The gymnasium echoed with the soft shuffle of feet on the floor as the P.E. class carried on. A group of three girls stood at the sidelines, their voices sharp with excitement. Dressed in their skin-tight gym clothes—a red t-shirt and ultra-short gym pants—they seemed to embody the image of Erito Institute’s elite students. Erito wasn’t just known for its rigorous academics; it also boasted the best-looking girls in the country, and everyone knew it.

As the girls gossiped, their conversation took a dark turn. They spoke in hushed whispers, as if savoring the drama of it all.

“Did you hear?” one of the girls asked, wide-eyed. “Hanji—he’s dead.”

Another girl gasped. “No way! But wasn’t he that bully from our class?”

“Yes. They say a gang beat him to death right in the middle of the road yesterday,” the third girl chimed in, her tone laced with fascination. “I heard he was making trouble with the wrong people. What kind of a bully gets taken down like that?”

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They chuckled, but there was a lingering unease in the air. The story of Hanji’s gruesome death had spread like wildfire across the school, turning the tragic incident into just another piece of gossip.

As the girls continued talking, their words barely registered with Kaito Arakawa. He was far from the crowd, standing on the edge of the school’s roof, staring down at the vast school grounds below. The day was darker than usual, the sky overcast with thick, gray clouds. A soft wind blew across his face, but his thoughts were clouded with something far heavier.

One gone.

He whispered the words under his breath, barely audible. His piercing gaze remained fixed on the grounds, his mind racing. What could a 17-year-old have done to be involved in something like a murder? Kaito’s thoughts were sharp, cold. He’d seen enough of the world’s darkness to know that nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.

But as the storm clouds gathered above, Kaito Arakawa’s face remained unreadable—his thoughts lost in a maze of uncertainty and calculation. The world he lived in was not kind. He knew that better than anyone.