Among all of humanity, only one percent are born with a Path.
And of that one percent, only those living in metropolises with populations over ten million have a chance of opening their Path.
Of those who, by a stroke of luck, meet the conditions, open a Path, enter a Nest, and manage to come back alive, not even one in ten survives.
Calculated by these odds, Daiju Monroe's death was an inevitability born from chance.
From the moment of the car crash, Daiju Monroe's fate was pierced through with irony. But the greatest irony was that only through her death could her son obtain a life he never could have achieved, no matter how hard he worked.
"...I was a step too late. By then, she had long stopped breathing. After I finally managed to cut the resident's rope and force it to retreat from the mortal world, I thought you were dead too. For at least half an hour, you lay motionless on the road, not far from her, your eyes meeting hers. What were you thinking then?"
