Thank you, Kira.
The translation software supplied the meaning underneath, but he could understand it without a translation.
Kannazuki closed it and opened the next screenshot.
A flood of KIRA-themed short videos had appeared on TikTok.
People spliced footage of criminals on trial together with news of their deaths, added epic background music, and routinely racked up millions of views.
The comments were unanimous: "KIRA is true justice."
"The law protects criminals. KIRA protects us."
"Please Kira, there's a man in my city who-"
He closed it.
He kept scrolling.
The seventh item, The Guardian-"Global anti-KIRA movement: protests erupt across Europe, calling on governments to track down the 'invisible killer.'"
Opposition was swelling alongside the support.
In London, Paris, Berlin, and Madrid, tens of thousands took to the streets carrying placards.
The slogans varied, but the central demand was the same: extrajudicial execution was a crime, no matter who died.
The European Court of Human Rights issued a strongly worded statement-"Any killing that bypasses judicial procedures tramples on civilized order.
Whatever cause the perpetrator claims to serve, it is fundamentally a dictator's monopoly on violence."
The eighth item came from Yahoo News Japan-
"KIRA worship groups emerge: anonymous altars appear in Tokyo's Akihabara, Osaka's Nipponbashi, and other locations."
Anonymous altars.
The photographs in the article were perfectly clear.
In an empty space on a street corner, someone had built a makeshift cardboard platform and placed flowers, candles, and handwritten cards on it. The cards read in Japanese:
"Lord Kira, please continue to judge evil."
"Lord Kira, please continue to punish the wicked."
At the bottom of the photograph, a young woman knelt before the altar with her palms pressed together, her posture devout.
Kannazuki stared at the photograph for five seconds.
He enlarged it to look at the kneeling woman's