The biggest trouble Riku faced wasn't a ghost.
It was the murderer hiding among the living.
He still remembered the night he had eliminated the Lake Ghost Hand. He had scanned the area thoroughly, senses sharpened by the system. No abnormalities. No presence beyond Mirai Kamishiro.
And yet…
Someone had watched him.
Riku narrowed his eyes. The system-enhanced perception wasn't foolproof, but it didn't miss much. He'd even stopped by the police station on the way home. So how did the murderer get his address?
How did they know exactly where he lived?
The question stuck like a thorn.
No answer came, only a growing certainty: something was off.
Riku tapped his phone, called Mirai. She picked up instantly.
They met again that afternoon at the entrance of Lake Park.
"Riku!" Mirai's voice carried with its usual bounce, her expression bright.
She jogged toward him, holding something behind her back.
When she reached him, she proudly presented two bento boxes. "Ta-da! Surprise! I made these for you. Homemade. You better eat it all!"
Riku accepted the box without so much as a blink. "Glad you could make it. You wanted to talk about something, right?"
Mirai grinned. "Hehe… Your intuition's always on point, huh?"
He didn't answer, only nodded faintly and weighed the bento in his hand.
After his physical enhancements, his appetite had grown with a vengeance. His body burned through energy fast—two, sometimes three times the intake of a normal adult. His frame was still growing, too, and food expenses were beginning to pile up.
They sat on a bench.
Mirai barely lasted ten seconds before blurting out, "Riku… did anything weird happen at your place yesterday?"
"Weird?" He opened the bento calmly. "Someone break into your place too?"
His casual tone hit her like a slap.
Mirai froze, mid-breath.
"You… knew?"
"I guessed."
She stared at him. Still, calm. Like nothing could touch him.
"If I didn't already know you weren't the culprit," she muttered, "I'd think you were the murderer."
"How do you know I'm not?"
That stopped her. Cold.
Her next words never made it out. Something in the air shifted—the sunlight still shone, but her skin prickled as if a shadow had passed over the world.
The warmth was gone.
Riku's voice dropped, tone flat and factual. "I've dissected a human before."
It wasn't loud. But it rang in her ear like a scalpel on bone.
Her breath caught. Her throat tightened as if laced with ice. She blinked. Once. Twice.
She turned, heart pounding. But Riku was still beside her, not even looking at her. Just gazing at the lake.
"Y-You're joking… right, Riku?"
"Yes. I'm joking."
The coldness lifted, just like that. The sun returned.
Mirai exhaled, long and slow. She laughed it off, though the tremble in her voice lingered.
"Haha… Then that whole dissected-a-human thing must be fake too, right?"
Riku didn't respond. He simply smiled.
And looked at her.
That smile made it worse.
She forced down the rest of her laughter and followed him as he stood up.
Without a word, he walked deeper into the park.
Mirai trailed behind, her brow furrowing. "…Wait. Isn't this the way to the lake?"
She didn't ask why he was going back.
Some part of her already knew.
Still, she followed.
And after a minute, her nervous silence gave way to chatter, like always.
Like nothing had changed.
But something had.
She just hadn't figured out what yet.
"Riku… am I the only one who knows about your strange abilities?"
"You are."
"What?" Mirai blinked. "You seem so wary around that police officer… So why not me? I could leak everything, you know. Tell people what you can do."
She tried to make it sound light, but even she could hear the tremble in her voice.
That moment, something clicked inside her.
Out of everyone, she was the only one who knew Riku had power beyond the ordinary. That had to mean something. Didn't it?
Trust?
Her heart stirred. Maybe he did trust her already.
She smiled, eyes softening.
Who would've thought? This serious-faced, thick-browed, sharp-eyed boy—Riku Fukuda—was such a reserved person underneath.
"Geez… if you trust me that much, you could've just told me sooner"
"You can tell the world," Riku interrupted. His gaze shifted lazily to her. "Whether they believe you is another matter."
Mirai stared at him, momentarily stung.
Before she could speak again, they had already reached the woods, deep into the part of the park that normal people avoided. Trees gathered like a congregation. Dead quiet. Windless.
Near the old cabin.
Riku stopped walking.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Ready for what?" Mirai tilted her head.
He glanced at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"To die."
"…Huh?" Her voice cracked.
She turned, but his attention wasn't on her anymore.
He was looking past her.
At the other girl who had been following them in silence.
Sakurazaka Yuki. The ghost of the girl killed my Mirai Kamishiro
He moved fast.
Before Mirai could scream, Riku was already behind her. A blow to the neck. She collapsed, eyes wide, mouth open, soundless.
He dragged her by the collar toward the old hunting cabin. The one the police had cleaned just a day before. LPolice tape from earlier still on hand, he used as roped. She was trussed like a hog, unconscious.
Inside the cabin still lingered the dry stink of blood, like rusted coins and butchered meat. Shadows clung to the corners. Mold in the air.
Riku pulled out a surgical knife from Mirai's bag.
Plastic gloves already on his hands.
He sat down cross-legged across from the unconscious girl, twirling the knife between his fingers.
Moments later, Mirai stirred.
She groaned, head lifting—and froze when her eyes met Riku's.
"You got anything to say for yourself, panty thief?"
Mirai coughed out a laugh. "What's the point of asking questions like that? How you guessed it was me?? I didn't care from the start."
She smiled, teeth red from where she'd bitten her own tongue.
"I've wanted to cut you up for a while now. But you—Mr. Fukuda—you were slippery. No openings at all. I didn't think I could win. And then, that day… you showed up behind me like some urban legend. I swear, I nearly pissed myself."
She laughed again. Unhinged.
"Oh, how I wish I'd burned down your house while you slept."
Mirai's voice cracked into something animal.
"Come on! Kill me! You win! That's how this works, right? You caught the killer—now dissect me! I've sliced up so many people, but I've never been dissected before. Show me what you've got. Or was that all just a bluff? If so, I'll guide you. Want me to start with the sternum? I won't bite, doctor—!"
Her laughter spiraled—high, shrill, unnatural.
Riku didn't even flinch.
"…I won't do it."
His voice was even, detached. Cold and clinical.
"I told you already. I see spirits. I'll leave your judgment to them."
Mirai froze.
"What…?"
"That's all you need to know."
He stood.
There was no need to say more.
If it hadn't been part of the mission, he would've walked away without a word.
⸻
(Chain Missiom Complete: Killer Subdued)
(Reward: [Spiritual Digger])
⸻
Now that the system had confirmed it, there was no more reason to stay.
And yet—
The air around the cabin twisted.
As if answering Riku's decision, the world itself began to distort.
Black-grey scorch marks coiled along the rotting wooden walls, writhing like living tendrils. A smell of burnt death oozed from the cracks.
Mirai stopped breathing.
Her pupils shrank.
"…W-What is this…?"
She tried to twist her body, heart thudding.
That scent—she knew it.
The heavy, greasy scent of burnt flesh. The kind she had grown used to over countless dissections.
But this time, it wasn't under her knife.
This time, she was the specimen.
A stillness crawled across the floor like a fog.
Suffocating.
Mirai thrashed.
The ropes didn't give.
Her weapons were gone—collected, pocketed. Her strength was nothing. Her control, gone.
Thud… thud… thud…
Something heavy moved just beyond her sight.
The ground pulsed.
The walls breathed.
Mirai turned to Riku.
Still expressionless.
Still human-shaped, but somehow less than a man.
Her scream ripped through the cabin.
"You—what are you trying to—!"
Her words cut off.
Something fell near her.
A shadow.
A shape.
She looked up.
A mouth.
No, not a mouth—a demon.
Teeth like ivory needles. Faces—blonde, bloated, half-melted—dangled around it like ornaments. From the pit, hands reached. Too many. Writhing. Wanting.
Mirai saw her death in that moment.
The truth of her crimes reflected back in the grinning faces.
Then—
Darkness.
Her scream became memory.
⸻
Riku left the cabin after calling the police, leaving the evidence and the girl—dead or alive—bound to the floor.
He didn't look back.
It wasn't his concern anymore.
The dead would handle the rest.