It's really a place with nothing.
There is only a deep night without any starlight.
The buildings on both sides of the street were like a pure background wall, and there was not even a single passerby on the asphalt road illuminated by the pale light of the street lamps.
An eerily empty place.
Hayashi Yoshiki stood there, and opposite him stood a burly middle-aged man who was ready to fight.
Not far away, as the intercity train roared past, the strong man also rushed toward Hayashi Yoshiki at that moment.
His rapidly approaching figure was extremely oppressive.
Hayashi Yoshiki also tensed up in that moment. Noticing the heavy step of the man's left foot, he bent slightly to the left, causing the opponent's fierce right whip kick to miss. But the man spun with his momentum and kicked with his left leg.
With the sharp sound of breaking wind, Hayashi Yoshiki crossed his arms to block—
Bang!
The huge force knocked him back half a step.
But the attacker didn't give him any time to breathe. With another rush, he threw a rock-like punch at Hayashi Yoshiki's face!
Swish!
Hayashi Yoshiki barely avoided it, but his eyes had already locked on to the incoming hand.
He raised his right arm to block the punch to his chest—and with his other hand, he struck back at the man's torso.
Blocked.
The burly man caught his fist and grinned.
But the next second—
Thud!—Hayashi Yoshiki's knee smashed into his abdomen.
The man staggered back several steps.
Taking advantage of the gap, Hayashi Yoshiki reached to his waist, pulled out a dagger—and charged.
The man's pupils shrunk.
Hayashi Yoshiki dipped low and aimed the blade at the man's chest. The man desperately twisted to evade—but Hayashi Yoshiki was already watching for it.
The burly man danced back, barely dodging each time, the blade grazing his skin and leaving bloody streaks. Then finally—he lunged, grabbing Hayashi Yoshiki's knife arm—
Big mistake.
The second knife stabbed deep into his arm.
He hadn't noticed the other blade—hidden.
Bright red blood gushed from tangled muscles. The man cried out in pain, his grip failing.
That was it.
Hayashi Yoshiki stabbed him again—straight into the gut. Then, with no hesitation, slashed the blade across his throat.
Blood sprayed.
The man's eyes widened. Wet rattling gurgled from his ruined throat as he dropped to his knees... and then, the pavement.
"...Call..."
Hayashi Yoshiki let out a breath.
Then, with a soft smile on his face, he turned his head—without even breaking stride.
Sizzle!
Electric noise crackled.
The black sky, the street, the body, the blood... vanished like an illusion.
In its place—
A domed simulation room.
And not far away stood Gin and the others, hands in pockets.
"Forty-seven seconds..." Vodka glanced at the timer, hesitating. "That's... pretty neat, Cointreau."
The hesitation came from watching what looked like a man possessed. The way Hayashi Yoshiki kept stabbing, even grinning...
It was unsettling.
"Because I took some time observing at first," Hayashi Yoshiki replied, calm as ever. "Otherwise, it would've been faster."
"It's not about observation," Gin said coldly. "You should have been able to end it even faster."
"...I wanted to test how well the simulation replicates real combat."
Gin grunted noncommittally.
But deep down, he had to admit—Hayashi Yoshiki's precision, ruthlessness, and clarity of intent had exceeded expectations.
From the moment he pulled his knife, the kill path had been decided.
Only... he's a little crazy.
From what he'd just witnessed, Gin realized: even without the Death Note, Hayashi Yoshiki could kill a man with his own hands—and not bat an eye.
"Take a break," Gin said. "After that, we'll check on Chianti and Korn's drills."
"Sure."
Hayashi Yoshiki's smile didn't falter.
This was the Black Organization's newly developed simulation facility—
Capable of recreating fully immersive combat scenarios, complete with smell, touch, sound. NPCs generated in real-time for hyper-realistic training.
The "enemy" Hayashi Yoshiki had just fought was a master-level combatant—designed to challenge even Gin.
It reminded him of Cocoon from The Phantom of Baker Street.
A world indistinguishable from reality. Generated by pure calculation.
But unlike Cocoon, this setup was crude—all computing power was used on the enemy AI, while the scenery remained empty and minimal. Still—
If you added the AI processor Noah's Ark... this simulation could reach Cocoon levels.
Which raised the question—
Was the Black Organization connected to Schindler Inc.?
The timeline fit. Both Schindler's breakthrough in AI and the Organization's new simulation tech emerged around the same time. And the Black Organization was scouting top-level programmers...
"Mr. Vodka?"
Hayashi Yoshiki, pulling himself out of his thoughts, noticed Vodka shifting positions—subtly placing himself behind him and Gin.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.