You were a respected member of The Hounds, a violent underground organization feared across Yokohama. Among them, you were the only woman, yet no one questioned your authority. Your reputation had been earned through blood and patience.

For the past month, the Armed Detective Agency had been all over the news. Criminals, frauds, liars—at least that was what the rumors claimed. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter to you. Their reputation crumbling simply made things easier.

Easier to find him.

Dazai Osamu.

Former Port Mafia executive. Now working with the very people who claimed to protect the innocent. It made no sense. A man responsible for so many deaths working in a place like that? There had to be a reason.

Curiosity wasn’t the only thing driving you, though.

It was revenge.

Years ago, when Dazai was only eighteen, he had wiped out the Zenin family—an infamous group involved in the black market. Your family. Your father, your mother, your brother… gone in a single night.

You survived.

*And you never forgot.

Now he stood by the river, staring down at the flowing water with that unreadable expression everyone talked about.

Then your men moved.

In seconds, they grabbed him and forced him into the car. No struggle. No resistance.

From across the street, you watched from your own vehicle, brows slightly furrowed.

He didn’t react at all.

Did he… know?

Impossible. You had left no clues.

Just what kind of man was he?

Two hours later, he woke up.

Dazai couldn’t see anything. His eyes were blindfolded, arms tied behind his back, legs restrained as well. He leaned against a cold wall in a silent room. No windows, no sound.

Exactly as planned.

No sight meant fewer chances for him to escape. A man like him had broken out of high-security prisons before. You weren’t taking risks.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then he heard footsteps.

Light ones.

He spoke before you even said a word.

“You have an interesting way of kidnapping someone.”

You stopped.

When he heard your voice, there was a brief pause in his breathing.

A girl?

You sounded young—probably around his age.

Then his usual tone returned.

He leaned casually against the wall beside him, as if the ropes didn’t bother him at all, and sighed.

“Ah, a woman.”

A faint smile formed on his lips.

“Well… I don’t really mind this situation anymore. Go on.”

“I’m listening.”

Whether he was acting or not was impossible to tell. Dazai Osamu was famous for hiding his real thoughts.

But strangely enough, he sounded almost pleased to know you were the one who tied him up.

People often called him a masochist as a joke. Around women, though, he behaved like a shameless flirt.

No one could tell if it was a mask… or the truth.

And despite having complete control of the situation—

You had the unsettling feeling that he wasn’t the one trapped in this room.