I always knew I’d read The Perfect Outsider, the finale to Hiroshi Mori’s S&M Series. Well, “always” is a bit of an overstatement. After I finished The Perfect Insider, the first book in the series, I knew I’d read The Perfect Outsider. I wasn’t sure about the intervening books, but the next two passed my test, so I dutifully proceeded through the series until we arrived here, and… I wouldn’t say I wish I hadn’t, but it was certainly a disappointing ending. For most of the book I thought it was fun and plot-focused with an interesting scenario, but Mori’s bad habits started creeping up again in the final third until the book culminated in an anti-climax letdown.
As a warning, the premise of The Perfect Outsider (and thus this review) has general spoilers for The Perfect Insider. I think it’s a bit of an “open secret” if you look at Mori’s works, but you’ve been warned!
Most of the story takes place in Euro Park, a Europe-themed amusement park built by Nanocraft, a software compare run by Rikiya Hanawa. Rikiya and Moe’s fathers were friends and joked about arranging a marriage between the two, so Moe sometimes flippantly refers to Rikiya as her fiancé, even though the two have never actually met and the joke died with Moe’s parents. Rikiya has invited Saikawa and his students (including Moe) to hold their winter seminar in Euro Park, and Moe and two of her friends travel to Euro Park a few days early at Rikiya’s personal invitation. (Moe being a major stockholder in Nanocraft also helps.)Rikiya and Moe have a dinner date where he roofies her, and Moe wakes up in a dim room with Shiki Magata, who taunts Moe a bit before Moe passes out again. Moe contacts Saikawa, who also receives a taunting phone call from Shiki. Moe and her friends keep running into impossible murders while Saikawa secretly travels to Euro Park to join up with Moe and try to outmaneuver Shiki.
The S&M Series is usually relatively grounded and STEM-focused, so the setting felt a bit out there this time. Not only does Moe have a tech millionaire boyfriend that she never told us about, but he also has a theme park in the middle of nowhere, complete with a secret lair, err, company headquarters. And he uses the theme park to harbor a supervillain. (Imagine if Bob Iger secretly kept America’s Most Wanted in Disneyland.)
Once you get past all that, I liked the beginning of The Perfect Outsider. The murders all appear to be impossible, and the final murder is particularly unique. There are several odd rumors surrounding Nanocraft as smaller mysteries, and even a few word puzzles sprinkled. The book is focused squarely on the plot, without character or philosophical tangents. Nanocraft is a tech company, so even though a theme park seems like a strangely whimsical setting for the series, it still functions as a reasonable platform to show off new technology. It’s particularly interesting to see what was “cutting edge” at the time and where Mori thought technology was heading in hindsight. (Mori was a bit off, but he was probably closer than most people in 1998.
But about two-thirds of the way through, the story starts to unravel. Pseudointellectual tangents come back with a vengeance, and the way the cast just accepts Rikiya harboring Shiki grows sillier and sillier as the body count grows. And then we get the climax and reveal… I understand what Mori wanted to do, but the structure of the denouement still feels bizarre. Moe and Saikawa constantly talk about wanting to not fall into Shiki’s trap, and then play along in the stupidest and most unreasonable way possible. The technology also seems to suddenly defy all logic and expectation at the very end (although not really in a way that is plot relevant, so perhaps I’m just being crotchety).
I could perhaps excuse all that if the solution to the mystery wasn’t a massive cop-out waste of time. It feels like the laziest possible answer to what are interesting set-ups. While it’s unfortunate whenever this sort of thing pops up, what really gets me is that this feels like the absolute worst place to use it. (Big spoilers, rot-13) Vs lbh’er gelvat gb qenj Zbr’f nggragvba jvgu n zheqre tnzr, “gurer vf ab fbyhgvba yby” srryf yvxr yvgrenyyl gur jbefg raqvat lbh pbhyq cyna gb trg ure ba obneq.
Over the course of the story there were several spots where the characters take certain actions when it feels like there are much more reasonable obvious alternatives, and eventually I just assumed that the technology and structure of the world must not have actually allowed for those alternatives since nobody even contemplated them… and then at the end it’s revealed that no, the characters should’ve been doing the obvious alternatives the entire time. These characters are supposed to be smart, and Mori desperately wants you to think that they’re smart (and that he’s smart, because he was able to write them). It’s an insult to the reader’s intelligence to have the characters constantly discuss how strategic and methodical they’re being and then reveal that the plot only functioned because they were taking the most transparently idiotic and contrived option at every turn. I still find it hard to believe that the entire thing hinged on (rot-13) Zbr abg hfvat ure pryy cubar, considering there was absolutely no reason for that not to happen and it was pretty much the perfect situation for it.
While Mori has never focused on motives (and in fact has a passage in this book where he essentially acknowledges that), the lack of any here feel particularly egregious. The characters spend a fair amount of time digging into possible connections of the victims. Plus, this is the finale of the series! Shiki is back! Can’t we get something to tie off the series, rather than just an arbitrary series of murders? The answer is no. (I didn’t particularly care about it, but it would’ve been nice to at least get some development of Moe and Saikawa’s relationship as a consolation prize, but Mori couldn’t even let us have that. But, even though this is the end of the S&M Series, Saikawa and Moe apparently continue to star in Mori’s other books, which is why we can’t have any sort of closure.)
Worst of all, “the Perfect Outsider” doesn’t actually have any special meaning.
The S&M Series tends to be wrought with needless tangents and character scenes, is in love with its characters, treats women weirdly, and has some misses—but also some really cool and fun entries with interesting tricks and plots hidden underneath all that other stuff. While each book would always have some STEM connection, Mori would still try to innovate and do something new and different with each entry. The Perfect Outsider might not be the worst book in the series, but it’s probably the most disappointing, as it teases being a complement to the bombastic first entry and then does nothing nearly as interesting or clever. Now that I’ve finished and can look back at the series as a whole, I’d say it’s a fun ride, just stop at seven (the loneliest number) if you decide to experience it yourself.
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