Yokohama's main streets bustled even in winter.
But once one left those crowded, prosperous areas,
the quiet and desolation of the season came flooding back.
Kaigaku crouched in the shadows at the mouth of an alley, like a feral cat waiting to pounce.
Though he was still young, his face held a gloom that did not suit his age.
His eyes kept sweeping over the occasional passersby.
He was searching for his [prey].
He had not eaten a proper, filling meal in days.
It was not that his street skills had deteriorated and he could no longer steal or rob anyone.
Rather, patrol officers had suddenly increased in several nearby areas lately.
According to the other street punks, some big shot had apparently come to Yokohama.
It had forced many of the street toughs, and even street children like them, to rein themselves in a little.
"Just my rotten luck."
Kaigaku cursed under his breath, then spat out the grass root between his lips.
He had spotted his next targets.
Two finely dressed young people, one behind the other, happened to pass the alley entrance.
The young man wore a loose white haori and carried several heavy bags.
The girl wore an expensive-looking kimono.
She, too, carried quite a few things she had just bought.
Time for business!
These two would be my first score today!
But Kaigaku's gaze suddenly grew more sinister.
As for why he had chosen them,
part of the reason was that neither looked strong, and their belongings looked valuable.
The second reason was that both had their hands full, making them perfect targets for a "third hand" like him.
But the reason for his sour mood...
Kaigaku swept his gaze over the pair before fixing it firmly on their necks.
It was the magatama hanging