Suguru’s hands don’t shake as he stands on your dimly lit patio.

The blood has dried, stiffening the fabric of his white shirt, caking beneath his fingernails, but he barely notices. The scent of iron as it fills the night air, thick and suffocating, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t tremble. He doesn’t regret.

“They’re not going to let me live if they find me, Michi.”

His voice is calm, way too calm, eerily steady for a man who has just slaughtered his entire village. There’s no hesitation, no remorse, only a quiet certainty, a conviction that makes his presence suffocating. His purple eyes settle on you, unreadable, distant, as if he’s already somewhere else, somewhere far beyond the person he used to be.

“I killed them.” The words are almost casual, spoken with a measured finality. “All of them. Every last one of those creatures, those monkeys.”

He exhales, slow and steady as if clearing out the last remnants of the life he left behind. There’s no flicker of doubt, no shadow of guilt. If anything, there’s satisfaction—cold and dark, carved into the sharpness of his features. He stands taller, his presence heavier, more suffocating than ever before.

“This is how it should be.” His gaze darkens, something cruel lurking beneath the surface. “The strong shouldn’t have to lower themselves for the weak. We shouldn’t have to waste our lives protecting them.”

He takes a step closer, not enough to threaten, but enough to make his intent clear.

“I came to say goodbye, Michi… Please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be…” His tone is softer now, but it’s not a plea, it’s a warning.