Few days earlier—27 November, 1899—Christina Town, Feropia...
Early Morning—The chilling days of winter had already arrived. Manabu struggled to open his eyes, the warmth of his bed enticing him to stay cocooned beneath the blankets. With a soft groan, he stretched his legs and arms.
Manabu was quite workshy, but he excelled in certain things like math calculations, sports, and, most importantly, his personal favorite—teasing his friends. It was time for school, and now he had no choice but to surrender to the day.
Only a few days remained before the winter holiday, forcing him to summon the willpower to get up. He stretched again and looked at the clock.
It was already 8. He was late.
Manabu always tried not to rely on alarm clocks. He often boasted about this, taking pride in his unorthodox reasoning.
"Alarms aren't good for our health," he would say to anyone who listened. "When we're tired, our bodies need extra rest. Alarms disrupt that, increasing stress. Scientifically, it's better to wake up naturally. For someone like me, who loves sleep, this helps me defend myself in almost any argument with my friends." But of course, this logic wasn't going to save him. He would mostly get punished for being late.
With a reluctant stretch, he dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
The cold air bit at his skin, and he shivered slightly as he reached for his toothbrush. 'Six years ago, winters weren't this harsh...' he thought to himself, squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles. 'But now? The cold is unbearable. It's like it seeps into your bones. And water… my beloved enemy.'
Bracing himself, he turned on the tap; the icy splash against his face jolted him awake. As he brushed his teeth, his thoughts wandered. When he finished, he spat and rinsed before heading to the door to fetch the newspaper, but—
"What the… Where's the newspaper?"
He was quite annoyed by the news delivery guy because, more often than not, he would forget to deliver the paper.
"The delivery guy didn't show up today either?" With a sigh of irritation, Manabu got back inside since it was cold outside—
"Faackkk~ It's so cold~"
Rinsing his face one last time, he splashed tap water on his face; the frigid water invigorated him. It was so cold his face turned red. Shoving his hands into his pockets immediately, he walked back to his bedroom. Under his couch, he had a weighing scale. He pulled it out and stood on it.
Manabu was particular about his diet. Every week, he meticulously checked his weight, keeping track of it.
And his weight scale stopped at 66.5 kg. "Only one kilogram overweight..."
Manabu was 17 years old and would probably turn 18 in a few days, by the end of the month. He was 5'9", and with shoes on, he might even reach 5'10".
Today, he skipped breakfast since he had woken up late. So he sacrificed his meal in the rush to stay on schedule. As he got ready to leave, his gaze fell on the framed photo of his grandmother sitting on his bedside table.
He picked it up and wiped the dust off with his sleeve. Her kind eyes looked back at him—a bittersweet reminder of her absence.
She had passed away just seven months ago due to illness, and though time had moved forward, the void she left behind lingered.
Manabu undoubtedly loved his grandmother the most. Since he had no parents, she had been his world.
"Grandmother, I'm going to school. See ya," he whispered and held the picture to his chest for a few moments, then left.
It was already 9:30 AM, and he rushed to school. Talking to himself was a habit of his, something he found oddly comforting. Sometimes, he even laughed at his own jokes, imagining himself as a second person in the conversation.
Not that Manabu was lonely—he had friends—but there was something undeniably peculiar about him. He had been talking to himself ever since he was a child.
On his way to school, he thought of calling Taiju. (Taiju Hiroshi, his best friend since childhood and study buddy.) Pulling out his phone, he tried calling Taiju, but it went straight to voicemail.
"His phone's switched off?"
He tried once again but got no response. So he dialed Mai's number instead, wondering if they were together.
At that moment, Mai and Taiju were on the school rooftop, furiously working on a laptop, deep in the throes of hacking. When Mai saw the incoming call, she turned to Taiju. "Manabu's calling. Pick it up," she said.
Taiju grabbed the phone and answered, "Sup, buddy? We're at school. Where are you?" He spoke with total concentration on Mai's work.
"I'm on my way," Manabu replied and asked, "What are you guys doing? Your phone was off."
Taiju looked up with a disappointed expression. "Yesterday, Mai broke my phone. She was playing games, but someone called at the wrong moment—she got annoyed and threw my damn phone at the wall. By the way, we just managed to hack the guy's computer. Mai did it for me."
Manabu's voice perked up. "What? Cool. How'd she even do that? She's a freaking genius. Her big sister is a programmer, right?"
Mai had learned coding and programming from her elder sister. Over the years, she became obsessed with it and was now fluent in programming.
Before Taiju could reply—
"No! Damn it! Shit, shit, fuck, fuck! Why!? No!? You asshole!" Mai screamed in frustration.
Taiju sighed, trying to calm her down. "Stop cursing, Mai..."
Mai slammed her hand against Taiju's laptop and lifted it with no good intentions. Taiju screamed, immediately grabbing his laptop and saving his 1220 Das (Das is Feropian currency).
"Why do you have to break everything?! Just calm down! What the hell just happened?!" he shouted.
Mai ignored him and lay down on the rooftop floor, crying dramatically as if she had faced the greatest defeat of her life.
"Five days of effort… wasted! He managed to escape!"
Manabu, listening to their chaos, chuckled. "Alright, alright, forget about it. He was probably troubled too, so he just escaped. Mai, calm down."
Taiju asked how long it would take him to reach the school. Manabu was almost there—just two to three minutes away.
Taiju then asked Manabu to grab something to eat. He turned to Mai. "Want something too?"
Mai simply sighed and said nothing.
"So—that's a no," Manabu muttered, hanging up as he resumed walking.
A little further down the road, Manabu spotted Sayuri walking ahead and called out to her by her first name—"Mion!"
She turned around, frowning. "Satoshi? What…?"
Ignoring her confusion, he grabbed her hand and started pulling her along.
Understanding what she was thinking, he smirked and replied, "Come on, we've known each other for ages. First-name basis isn't a big deal."
Sayuri followed, albeit reluctantly. "How do you know what I was going to ask you? And why is he laughing?"
Manabu explained as they walked, "For the past four or five days, someone's been trying to access Mai's device. At first, Mai couldn't figure it out, but she eventually caught on and hacked them back. The problem is, the hacker wiped everything on their end before she could trace them."
Sayuri's face grew warm as she realized Manabu hadn't let go of her hand, even as they walked through the crowded streets. People were starting to notice, making her blush even more.
"Manabu," she muttered, tugging her hand back, "I can walk just fine, and people are staring."
Manabu blinked, glancing down at their hands before releasing her with an apologetic smile.
"Oh! Sorry about that… Haha."
She wouldn't have minded holding hands, but she was just shy.
They reached the school and then went to their respective classes. Manabu and Mion shared the same class, but Taiju and Mai were in different sections.
Their school, DSH (Detens Scholar High School), was the most renowned institution in all of Feropia. It was established in 1798 in Feropia's Christina Town and gained an immense reputation within just ten years. Now, it holds the 9th rank in the entire country.
At DSH, students were not just called Scholars by name but also by their qualities, values, and morals, shaping them into the most accomplished individuals in society. Manabu was in the Science section, which was divided into three classes, all focusing on the same field.
Their class commenced with the first period—Physics. The teacher, Mr. Futaba, entered the room. He was the head of the physics department, carrying an air of authority and familiarity. He wasn't just their main class teacher; he was also Naomi's father. Naomi, a girl who was more like a sister to Mion, had been her closest friend since childhood. (Naomi was also Manabu's close friend.)
The bond between the two girls was inseparable, and it was natural for them to always stick together, even as they grew older.
Similarly, the brotherhood between Taiju and Manabu was well-known on the school campus.
Once school was over, Manabu and Taiju took off on Taiju's bike, zipping through the streets, enjoying the fleeting freedom of youth. Intentionally overspeeding and breaking traffic rules, they embraced the thrill of recklessness.
Taiju came from privilege—his father was a highly successful businessman, counted among the wealthiest elites in Feropia. With a portfolio of twelve high-rise apartment buildings, each towering between 30 to 40 floors, he was a self-made millionaire. His father had assigned an entire apartment to Taiju, entrusting him with its management—collecting rent and overseeing maintenance—wanting him to learn the art of living independently and take responsibility for his own life.
In the evening, the gang—Manabu, Taiju, Sayuri, Mai, and Naomi—would gather at Taiju's apartment. Their study sessions were a mix of focused reading and endless chatter, a blend of discipline and camaraderie. Despite their varied personalities, one thing united them: a shared and uncompromising sense of justice.
Manabu, in particular, had an obsessive interest in criminal studies. He religiously kept track of news reports, crime records, and psychological profiles of criminals. Over time, this fascination materialized into a meticulously maintained notebook, a personal archive of sorts. Yet, Manabu was no ordinary enthusiast—his depth of understanding went beyond surface-level curiosity. He was a science student with aspirations for forensic studies.
He excelled in biology and mathematics.
A shameful secret of Manabu's lay hidden in the washroom of his home, concealed behind a cleverly crafted fake ceiling board that was undetectable to the naked eye. Within this secret compartment rested his prized possession: the notebook. Manabu alone knew of its existence. He never shared it with anyone—not out of selfishness, but because he feared others might ridicule him for it, dismissing it as an odd or juvenile obsession.
The notebook bore a title that reflected his fascination: *The Night and the Blood*. The name was inspired by one of Manabu's favorite novels—a thriller drenched in supernatural tragedy and psychological depth.
Manabu read countless books, stories that fascinated him. He opened the diary. Within its pages, he had recorded the profiles of real criminals. Each entry detailed their crimes, mindsets, and stories. These weren't fictional characters from novels or manga; they were flesh-and-blood individuals, many of whom were still under active investigation.
During their study sessions, the group often delved into topics of criminology and law enforcement, sharing insights and engaging in spirited debates. These gatherings were more than just academic discussions.
Manabu's obsession with justice was deeply rooted in his bond with his grandmother. She had been his guiding light, her words of wisdom echoing constantly in his mind. His grandmother was a paragon of kindness, always seeing the good in people, even when others couldn't. She was everything Manabu aspired to be—yet everything he believed he could never achieve.
"I was the cold bastard..." he often thought, reflecting on his inability to emulate her warmth.
His grandmother had been his role model, his idol, right up to her last breath. Even as she lay dying, her thoughts were filled with compassion and love. But Manabu could never forget the regret that consumed him the night she passed.
They had argued. His grandmother had given a man a large sum of money, despite having no guarantee that he would ever return it. Manabu had called her a fool for being so blindly kind and stormed out of the house, anger clouding his judgment. Instead of staying by her side, he spent the evening riding Taiju's bike around town, trying to cool his frustration. When Taiju heard about the argument, he insisted on taking Manabu home.
But by the time they returned, it was too late.
They entered the house and found her lying on her bed, completely still. At first, they thought she was asleep. It wasn't until dinner, when they tried to wake her, that they realized the truth.
Panic set in as they called an ambulance, but the doctor's words shattered Manabu's world—
"She had passed away hours ago."
"If only I had stayed with you..." Manabu muttered to himself, staring at her empty room.
That regret became an unshakable weight on his soul. He blamed himself, believing it was his fault for not being there.
Since that day, he had changed. He became kind and helpful toward others, unwilling to risk losing someone he loved again. But after his grandmother's death, something else stirred inside him. He dedicated himself to her ideals, not because he was told to, but because it was his own will.
Yet, at night, the torment never left him. He would wake up screaming, haunted by nightmares that refused to fade.
Ever since he was a child, the nightmares had plagued him. He had once visited a doctor with his grandmother, undergone mental evaluations, and been prescribed medication. But for the past few weeks, Manabu hadn't been taking his medicine regularly.
And so, the nightmares would creep in during the dead of night, pulling him into the shadows of his mind. Memories blurred with dreams, and one event in particular refused to leave him.
Many years ago—A family incident from June 21, 1899, replayed in his head like a cursed film. He would cry in his sleep and whisper strange things...
"Mother..." he whispered. Tonight, he was trying to find someone—his mother... But he couldn't find her; he didn't remember her face.
He couldn't find her in his dreams, but her warmth always consoled him. That night, he had lost something precious.
He tried to remember, but it felt like that part of his memory didn't exist anymore...
Still, her image never left him, and the weight of that night pressed on his soul like an invisible chain of regrets…
Manabu often took sleeping pills to get proper rest, but even then, he would wake up late.
And just as usual, he would get punished—cleaning the hall, watering the trees, collecting garbage from the playground, or sitting through detention classes.