The wail of sirens ripped through the night, echoing off the towering buildings. Red and blue lights flickered across the riverbank, illuminating the horror that had just surfaced. Police officers ran in coordinated chaos, their radios crackling with fragmented reports. An ambulance stood by, its back doors wide open, but there was no life left to save.
A crowd had gathered, whispering, crying, recoiling in disbelief. Some clutched their chests as though trying to contain the dread pooling inside them. Others simply stared, their minds frozen at the sight.
At the heart of the commotion sat Yuzuha, slumped in a cold steel chair inside the police station. Her body was still, but her eyes—her empty, hollow eyes—told of a mind shattered beyond repair. The news of Kenzo's death had torn through her like a blade, and now, she was nothing but a shell.
A detective entered, his presence cutting through the thick air of grief. Detective Yasagi, a private investigator with sharp eyes that missed nothing, stood before her.
"Yuzuha-san," he called, his voice firm yet careful.
She lifted her gaze, meeting his with an expressionless face, but her eyes swam with unshed tears.
"Can I ask you something?" Yasagi's voice was smooth but edged with authority.
Yuzuha let out a brittle breath. "What else is there to say?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I lost my friend."
And then, the dam broke. A choked sob escaped her lips. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she slammed them onto the desk.
"Why?" Her voice cracked, trembling with a mixture of sorrow and fury. "Why can't you find who did this?! Why is every goddamn police squad in Japan so useless?"
Her eyes burned with rage, glowing beneath the fluorescent lights.
Yasagi remained silent, letting her emotions spill. Then, gently, he placed a bottle of water in front of her.
"Calm down, Yuzuha-san," he said softly. "Drink."
She snatched the bottle, taking shaky sips as she tried to steady herself.
Once her breathing evened, Yasagi continued. "There's something you need to know about Kenzo's death."
Yuzuha wiped her tears away, her hands still trembling. "What do you mean?"
"The autopsy revealed something… unsettling." Yasagi's tone darkened. "Kenzo's body—externally—looked untouched. But internally?" He paused. "All of his vital organs… were missing."
A chilling silence fell between them.
Yuzuha's breath hitched. "W-What?"
"His kidneys, liver, heart—everything was surgically removed. Done with precision, as if by a professional."
Her stomach churned. The air felt heavier, suffocating. "Who would… who could do something like that?"
Yasagi exhaled. "Not just doctors. People with ties to the underground. Criminals that even politicians fear."
Yuzuha's fingers curled around the armrest of her chair. The world had never been kind—but this? This was monstrous.
Yasagi leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And there's more. Do you know Sanamiko Aoi?"
Yuzuha stiffened. The name struck her like a lightning bolt.
"A-Aoi?" Her voice trembled. "She… she's my best friend."
Yasagi's expression hardened. "We found Kenzo's phone." He hesitated, then added, "And inside… were messages. Photos. Explicit ones."
Yuzuha felt her world shatter.
Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath shallow. No. No, it couldn't be.
Kenzo and Aoi? Together? Lying, betraying, deceiving?
Yasagi studied her reaction. "We also discovered that Kenzo had relationships with several women. Some of them have gone missing—on the same day."
Yuzuha felt… nothing. Just a vast, hollow space where her emotions used to be.
Slowly, she stood. "If you need anything else…" she muttered. "Call me."
And with that, she walked out, leaving Yasagi staring after her. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. But that was what made it all the more terrifying.
The park was cloaked in darkness, its trees standing like silent sentinels under the void of the night sky. The only source of light flickered from distant street lamps, their glow struggling against the suffocating shadows.
Dametri sat alone on a bench, staring into the abyss of the night. He relished the silence, the stillness—until a sound interrupted him.
Laughter. Whispered promises. The sickly sweet murmur of betrayal.
Not far from him, a couple sat on the grass. Their hands intertwined, lips brushing against each other as they whispered secrets meant for no one else to hear.
"You have no idea how much pleasure you give me," the girl giggled, stroking the boy's hair.
The boy smirked. "Yumi could never do this for me. She's sexy, sure. But you…" His fingers trailed along the girl's arm. "I love spending time with you."
Dametri could have ignored them. He should have. But then…
The girl let out a cruel chuckle. "Yeah. Just like Usaba. I don't know why the fuck I even dated him. Can't wait to see his face when I break up with him."
Dametri froze.
A slow, burning rage coiled inside him. His fingers brushed against the hidden weight in his coat.
Betrayal. Lies. Deception. They were everywhere.
With chilling calmness, he stood, stepping toward them.
The couple was too lost in their sinful bliss to notice the shadow looming behind them.
And then—
A single, swift motion.
The sword sang.
A gleaming arc of steel slashed through the girl's throat, severing her head in an instant.
Her body convulsed. Blood painted the grass in gruesome strokes as her head tumbled onto the ground, her lips still parted from their last whisper.
For a moment, the boy didn't realize what had happened. He turned, confused. "Hey, why'd you stop?"
Then—his eyes fell on the lifeless, blood-drenched head beside him.
Terror consumed him.
His breath hitched. His hands trembled as he shoved the body away in horror. His mouth opened, but no words came—only a strangled gasp of pure fear.
Dametri smiled.
"Oh?" His voice was eerily calm. "I thought you loved her?"
The boy choked. His body shook as he stumbled back.
"Why did you throw her away, then?" Dametri tilted his head, his gaze hollow. "Didn't you just say you loved spending time with her?"
The boy's screams echoed through the night.
Dametri simply watched, a cruel smirk curling his lips.
Betrayal had its price.
And tonight, the reaper had come to collect.