asagiri & Sango Harukawa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yen On
Published: 2019-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

And that’s how our undercover mission at the embassy began. The plan Dazai came up with is simple: One of us makes a scene at the embassy, and if we’re lucky, one of the higher-ups will come over to bring things under control. Then we can talk with that high government official to negotiate. For a secret agent abroad, their home country’s embassy is not only a base but a place of peace and comfort as well. The embassy must have some sort of connection with their country’s secret agents.

While it’s a reckless, aggressive plan, Dazai’s idea sheds a glimmer of hope on a seemingly desperate mission. During our work together, I at times find his wits and critical-thinking skills nothing short of amazing. There is no telling what he’s capable of. I can’t help but feel that hidden behind his eccentric behavior lurks something chilling—a devilish wisdom of some kind.

I have a difficult time believing he’s just some wanderer with no real background. Whenever I try to ask him about his past, he avoids the question. While I refuse to press him for answers, I wonder if he has a dark past. Could he have been in an illegal—?

“Awww, c’mon, lady! Just grant my asylum already! Pretty pleeease? C’mon, don’t look away from me when I’m talkin’ to you! Look at me! Yeah, like that! Keep lookin’ at me like that!”

—No. He’s just an idiot.

“Um… Could you please write your name on the waiting list?” The receptionist timidly pulls out a sheet of paper.

“I’ve already filled out one of those!” Dazai yells. He’s lying, of course. “I even made sure to complete all the parts in fine print with my favorite fountain pen, and I’m still not gettin’ any service. Why d’you think I came here to talk to you, huh?”

He whips out a thick coal-black fountain pen from his breast pocket to show her.

“This fountain pen is the same kind that was used by a Middle Eastern dictator. Pretty cool, huh? You can have a look if you want. Here. It’s long and heavy, so it’s extremely hard to write with. I had to use this to fill out all those little spaces over and over again. You can see why I’m mad now, right?”

It’s your fault for using that pen in the first place!

I keep that thought to myself, though.

“Listen, lady, I’m an author, mmkay? Ever read any of my books? Here, I’ll even make you the protagonist in my next story, so please just lemme speak to one of your higher-ups. I’ll write a book about us committing lovers’ suicide. I’ll even use this pen to write it if you help me defect.”

For a terrible author, he’s becoming curiously good at this acting thing. I get the sense this is how he woos women at pubs.

“C’mon, throw me a bone here. I’m in a lot of trouble. Big trouble! Some scary guys from the PSIA are coming for my neck! Listen, I just write whatever I

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