wow! that's quite the answer to give him.
her response is refreshingly straightforward. ranpo is used to far more arguing and competitive morality debates when it comes to his job-- and more than that, how he approaches it.
there are about 269 police detectives he has angered in the past with his antics; they've all called him some variation of a selfish, plucky child playing detective, souped up on pulp fiction, or even a disgrace to the title of detective.
to be a detective is to share the most intimate dance with life and death, to wield the scales of justice like a weapon. any information he provided, all the evidence he laid out -- it was the metaphorical blade that would rob the criminal of their freedom.
ranpo has taken sick, strange, and sometimes unnecessary amusement and pride in his cases.
there are so many that ended up unfavorable to those related to the victim. countless relatives scorn him and mutter that he didn't do enough, that he should've helped sooner --
but he's only a private detective at the end of the day.
he can only act once the police beg for his graciousness.
" i like you. you have a good head on your shoulders. "
reaching into his vest, he shuffles around the candy wrappers and un-eaten candy until his fingers brush against a sturdy piece of paper.
really, he's barely had a reason to offer this thing, but right now seems like a good time. harunocchi's hobby of graphic design was being put to use at last, after months!
with a flick of his wrist, ranpo holds out a small card: contact information for him and the agency.
" if you're ever in any trouble again and need some help that the police aren't giving, you just call me up, mm'kay? you can use that if the police are giving you a hard time, too. "
none of them want edogawa ranpo up their ass for something they could have easily avoided, after all. he's the type of guy who gets a sick joy out of making someone's life hell over the most minor of things.
