"Are you kidding me…?"
When the man struck by the shrapnel collapsed powerlessly, a wave of disbelief surged through everyone present.
He died—just like that?
The screams erupting from every direction failed to rouse the police from their stunned confusion. They stood still, watching as the man fell and grew silent. Then, suddenly, everything fell apart.
Even the entire sequence of the victim's death made no logical sense—
Everyone stood frozen, their eyes meeting, dread creeping slowly up their spines.
Was it a coincidence?
Could it really have been just that?
"Call an ambulance—quick!"
"Ah—yes! An ambulance!"
The police scrambled in panic.
Some immediately flashed their badges and began evacuating the surrounding civilians, while others pulled out their phones to call for emergency services.
Detective Hakuba dashed toward the fallen victim.
He knelt beside the body, and with only a cursory examination, his expression froze.
The metal fragment had pierced directly into the brain through the eye socket.
No signs of foul play. No clear external cause.
The man had died right in front of everyone—because of a random accident.
Hakuba stared at the lifeless body.
He desperately rewound the events in his mind, retracing each second: the flickering lights, the traffic jam, the chaos… beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
"Stop it. Don't push yourself so hard."
A hand landed gently on Hakuba's shoulder.
Suddenly, the usually composed detective dropped to the ground.
He always carried himself like a noble young master. But now, even his eyes looked dazed, confused…
"There's no flaw," came Hayashi Yoshiki's calm voice.
Hakuba looked up and saw Hayashi's gaze fixed on the corpse. His deep-black eyes seemed to etch the scene permanently into memory.
There was a flicker of frustration in his expression.
Was this Hayashi Yoshiki's first true failure as a detective?
—The message left behind by the killer in the previous cases… it hadn't been a clue.
An invitation for ridicule.
Even a mind like Hayashi's had failed to catch anything. Could this even be the work of a human being?
A dark cloud settled over Hakuba's thoughts.
The ambulance arrived swiftly.
The victim's body was covered with a white sheet and carried off. The white car was towed for investigation.
Now the police and the task force would examine the victim's identity, background, his vehicle, his route—everything.
"And the reason for the sudden traffic light failure…" murmured Hayashi.
"Even within that five-minute window, we can catalog the license plates involved in the jam."
"The odds are low, but what if the murderer was right there in the congestion?" he added.
His words were calm, precise—and the plainclothes officers subconsciously began acting on them.
Hakuba was silent for a while.
He looked at Hayashi, who stood deep in thought, seemingly unfazed.
"…Do you really think we can catch someone ?"
"But no matter how strange, coincidental, or 'impossible' the method may seem, it doesn't erase the fact: this was murder."
Hayashi Yoshiki looked directly at the shaken Hakuba and added calmly:
"If there's a murderer, there's a way to find him—and arrest him. Even if we can't find flaws right now, even if we're short on leads—we can't just sit back and let him walk free."
After a moment of silence, Hakuba let out a sudden smile.
"You look fired up. Are you that mad about being made a fool of?"
"Yeah. It's the first time I've been this humiliated," Hayashi replied without hesitation.
In Hakuba's eyes, the so-called accidental killer was mocking them.
They'd been led here—but only to act out his script. They couldn't stop it. They couldn't even guess who the next victim would be.
"I was thinking… if we had just blocked off the street with officers before it all started—"
"It might have disrupted the plan, yes," Hayashi replied. "But without knowing the killer's identity, it's impossible to say whether that would've led to something even worse."
Hakuba considered that possibility.
If the killer truly was a perfectionist with a flair for performance… ruining his masterpiece might drive him to something even more dangerous.
Suddenly, Hakuba's phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID and stepped aside.
Hayashi watched his surroundings.
He could see that several plainclothes officers were already visibly shaken.
After all, the murderer might still be out there, watching from the shadows. If their identities were exposed, they might be next.
A few minutes later, Hakuba returned from the call.
"Hayashi, my father wants to meet with you. He'd like to hear your thoughts."
"Probably sometime in the next two days. Will that work?"
"As long as it's not on the weekend, I'm free."
Hakuba's expression turned serious again.
"Right now, we can only wait on the results of the investigation. I'll share anything new with you."
"Maybe I'll be part of the task force by then."
Hakuba gave a resigned sigh—clearly aware that his father's ban on him attending the scene might extend to joining the task force.
Hayashi Yoshiki noticed, and offered a light smile.
"Maybe it's just because you're still underage."
Shortly after, Hayashi parted ways with Hakuba.
Time for a rare moment of free time—
He took out his phone and called Okino Yoko with a smile.
"Hello, Yoshiki-kun?" came a cheerful voice from the other end.
"Is the shoot over yet, Yoko?"
"Yeah! I should be done in about thirty minutes."
"I'll come pick you up. How about we go to that restaurant you mentioned last time?"
Hayashi Yoshiki ended the call with a soft grin.