The night was pitch-black, without a single glimmer of light.
A cold, chilling rain fell like a dense shower of silver needles. In the darkness, the mountain road resembled a great python, snaking its way toward an endless, dark abyss.
At that moment.
On a silent mountain road.
A slightly worn-out bus was speeding along, a pale gray shadow in the night.
It had been several hundred meters away from the figures just moments before.
But at its terrifying speed,
it closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
In the glare of the bus's headlights,
the figures on the roadside grew clearer.
They were seven figures clad in mourning clothes. Bizarrely, regardless of age or gender, every single one of them wore an unnervingly strange smile.
A dark green coffin rested beside them.
Judging by their appearance, they were clearly waiting for the Deceitful Bus.
When they saw the headlights cutting through the rain and mist ahead,
all of the figures looked up.
