Matthew sat hunched at the dimly lit bar, shoulders curved inward as if trying to disappear into himself. His eyes were hollow, distant, staring into the bottom of his glass as though the wreckage of his life might somehow be floating there among the melting ice.
The stranger in the cap slid a fresh drink across the scarred wooden counter toward him.
"Relax."
Matthew lifted his gaze slowly, the movement heavy. "Who are you…?"
"Just a friend."
Matthew looked away again, silent.
"I know what happened," the stranger continued, his voice low and unnervingly calm. "The accusations. Your daughters taken. Your life destroyed."
A sleek black card slid across the counter. Up close, it held nothing but a single phone number—no name, no company, no logo.
"Call me… if you want a second chance."
Matthew stared at the card for a long, unbroken moment, lost somewhere deep inside the ruins of his thoughts.
---
Back in his dark, empty apartment, Matthew sat at the small table. A framed photo caught the faint light from the window: the old man smiling beside his two daughters, their faces bright with hope. His eyes filled with tears. Then the dam broke.
He pounded the table with his fist, sobbing violently, each breath tearing out of him.
"Why… why… WHY?!"
The picture frame tipped over and fell, glass cracking against the floor like a small, final fracture in his soul.
"I had nothing," he narrated brokenly, voice raw. "My life had no meaning anymore. My kids were gone, my wife too… and so was I. I was just late to realize it."
His tear-blurred eyes landed on the black card lying nearby.
He wiped his face roughly with the back of his hand. His finger trembled as he picked up his phone and dialed.
**CALLING…**
The screen faded to black.
---
**One Week Later**
Night had fallen over Mizukiri Town like a shroud. A large truck rumbled slowly into the quiet streets, its headlights cutting pale tunnels through the darkness.
Matthew sat behind the wheel, face blank, eyes empty.
"I did what he asked. No questions. No hesitation. I needed money… and I needed my daughters back."
The contents of the truck remained hidden in the darkness.
---
**Present Day – The Abandoned House**
Kaiya leaned forward, tension thick enough to choke on in the dusty room.
Yui's voice cut through the silence, sharp and demanding. "So what exactly were you transporting…?"
Matthew lowered his gaze, shoulders slumping as though the weight of memory had physically pressed down on him.
"…I didn't know. Not at first."
Everyone waited, breath held, the air in the room suddenly too thin.
---
**Flashback**
A quick, merciless montage unfolded:
Matthew signing custody papers, regaining his daughters.
Moving into a nicer apartment.
His girls hugging him tightly, laughing with relief.
A fragile new stability settling over their lives like a thin, breakable layer of ice.
"The pay was good. Too good."
"I didn't ask questions. I picked up the trucks… brought them into town… dropped them off."
---
**That Fateful Night**
An empty road stretched ahead under cold moonlight. Matthew drove in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound.
In the rear-view mirror, something caught his eye—a dark liquid slowly dripping from beneath the truck bed, glistening faintly in the taillights.
He frowned.
The stranger's voice echoed in his memory: "Never stop. Never open the truck. Just deliver."
Matthew pulled over anyway.
"Must be fuel… I'll check fast," he told himself.
---
He knelt beside the truck and touched the dripping liquid. His fingers came away wet and sticky.
Red.
His breath caught in his throat.
Heart hammering, he rushed to the back of the truck. Hands shaking violently, he unlocked the heavy latch.
The rear door swung open with a metallic groan that sounded almost like a scream.
Inside—dozens of children's bodies. Stacked like cordwood. Fresh. Still bleeding. The overwhelming stench of death poured out, thick, sickening, and final.
Matthew collapsed to his knees on the gravel.
"No… no… no…"
He vomited violently onto the roadside, retching until nothing remained.
Then he screamed—raw, broken, endless—until his voice gave out and only ragged gasps remained.
He broke completely.
---
**Present**
Back in the abandoned house, Kaiya and the others sat frozen in horror. The weight of Matthew's confession hung heavy in the air, pressing down on every chest.
Matthew trembled as he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now.
"…They made me transport dead kids."
Kaiya's face drained of all color, his eyes wide with pure, unfiltered terror.
Riko pressed closer to her brother, small hands clutching his shirt. Ren looked like he might be sick. Mio covered her mouth. Even Yui, usually so composed, had gone still.
Nakayama was the first to speak, his voice low and steady despite the shock. "Who are 'they'? The same people behind the monsters?"
Matthew lifted his hollow eyes and met their gazes one by one.
"The man in the cap… he was only the beginning. What I saw that night opened a door I could never close again. The monsters you've been fighting… they aren't random. They're connected to something much older. Something that's been here in Mizukiri for centuries."
He leaned forward, voice dropping even lower.
"And the name they keep whispering in the dark… is Gurenmaru."
To be continued…