Prologue
The crematorium was empty. Just him and his thoughts.
He didn't know what he'd expected. Who would attend a murderer's funeral? Except of course him. The executioner. The killer of killers. The guilty defending the innocent.
Of course, he had failed in that respect too. Eleven girls, all dead. And nearly Yamada.
Shouldn't he be here too? Wasn't this his fault too?
And where in the hell were the family? Had they failed too? Were they at fault also?
It was pointless wondering. Because as it was, the crematorium was empty.
Just him and his thoughts.
