"Kindaichi Detective Agency…""Honestly, Hayashi-san, I feel like that name doesn't suit you."
The next afternoon, Hakuba Saguru arrived at the agency dressed casually, a laptop bag slung over his shoulder.
He glanced around the room.
Bright. Neat. The décor exuded clarity and order—exactly what one would expect from someone like Hayashi Yoshiki.
It fits him far better than the Kindaichi image.
Saguru gave a faint, approving nod.
"Yeah?" Yoshiki replied, amused.
"I get the homage—it's probably an Easter egg for you. But when I think of Kindaichi, I picture a scruffy, messy genius.""You're the opposite. Precision, poise, intent. Names carry symbols, you know?"
"Then it works," Yoshiki said with a soft smile.
"Symbols are meant to be interpreted."
Saguru chuckled, setting his bag down and opening his laptop.
"Where's your assistant?"
"Day off."
"Ah... you planned this meeting."
He nodded, understanding. As the computer powered on, Yoshiki placed a fresh cup of tea beside him.
"Thanks."
"Shall we begin?" Yoshiki asked, taking a seat.
"I've been waiting to hear your thoughts," Saguru said gravely, angling the screen toward him.
"Because this time… It's different."
There were three video files in the open folder.
The filenames were timestamped—three consecutive days, each showing what the police had labeled as "accidental deaths."
Yoshiki studied the first video, then the second, then the third.
Each case began inconspicuously. The victims blended into the scene naturally. At first glance, there was no indication of what was about to happen—or who the intended victim even was.
Only once the fatal chain reaction began did the pattern emerge. But even then, the source of the true intent—the murder—was masked beneath chance.
Yoshiki said nothing. His eyes locked onto the screen, intense and unreadable.
Saguru waited, sipping his tea slowly.Black tea, steeped perfectly. Clear reddish tone, smoky aroma…
Despite having reviewed these videos multiple times, Saguru still felt baffled.
The killer leaves no trace. Just coincidence… until it's not.
Yoshiki finally spoke.
"All three deaths occurred between 19:05 and 19:06, correct?"
"Yes," Saguru confirmed. "Starting the day before yesterday—one death each day, same timeframe.""We don't know if it'll happen again today."
"It probably will."
Saguru blinked.
"Did you see something?" he asked, leaning forward.
Yoshiki frowned.
"There's no precise second of death recorded?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, no." Saguru sighed. "The timestamps on the surveillance footage aren't synchronized. Eyewitnesses and call logs confirm only that the deaths occurred within the 19:05 minute."
"I see..."
Yoshiki crossed his hands in front of his face, eyes still locked on the screen.
The three video windows played simultaneously.
His gaze sharpened.
"Fifteen seconds..." he whispered.
"What?" Saguru looked puzzled.
"I think... the deaths occurred at 15, 30, and 45 seconds past 19:05 respectively."
Saguru's eyes widened.
"You're saying... the time it takes for each chain reaction to lead to death is increasing in 15-second intervals?"
"Exactly. Take the most recent case: If the pickup truck incident started precisely at 19:05, then the man who was electrocuted likely died at 19:05 and 45 seconds. The prior two deaths? At 30 and 15 seconds respectively."
"!!"Saguru immediately pulled the laptop back, fetched his pocket watch, and began timing the sequences frame by frame.
The results confirmed it.
"Incredible..." he murmured. "Exactly as you said. This guy—"He paused.
"Using accidents to kill is terrifying enough. But to do so with surgical precision—to the second?""This isn't a coincidence. This is mastery."
"Anything unusual happen before these incidents?" Yoshiki asked, still focused.
"Actually, yes."Saguru opened another folder and played a new video.
A woman exited a shopping mall—Vermouth, wearing her public identity: Chrissie Wynyard, American movie star.
In the footage, a nearby collapse nearly struck her. She avoided serious injury by pure chance.
"That's Chrissie Wynyard," Saguru explained. "A-list celebrity, here on vacation."
"Barely injured," Yoshiki observed.
"Right. But that made her the perfect witness. The task force interviewed her—"
"And exposed themselves," Yoshiki finished.
Saguru nodded with a wry smile.
"We've had three deaths. All high-profile. Same timestamp. The killer is sending a message."
"He's provoking the task force," Yoshiki said plainly. "That actress was bait. Her survival was the test. The moment the task force questioned her, their existence was confirmed."
"Exactly."
"So this is his challenge letter," Yoshiki continued. "A killer who's now escalating—measuring us by the second."
He leaned back.
"If he continues the 15-second pattern, the next death might occur exactly at 19:06. Or maybe still at 19:05—but at 60 seconds, making it the full minute."
Saguru swallowed hard.
"And the location...?"
They both paused.
Then, simultaneously, the two detectives smiled with grim understanding.
"Most likely—""—at the geometric center of the three previous death scenes."