Bomb Detonation

Although Nagata Chota was a delinquent, it didn't mean he was a fool. On the contrary, delinquents who often engaged in wrongdoing typically had ways to evade responsibility, and the best way was naturally to shift the blame onto someone else. As a minor, Nagata Chota knew that the punishment for juvenile offenders was much lighter than for adults. Moreover, if a juvenile committed a crime under the direction of an adult, the court would surely be even more lenient towards the juvenile.

Nagata Chota was well aware of this, so he didn't hesitate to implicate Kamezo Kondo, the man who had instructed him. He presented himself as a deceived minor in order to evade as much punishment as possible.

"It was a man in his fifties who told me to steal these athletes' urine samples. He deceived me! I was tricked!" Nagata Chota shouted.

The two police officers at the scene exchanged glances. They initially thought this was a simple robbery, but Nagata Chota's statement changed everything. The stolen items were athletes' urine samples, not something of monetary value, indicating that this matter was beyond their capacity to handle. They immediately called their superiors.

Nearby, Masao Fukuda's face turned pale. Nagata Chota's accusation made it clear that this was a premeditated robbery, specifically targeting the samples in his possession. Although these samples were worthless in terms of money, they held significant value in another context. Considering the International Association of Athletics Federations' (IAAF) strict stance on doping, Fukuda broke out in a cold sweat.

"There's definitely a conspiracy here!" Fukuda quickly took out his phone to report to his superiors.

Meanwhile, Yuko Iida was thrilled, sensing a major news story. The theft of athletes' urine samples was already sensational, but the fact that the thief was acting under someone else's instructions made it even more intriguing. Why would someone steal these samples? What was their motive? What story lay behind this? Iida even thought she could write a suspense novel based on this lead.

"Did you get it all on camera? Did you capture what the thief said?" Iida immediately asked her cameraman partner, who gave a thumbs-up to indicate that everything had been recorded.

"Film me! Quickly! I caught this thief! I deserve an interview!" Ikumi Eguchi shouted internally, realizing that the camera had been ignoring him all along.

"Why isn't the camera on me? Was all my effort for nothing? I even got hit by that guy. It really hurts," Eguchi thought, feeling frustrated. He noticed Fukuda opening the box to check the samples, and the camera promptly focused on the box.

Eguchi rushed to Fukuda's side, showing concern, and asked, "How are the samples? Are they okay?" He moved closer to the camera, making sure he was in the frame.

...

"Did it succeed?" Kamezo Kondo waited anxiously in his car for news from Nagata Chota.

A few days earlier, after leaving the Deputy Minister's office, Kondo had decided to obtain athletes' urine samples through illegal means. Based on his investigation, he found that after collection, the samples were transported to the testing center by car, and the security at the center was too tight to infiltrate. Therefore, snatching the samples midway was the only option. After much searching, Kondo found Nagata Chota, valuing his speed for a successful getaway.

Kondo chose Nagata mainly because of his speed, believing he could escape smoothly after stealing the samples. However, Kondo didn't anticipate that Nagata would encounter Ikumi Eguchi during the escape.

Despite being only seventeen, Eguchi would later briefly dominate Japan's 100-meter sprint. In 2009, he ran 100 meters in 10.07 seconds, the fourth-best time in Japanese history, trailing only Koji Ito, Shingo Asahara, and Shingo Suetsugu. Although Nagata was fast, the gap between him and Japan's future top sprinter was substantial.

Thus, Nagata implicated Kondo, leading to Kondo's arrest by the police.

....

In the interrogation room, Kamezo Kondo appeared unusually calm in the face of police questioning. His suit was immaculate, his glasses spotless, and his hair meticulously groomed, giving the impression that he was attending an academic conference rather than an interrogation.

"Yes, I did give Nagata Chota money to help me obtain those samples," Kondo admitted outright, not attempting to hide anything. He even acted as though this was perfectly reasonable behavior.

"Why did you want those samples? What did you intend to do with them?" the police officer asked.

"Of course, to test them," Kondo replied with a hint of sarcasm in his eyes, as if mocking the police for asking such a foolish question. Concerned that the police might not understand, he added, "To test whether the samples contain any banned substances."

The interrogating officer and the clerk exchanged glances, clearly finding this answer odd.

"The competition's organizing committee has a designated testing facility for those samples," the police officer pointed out.

"You mean to say that since there's a designated testing facility, my involvement is unnecessary? You find my answer strange and unreasonable, so you think I'm lying, don't you?" Kondo smiled as if he had won a victory. "With those so-called testing facilities' outdated technology, how could they possibly detect that athletes are using banned drugs?"

"What do you mean?" the officer asked.

"I mean their technology is so outdated that compared to my lab, it's like they're a century behind! Some athletes are clearly using banned substances, but they can't detect it." Kondo leaned forward, eyes wide, and said seriously, "But I can!"

"So, you sent someone to rob those samples just to prove your technology is more advanced?" the officer asked.

"I am upholding justice!" Kondo insisted stubbornly.

The officer took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Kondo, I think it's time we stopped beating around the bush. Tell us your real purpose."

"You still don't believe me!" Kondo seemed a bit angry.

"The samples have already been sent to the testing center. Twenty minutes ago, the reports came out, and none of the tested samples showed any issues," the officer said with a hint of disdain. "So you've been lying to us all along."

"No, I haven't! They can't detect anything because those incompetent fools lack the necessary technology," Kondo continued to argue. "And I have evidence!"

"Evidence?" The interrogating officer perked up.

"During last year's Yokohama All-Star Games, I discovered that some athletes were using performance-enhancing drugs. I have all the test reports from that time! They can prove that what I'm saying is true. If you don't believe me, you can have the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) verify it," Kondo said urgently. He was no longer concerned about implicating others; he just wanted to save himself. The issue of Justin Gatlin using performance-enhancing drugs, as revealed in the reports, would now be the concern of the detestable Deputy Minister from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

...

Although Japan wanted to cover up the incident, the IAAF intervened the same day.

To the Japanese organizers' dismay, reporter Yuko Iida broke the story the next day, making the entire country aware of the robbery of the athletes' samples. The incident immediately attracted media attention.

Ikumi Eguchi also got involved, giving interviews to several media outlets and portraying himself as a public-spirited "model youth." Due to this exposure, Waseda University finally extended an olive branch to Eguchi, offering him a spot at the prestigious university.

"Robbery of athletes' samples," "Japan's top scientist Kamezo Kondo," and "Japanese sprinting prodigy Ikumi Eguchi catching a thief"—this series of interconnected stories drew significant public attention.

However, the most passive player in this situation was the Deputy Minister of Japan's Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Current evidence suggested that he was aware of Justin Gatlin's use of performance-enhancing drugs at last year's Yokohama All-Star Games but used his authority to cover it up.

Was this the Deputy Minister's personal decision or the official stance of Japan?

This question was crucial for the IAAF. If the cover-up was merely the Deputy Minister's personal act, it might be excusable; but if it was Japan's official policy, the implications would be severe.

It's understood that a host nation can never be entirely fair and impartial; for example, in football, it's common for the visiting team to face difficulties in lodging, dining, and training. Even in large-scale events like the Olympics, home athletes often receive favorable treatment. Such minor biases are tolerated.

However, knowingly covering up the use of performance-enhancing drugs is a different matter. It's a serious violation of sports fairness. If it was Japan's official policy, it could lead to the country losing the right to host any international competitions.

Japan was evidently aware of this. The Deputy Minister had clearly acted wrongly, so from the Cabinet to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, it was unanimously decided to place the blame entirely on him. The Deputy Minister's downfall was certain, and his political career was effectively over.

As for Kamezo Kondo, regardless of whether his motivation for instructing others to commit robbery was justified, he had broken the law and would undoubtedly face legal consequences.