The Oni Island biker gang incident had finally come to an end.
Their leader, Kanekawa Ryūnosuke, was found burned to death beneath a bridge in West Ikebukuro.
Alongside his charred corpse, police discovered dozens of files detailing his long list of crimes—burglary, robbery, assault, indecent acts.
As for who killed him… no one knew.
For a brief moment, Kiryu Dou Tang was listed as a suspect. But there wasn't a shred of evidence tying him to the murder.
On the contrary, the delinquents he'd beaten unconscious all provided him with an airtight alibi. And the rest? Those who escaped that night weren't even willing to call it "injury."
When police asked whether they wanted compensation for their damaged motorcycles, not a single one filed a complaint.
They all just wanted the matter buried—fast.
Twenty-four hours after the body was found, the Metropolitan Police Headquarters received a single, curt order:
Kanekawa Ryūnosuke's death was to be ruled an accidental self-immolation, caused by a gasoline leak ignited by his own cigarette.
An order, not an autopsy report.
And just like that, the case vanished.
But Dou Tang's instincts wouldn't let him rest.
He could feel it—something deeper, something that didn't add up.
Someone had engineered the entire incident… and then silenced Kanekawa to tie off the loose ends.
He sensed the pattern—an invisible hand moving behind it all. And so, quietly, he became more vigilant than ever.
The next day, he took the day off from school.
He didn't go to Keishi Suzuki High to meet Yohei, either.
Instead, he stayed home with Huaiyin, packing their things.
Lu Zizhen sat cross-legged on the sofa, munching potato chips.
"You two are so fussy," she said with her mouth full. "Just bring some clothes and snacks. I've got a car, don't I?"
Dou Tang ignored her, silently folding shirts into a duffel bag.
Lu flipped through the TV channels—then suddenly let out an "oh-ho!" and jabbed a finger at the screen.
"Hey, hey—look! You guys made it onto television." Both Dou Tang and Huaiyin looked up.
The program was the same variety show Kume Chinatsu had been filming back in Ikebukuro. To his dismay, the footage had caught not just her—but them as well.
Both Dou Tang and Huaiyin looked striking on camera, and the moment Kume Chinatsu had abruptly stopped filming when she saw him was… conspicuous.
The editors had eaten it up.
Across the bottom of the screen flashed a lurid red headline:
"Shocking! Underground Idol's Secret Love Triangle Exposed?!"
Dou Tang stared at the TV for two seconds. Then, without a word, he went back to packing.
Lu burst into laughter.
"Pffft—ahahahahahaha! Oh my god, those people! They really think you'd fall for some brainless idol girl? Hahahaha!"
Something about her laughter… felt off.
Dou Tang frowned, catching a strange undercurrent in her tone. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
Lu raised her hands innocently, shrugging.
"Nothing~ I just think she's not good enough for you, that's all. Hmph." Huaiyin glanced up at her, uncertain.
That tone—was she… jealous?
She didn't say anything, just bowed her head and kept folding clothes.
The dynamic between Dou Tang and Lu Zizhen was strange— not lovers, not quite friends—
yet their interactions often carried a faint, dangerous intimacy. And now, she really sounded like she was sulking.
Dou Tang decided not to rise to it. Trying to decode Lu Zizhen's moods was a losing game; half the time she seemed to live in two realities at once.
"Talk," he said instead. "Tell me about Ao Oni." Lu waved him off immediately.
"Oh, the Blue Oni? Nope!" She turned her head with exaggerated defiance.
"Save it for the road, will you? I've got to drive the whole way. I'll need something to keep me awake. Otherwise…"
She grinned.
"I might fall asleep at the wheel. Like Retsu Kaioh picking a fight with Miyamoto Musashi."
Dou Tang blinked, deadpan. He'd read Baki.
He knew exactly what that meant. "That's… not funny," he muttered.
Lu snickered and sank deeper into the sofa, flipping back to the TV with a satisfied hum.
After lunch, the three of them set out.
It took two blocks to find where Lu had parked her car—a black Volkswagen Beetle.
Dou Tang looked at the tiny vehicle and rubbed his temples. He was far too tall for this.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Lu said breezily, twirling the keys. "When I bought it, I didn't know I'd be hauling a giant around."
She unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat.
"Wow," Dou Tang snorted. "You sound just like my mom."
To get in, Huaiyin had to climb through the front—there were only two doors. She slipped obediently into the backseat.
Dou Tang had insisted on bringing her.
Leaving her alone wasn't safe—not with that Wet Wraith still unaccounted for, and the possibility of retaliation from Onigashima lingering.
Inside, the Beetle's interior was simple but cozy.
The dashboard gleamed with warm amber and deep red tones.
"Walnut lacquer," Lu said proudly. "I salvaged it from an old piano. Pretty, huh? The sound system's custom too—cost me five hundred thousand yen."
Dou Tang stared at her.
"So that's what you spend your money on?"
Lu slid on her sunglasses, turned the ignition, and smirked.
"When you live like me—day by day, no guarantees—you learn to spend what you have on feeling alive."
Huaiyin leaned forward between the seats, frowning.
"Why do you say things like that, Sister Lu? Why can't everyone just… live properly?"
Her voice trembled slightly.
She looked at Dou Tang when she said it—as if blaming him too. He didn't answer. He only reached over and gently ruffled her hair. Lu chuckled softly.
"Ah, Huaiyin, you're adorable. Girls your age always are."
With one hand on the wheel, she eased the car out of the parking lot, fastening her seatbelt with the other.
"But you'll see," she went on. "The adult world's complicated.
Some people spend their lives chasing peace, family, a quiet death in bed.
Others… choose danger.
And once you do, you don't get both.
Happy family, peaceful death—those things stop belonging to you." Huaiyin understood more than she let on, but she still whispered stubbornly,
"Can't they just choose not to walk those roads?"
Dou Tang didn't answer.
He sank back in his seat, eyes half-closed.
For him, there was no choosing.
The Crown Game bound his path; escape wasn't an option.
Lu made a turn onto the ramp.
For a while, the car was silent but for the hum of tires on concrete.
Then, as they merged onto the highway, she spoke again—lightly, almost laughing. "Haha… sometimes people just can't help themselves, Huaiyin.
Some things only happen once… and then over and over again."
The seat creaked as Dou Tang turned his head, the leather squeaking softly—gachi, gachi.
His gaze was sharp, cold.
"You're hiding something from me." Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe that strange sixth sense of his. But she froze—just for a second.
Then Lu Zizhen smiled—and nodded. "Mm-hmm."
No denial. No hesitation.
Dou Tang turned his head forward again, movement slow and deliberate. Only Huaiyin, caught between them, sat there wide-eyed—
not understanding the words, but feeling the tension like static in the air.
She had never once doubted her brother's intelligence. He never asked questions without reason.
But she couldn't grasp why he'd asked that one. The car sped along the highway.
Lu reached forward, flicked on the radio, and let the music fill the silence. No one spoke again.
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