Only a couple of widely spaced streetlights cast a dim glow, their feeble light barely illuminating the road.

Hidemi Kojima didn’t lean against the wall of the half-built ruin. Instead, she stood alone inside its hollow shell, her face tight with impatience as she glared at the empty street.

She glanced toward the distant city skyline, ablaze with lights just a kilometer or two away. Yet here, utter desolation reigned.

After reading that note, she’d taken a taxi straight to this godforsaken place. Now, looking back, she realized she must have been out of her mind.

Just seeing the printed words on that slip of paper had sent goosebumps rippling across her skin.

*Who could have slipped this into her wallet without her noticing?!*

Though she usually left her bag in the crowded teachers’ office, it was rarely empty. Slipping something into her *bag* might be easy—but into her *wallet*? That meant someone had rummaged through her things, found her wallet, and planted it.

*Who was it?!*

And what did the note mean—*"I know who framed you"*?

A faint memory surfaced: Eiko Sakurai twirling a voice recorder in the principal’s office.

Whoever recorded her so clearly must have been inside the staff room that day.

*One of the teachers.*

Faces flashed through Hidemi’s mind.

*Him?*

*Him?*

*Or her?*

Each one seemed capable of setting her up. She had no clue how disliked she was—only that everyone must envy her talent and want her ruined.

A cold wind made her shiver. She tugged her sleeves tighter.

Only then did she realize the note had given a location—but no time.

Her mind had been mush; she’d rushed here blindly!

What if it was just a prank? A setup to humiliate her?

The more she thought, the more certain she became. Her teeth clenched. Her face twisted with rage.

Today had already been hell—and now *this*?

With a sharp *"pthooey!"*, she spat on the ground like a curse.

Just as she turned to leave, rustling footsteps echoed behind her.

*The note-sender.* She whirled around, ready to tear them apart with words.

But the dim room behind her was empty.

Her hair stood on end.

Slowly, trembling, she turned her head back.

A shadowy figure stood before her. Unseen. Unheard.

*Ah—!*

Hidemi tried to scream. A cloth clamped over her mouth and nose, smothering the sound. The sharp scent of *** flooded her senses. Her vision darkened. She slumped.

Consciousness returned slowly.

The dose must have been light—she hadn’t been out long. Dizziness churned in her skull. Nausea clawed at her throat. Her airways burned from the ***.

But worse—her situation.

Rough rope bound her wrists behind a wooden chair’s back. Her ankles were lashed to its legs.

Streetlight barely seeped into the ruin’s depths. The derelict building loomed around her. Her mind raced to news reports of serial killings.

Panic surged. She rocked the chair violently.

*CRASH!*

It toppled, slamming her onto the floor. Pain contorted her face.

*"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"*

Her voice, usually shrill, came out weak and ragged. She writhed like a worm on the cold concrete.

No one would hear her here. Despair swallowed her whole.

Vile curses echoed through the abandoned building.

Then—footsteps. Outside. Growing closer.

She fell silent, straining toward the entrance.

A passerby? Or her attacker?

As the figure passed the doorway, the weak streetlight revealed their face.

Relief flooded Hidemi’s eyes.

*"Teacher Shanwu! Help me!"*

The figure paused. Turned slowly toward the darkness inside.

Streetlight cast shadows across Shanwu Lingsheng’s face, hiding her expression.

In her hands, a bouquet of vibrant roses glowed against the night. She lowered her head, inhaling their fragrance softly.

She looked like a girl rushing to meet her lover.

*"Untie me, Teacher Shanwu! Please!"*

Hidemi’s voice turned urgent. She’d never treat this woman kindly unless she needed something. And what was with the roses? Prancing around at night like some lovesick fool—*who was she trying to seduce?*

Shanwu Lingsheng stepped closer.

Hidemi’s desperation grew with every footfall.

Shanwu stopped before her. Looked down at the bound, writhing woman.

Hidemi forced a pleading smile.

*"Please untie me! We need to leave—now! What if the serial killer from the news is nearby—"*

*Heh.*

A soft laugh cut her off.

Shanwu’s lips curled into a smirk—arrogant, unguarded. Gone was the gentle literature teacher from school.

She leaned down, her sharp brown eyes raking over Hidemi. Her features, delicate yet strikingly defined, shed their usual softness. All that remained was cold calculation.

In those eyes, Hidemi saw her own ragged reflection—and Shanwu’s mocking amusement.

*She wasn’t going to help.*

*How selfish!*

*Just untying her—such a small thing!*

*This was no better than murder!*

Shanwu straightened. Brought the roses to her nose again, savoring their scent. She glanced sideways at Hidemi.

Another soft laugh.

She turned toward the exit. At the doorway, she paused. Looked back with a dismissive flick of her eyes.

*"Heh heh heh…"*

Her voice remained smooth as spring breeze.

*"Teacher Kojima…"*

*"You call for my help…"*

*"And I must save you…?"*

Ignoring the torrent of curses behind her, Shanwu Lingsheng walked away, the roses vivid against the night.

Silence returned.

Then—footsteps again. Outside.

*Had that bitch changed her mind?*

Hidemi opened her mouth to scream insults—

—but froze.

The figure in the doorway made her whole body tremble. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Tall. Cloaked in black.

A hideous black *oni* mask covered its face.

In its hand, a gleaming silver hacksaw.

And a pair of new iron pliers.