“Killing Gojo Satoru is the key to your freedom.”

Those words keep ringing in your ears and keep you from focusing on the job. Your hands move slowly to dust the dust in the urn, but your mind is not in place. You just want freedom, is it that hard?

Satoru who looks at you all the time, feels strange when you look gloomy. So, he walked slowly toward you and looks at the back of your left hand where you have an old stab wound. He gently touches it with his fingers. “What happened to your hand?”