His crimson eyes, which saw through human nature, easily pierced the reporter’s puzzled heart. Mirror October slightly tugged his hood, as if observing. Like his infamous codename Saw—the Seer—his gaze held a peculiar magic. It made her feel every last shred of disguise slowly stripped away beneath his stare.
Being understood, watched, and forcibly bared like this made the reporter shiver uncontrollably. She even wondered if she’d done something wrong to anger this lawless criminal before her. Just as her thoughts spiraled, Mirror October’s soft, pitying chuckle cut through the tension.
“Heh heh heh, Miss Reporter. My thanks carry no hidden meaning—you likely misunderstood. You gave me no illegal aid in this case. What I truly meant was… thank you. You’ve restored a tiny bit of my faith in humanity.” When a merciless god is moved by a tiny human, Mirror October never hesitated to voice his gratitude. Even if she remained clueless, he found her utterly adorable.
Yes—he thought her incredibly cute.
“Ah ha, ha ha…” She let out an awkward laugh, adorably sticking her tongue out at him. But she quickly realized the gesture was wildly inappropriate. Blushing faintly, she straightened her posture, regaining her literary maiden composure.
The scene felt like a merciless god falling for a martyred nun. Clinging to his twisted, misunderstood justice, he’d stumbled upon the most beautiful sight in this desolate world.
“The game has ended,” Mirror October murmured. “This forgotten one should take his leave. I hope you still shine with that captivating grace when we meet again. Remember, Miss Reporter: in the unseen darkness, we—Jigsaw Disciples—are always watching. I—Justice—may be late, but I’ll never miss a game…”
As he spoke, his figure slowly approached through the thin rain veil. He stopped directly before her. “…In films, departing characters often receive a farewell kiss. Might you grant me one, Miss Reporter?”
“Eh! Eh-eh-uh!! How… why say this now…” Her fingers tapped together nervously. Flustered and adorably lost, she couldn’t decide whether to refuse or agree.
“Heh heh heh. If it troubles you, refuse.” He chuckled lowly but didn’t tease further. This off-duty literary maiden was too endearingly clueless. “Farewell, Miss Reporter… We’ll meet again. I believe in your persistence…”
Suddenly, his form blurred in the drizzle, yet his pale-lipped smile sharpened. She saw it—the most dangerous super-criminal, heartbreakingly young. Regret flooded her: she’d hesitated when he asked for that kiss. She… admired this criminal who pursued justice by any means.
*I believe we’ll meet again. Absolutely. So when that day comes, I’ll give you my first kiss, Saw…* Silently vowing this, she touched her cold nose and clenched her fists.
---
Between sleep and wakefulness, Xu Mo stirred, staring blankly at the ceiling. Since the tragedy a year ago, he hadn’t slept so soundly. His last memory was sinking into death’s darkness—but now…
“Am I dead?” Xu Mo wondered. With so many poison-laced shotgun pellets in his body, survival should’ve been impossible. He wasn’t a Superhero—just an ordinary man.
“Congratulations, Xu Mo. You survived the game.” Mirror October’s voice filled the room. “Facing the darkness manipulating this nation’s judiciary, investigations, public opinion—even justice itself—you never wavered under their bribes. You fought back with your insignificant strength, launching that laughably foolish revenge. The game is over. You grasped its true purpose: justice that persists until death.”
He’d battled bureaucrats, lackeys, criminal syndicates—even the military and Superheroes. Yet Xu Mo, the man who lost his wife and daughter, had persevered alone. Mirror October admired that. He removed his hood, revealing his startlingly young face.
“The game ended… What about my enemies?” Xu Mo rasped.
“The so-called Superhero died disgraced. His family turned to ashes in the game. His game failed. You, Xu Mo—you cling to life. What now?” Mirror October gazed calmly at Xu Mo’s corpse-like form. He’d rescued him, but only an empty shell remained.
After everything collapsed, Xu Mo didn’t know why he lived. Dying there might’ve been better.
“I don’t know…”
“Heh heh heh. I dislike playing godfather, but often must. This world overflows with injustice and tears. Superheroes wildly misunderstand their role—they think power is for oppression and privilege… but they’re wrong.” Mirror October’s cool hand rested on Xu Mo’s forehead, washing away his confusion. Xu Mo felt it deeper than anyone.
“A Superhero isn’t an excuse to wash away crimes. Privileges don’t make evil heroes. The law may spare them—but we won’t.” Sincere devotion sparked in Xu Mo’s numb eyes. Gentle warmth flickered in Mirror October’s blood-crimson gaze.
“Join our cause, Xu Mo.”
Xu Mo bowed his head devoutly. He couldn’t refuse. A year ago, this man had helped him in secret. He’d give his remaining life to this ideal—even if propaganda painted Saw as utterly evil.
“Saw! Central Bureau agents are closing in!” A calm, powerful voice cut from outside. Pursuers had arrived as expected. SS-Class criminal Saw—Superheroes would hunt him like sharks scenting blood, mad with rage.
