I'm afraid there won't be a next time

Dongding Tower, eighty-eighth floor.

The four-hundred-meter glass-clad building stood like a sword plunged into the heart of Linhai City.

Kannazuki parked his electric scooter outside a convenience store two blocks away.

He bought a bottle of water and sat on a bench, a complex architectural blueprint displayed on his phone.

He had downloaded it by using the Trojan he had just planted in the delivery platform to work his way into the tower's property management system.

"Independent ventilation system, fully sealed glass curtain walls, and three high-speed elevators that all require retinal scans."

Kannazuki took a sip of water, his gaze settling on the area outlined in red.

"The top-floor conference room has a military-grade millimeter-wave security scanner. You couldn't even get a metal button through."

This wasn't just an office. It was a fortress.

"Gahahahaha." Ryuk crouched on the back of the bench and tossed his apple core into a trash can. "Light, you can't fly up there.

"Even if you could, those windows are bulletproof."

Kannazuki switched off his phone screen.

"A fortress is easiest to breach from within." Kannazuki screwed the cap back onto his bottle.

"No matter how airtight a system is, people designed it, and people run it."

He took the black notebook from his pocket and opened it to a fresh page.

He uncapped his pen and began to write.

[Li Qiang]

Head of security at Dongding Tower. A retired special forces soldier. Cautious by nature, he neither smoked nor drank.

He was the heart of this ironclad defense.

[Cause of death: car accident.]

[Time of death: 2:45 p.m.]

[Actions before death: At 2:10 p.m., Li Qiang develops acute gastroenteritis. Severe abdominal pain clouds his consciousness. He insists on driving himself to the nearest top-tier hospital. At a bend on the Jianguo Road overpass, he goes into shock from the pain. His vehicle veers out of control, smashes through the guardrail, and plunges off the bridge, killing him.]

Kannazuki closed the notebook.

It was 2:05 p.m.

Five minutes later, in the monitoring room on Dongding Tower's second basement level.

Li Qiang suddenly clutched his stomach. His face turned deathly pale, and cold sweat instantly soaked his uniform. He waved off his subordinates' attempts to help and staggered toward the parking garage.

Twenty minutes later.

A piercing screech of brakes and a tremendous crash rang out on the Jianguo Road overpass.

Dongding Tower's security department descended into chaos.

With their chief suddenly dead, a vacuum had opened in the chain of command.

Deputy chief Zhao Yi sat in a leather chair in the monitoring room, clutching a radio, his forehead drenched in sweat. It wasn't grief. It was nerves and excitement.

His phone vibrated.

An encrypted text appeared.

[Swiss bank account credited: 50,000 USD.]

A second text immediately followed.

[This is only the deposit. At exactly 3:00 p.m., shut down surveillance on the C Zone freight elevator for five minutes. Once the job is done, there's another five hundred thousand.]

Zhao Yi swallowed.

He was chief Li Qiang's deputy, and a regular at Linhai City's underground casinos. He had lost three million just last night, and the loan sharks had threatened to chop off one of his hands.

Li Qiang was dead. No one could check on him.

With trembling fingers, Zhao Yi sent a one-word reply: [Okay.]

Sitting outside the convenience store, Kannazuki looked at the reply on his phone.

Human nature was often more vulnerable than a firewall.

2:55 p.m.

Kannazuki entered the staff passage in the alley behind the tower. He had taken off his conspicuous yellow outdoor jacket, revealing a finely tailored suit vest and a spotless white shirt.

He had even put on a pair of gold-rimmed glasses with plain lenses.

Now he no longer looked like a delivery rider weaving through the streets and alleys, but an elite waiter trained at a British butler academy.

"Gahaha." Ryuk circled Kannazuki once. "That appearance of yours really could fool plenty of people."

"Composure is part of the disguise too." Kannazuki adjusted his glasses.

Exactly 3:00 p.m.

The C Zone freight elevator doors slid open silently.

The surveillance camera's indicator light went out right on schedule.

Kannazuki pushed a silver serving cart into the elevator. An insulated box sat on the cart, holding an expensive tea set for Da Hong Pao tea and delicate refreshments.

He pressed the button marked "88."

The elevator shot upward. A sensation of weightlessness washed over him.

Kannazuki studied his reflection in the elevator's mirrored wall. His heartbeat was steady, sixty beats per minute. His muscles remained subtly relaxed, ready to unleash lethal force at any moment.

Ding.

The eighty-eighth floor.

The elevator doors opened.

Two bodyguards in black stood outside, bulges visible at their waists.

"What are you here for?" One bodyguard reached out to stop the cart.

"Cloudtop Restaurant." Kannazuki bowed slightly, his voice gentle. "Mr. Wang's afternoon tea. It must be served by 3:05. The tea will turn sour if it's left too long."

The bodyguards exchanged a glance.

"Search him."

One stepped forward and swept a metal detector over Kannazuki.

Beep. Beep.

The detector sounded twice at Kannazuki's cuff.

Without a flicker of concern, Kannazuki raised his wrist, revealing a mechanical watch. "Patek Philippe. Mechanical movement."

The bodyguard glanced at the watch, then at Kannazuki's polished, utterly nonthreatening demeanor, and waved him through.

"Go in. Make it quick."

Kannazuki pushed the cart across the thick wool carpet toward the conference room at the end of the corridor.

The conference room doors were closed.

Kannazuki stopped in the preparation room outside. Through the one-way glass, he could see everything inside the conference room clearly.

Six people sat around an enormous round table.

Wang Mingyuan occupied the first seat on the left, his manner deferential.

A man in his fifties sat at the head of the table.

He wore a traditional Chinese jacket and rolled two walnuts in his hand. His hair was graying, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.

Lin Yaodong, chairman of Dongding Capital.

The true underworld emperor of Linhai City.

"This business has become an ugly mess." Lin Yaodong rolled the walnuts in his hand. His voice was quiet, yet it seemed to lower the temperature of the entire room. "That idiot Sun Jianguo. Dying was one thing, but he even lost the ledger."

"Chairman." Wang Mingyuan lowered his head. "I've already posted a hundred-million bounty. Every desperado in the city is looking for that delivery worker."

"Desperados?" Lin Yaodong sneered. "A rabble."

He pulled a kraft-paper envelope from the document bag behind him and tossed it onto the table.

Photographs slid out.

Kannazuki's pupils contracted slightly.

One photo showed a middle-aged man in police uniform holding a little girl's hand as they crossed a street.

Chen Lei.

And his daughter.

"That captain from the Criminal Police Team, Chen Lei, has been making quite a fuss lately." Lin Yaodong leaned back in his chair. "Li Jianguo's list written in blood has given him carte blanche. He wants to play the hero, so let's help him along."

Lin Yaodong pointed at the little girl in the photo.

"Make it clean."

Lin Yaodong's tone was casual, as though he were discussing dinner. "An accident.

"A school bus going out of control, or something falling from a building. Leave our Captain Chen so overwhelmed by grief that he can't perform his duties and has to retire on medical grounds."

The conference room fell deathly silent.

Wang Mingyuan wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "Chairman, going after a police officer's family... that's a red line."

"Red lines are drawn for the weak." Lin Yaodong closed his eyes. "In Linhai City, I am the red line."

Kannazuki stood behind the one-way glass.

He watched Lin Yaodong's insufferably arrogant face.

Families are off-limits.

That was the code of the underworld, and the bare minimum of human decency.

Since you think you're the red line, I'll erase that line completely.

Kannazuki raised his hand and pressed the temple of his black-framed glasses. The miniature camera had long since been activated, recording every face and every nameplate in the conference room.

Lin Yaodong. Wang Mingyuan. Chief financial officer Zhao Sihai. Head of legal affairs Qian Duoduo...

Six people. Six faces.

Kannazuki adjusted his bow tie. He took a tray from the cart's lower shelf and poured the brewed Da Hong Pao into white porcelain cups.

Knock, knock.

He knocked on the conference room door.

"Come in."

Kannazuki opened the door and entered.

He pushed the cart with steady steps, looking straight ahead.

The conversation stopped. Six pairs of eyes fixed on him.

Kannazuki showed not the slightest sign of panic. He approached Lin Yaodong, bent down, and gently set a teacup on the table.

"Your tea, Mr. Lin."

Lin Yaodong did not look at him. He merely lifted the cup and blew on the rising steam.

Kannazuki turned and served the others in order.

His movements were elegant, precise, and beyond reproach.

When he reached Wang Mingyuan, Wang Mingyuan looked up at him.

Their eyes met.

Wang Mingyuan thought the waiter's eyes looked familiar. That gaze, as calm as stagnant water.

"Have we... met somewhere before?" Wang Mingyuan frowned.

Kannazuki smiled faintly.

"Mr. Wang, an ordinary face comes standard in the service industry."

Kannazuki set down the cup and straightened.

"Please enjoy."

He turned and pushed the empty cart toward the door.

Just as his hand touched the door handle.

Lin Yaodong took a sip of tea.

"Wait."

Kannazuki stopped. He did not turn around.

"Good tea." Lin Yaodong set down his cup. "Bring a pot every afternoon at three from now on."

Kannazuki stood with his back to them.

An icy smile curved his lips.

"I'm afraid there won't be a next time, Mr. Lin."

Kannazuki pulled the door open and walked out.

The door slowly closed behind him.

Click.

The sound of the lock engaging.

Kannazuki stood in the corridor.

He raised his right hand and caught a slip of paper sliding out of his cuff between his fingers.

It was a fragment of a page torn from the Death Note.

It was covered in densely written instructions. Only the space for the names remained blank.