1:11 a.m. — beneath a bridge in West Ikebukuro.
Kanekawa Ryūnosuke killed the engine of his bike. His lungs burned, breath ragged and wet. The hunt—Kiryu Dou Tang's hunt—had made one thing painfully clear:
he'd provoked something he never should have. And now, he didn't know how to survive it.
He pulled out his phone. For the past half hour, no one had called him— only messages.
Hundreds of them, from different numbers. Each one said the same thing:
Where are you?
The flood of identical texts filled his notification bar like a curse. He didn't need to think hard to know what they meant.
Behind every message was someone Dou Tang had already found— beaten, broken, and left unconscious on the ground.
And now—
he was coming for him.
Kanekawa's eyes darted around the darkness beneath the bridge, terrified that Dou Tang might materialize from the shadows like some silent demon.
It was quiet here. Too quiet.
He exhaled shakily—almost believing he was safe. That was when a light flickered on.
A single motorcycle headlamp flared in the darkness. Kanekawa raised a hand to shield his eyes—
and saw her.
Not Dou Tang. A woman.
Thin. Slight.
Relief flooded him for one fleeting moment— until she spoke.
"Good evening."
The voice was smooth and teasing, yet it froze his blood solid. He knew that voice.
His lips trembled.
"L-Lu… Miss Lu?"
Lu Zizhen stepped out from behind the bike, her face hidden behind a mask, moving with unhurried grace.
"You boys were even more useless than I thought," she said lightly.
"But at least you managed to piss him off. Good job. I came to give you your reward."
Kanekawa stumbled back, jaw clenched. Fear and fury tangled in his chest.
"Miss Lu! You knew what that monster was—how strong he was! Why didn't you warn us? Because of you, Onigashima—"
"Ah, ah, ah."
She raised a hand, wagging her finger.
"Don't dump your failures on me, sweetheart. You never asked, did you? You made your choices. I didn't make them for you."
Her tone was sweet as honey, cold as steel.
"And I did compliment you, didn't I?" she added with a soft laugh.
"You really did make him angry. That's the first time I've seen him like that."
Something in her voice sent a chill down his spine.
He edged toward his motorcycle, one slow step at a time. Lu Zizhen tilted her head, as though pondering a riddle.
"Tell me, Kanekawa-kun," she murmured. "Have you ever realized that you're a villain?"
He turned the key— Nothing.
The bike didn't even cough. Dead.
No matter how he twisted the throttle, it wouldn't start. Her smile sharpened.
"Villains should always be ready for retribution, don't you think? Ever wonder how a man like you ought to die?"
Her words dripped like poison.
"How many girls did you hurt, Kanekawa-kun? You think no one knows? I know. I know everything."
She gave a low, disdainful chuckle as two telescopic batons slid from beneath her sleeves. With a flick of her wrists—snap!—the twin rose-gold rods extended, gleaming faintly in the dark.
Sweat rolled into Kanekawa's eyes, stinging. His whole body trembled. "People need desire," she went on softly. "You had yours.
But people also need awareness—like me."
Her footsteps echoed on the concrete—slow, playful, predatory. A cat toying with a mouse before the kill.
"If you're going to be evil, you have to understand you'll never meet a good end. I know I won't."
She smiled beneath her mask.
"One day, I'll pay for everything I've done. But I don't intend to die quietly. So I've chosen the perfect death for myself.
What about you, Kanekawa-kun?"
He stumbled off the dead bike, panic finally taking over.
He turned and sprinted for the open night beyond the bridge. Something whistled through the air.
Pain exploded in the back of his skull.
He crashed forward, vision flashing white, as Lu Zizhen's thrown baton clattered to the ground beside him.
Then—
a hand grabbed his ankle.
He was dragged backward, gravel scraping against his skin, pulled helplessly into the suffocating dark.
He tried to scream— but no sound came out.
It was as if his voice had been stolen. She wanted him silent.
She wanted him to listen.
"I've lost count," she said softly, "of how many like you I've dealt with. At first, it was self-defense—
a cornered immigrant girl, all alone in a country that wanted to crush her.
When you're weak, men like you always think you can touch us, hurt us, own us." Her tone turned wistful, almost gentle.
"But then… after a while, it changes. You stop knowing what else to do.
Like you street punks with nothing but your bikes, I stopped knowing what else I was good for.
Evil stopped being an option. It became the answer."
She laughed quietly—self-mockery disguised as amusement.
Then she sat down on his back, her weight pressing him into the gravel.
Her gloved fingers found his face, tracing up to his eyes.
She brushed his trembling eyelids almost tenderly, as if memorizing him by touch.
"And you start to wonder," she whispered, "what comes next. What kind of future could you even have?
Keep living as a monster?"
"Kanekawa-kun… I had such a good upbringing, you know.
Back home, I was the eldest daughter. A model student. A good girl." She sighed.
"I've been quiet for half a year now. Everyone's been asking where I went. But only I know.
I've been looking for my grave."
Her eyes turned toward the river, watching the faint shimmer of city lights ripple on its surface.
Her fingers kept tracing his face, exploring its contours like a blind woman learning a stranger's features.
"So many people want me dead," she murmured. "My sister still hunts for me. But I don't want to die ordinary.
I want to die spectacularly." Her eyes gleamed behind the mask.
"I'll make him into a monster," she whispered, voice trembling with something like joy.
"Just like me.
And someday, he'll kill me.
Or maybe I'll fail to turn him before he learns what I am—and he'll kill me anyway. Either way… I'll die by his hand."
Her tone softened into something dreamlike. "That's the best ending I can imagine."
She leaned close to his ear.
"What about you, Kanekawa-kun?
Have you ever thought about how you'll die?" He couldn't think. Couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
The only thought looping through his head was:
She's insane. She's completely insane.
He had to run. He had to—
But then her fingers hooked beneath his eyelids— and began to press.
A muffled scream tore from his throat. His body convulsed, pain consuming everything.
Her voice floated above his shuddering:
"I'll make him a walking hell…
the crowned beast of this rotten city.
And when that hell rises, it'll swallow me whole. That's all I have left to do."
There was a soft, wet sound. Then—silence.
Lu Zizhen sighed.
Her gloves dripped red.
From her pocket, she drew a slip of paper— a talisman.
"Goodbye, Kanekawa-kun," she said gently. "We've both disappointed the world, haven't we?
Too cowardly to live normal lives…
so we just keep going, farther and farther down the wrong road." She flicked her wrist.
The talisman ignited, blooming into orange flame. It landed on his motionless body—
and burned.
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