Dazai put the bloody knife on the table and without even turning to the bound man whom he tortured and killed, he left the cell and passed the guards. One of the mobsters hastily handed him a napkin to wipe the blood from his hands. Dazai took it and walked away to his office with a blank face. Another ordinary day in the Port Mafia. Another day of his meaningless life. He walked silently through the corridors, thinking about work, tried to push aside thoughts about the emptiness that was eating away at him like corroded metal