There Was No Secret Organization to Fight with the World’s Darkness so I Made One (In Exasperation)

"It's always night around. Night clubs are particularly noisy and prone to problems. Thanks to this, I became a nightlife."

Moonwatch parents walking downtown at night said so and looked back at me and laughed sarcastically, fixing the position of the light brown sunglasses with their fingers. It was totally yakuza from anywhere, but apparently it's not yakuza. At least the names of the moon guards were not on the list of designated gangs, non-designated groups, and quasi gangs in police custody who broke in a little bit with their minds and peeked. The Moon Watch is really just a mutual aid club. People don't know what it looks like. You risked your life to help me. It is the actions of my parents that I should believe.

I would be vigilant while walking half a step behind my parents as an escort appointed by Mr. Miyama, but the rogues of Tokyo, a boulder crime city, didn't even try to attribute it to a Yakuza-affiliated man who showed off his muscles with a G-pan at the top of the tank. Instead, the way it looks is on the side of causing it. What's the point of escorting me?

"Do you open a store called Stranger? That, legally."

"Tame mouth is fine. Nominally, I'm the proprietor and part-timer."

You're going to work illegally.

"I didn't know that. So you push it through. Give up the cops too if you go thoroughly. We can't afford to stick to the problem."

Cheats!

But it's true, it's valid, it's a necessary hand.

I don't know if it's illegal, but Stranger is having trouble sleeping exactly where he eats right now. If we wait for the government to respond, or if we step on regular means for a long time, what we are waiting for is starvation, freezing to death, or raids by thugs. It is better to make money in a way that is less annoying to people to get into touch with the law than to construct money for burglary or robbery. Relatively.

"Mutual aid club operating expenses are not springing up. My ex-hander is my money, but I can't afford the living expenses of 800 moon guards all the time. Twenty-four million dollars for a month's food alone, huh? You work for yourself, you stand on your own, you make money, you crush it."

"Huh, I'm having a hard time."

800 people x 1000 yen per day x 30 days. Indeed, the cost of food alone amounts to 24 million yen per month. Oops, that's a lot of money.

Strangers are unplanned Ampontans who come to Tokyo and starve for foolishness. There may have been some irresistible circumstances, but the vast majority are bad people.

They can't rely on anyone in an exotic land with no ties or ties, they can't get asylum from anywhere, and there's no way to live except to run to crime. Even if we agree to the forced repatriation of the country, the queue for returning home will create a long line of serpents that will wait for decades.

The issue of Stranger's return home is quite deeply rooted, according to the explanation his parents put him on the road.

When foreign tourists stay in Japan after the expiration of their visa (residence permit), they stay illegally and are accommodated in facilities of the Ministry of Justice.

However, suicide and suicide attempts have also occurred due to the severe stress of inmates forced into prolonged confinement, as the Ministry of Justice has now tightened the screening for "provisional release" that allows them to live outside the facility. And nothing has been done to address that problem.

There are 18 residential facilities for illegal residents nationwide, with a capacity of up to 30,000. The number of illegal residents at the moment, announced by the Ministry of Justice, is about 110,000 and cannot afford to be accommodated. Since they do not voluntarily return home but are deceased illegal residents, there will be no fewer illegal residents for as long as they are not forcibly repatriated. but there is a fatal problem with the forced repatriation process being carried out by Japan.

If he agrees, the repatriation process will proceed, but if he refuses to return home or his home country refuses to enter, he will be unable to do anything as soon as possible.

A man who had been forcibly repatriated in the past had died as a result of his detention in monkeys and tied bands and a long flight, and the Ministry of Justice had fallen back on the forcible return. And the vicious circle of inmates increasingly reluctant to forcibly return after hearing the rumors.

Even as the inmate's home country, troublemakers who cause cases of illegal stay in other countries do not want them to come back to their home country, so if they just say it by mouth, they will do everything in their power to refuse entry. Strangers in trouble in Japan are troubled even in their home countries. Japan is not a trash can.

The extreme is that they are not forcibly repatriated during refugee applications. No matter what you think, you can apply for refugees, not refugees. In the meantime, raw. It is the earliest inmate sag to file a refugee application in Nori that

Ride the Japanese snake with a hole in the law, run to crime and live, or starve to death on the straight path. The vast majority of Strangers are sloppy and bad people, and I think they should get hurt, but the status quo that just says "scum dies" is that it's problematic.

I was the starting point, and the problem in Tokyo, where the Japanese government grew by pouring fertilizer and water into it, was supported by the mindless idiots and Gabagaba.

I open up my home, cut myself open, splash a lot of money, and hold back to run around the city with my own feet to make it a little better.

This man, a saint or something?

"I didn't say it like any other HR, you'd be a stranger, too. If you get muddy, you'll starve to death if you don't make money."

"Ah yes."

Yes, I was a stranger with no home, no memory. I can't talk about people. Reflection.

"So, here's the first thing. I'll get in the way. - Hello, Dora."

"Oyabun! My dookini!

Parents luxuriously opened glass doors in small office buildings like they were about to be sandwiched and crushed by skyscrapers called out to foreign women who were tenants at the edges and lined up bottles on shelves.

It was an aunt in her forties with tiny flax hair who responded brightly. Stains and blushes are noticeable on the sunburned face, and the teeth are missing. He had big wheeled earrings hanging around his ears.

Designed to hang dried herbs and vegetable pots from the ceiling using wooden planks, the tenant is like a witch's herb shop while the store owner's appearance also matches.

"It's Diandra Ionescu from Romania. Commonly known as Dora. Dora, this guy is a stranger of amnesia."

"Kyokuszcz............?

"Uh, buddy, buddy. Lunar Guard."

"Oh! Nakama! Maidokini!"

"None."

Aunt Dora took my hand and shook it.

"What about this store? Herbal stores?"

I don't know, lined up on the shelf. When I asked looking at a bunch of bottles with honey-colored liquid or some shriveled root, my parents answered without incident as Aunt Dora gave me a suspicious vial with no label on it.

"It's a deserted honey shop."

"Hih."

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa Don't bother doing drugs with shinogi.

My parents smile bitterly at me and throw me one vial.

"I'll do it. It was defunct, I only use healthy natural materials. The ingredients were honey and lavender, rosemary, and... what was it?

"Ingredients halavender, rosemary, stevia, lemongrass degozai-mas"

"Yes, that's it. DD uses his assistant to grow herbs. Herbs are being wholesaled from there."

"DD?"

"Dogsare Doctor. He's the exclusive dark doctor for the Moon Guard."

"Yes, I will."

I was proud of the fact that Heavenly Photograph was probably full of dark characters, but the Moon Guard didn't look too bad. I heard about the Dark Doctor in real life. It's just a boulder stranger organization, an organization that gathers and simmers the freaks of the world.

I tried licking the honey I lost to curiosity with my fingers, but it tasted better than any honey I had ever eaten, and I licked it five or six times. The aroma is also excellent.

"I can sell this. Are you sure you don't have any nasty ingredients in there? That's too much."

"Dora was a honey farmer at her parents' house. I don't know what to do with my parents' secrets. Hey, Dora, what's wrong? Is the store ready?

"Mowkalimakka! Hanjo, Hanjo. Hanashi-Kawalkedo, Herb, Hoshi. Koledake."

Saying so, Aunt Dora made a gesture of making mountains with her hands. Parents snort pleasantly.

"Okay, that's a lot of extra herbs. I'll bring it tomorrow."

"My Dookini, Oyabun!

"Whoa. Don't work late."

My parents shook Aunt Dora's hand firmly and waved and broke up. I'm out of town at night again about my parents. He stuck his hand in his pocket and walked with dignity. His parents' back looked reliable.

Good boss. I can't believe that a boss who tells me "don't work late" exists in real life. I thought that a creature called my boss could only ring "o maen no responsibility da," "pay cut da," and "niowara sero all day".

All the shops patrolled by their parents were worked by strangers, mostly small shops in building tenants, but some of them worked part-time in small restaurants or opened (without permission) shops on the street one step off the main street with a caution stick. Parents say that Strangers under the Moon Guard are searching for a place to earn money and opening scattered stores all over Tokyo.

There are many ways to make money.

A multinational local restaurant that gathers strangers of various nationalities and serves home cooking from different countries.

Performing arts and merchants performing local folk songs and dances or making traditional accessories for sale.

Uri urban agriculture has the freshness of bringing planters to verandas and rooftops to grow vegetables.

At the clever place, he/she is in charge of the online store and online payment management of the above stores.

If you can speak Katakoto Japanese, you can do manual labor at the construction site, and cooks and laundry clerks at the moon guard's mansion are counted as jobs, and wages are paid from the family's nostalgia. I'm hired by my parents, too.

And not all of the eight hundred moon guard constituents live in moon guard mansions, tenting suburban land, or renting cheap properties to live in. Basically, strangers have no social credibility and it's hard to rent a property, but there are exceptions. Especially since a realtor like the one I've heard somewhere called Tsuki Real Estate is stranger friendly, it seems to be aimed at.

Most realtors refuse to rent a home or tenant just because it's a stranger. Strangers don't have a guarantor, they take their equipment out on their own (in some cases they used to take curtain rails away from the furnishing stoves and sell them out), because the noise is terrible or dirty, they cause immediate fights and trouble, they die in the room, and rent arrears easily escape at night after everyday tea meals. Not all strangers do, but the vast majority do, making it impossible for a stranger with a lettel named Malicious Guest to rent the property first.

In that regard, Saki Real Estate said that the multilingual owner, albeit catacotto, would interview him directly to identify the borrower and lend the property to him even if he judged him to be an ant in ability to pay, even if he was a stranger. Tolerance in creating a partition on your own in a studio property to pretend you won't see it even if you convert it into two or three rooms.

I didn't know Mr. Tsuki was doing that. No, speaking of which, it's like he owned a building by biting an overseas deputy.

Well, I have amnesia, so I have no idea who Tachigi is. I'm sure there's something so beautiful, beautiful, cute, hard-working, smart and teachy about her, that she's the kind of person who would persevere in her princess's aspirations and buy a title and work out a castle building plan!

Almost all the strangers in the Moon Guard were able to speak only Katakoto Japanese, but if they exchanged gestures, they were able to communicate critically. To be precise, the Moon Guard recommends that you remember the words you need to work on the instructions of your parents, and they say you're opening a store that brings your stunts to life from the guy you remember. Nevertheless, because of the difficulty of communicating intentions, my British Inspection Associate Class 1 sprayed fire in two or three stores and contributed to solving the problems that store owners had. My parents thanked me. It's an honor.

That's how I continued to patrol smoothly as I felt the reality of Stranger, which I only knew over the news and in the distance, but the incident happened at a trading site for high-purity curry flour.

Mr. Prakash Kumar came to Japan to power spot Tokyo City in Uwasa to desarry and open the eyes of his heart, a young man from India who was deceived by Yakuza and lost all his possessions. The stored chin beard and wheat skin look Indian.

He has zero spice knowledge and has never made curry powder specially for use. On the instructions of his parents, he stands and sells herbs mixed with curry powder on the market, branded "real high-purity curry powder". If you were selling something like that with an Indian face like that, you'd say, "It looks amazing!" It seems that there are quite a few people who buy it. It sounds like a scam, but it would be an out-of-the-box safe. The products sold are curry powder that can be eaten properly. By the way, some Brazilian women are walking around selling upper-based coffee beans to their peers.

Parents collude with Mr. Prakash, who can speak Japanese there, and exchange Aunt Dora's derailment honey for high-purity curry powder.

Watching over that, these guys are either too funny, you can already build a secret society of darkness based on the Moon Guards, no, it's only day one. It was a yakuza-like man with black sunglasses in his black suit who showed up before me to soften up to see how things were going a little bit more. The man stuck his hand in his pocket and came forward awesome.

"Oh, brothers, the economy doesn't look good."

Whoa, wow. The dialogue looks yakuza! Sounds so yakuza! I'm not scared at all compared to my parents.

"This is Shima from the Tanigao group. Who gives you permission to do business? Oh!?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll be on my way."

"But do you have any kakashi?! I'll pay you. I'll pay you!

Parents standing in shelter of the frightened Mr. Prakash, going out poorly and bowing their heads. Let the muscle molly macho man bow his head and Yakuza is feeling well.

How many heads have I lost to my parents, Cora? You drop it.

Even as an escort, I can't overlook this. Sure, we may have been in illegal business, but there's no reason to get snagged. You're the one who disappears.

I stood in front of my parents. My parents have been whispering, "Hey, don't be rough," so I'll snort. If that's what your parents say, let's go easy on you.

"What are you doing? I'm not calling you. Get out of here."

"Ma, ma, calm down. Lick even honey...... oh, I broke my shoelace. That's ominous! Why don't you go home?"

"Oh? I don't give a shit about shoelaces. Honey, what the hell, you."

Yakuza glanced at his feet, but he doesn't look like he's just going home frustrated.

Can't you?

We don't have a choice. That would be ominous level two.

Around the hips of a yakuza that swept high pressure, there was a noise.

Then a thousand chopped belts drooped from Yakuza's waist.

"Oh, I lost my belt."

"Oh? Care about the belt...... the belt? Belt!?"

Yakuza looked twice at the belt that was blurring and peeled off his eyes. Mmm, good reaction.

"That's ominous. Don't you think? Hey?"

Stuffed in a yakuza that loses words. Yakuza pulled his face and lagged behind as he was compelled by an obscure monster.

I looked in my ear and whispered.

"What's going to cut next, huh? Wouldn't it be better if I left today?"

"Kiku, I remember urgently! For today, I want to forgive you! I don't think so!

Yakuza escaped!

I took 55,000 yen from Yakuza's purse with my mind! You got it, you got it!

"I don't know what it is, but you did well. Thank you."

"My do-okini! My do-okini!

My parents and Mr. Prakash thanked me and I can light it up a bit. It's a little event. Back society, fun.

Since Mr. Prakash's place was the last of today's patrol, my parents and I headed back to the moon guard residence.

But I thought Yakuza handled it well, but the face of his parents on the way home is rude. Did I make a mistake? Should I have sent you to the hospital in peace?

"Parenthood, something to worry about."

When I asked, my parents looked at me and said after getting a little lost.

"You just got in yesterday, but let me tell you something. That yakuza was called the Tanioka group. The Tanioka group has grown in strength over the past year in Tokyo's largest yakuza."

"Huh."

"There was a disruption in the sales of the moon guard's shop. It was also the Tanioka group that attacked you yesterday. Even if you look around like this, your hands spin. Because of that... I'm sorry, but the Moon Guard has three months to go."

"Are you serious?"

The organization that tried to form the basis of the secret society is about to collapse quickly.

What should I do?