The soft buzz of the city enveloped the crime scene as police cars lined the narrow street outside Satsujin Sha’s home. Officers moved in and out, gathering evidence, cataloging the scene. Inside, under the dim light, Satsujin's body y still on the floor, blood dried and congealed around him. But something was off—something the officers couldn't quite put their finger on.

  Arika had made the call to the authorities after leaving the scene. It was a calcuted move. He knew the aftermath would be full of questions, but he never expected the strange ripple that followed.

  When the lead detective arrived, he stared at the body, brow furrowed. His team examined every inch of the room, yet something gnawed at the detective’s mind. He knew this crime scene should feel significant—it was, after all, the end of Satsujin Sha, the man who had eluded the police for so long. And yet, as he stared at the lifeless form, something was slipping from his memory, like sand through his fingers.

  “What was his name again?” the detective muttered to himself.

  A junior officer nearby turned to him, equally confused. “It’s strange... I don’t remember.”

  Soon, a quiet unease spread throughout the investigation. Despite the evidence, despite the corpse lying in front of them, none of the officers could clearly recall who this man was, why he mattered, or the terror he had spread. The dead body was there, but it was like an echo—distant, fading. Satsujin Sha, the name that had once sent shivers through the city, was dissolving from their collective consciousness.

  Outside, the media gathered in a storm of fshing cameras and hungry questions. Yet, even among the reporters, there was confusion. Headlines formed and dissolved in real-time.

  “Murdered Criminal Mastermind... Who Was He?” one journalist typed, but stopped halfway, unable to recall the exact details.

  Inside the police station, the situation grew stranger. Case files reted to Satsujin began to blur, facts fading as if reality itself were unraveling around him. The killer who had evaded capture for years was slipping from existence, his story turning into whispers and fragments.

  At the far end of the city, news of Satsujin Sha’s death reached a small apartment. Aira Kun stood in the doorway, eyes wide as she listened to the television report. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Satsujin Sha—her first love, the man who had once been everything to her—was dead.

  Tears welled in her eyes as the weight of loss hit her like a wave. Memories of him, of their time together before his descent into darkness, flooded her mind. She remembered his smile, the warmth in his eyes before everything had changed. Before he had become the monster the world knew him as.

  In her grief, something else stirred—a darker emotion. Rage. Not at Satsujin’s death, but at the world that had pushed him to become what he was. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t right, that there was something more to his death.

  Driven by an overwhelming need for answers—and perhaps revenge—Aira stormed out of her apartment. She had no clear pn, only a need to do something, to sh out at the world that had taken him from her. Her heart pounded as she raced through the streets, unaware of where she was going, only that she was heading toward the heart of the city, where chaos and crime awaited her.

  As she moved through the alleyways and empty streets, she felt her anger rising. Her thoughts became disjointed, muddled. She barely noticed her surroundings until she reached the side of an old building, lost in the dark shadows of the night.

  She stopped, breathless, and for the first time, realized she wasn’t alone.

  A man stood in the shadows, his face obscured by the night. His presence was unsettling, and before she could react, his hand shot out, gently grasping her wrist.

  "Stop," the man said softly, his voice calm, familiar, but holding an undercurrent of something deeper, something she hadn’t heard in years.

  Aira froze, instinctively pulling back, but the man didn’t let go. Slowly, he stepped into the dim light of the streetmp above them. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked into his eyes, eyes she knew all too well.

  It was him.

  “Satsujin...” she whispered, her voice trembling.

  For a moment, her mind couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. She had seen the reports. He was dead. The body at the scene had been his—or so she thought. And yet, here he stood, very much alive, holding her in pce, his expression unreadable.

  The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet as reality unraveled around her.

  “How...” Aira began, her voice barely a whisper. “How are you alive?”

  Satsujin Sha—if that was truly him—smiled softly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you really think death would take me so easily?” His voice was calm, but ced with something darker, something that sent a chill through her bones.

  Aira’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing to make sense of what was happening. She had mourned him, had been ready to throw herself into madness, into crime, for him. And now... this?

  She tried to pull away again, but his grip tightened ever so slightly.

  “Why?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why you are doing the fake death ?”

  Satsujin’s expression shifted, something sinister flickering behind his eyes. “Because,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I meet to you from long time. And so do you.”

  The weight of his words settled over her like a shroud. The man she had loved, the man who had become a monster, wasn’t done. Not with her. Not with the world. And she—whether she wanted to or not—was still a part of his game.

  The city stretched out behind them, unaware of the dark reunion happening in its midst, unaware that Satsujin Sha had returned, and that Aira Kun was now bound to a fate she couldn’t escape.