In the end, I didn't get any useful information from either Old Man Skeleton or the lady from the fish shop. I was more lost on what to do than ever.

  And I was alone again. The old man hadn't given me any food or drink, so I was still starving. My throat was bone dry, and I desperately wanted something to quench my thirst. I checked the canteen in my backpack, but it was empty.

  I walked to a nearby commercial district. The sun was still high. It had been chilly in the morning, but as I walked, the sunlight grew stronger. Sweat began to form on my forehead. By the time beads of sweat appeared on my nose, I found a shop selling sandwiches and drinks.

  I had a little bit of money. The cash I took from the "Gutter Hole." I can spend a little. Before going into the shop, my eyes were drawn to a bulletin board on the wall of the tobacco shop next door. There was a poster. A drawing of a person. A familiar face. A familiar figure.

  == A boy in a khaki Inverness coat. Wanted for murder. Alias: [The Homeless Killer] ---- Dead or Alive ==

  Shock. I almost let out a cry. Time seemed to stop; it didn't feel real. Wanted? Murder? What are they talking about! It doesn't make sense. It makes no sense! Why am I...

  A memory suddenly came back to me. That guy was contacting someone back then. The jewelry store man... The police? Did he tell the police I did it? Are you kidding me! He's definitely the bad guy!

  Anger welled up at the sheer unfairness of it all. What are the police doing! The police in this city are truly, completely useless!

  And that man I saw at the church yesterday. That's it! The guy with the priest might be a police bigwig! I've seen him talking to corrupt cops before! A corrupt cop was sucking up to him. If that guy was sucking up, he must be someone important.

  But it still doesn't make sense. Why am I wanted? Was I framed? For Old Man Kumi's murder? No, that's not it. The cops said Kumi died of illness. They wouldn't change it to murder halfway through. Are other homeless people being killed? Am I being framed for that? And they're calling me [The Homeless Killer]!? What are they talking about... There's no way I have an alias like that. Who made that up? Did someone go out of their way to make an alias for me? They definitely framed me on purpose...

  I really can't trust the police now! They know I don't have an alias... The police made it up on purpose...

  Suddenly, my legs started shaking uncontrollably, and the trembling spread to my arms. I timidly looked at the people passing by. They haven't noticed, right? Probably... If they notice, I'm in trouble. Especially with "Dead or Alive". That means there's a bounty. Even the street thugs might do anything for the reward money. They're the really dangerous ones.

  I have to get away from here... This is no time for shopping. I rushed into the store, quickly bought a drink, turned on my heel, and left.

  As I walked through the city, I couldn't help but worry about the passersby. Whenever I saw someone looking around, I felt like they were searching for me. I kept spotting thugs and cops, and I couldn't feel safe. What should I do? Maybe I should leave the South District. I decided to get away and head to the East District.

  By the time I reached No Hope East Station, the light sweat on my skin had turned into pouring sweat. I almost wanted to change clothes. On the way, I wondered if I should buy sunglasses at a convenience store. But first, I checked to see if there were any posters. There weren't any in particular.

  Just as I thought that, the fifteen-year-old me suddenly appeared in my mind and pointed, telling me to look at the hands of some youths loitering nearby. A group of delinquents was holding a piece of paper. It was the same one posted on the bulletin board. The wanted poster for [The Homeless Killer].

  Are they looking for me? You're kidding, right? Why!? I've never seen anyone in this city try this hard to catch a murderer before.

  I didn't want to stay in crowded places anymore. I need to go find a new hideout. I need a place to sleep at night. The ruins, located not quite as far as the foot of the southern mountain. I headed for the ruins rumored to have ghosts. I can't spend too much time looking for a hideout, and at worst, I might have to sleep there. First, I need to check if it's usable.

  I walked for about an hour. I arrived at a park near the ruins. It was almost evening. I quenched my thirst at the water fountain, took the canteen out of my backpack, and was filling it up when a strange smell drifted over.

  There were some people around the park benches. Delinquents, a bit older than me. Maybe around eighteen. To me, they were practically adults. There were three of them. Wearing tracksuits easy to run and move in, and jackets perfect for hiding weapons. They looked like they'd be carrying long-bladed knives.

  Almost everyone in this city carries a weapon, but... these guys looked more prepared than usual. They were smoking cigarettes with a unique smell. I didn't know much about it, but it was probably drugs. Junkies I often see sometimes smoke stuff that smells like that. Even out here on the edge of the Dark District, there are delinquents. I remembered Old Man Kumi saying that there are occasionally guys in the outskirts who are even more aggressive than the ones in central No Hope.

  They weren't looking at me, but I was on guard. I was alone right now. And my build was nothing special. Not that thugs in the Dark District care about fair play or physical size. What they care about is numbers, weapons, and the possibility of retaliation...

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  Of course, they aren't monsters or man-eating ghosts. Just because they see me doesn't mean they'll instantly make me their prey. It's just that, depending on their mood and timing, things like that rarely, but sometimes, happen. And I was unusually tense.

  I wanted to check the condition of the low-rise buildings in the haunted ruins. But I'd have to take a detour if I didn't walk past those delinquents. I thought about turning back and going around, but my feet were already moving on their own. Whatever. I'll just push through. As I walked past them, I heard a sound from the benches behind me, like someone standing up.

  [A park near the ruins at the foot of the southern mountain]

  The delinquents were following me. The smell of their drug-laced cigarettes reached me. It was a little scary... I kept walking, trying not to mind them.

  Once I exit the park, it's a residential area. The ruins are right past there. But I was worried about the thugs following me. It felt safer to keep walking down the slightly more populated residential streets instead of heading to the ruins. I'll keep going in that direction. I was about 30 meters from the park exit. I hope they don't follow me outside the park.

  Just as I thought that.

  "Hey, let's talk for a sec." Someone called out to me.

  I flinched. A bad feeling. I turned around to see one smirking guy and two expressionless guys. The smirking one walked up quickly, wrapped his arm around my neck, and put his arm around my shoulder.

  My body stiffened. I was scared. "Stop it!" I pulled back and pushed him away with my arm. Surprisingly, he backed off easily. It wasn't that he didn't intend to let me go, but rather he seemed confident he could catch me even without holding on tight.

  Near the park exit at sunset. The fight began. The surroundings were bathed in a mix of gold and madder red, and we were both squinting against the glare, as if existing in a backlight. Spinning around, pushing them away, making a run for it, getting grabbed and shaking them off. Biting their hands when they caught me, getting punched to the ground and getting right back up.

  I couldn't even see their expressions well in the evening sun. Panting heavily, I looked at the thugs with the setting sun behind them. One of the guys pulled out a hunting knife with a blade over 30 centimeters long, raised it, and charged at me.

  I didn't care about his life anymore. I couldn't even see the enemy's expression in the sunlight. Even if it was just meant to intimidate or threaten me. I didn't care.

  The Invisible Hand grabbed the wrist of the guy holding the weapon. The Hand pulled his arm, and his body spun through the air—whoosh!—and slammed into the ground. The neck of the thug with the knife bent at a right angle, and he stopped moving.

  One of his buddies stood frozen, looking at his motionless friend. He seemed completely unable to process what had just happened. The smirking guy now had a desperate expression. He ran over and tackled me.

  We rolled around, grabbing each other's clothes. I shook him off and delivered a punch to his face. It was a pretty solid hit. Maybe my shadowboxing was paying off a little. I broke into a run. I ran out of the park and into the residential area, shouting, "Somebody help!"

  After yelling a few times, I heard a voice from behind. "He killed him! He killed him!" Those two were chasing me.

  They didn't care at all about my cries for help. And there was no sign of anyone coming out of the nearby houses. I turned down a road lit with the red and gold of the sunset. I headed for the ruins. I thought I might be able to hide. I ran down the street and dove into the ruins.

  Thud, thud, thud. The rapid sound of their footsteps told me I hadn't put much distance between us at all. The ruined building had rooms with holes in the walls, and discarded cup noodles and trash were scattered about. The sound of them running up and down the stairs let me know they were looking for me.

  I moved carefully to avoid making a sound. I'm on the third floor of the abandoned building now. I think they're on the second floor. They'll probably come up here soon. But contrary to my expectations, one of them was already on the third floor.

  Spotted! It was him. The guy who used to be smirking. His nose was bent, covered in dried blood. He tackled me, caught me, and pinned me to the ground.

  The ex-smirker punched me in the face while strangling me with one hand. He was way stronger at grappling than the other guy. I'd been training every day, too. This guy must be a battle-hardened delinquent. He punched right through my guard without caring, and then hit me again. Enough already! This guy!

  I grabbed the head of the guy straddling me with The Hand and dragged him backward, knocking him over. This time, I got on top of the fallen guy and threw punches. I couldn't hit his face properly! He was guarding, and my left hand was grabbed and pinned. He tried to kick me off with his legs.

  Before I could make The Invisible Hand back up my right arm, the thirty-year-old me appeared. "Don't rely on it right away! Land at least one hit yourself!" he yelled, firing me up.

  Shut up! I thought, feeling rebellious, but I decided to land just one hit and threw a punch of my own. It landed! I'll pay him back with just one more! Right under the smirking guy's mouth. I hit him clean in the jaw. It might have cracked.

  That's enough. I use The Invisible Hand. The Invisible Hand was much stronger than my own arm. The transparent but undeniable mass of force delivered a heavy punch right through his guard, one strong enough to break his wrist. The thug who had initially been smirking was knocked out cold in one hit.

  I stood up and started thinking about what to do with the other guy. Should I run? What do I do now! Now I've actually become a murderer! If they put another bounty on me... I hurried to get out of the ruins.

  Clatter, clatter.

  I heard a sound like a bottle rolling from the second floor. I strained my ears, but I couldn't hear anything besides my own breathing. There's another staircase down the hall in the opposite direction. I moved that way. Quietly, without making a sound, I went down.

  Bloodstains on the floor near the second-floor landing. Thick blood was left behind, trailing into a room as if something had been dragged. Only one shoe was lying there. ...What is this? Is he trying to catch me off guard? Or did he get badly hurt in the fight earlier and is resting here? What should I do? This might be my chance to leave him and run.

  But before I knew it, my feet were heading toward that room. As if something else had possessed me, I stumbled over to peek inside.

  A massive amount of bloodstains on the wall. A brutally murdered corpse was placed leaning against the wall. What kind of killing method turns a wall into this? What the hell is this. ...I didn't do anything. It wasn't me. Was he attacked by some large beast? The blood trails are fresh. Was he just killed? That sound of the rolling bottle earlier...

  The ghost of the ruins... I felt like the fifteen-year-old me muttered in my mind.

  A ghost? Really? Just as I extended my leg toward the doorway to escape this place, I saw a huge dog walking up the stairs.