I headed straight to the police station.
As I entered, I saw him standing at the end of the hallway, speaking with one of the officers. The moment he noticed me, he turned and gestured for us to go together down to the lower floor, where sensitive information is kept.
He opened the interrogation room door and closed it behind us, then slowly sat down at a table covered with photos and files.
Without any introduction, he said:
"What we found in that warehouse... is bigger than we expected, Takeshi."
I sat in silence, eyes fixed on the pictures, but he reached out and gently pushed them away from me.
"Listen to me first... The seven bodies? They were found in a warehouse in a remote area—similar to your old case. That's why I called you. The primary suspect is Kento.
They've been identified. Five of them were high-level executives in a medical technology company called TECA. The company specializes in advanced bio-agricultural implants… and has ties to both public and private hospitals."
I asked quickly:
"And what about the other two?"
He looked at me for a long moment before speaking, as if preparing me for a shock.
"The other two... were under special security protection. One was a former advisor to the Ministry of Health… the other, an oversight specialist reviewing TECA's contracts with major hospitals. According to records, both disappeared a year ago. Their disappearances were never made public."
Koda opened one of the files and pulled out a black-and-white photograph—clearly taken years ago. Then he said:
"Here's the strange part... all the victims had direct ties to a deal signed five years ago. A joint project between TECA and a hospital called..."
He paused, then looked me straight in the eye:
"Shinzo Hospital."
I felt something collapse inside me.
"That hospital?" I asked in a low voice.
He nodded.
"Yes. The hospital where Shinzo's son underwent surgery."
I swallowed hard. My hand trembled slightly on the table, though I kept my expression steady.
Koda spoke slowly, as if walking on broken glass:
"Takeshi... these seven weren't killed at random. The killer chose them. Each one had ties to sensitive medical files or was involved in corrupt deals pushing the early use of unauthorized medical devices. The common thread? They all signed off on deals that rushed incomplete technology into operating rooms."
He looked at me and said:
"Deals that may have killed Kento's son—without a single bullet being fired."
Then he added:
"Now, we don't have solid evidence against Kento, but this time the method was different... the precision of the kills, the targeted points on each body—but one thing links them to the previous case: the type of bullet and the weapon used. That's why we suspect Kento."
I asked: "But why did the method and accuracy change? I don't understand."
Koda lowered his head for a moment, then said:
"In this case, we discovered that the bodies had been dead for over nine months."
I stared at him, my mind struggling to grasp the full meaning.
I said quietly, with doubt in my voice:
"Nine months? That means the murders happened before the series of recent killings began?"
Koda nodded.
"Exactly. These people were the first to die. They were hidden in the warehouse using rather crude methods compared to what we're seeing now. A single bullet per victim—signs of hesitation. A killer who hadn't yet developed the precision we see in Kento's more recent murders."
I asked slowly:
"So... this was the first crime? The beginning?"
Koda replied in a quiet voice, as if confessing something he didn't want to say:
"Yes. The first crime. The first to fall. And maybe... the moment he realized that the only way to escape his pain was to drown in it."
I stood up, turned my back for a moment, trying to think. But the images on the table kept haunting me.
A corrupt medical deal... incomplete devices... seven people connected to Shinzo Hospital. Then suddenly, they appear—in a forgotten warehouse. I turned to Koda, who was still staring at the photos as if they were telling a story he didn't want to hear again.
I began speaking to myself:
If Kento knew about TECA... if he knew I wasn't the one responsible... then why did he abduct me? That question keeps echoing in my mind. Something is missing.
I looked at Koda and told him everything I'd discovered about TECA, Kento's past, and then asked the same question again:
Why would Kento abduct me if he already knew I wasn't involved in his son's death?
He looked at me thoughtfully and said:
"Based on what you've told me about his past and his psychological conflict... it's impossible to predict Kento's decisions. But since you don't remember anything after your divorce, maybe he had abducted you before—then, after discovering your innocence, he let you live."
I looked at him.
"Yes... I think that's the most logical explanation."
A few minutes later, other officers entered the room and asked me to leave. Koda was reprimanded for sharing that kind of information with me, but the other officers seemed to understand.
He just wanted to help me… to trigger something that might bring back my memory .
I left the interrogation room burdened by what I had heard, the weight of new truths pressing down on my chest with unbearable heaviness. I couldn't stay there any longer; the information choking me, I needed to get out and breathe, even if the air wasn't entirely clean.
I headed to the nearby park and found an old wooden bench under the shade of a sprawling tree. I sat down slowly, trying to organize my thoughts that were tossing me like raging waves. Around me, people hurried by, busy with their lives, unaware of what was happening inside me, unaware that I was drowning in a sea of questions and doubts.
Suddenly, a man standing several meters away caught my attention. He was watching me silently, without daring to come closer. I stared at him for a long time, my heart pounding violently. There was no doubt — it was him... Kento.
I jumped up from the bench immediately and started running after him through the narrow street, ignoring everything except catching up to him. I didn't know why, but something inside me told me this moment would be a turning point.
I grabbed his shoulder firmly as he tried to slip away. He didn't want a confrontation, but I insisted on knowing the truth. There were no words between us, only silence full of anger, fear, and tension.
We started fighting. The blows were harsh, with no room for maneuver or play. Kento was a professional fighter, but there was something in my rage that made me dangerous. He threw a punch at my face which I tried to block, but I still felt some pain. I retaliated with a hit to his shoulder that made him step back a little.
With every passing minute, I felt myself getting closer to winning. Blow after blow, he grew tired, retreated, hit with less force — he was exhausted. I tried to pressure him more, grabbed his arm, and pushed him to the ground hard.
As he lay on the ground, I remembered a mysterious scene from the past: Kento had been thrown down just like this, trying to stand up in pain, his eyes shining with anger.
Kento took advantage of my pause and attacked me with a sudden, powerful strike — a blow that left me feeling helpless and shocked.
He made his way forward, leaving behind many unanswered questions.