My first suspicion of him arose when he casually suggested renovating the basement without the supervision of permanent instructors. He called it a project for "privacy for special research students." He used polite words, reassuring words, words designed to lull any suspicion to sleep. But I knew better. I knew he was hiding something, something far more sinister than I could possibly imagine.
I am no detective. I do not possess an investigative license. But ever since childhood, I've had a profound familiarity with crime… albeit in a more elegant form. I grew up steeped in tales of murder, of intrigue, of betrayal. I had immersed myself in a dark, fictional world, studying every nuance of criminality, every shade of human depravity.
Manga. Novels. Mystery stories. In that order.
