The Ghost moved silently through the narrow streets of Munich, the city now cloaked in the quiet of the te night. His eyes were sharp, scanning every shadow, every flicker of movement. He had spent days meticulously tracking Satsujin Sha, keeping his distance, watching the killer’s patterns unfold just as Mr. A had predicted. But tonight was different. Tonight, The Ghost was ready to confront the truth behind Mr. A’s theory—and possibly, the killer himself.

  For days, The Ghost had observed the remnants of Satsujin Sha’s crimes. The red strings left behind at the scene, tied in neat knots, always pced in locations easily missed by the police. Each location of the murders, when plotted on a map, began to form a shape—a triangle, just as Mr. A had said. The Ghost had initially been skeptical of such a simplistic pattern for a killer as sophisticated as Satsujin, but now, he couldn’t deny the evidence before him.

  As he moved deeper into Munich’s quiet streets, he repyed everything in his mind. Satsujin was more than just a murderer—he was an artist of death, leaving behind symbols that only someone like Mr. A, with his unique insight, could interpret. The red string represented fate, the victims connected not by chance but by design, their lives intersecting in ways no one else had noticed. The killings were not just random—they were part of a calcuted game.

  The Ghost stopped at the entrance of an old church, where the test murder had occurred. He crouched, examining the scene in the moonlight. His eyes fell on a small, almost invisible knot of red string tied to the railing near the entrance. It was precisely as Mr. A had described. The victims were part of a twisted web, connected by a past event they likely didn’t even remember.

  His pulse quickened as he realized just how accurate Mr. A had been. This was no coincidence. Mr. A had seen through Satsujin’s facade and was right about the connection between the victims. They had all attended a charity ga three years ago, and now they were being hunted, one by one.

  The Ghost stood, his mind racing. He needed to inform Mr. A immediately. Pulling out his phone, he quickly dialed the number, the low hum of the ringtone filling the silence.

  On the other end of the line, Mr. A picked up almost instantly. He was still in his Tokyo apartment, surrounded by maps and photos pinned to the walls, all connected by red lines. He had been awake for days, tirelessly following the reports from Germany. The moment he heard The Ghost’s voice, he knew something had shifted.

  “The pattern is real,” The Ghost said, his voice low but certain. “You were right. The victims… they’re all connected. The red string, the locations, everything. Satsujin Sha is working off a precise pn.”

  Mr. A exhaled deeply. “I knew it. What about the test murder?”

  “It fits the pattern perfectly. He’s building something with these locations. You said a triangle, right? He’s almost completed it.”

  Mr. A’s voice grew tense. “Then we’re running out of time. The next killing will close the triangle. That’s when he’ll move to his final act.”

  The Ghost frowned. “Final act?”

  “There’s always a final act,” Mr. A replied. “This isn’t just about the killings. Satsujin’s murders are leading up to something bigger. We don’t know what it is yet, but if he completes the pattern…”

  The Ghost understood immediately. He had to stop Satsujin before the final murder. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it was a countdown to something far worse. He tightened his grip on the phone, his mind already working through the possibilities.

  “I’ll stop him,” The Ghost said, his voice hard with determination. “But he knows I’m watching him. He’s noticed me.”

  Mr. A’s heart sank. “Be careful. Satsujin is more dangerous than anyone realizes. If he knows you’re on his trail, he’ll come after you.”

  The Ghost smiled grimly. “Let him try.”

  As The Ghost ended the call, a feeling of unease crept over him. He had been following Satsujin Sha, but now he realized that Satsujin had been aware of him for some time. The red string left at the test crime scene—was it not just a signature, but a message? A warning?

  His instincts screamed at him to move, and he did, swiftly retreating into the shadows. He knew that in this deadly game, becoming compcent would mean his death. Satsujin was a master at using his surroundings, maniputing fear, and always staying one step ahead. But The Ghost was no ordinary hunter. He thrived in this kind of game.

  The night air was thick with tension as The Ghost wove through the back alleys of Munich. His footsteps were silent, his every movement calcuted. He knew Satsujin was nearby—he could feel the killer’s presence, watching, waiting.

  Suddenly, he heard the faintest sound—a soft rustling behind him. The Ghost’s muscles tensed. He slowly turned, scanning the alley, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted to the darkness. There, just beyond the reach of the streetlights, was a figure—a silhouette blending into the shadows.

  Satsujin Sha.

  Their eyes met for the briefest moment, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were pying. Then, without warning, Satsujin moved.

  The Ghost was ready. He bolted after him, his senses on high alert. Satsujin was fast, darting through the alleyways like a shadow, but The Ghost had anticipated this. He followed, his focus unbreakable, his sharp mind working through every possible outcome.

  The chase twisted through narrow streets, over rooftops, and through abandoned buildings. Satsujin was leading him somewhere—The Ghost knew it—but he didn’t care. He needed to close the distance, to face the killer head-on.

  Finally, they emerged in an empty industrial yard, the moon casting long shadows across the rusted metal structures. Satsujin stopped at the far end, turning to face The Ghost. For the first time, the two stood in full view of each other, no more shadows, no more hiding.

  The Ghost’s eyes locked onto Satsujin’s. The killer’s face was calm, almost serene, but his eyes betrayed a dark intelligence, a mind always calcuting, always watching.

  “You’ve been following me,” Satsujin said, his voice cold and measured.

  “I’ve been hunting you,” The Ghost replied.

  A slow smile crept across Satsujin’s face. “And yet, here we are. You still don’t understand, do you?”

  “Understand what?” The Ghost asked, his hand moving toward his concealed weapon.

  Satsujin chuckled softly, taking a step forward. “The pattern isn’t about the murders. It’s about what comes after. The red string, the victims, the locations—they’re all leading to the final act. And now that you’re here, you’re part of it.”

  The Ghost’s heart pounded as the realization hit him. He hadn’t just been chasing Satsujin—he had been led here. The entire chase had been orchestrated, a trap to bring him to this exact moment.

  Satsujin raised his hand, revealing a small knot of red string tied around his finger. “Welcome to the final act,” he whispered.

  Before The Ghost could react, Satsujin disappeared into the shadows once more, leaving him standing alone in the industrial yard, the full weight of the killer’s pn crashing down on him.

  Without wasting a moment, The Ghost pulled out his phone and called Mr. A. His voice was urgent, breathless. “It’s worse than we thought. He’s not just killing them—he’s building up to something. He knew I was coming. I’ve been part of his pn the whole time.”

  On the other end of the line, Mr. A went silent. He had feared this all along, but now that it was confirmed, the gravity of the situation was even more terrifying than he had imagined.

  “We need to stop him before it’s too te,” The Ghost said, his voice grim. “He’s pying us both.”

  Mr. A’s mind raced, trying to piece together the final pieces of the puzzle. “Then we have no choice. You need to finish this.”

  The Ghost nodded to himself, his resolve hardening. He had come to kill Satsujin Sha, and now more than ever, he knew that was the only way to end this nightmare.

  As the night deepened, The Ghost prepared for the final confrontation, knowing that the stakes had never been higher.