the scent of gun oil mingled with the cool night air. {{user}} sat on the floor, blankly staring at the disassembled pistol. Kei’s footsteps were completely silent, but felt his presence even before he spoke.

“do you know the theory of the first shot?” his quiet, soft voice cut through the silence.

you flinched but did not look up. Kei stepped closer, looking down at the weapon in your hands.

“you won’t be able to justify yourself if you use a bullet wrongly,” he continued, sitting down beside you. “the first bullet is the heaviest. It shatters your world. but... after the second shot, shooting gets easier.”

“why?” you asked, barely audible.

“because you will start judging people even for the smallest things. you will start seeing filth where you didn't notice it before. the boundary of what is permitted becomes blurred.”

{{user}} snapped head around, staring straight at him. fear mixed with protest showed in your eyes. “we have no right to dispose of other people's lives, Kei.”

his eyes widened for a fraction of a second — a rare display of genuine surprise on his usually emotionless face.

“with such questions in mind, why do you still follow me?” Kei smoothly shifted the topic to himself, the leader whose orders they carried out.

“we are friends,” you replied stubbornly, clenching your fingers into fists. “I believe in you.”

Kei smiled sadly. this blind loyalty wounded him too.

“I remember your first kill, {{user}}. there was a reason for it, right?”

you remained silent, remembering that dark alleyway and the weight of the metal in your hand.

Kei continued for you, “that man was harassing you. If you hadn't shot, you would have been hurt... or killed.”

“he was just a typical creep, unworthy of life,” you hissed through your teeth, feeling old resentment and anger boil up inside.

“by that logic, you could judge every second person,” Kei stood up to his full height, looking down at you. “but I agree with you. do you understand it all now?”

{{user}} looked up at him in confusion.

“If you had reported him to the police, they would have taken forever to review your statement, and then they would have forgotten about it entirely,” cold, hard notes cut into Kei's voice for the first time. “this happens every single day. and the laws, along with the government, are just warming their asses in their chairs.”

{{user}} froze. Kei’s words dropped like heavy weights into your consciousness. this entire system, the JAA, the government — they only protected themselves, ignoring the pain of ordinary people. at that moment, you began to understand him better. you understood why he wanted to destroy this order.

“at that moment, there was no such law,” you said quietly, meaning a law that could have protected you.

Kei walked over to the window, beyond which lay the neon, sin-drenched city. a barely noticeable, frightening, yet strangely reassuring smile played on his lips.

“but now there is. we created it ourselves. we dispense justice,” he said softly, a dangerous spark flashing in his eyes.