In the dead of night, Seiran Hoshi knelt in a dark apartment room, her sniper rifle protruding from a window.
Less than 600 yards away…
Through her scope, she fixated on the rider of a motorcycle speeding down the street. With a squeeze of the trigger, she fired a bullet straight through the visor of the rider's helmet.
The bullet tore through the goggles, exploding a mist of blood inside the helmet.
The rider immediately lost control, crashing and tumbling across the pavement.
To ensure the target wouldn't survive, Seiran Hoshi calmly adjusted her scope and fired a second shot—this time into the back of his chest.
No hesitation. No waste.
Gun quickly disassembled and stowed, she was already heading for her next target.
Three.That was the number of victims tonight.All were members of the Black Organization—the infamous "winery."
What neither the Organization nor Seiran Hoshi knew, however, was that each of her "targets" had been manipulated into place by Hayashi Yoshiki himself. Lured, timed, and delivered to her gun.
This elaborate set-up ensured Seiran Hoshi could eliminate her targets efficiently, without fear of being ambushed by Gin and his men during her operation.
Still, the steadily increasing death toll among lower-level operatives had Gin boiling with rage.
Lately, he and his men had been storming "Zoo" hideouts (the rival network), only to find half the people they killed were those already compromised by Hayashi Yoshiki—walking corpses, thrown to their deaths on purpose.
As the body count rose, the animosity between the Organization and the Zoo escalated into an all-out shadow war.
A Soft Voice After Violence
Having completed her fifth kill of the night, Seiran Hoshi tapped her earpiece.
"Target eliminated. Awaiting further orders."
"Good work," came Hayashi Yoshiki's warm, always-gentle tone.
"Go take a hot bath and get some rest, Miss Seiran."
As the line disconnected, Seiran Hoshi stared at the quiet screen, dazed for a moment.
New Targets, New Games
No sooner had Yoshiki hung up than his phone lit up again.
"Mr. Hayashi~ I'm starting my operation tomorrow."
"Then be careful not to smudge your scope with makeup," he replied playfully.
Her tone was sweet—too sweet. Reiko's voice shimmered with something between flirtation and giddiness.
Tomorrow, she would eliminate Shoji Nishio.
The plan was elegant: First, she'd snipe Masaharu Nishio in his office. Then, she'd lure Ito Suehiko—her supposed partner—to the same location, letting him fire blindly at the already-dead body. With his nerves and guilt manipulated just right, he'd be convinced that he had done the killing himself and come to take credit for it.
But in the original case, it was a small, ridiculous mistake—mascara residue on the scope—that led to Reiko's downfall.
Now, feeling recognized and cared for by Mr. Hayashi, she was determined not to mess up.
"I even prepared some special clothes tonight, Mr. Hayashi…"
"Haha, Reiko, you really are a charming woman."
"But I'm busy this evening. Let's celebrate after your mission succeeds."
Click. The call ended.
Amuro Tooru now managed the agency, freeing Yoshiki from the tedium of everyday detective work. Whenever new cases came in, Amuro would report directly to him.
Sometimes, he even acted as a chauffeur.
Koizumi Akako: "Reply to my messages!! NOW!!!"
Yoshiki glanced at it—and ignored it.
She had already sent six or seven messages in the past few days, all attempts to provoke a reply after storming off in frustration. She was still trying to convince him he had feelings for her.
He figured he'd let her reach message eleven or twelve before finally responding, just to pull her closer when she thought she'd given up.
Another message.This time: Shimizu Reiko again.A photo.
She was standing by the window in seductive attire—high heels, fishnet stockings, tight lingerie hugging her curves.
The focus of the camera was unmistakable: the peach-like curve of her rear, enhanced by her posture. Her hands stretched behind her, adjusting the fabric as her thigh glowed under the light.
It was alluring, yes.
But Hayashi Yoshiki didn't reply.
A New Client, A Familiar Name
He tore a page from his Death Note, intending to conduct an experiment.
But before he could write, the phone rang again.
"Hello? Boss?" Amuro's voice.
"We've got a client who just showed up. She wants us to help find someone."
"At this hour?" Yoshiki glanced at the clock. It was already 9 p.m.
"Yeah, she called the agency line I left. I figured I'd come and greet her. But this case might be… worth your attention."
"She's the daughter of Niina Rentaro."
Hayashi Yoshiki raised an eyebrow.
Of course, he knew the name. The fictional Ronin-style detective with a wooden sword had been hugely influential—and wildly popular.
It had even shaped the likes of Heiji Hattori, indirectly or not.
"Understood. I'll head over now."
Yoshiki glanced at the torn page of the Death Note, then slipped it into his notebook.
Perfect timing. He could use this chance to test something.
Back at the agency, the client sat on the couch anxiously twisting her fingers.
"What did Mr. Hayashi say…?" she asked nervously.
Amuro Tooru gave her a calm smile.
"Good news. He's on his way."
"Mr. Hayashi usually turns down missing person cases or refers them elsewhere. But it looks like you're the exception, Miss Kaori Shinmei."
The woman's eyes widened.
She looked relieved, but beneath the surface, something trembled.
Hayashi Yoshiki was coming. And the game was about to change again.