An underground shelter owned by Public Safety, located somewhere in the city.
Amuro was once quarantined in this shelter. He mulls over those memories as the elevator descends.
After descending for quite a long time, the elevator finally comes to a stop.
The iron grilles slide open, and Amuro strides down the long hallway stretching out before him. Two pillars stand tall, framing a chamber enclosed by reinforced glass.
Beyond the glass, Hayashi sits on an armchair. The collar of his shirt is askew, his hair disheveled. A black telephone sits on the side table beside him, its receiver dangling down.
Amuro lifts the receiver of a phone mounted to a pillar.
“You’ve committed countless crimes on top of your murder of a police officer... it’s highly likely that you’ll face execution for this incident.”
Beyond the glass, Hayashi glances up.
“Who are you?”
Amuro tilts his head against the receiver, his smile enigmatic.
“And so, I’m offering you a plea deal. If you agree to keep any mention of Public Safety out of your trial, I’ll direct the prosecution to seek a life sentence. You’ll be eligible for parole on paper, though you’ll never get it.”
“So you’re Public Safety too…” Hayashi says, looking away. “My answer is no. I’ll be using my trial to reveal the sins this country is planning to commit.”
It’s only natural that Hayashi, who despises plea deals more than anything, would refuse. Amuro already expected as much.
“Then I suppose the fact that you dated Funakubo Maki-san will become public knowledge.”
At those words, Hayashi looks back at Amuro.
“Your poor girlfriend who took her life is of course a given, but her father as well… I do wonder how the public will see them…”
“You bastard…!” His shoulders trembling with rage, Hayashi glares at Amuro.
“Now then, please feel free to make your choice.”
“You’re playing dirty. Is this how Public Safety operates?!”
“Yes,” says Amuro, nodding. He smiles, cold-blooded. “You were one of us until recently- this is how Public Safety operates. Were you not aware?”
