The cool, sterile air of the morgue hung heavy as Satsujin Sha—disguised as Yamamoto San—stood over the body of his friend Kazuhiro. The solemn silence between him and the police officer escorting him was only broken by the occasional hum of distant machines, creating a false sense of peace. For a brief moment, Satsujin allowed himself to blend into the role of a grieving brother. But the chilling weight of his real purpose remained sharp in his mind.

  As they exited the morgue and passed through the hospital’s narrow, dimly lit hallways, the officer accompanying Satsujin seemed rexed, still swayed by the false sense of trust he had granted to the man who had presented himself as a brother. In contrast, Satsujin’s thoughts were racing—his next move already set in motion.

  Just before reaching the hospital’s main exit, Satsujin slowed his pace, letting the officer walk ahead by a few steps. He could feel the concealed weight of the silenced pistol hidden in his jacket. With a quick, almost imperceptible motion, Satsujin pulled the gun from its holster, took aim, and fired.

  The gun’s suppressed sound was barely audible, a soft thud echoing in the hallway as the officer crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest. His wide eyes locked onto Satsujin’s, filled with disbelief and shock. Satsujin stood over him, watching as life slowly drained from the officer’s face. In a low, emotionless voice, he whispered, "This is where your journey ends."

  Satsujin stepped over the body calmly, making his way toward the hospital’s back exit. The sound of arms or chaos hadn’t reached him yet—no one had witnessed the murder. He needed to be swift; he couldn’t afford any mistakes. He walked through the back entrance of the hospital unnoticed, blending seamlessly into the bustling city beyond. The rain poured heavily now, erasing his presence from the scene, as if he had never been there.