"I'll handle the dishes tonight."
"Oh? Now that's unusual."
Light accepted the coat Makima handed him and draped it over his shoulders. He zipped it up and put on a solid black mask. Then, in the moment Makima wasn't watching, he slipped the Death Note back into his cram school bag.
"Security's been kind of rough lately. Do you want me to drive you?" Makima sipped her tea, back turned to him, seated on the sofa.
"No need to trouble a Chief Inspector just to drive me to cram school."
"Then... how about letting one of the patrol captains escort you?"
"It's fine. My self-defense skills are decent enough. Besides, the safety in the Central Ward hasn't deteriorated to the point where I need a patrol captain escort just to step outside."
It was clear Makima genuinely cared about Light's safety. The public security situation had gotten bad enough to warrant "don't go out unless necessary" warnings. Still, Light firmly declined her offer. He wasn't about to let her intrude on the most precious part of his daily life—his private time. If Makima got involved, all sense of privacy would be lost.
"Well then, just be careful~"
"You too, Makima-san. Make sure you get enough rest."
Fully geared up, Light stepped out the door.
As Japan's top student, Yagami Light had no real need for a cram school to maintain his academic performance. That level of study? He could surpass it just by flipping through advanced textbooks at home.
Then why does he still go out for tutoring after dinner?
Makima is perfect in every way—except her controlling nature is a bit too strong.
If he doesn't take advantage of this bit of free time after dinner to do something... Yagami Light normally wouldn't have any chance to go out. Where he goes and what he does must all be reported to Makima. He paid double the normal fees to strike a deal with the cram school, making the relevant personnel cooperate with him and coordinate their statements. Only then did he manage to secure three hours of free time.
Yagami Light put on his hoodie, pulled up a mask, grabbed his bag, and walked alone down a narrow path.
It was easy to notice that the pedestrian traffic at this time was much lighter than usual. With public order deteriorating and crime rates soaring, the police's warnings carried significant weight. "Do not go out unless necessary" was far from an empty slogan.
After walking for about ten minutes, Yagami Light arrived at a crossroad. Straight ahead led to the cram school. To the left was his usual route.
Yagami Light pulled out his phone and browsed the news from this morning: "At 11 PM last night, the body of a man in his 30s was found in a pool of blood in an alley in Chiba's central district. The corpse appeared to have been mauled by a beast. This marks the fourth 'beast killing' incident this year. We will continue to follow the police investigation."
His post-dinner routine was to investigate and monitor "criminal suspects."
As for this case, the clues Yagami Light got from the police were few: only that "the suspect has androgynous short hair" and "was wearing a red jacket with a white collar." In a population of eight million in Chiba, finding someone matching just those two traits was like finding a needle in a haystack.
But...
Yagami Light already had someone he suspected.
Her name was Ryōgi Shiki.
She was something like a cross-generational friend to Yagami Light.
Whether it was the time of the crime, the hairstyle, or the outfit, she matched the suspect's profile perfectly. Especially that red jacket with the white collar—it had been personally gifted to her by Yagami Light.
"Please... don't let it be you."
That usually silent, aloof woman had left a deep impression in Yagami Light's heart. This was the first time he truly hoped someone wasn't guilty.
If Ryōgi Shiki had killed someone who deserved death—scum beyond redemption—Yagami Light would have supported her without hesitation. But the victims in this string of murders were all innocent—children, pregnant women, hardworking middle-aged people supporting families...
In his phone calendar, the task labeled "59" glowed brightly—he had been monitoring Ryōgi Shiki for nearly two months. Yet every incident had occurred after he finished his surveillance.
All the clues seemed to point to this woman named Ryōgi Shiki, and she had never once tried to defend herself. Even so, Yagami Light refused to believe she was the killer, and continued his daily two-hour surveillance routine.
However, today, besides watching Ryōgi Shiki, Yagami Light had something else he wanted to do. He wanted to pick a lucky person to test just how far this so-called "manipulation of cause of death" could go.
Before today's access upgrade, the Death Note he had could only do one thing—write a name, and cause the target to die of cardiac arrest within ten seconds. But this new upgrade might finally allow Yagami Light's budding ideas to take shape. For instance—could he add a prefix before the death? A precondition that must be met before death occurs.
Cardiac arrest? What triggered the arrest? Was it a shocking visual that triggered it? Or was it caused by an accident? Even with the same cause of death, there were many ways to achieve it. Under human imagination, there were still many fascinating death scenarios Yagami Light wanted to try.
Self-immolation, drowning, falling from heights, suffocation... he wanted to develop a full private punishment system, customized according to the severity of each sinner's crimes.
This is... amazing!
Though the upgrade was still relatively basic, Yagami Light's goal wasn't complicated either—he just wanted to announce to the world the birth of a Shinigami.
Something like...
Yagami Light rubbed his chin, lost in thought. "What should I do? Draw a special symbol?"
"A scythe? Feels a bit cliché. A swastika? I'm not that kind of Shinigami. A cross? I'm not the God of Christianity."
Suddenly, the image of Makima's holy yet seductive face came to his mind, and he blurted out:
"Then... I'll draw an M."
"Makima~"
Under the nightfall in Chiba, an eerie silence settled over the city. Few people were around, with only occasional flute notes proving that the city was still alive.
Arriving at a famous cross-sea bridge, the dim yellow streetlights were already on. The once busy bridge had now nearly reached a standstill, with the sound of tires on the pavement coming only every several seconds.
Yagami Light spotted a pitiful woman intent on dying.
Why pitiful?
His gaze followed the railing of the bridge to the woman's face, which was stained with purple crystals—a rare virus experts call the "Apocalypse Virus."
Those infected live in constant agony, the nerve-burning pain akin to hell itself, making death a release rather than a punishment. Current data shows the virus is mostly spread through sexual contact.
"Planning to jump from here? Drowning will be painful," Yagami Light said with a smile as he approached her from behind.