We entered the room and everything seemed to freeze for a moment. Yuki and I couldn't even speak. The shock was immediate.

The room was a mess — furniture misaligned, objects scattered on the floor. She was there, slumped, wearing only a robe. Exactly as the butler had described. But... why did she come here? That message on her phone... did she meet someone in this place?

What drew the most attention, though, was the bite mark on her hand. If I understood correctly, in the footage Masanori received a bite just like this one and, after some time, became infected. So it's possible the mayor was infected by someone, but it's still just a theory.

Could our Unknown have been... Takeuchi Masanori?

We know he had a connection to the mayor. He was a former public employee — in the finance sector. Maybe I'm forcing a link, but... it's possible he contaminated his own wife.

Either way, that didn't matter as much right now as understanding what the hell happened here.

Yuki speaks, serious:

— We should call for backup before...

— Not now — I cut in, curtly. — They'll just get in the way. We'll investigate more before the bureaucracy comes and ruins everything. Leave the body there. I bet this place still has more secrets.

Yuki hesitates. The tension is written all over her face, but then she looks at me:

— This is gonna end badly, but... fine, Mr. Stubborn.

We closed the door. The sound of the wood sealing the room felt heavier than it should. We continued down the building's corridors. With every step, the atmosphere grew thicker, as if the air carried a dirty secret stuck to the walls.

We reached one of the rooms. Several iron beds, no mattresses. On the floor, dusty children's shoes tossed haphazardly. The place smelled of old mold and abandonment. But there was nothing useful there.

We kept exploring the other rooms. One by one.

Until we came to a door. I opened it and found myself facing what looked like a records room.

The air was heavy, full of dust. Loose papers flew from one corner to another with the draft that came in when we opened the door. Some chairs were broken — not from vandalism, but from the slow, patient work of time.

I approached one of the walls and saw a poster that caught my eye.

It was a childish drawing... or at least it seemed so. It showed a punk girl, poorly scribbled, with a huge red X over her. Right below, the phrase:

“Do not be different. Being the same is living in peace.”

I stared at it.

What kind of awareness poster was this? Normally, you'd encourage creativity, especially among children. At least in my day. Maybe times have changed... for the worse.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Yuki rummaging through drawers, scattering more papers on the floor. I started searching alongside her.

After a while, I felt a light touch on my shoulder. When I turned, her face was different... it wasn't just any surprise, it was pure shock.

She showed me a document.

A financial transaction between the city hall and the orphanage. By the date, it was from when the orphanage was still operating. The number of zeros on it almost made me laugh — and not from joy. I knew maintaining a place that size wasn't cheap... but this wasn't normal spending. It was absurd.

Yuki looked at me:

— I've never seen anything like this. Why spend so much money on a place like this? This smells like corruption... or blatant money laundering. — she said, still stunned.

— I don't know, but something tells me it's not that simple.

Time passed... and nothing. No new leads. No answers. Just questions.

We decided to return to the mayor's room.

As soon as we opened the door, something paralyzed us.

Her body was no longer in the same spot.

It was farther ahead, as if it had been... dragged.

Yuki and I drew our guns at the same instant. There was someone else here. That was certain. Our eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of movement. But all we found was suffocating silence.

That's when I felt it.

A weak breeze brushed past my legs.

Cold. Almost imperceptible.

That room had no windows.

I looked around, confused. Where was that breeze coming from?

Still on alert, I approached the nearest wall. I touched it with my fingers. Then I gave it a few light punches.

Solid. Solid. Hollow.

Part of the wall was... empty inside.

I looked at Yuki and said:

— Take photos of the mayor's body. We need proof we saw her.

— What are you going to do, Haru? Did you find something?

— Maybe — I replied, with a slight smirk.

I stepped back. Then I kicked the hollow part hard. The wood cracked. On the other side, there was space. I kept kicking, destroying what was left. Pieces of the wall gave way, revealing a staircase leading down to some underground level.

Yuki and I exchanged a glance.

Someone didn't want whatever was down there to be seen.

I started descending.

The walls were damp. The sound of water drops echoed off the walls, as if the place had been crying alone for years. Yuki followed right behind. Neither of us said anything. There was no room for words anymore.

We reached a narrow corridor.

Padded cells on each side. Like those used to restrain psychiatric patients in crisis.

In an orphanage.

What the hell were these cells doing here? Wait a second... could that huge investment have been because of this? This case is getting stranger and stranger.

We continued in silence, each step making the floor creak lightly.

Farther ahead, we found an old counter, almost falling apart.

On top of it, a note yellowed by time.

A list of names.

At the top of the page, handwritten:

“Chosen children”

There were many names. Too many.

But one made me stop.

Hina.

I'd heard that name before.

It was how Takeuchi Masanori introduced himself to me during the interrogation.

So... this orphanage is connected to him?

And why would he use that girl's name?