Ayatsuji Yukito let out a long, heavy breath. The hem of Mei Misaki's dress was bunched up in his hand, showing that he was not as unmoved as he appeared.
Compared with Osamu Dazai or Ranpo Edogawa, Ayatsuji Yukito certainly did not feel as deeply. But as a killer detective who had spent his life confined, could he truly remain untouched by that beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime encounter?
Even he probably would not believe that nonsense.
So even he felt suffocated by An Xinyi's endless cycles.
The other was the demon Fyodor. A star had risen for him, a spark of hope had been lit for him. If even that could not move him, then he would be nothing but a demon, not a human.
And the facts proved that even the demon was only human.
But for Fyodor at that moment, he wanted to have An Xinyi, and even more than that, he wanted An Xinyi's help. After all, An Xinyi truly was powerful. There was no questioning that strength.
Tch.
That was why he and that demon would never get along.
Ayatsuji Yukito inadvertently met Fyodor's eyes. Faced with that smiling gaze, he immediately looked away in disgust.
Ayatsuji Yukito had seen it long ago. Without a doubt, Fyodor was a madman without limits, just like Kyogoku Natsuhiko. Killing in the name of a greater cause or an ideal amounted to the same thing. In the end, it would only turn into a belief that anything could be sacrificed, anyone could be killed.
Ayatsuji Yukito did not consider himself a good person, but he loathed that kind of killing.
"Mr. Ayatsuji?" Mizuki Tsujimura truly deserved to be the first person to break the curse surrounding Ayatsuji Yukito's assistants. She keenly sensed his foul mood and cautiously asked, "Is something wrong?"