Midas Touch: Anti-Paranormal Economic Crime Section

It was long, long ago—I'm talking way back, in like some distant century BC shit.

According to Greek mythology, a King named Midas lived in this ancient country called Phrygia.

One day, the Gods granted King Midas the power to turn everything he touched into gold.

The king was ecstatic and used this power to amass a great fortune. Enough to make anyone jealous.

Centuries passed, to 20XX. Then, on a winter's day five years ago, out of nowhere, Wall Street was hit with this financial crisis, the like of which had not been seen since the Great Depression, before World War II. Black Friday, as it became known, sparked a recession that spread around the world like a plague. Massive economic disparities lead to wars, famine, and many people dying.

Around the same time, reports of individuals with strange abilities began surfacing globally.

In England, an old woman could throw coins like bullets to catch pickpockets. In the slums of India, a blind boy could hear the sound of banknotes falling kilometers away; in Hong Kong, a suspicious old man could predict fluctuations in land value just by the smell of the soil; and in South Africa, a girl who could find gold deposits was revered as a deity.

The fact that these individuals all exhibited powers related to money lead an economic journalist in New York to dub their abilities the Midas Touch, after the myth of King Midas.

In his article, he wrote:

From ancient times, it has been said that those who possess this power could acquire immense wealth . . .

And now, here I was, counting coins in my palm.

There was 729 yen. That was all the money I had in the world.

Seriously? That's way too poor for a twenty-two-year-old man. I'm a civil servant, for crying out loud. This is practically a middle schooler's allowance. No, I'll bet middle schoolers are richer than this. As I clinked the coins back into my wallet with a deep sigh, Regina, who was sitting in the passenger seat, glared at me with her icy blue eyes.

How long are you going to keep clinging to it?

Regina Wakatsuki was a quarter Russian. Rumor had it her grandmother was spy for the former Soviet Union. Perhaps it was in her blood, because she herself had been caught hacking into the stock exchange system from a net cafe computer. That was how the government headhunted her to join me in the Economic Security Bureau of the Cabinet Office. She may not have supernatural abilities, but she was a remarkable hacker. However, with her edgy punk outfit and hair dyed blue, she hardly looked like a government official. Regina opened her mouth to speak, flashing her fang-like snaggle teeth.

Hand it over, please. I won't touch your small change.

Regina tried to snatch my wallet, but I had no intention of letting go.

What did she mean, small change? That was my lifeline until the next payday.

As we silently grappled for the wallet, Keizo Shibusawa, who was sitting in the back seat of the car, wedged his muscular bulk between the front seats and spoke to me in his rumbling voice, thick with a Kansai dialect.

Oi, Mizumachi! You wanna be careful keeping that thing in your inside pocket. It might just explode and turn your heart into mincemeat.

Chief Shibusawa was a originally a Detective in the Organized Crime Section of the Osaka Prefectural Police. His appearance and manner were like something straight out of a direct-to-video gangster movie. Reluctantly, I passed my wallet to Regina. She cheerfully took it.

Ok, I've just deposited a hundred thousand into your account.

I pulled out my smartphone and opened the banking app. Sure enough, the balance showed exactly one hundred thousand yen. Regina stared at me as I checked my phone.

Needless to say, that's for expenses. Use your abilities wisely.

I did not need to be told. I put my smartphone back in my pocket.

Chief Shibusawa was gazing at the neon lights of the entertainment district through the front windshield.

Road's closed from here on out. We'll have to walk to the scene.

At Chief Shibusawa's command, we got out of the car. The shock as I closed the car door caused the magnetic sign reading Cabinet Office which was stuck to the car, to shift. I readjusted it.

* * *

To tackle the rampant paranormal crimes arising from the appearance of those with the Midas Touch, the Prime Minister took the initiative to establish a specialized department within the Cabinet Office. That's us, the Anti-Paranormal Economic Crime Section of the Cabinet Office's Economic Security Bureau.

The name was admittedly a mouthful, so it was abbreviated to APES.

Which sounded just like, apes. It was a stupid abbreviation, but watching the gorilla-like Chief Shibusawa walking ahead of me now, it felt quite fitting. Plus, the neon-lit entertainment district on this steamy night felt just like a tropical jungle. I loosened my tie and grumbled.

But seriously, what’s up with this crazy surge of people with abilities committing crimes recently?

What'd you expect? The number of people with abilities has skyrocketed globally.

The chief snapped open his fan and directed the stream of air over his stern face. He then launched into a booming speech.

Creatures adapt to survive in harsh environments. Y'know, mollusks living near hot water vents on the ocean floor grow iron oxide armor. For us humans, the economy is like that. It's a harsh environment we've gotta adapt to. The global recession's been going on for ages now. It’s no wonder humans are evolving to cope with the harsh economic environment.

Harsh economic environment. Well, he was right there. I looked around.

It was only early evening, but the recession meant that there were barely any people navigating the neon-lit streets. Most shops were completely shuttered. In their place, cardboard shanty houses lined the streets.

A crowd had gathered at the plaza. At its center, a young man brandishing a megaphone was haranguing the audience with ominous calls about the oppressed rising up in the name of God.

This mess was the aftermath of Black Friday that had devastated the financial markets, plus lingering effects of failed policies from past regimes. The country had been stuck in a vicious cycle, where poor economic conditions decreased tax revenue, leading to tax hikes, further dampening the economy.

Speaking of which, I heard a celebrity doctor on TV, Dr. Something-Or-Other, saying that the Midas Touch is something like an allergy.

Regina came up next to me, joining the conversation.

You know, like how people develop hay fever. Everyone has been continually exposed to harsh economic conditions beyond their capacity to cope. Then, one day out of the blue, they started to manifest abilities.

I see. They had developed antibodies in response to external stimuli. That didn't sound too far-fetched. Come to think of it, most people who awaken to their abilities often had some sort of trauma related to money, like being born in a slum or having parents who had committed suicide over debt.

Recent studies show that the darker your subconscious, the more powerful your abilities are.

The chief snapped his fan shut, setting the tone.

Where there’s light, there’s shadow. At first, those with abilities were lauded like heroes, but gradually we began to see them for the danger they can be. It's got to the point where they are obligated to register their abilities with the government. In some countries, they even have to wear GPS badges when going out. It might come to that in Japan, too.

Hearing that, I shook my head. It was as if having abilities automatically made you a criminal.

I don't know when it began, but initially people dubbed those with abilities, touched. It was a roundabout way of saying something's off with them. Naturally, due to the stigma of society viewing them like this, the number of unregistered people with abilities spiked. And, as you might expect, so did the crimes committed by them.

Regina seemed to agree with this.

Well, it’s only natural, isn’t it? Given that many people already feel bad about the economy. Looks like we’ll be busy too.

And all for peanuts.

I lamented, but Regina just shrugged her shoulders.

It can't be helped. Do you have any idea how much debt the government is in right now?

Hearing this, Chief Shibusawa stopped in his tracks, turned around, and gave us a stern look.

Our department is still just a preliminary set up. We won't see a real budget until we show some results. Besides, this job is a walk in the park compared to a detective's job.

Since Shibusawa himself was a former detective, it must be true. The chief turned his back on us and started walking again.

We silently followed in his footsetps.

Our role as APES investigators was something like narcotics police or the coast guard. Like, special judicial police officers—not exactly police, but government officials with the authority to investigate, handcuff, and even use firearms. Primarily, our remit was to tackle cases involving people with supernatural abilities that were beyond the capabilities of the regular police. For that reason, we'd often overlap with the work of normal police. Since APES, was a new section handpicked from the missfits of the Cabinet Office, yet holding more authority than the police, you can imagine how tense it could be when we butted heads on crime scenes.

Oh, look at that, the band of apes has arrived.

As we emerged from the neon-lit streets onto the main road, the detectives from the Metropolitan Police’s First Investigative Section welcomed us with their customary warmth. In particular, Detective Toshihiko Hino, who loved nothing better than joshing us, approached. He was grinning like a snake that had spotted its prey.

Perfect timing. I was dying of boredom. Show us some tricks, why don’t you?

The officers behind Hino applauded and whistled. A friendly bunch of jerks.

When a crime involved a person with abilities, requesting APES' intervention became obligatory, even mid-investigation. They might not have liked it to have us take over their jobs, but it was certainly no fun for us either to receive this kind of "hospitality" every time we arrived at a scene.

Chief Shibusawa represented us and returned the comment with a jab of his own.

Too bad for you, I don't have any tricks up my sleeve besides shutting up loudmouths.

With that, Shibusawa removed his jacket. Even through his shirt, his body looked like it was armored in muscle. Seeing this, Hino backed off. Regina closed in on him, wrinkling her nose in warning, her expression suspicious.

You know, cooperation with us is mandatory, and smoking on duty is a violation of the regulations, Detective.

?!

Flustered, Hino pulled out a piece of bubble gum and tossed it into his mouth. Regina smiled.

If you don't want to be reported to your boss, why don't you hurry up and show us the scene?

Hino clicked his tongue with annoyance and led us on. We followed Hino, ducking under the tape crisscrossed between the buildings, ignoring the busy police officers as we headed to the scene. Walking at the front, Hino gruffly explained the situation.

The perpetrator is Tadao Sato. Address and occupation unknown. In his late forties. Seems he sold his national ID number to the yakuza long ago. He was living homeless in a nearby park, but recently the Midas Touch awoke in him. He’s unregistered, of course, and has been bragging about that to his homeless buddies. His Midas Touch makes cash explode.

It what?

As I frowned, Hino continued, looking annoyed.

As I said, when he focuses on the money, it explodes. A ten-yen coin like a firecracker, a million yen in bills with the force of a hand grenade. Look over there.

We had arrived in front of a building. On the first floor entrance, the charred remains of a bank's sign were visible. Behind the fire trucks that had finished extinguishing the flames, rows of burnt out ATMs were lined up on the floor and all the windows had been blown out.

That's Physical Attack category. I’d rate it as Third Class.

Regina analyzed the scene, taking photos of the burned out site. Those with the Midas Touch are classified based on their attributes and economic impact. Just a trend, but those who had awakened to lower-grade physical attack abilities tended to come from the more impoverished parts of society. Poor people with such violent abilities could cause a lot of trouble.

An hour ago, the culprit turned tens of millions of yen inside this branch into ash in an instant.

That's a Physical Attack category. I’d rate it as Third Class.

What was his goal here? Terrorism?

Hino answered while chewing on his piece of gum.

Hard to say. The only demand was a getaway car. The culprit took a female bank employee hostage and barricaded himself in the underground parking lot.

I shifted my gaze to the entrance of the underground parking lot where the criminal had escaped to. It was pitch black down there, like some kind of portal straight to hell. Then Hino, for some reason, spoke cheerfully.

Apparently, our man has arranged the ten-thousand yen bills in a large circle around himself in the middle of the parking lot. It’s like a minefield. Get too close and; boom—the whole place goes up.

Hino blew a bubble with his gum until it burst, then continued explaining.