Rainy Night, Pursuit, Living Yama

Drip, drip. Golden raindrops fell into the heart lake, watering an inch of phantom lotus.

Crash, crash. Icy rain fell over Tokyo, pouring through the bleak, frigid night.

A dark alley lay strewn with garbage, reeking of filth.

Bang!

A man suddenly burst out from a side door. Panicked and anxious, he staggered on unsteady feet. Terror filled his face as he looked wildly from side to side and fled with all his strength.

His cheap leather shoes splashed through puddles, and his inexpensive suit was soaked through by rain, but he no longer cared.

Someone was hunting him down.

In the alley behind him, beneath the misty neon lights and amid the bone-scraping cold wind, something tracked him like a vicious ghost—silent, ruthless, ready to tear him to shreds.

"Don't... don't come after me, don't come after me..." The man ran in panic, then suddenly slipped. With a splash, he rolled through filthy water, his head smashing against a dumpster, leaving him in a miserable state.

But he had no time to pull himself together. He scrambled to his feet with both hands and feet and continued fleeing in blind panic.

Footsteps seemed to sound from the darkness behind him—neither hurried nor slow, yet brimming with murderous intent.

"No, it has nothing to do with me! It has nothing to do with me!!"

The man shouted in japanese, flinging several empty bottles and cans wildly into the darkness. Amid their clattering, he continued his terrified flight for his life.

He ran.

Then kept running.

From alleyways to main streets, from silent deserted places to crowds surging like a tide. Once he reached the crowd, the man instinctively felt a trace of safety. But as his frantic gaze swept across the people, he suddenly spotted a figure behind them.

That