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Kindaichi leaned against the wall while sitting on his bed, exhaling soundly that it sounded like a sigh. Well, it might be a sigh. He didn’t care. He was holding a letter, and after reading it for the four times, the grandson of the famous detective Kindaichi Kosuke threw the letter away. This time he actually sighed. Beside the letter was an envelope, torn in anger and regret – yes, regret, as he was preparing for yet another murder case he was going to see.

It was Takato.

That damn genius murderer claimed to be the Hell’s Puppeteer was going to create another “magic show”. Kindaichi took his phone, calling Inspector Kenmochi to inform him about the letter. He told the inspector in details, and asked him whether Superintendent Akechi had heard the news. After assuring him that it would be okay, that he’d stop the murder from happening, and worst case the murdered would have been carried out, he’d definitely solve the case and catch the culprit. And Takato.

Takato Youichi…

It was because of one case Takato turned from a genius magician into a deadly murderer, a person who didn’t hesitate to take someone else’s life, and used human’s hatred to control them to kill others, for the sake of perfect tricks he called art. He was definitely a despicable person. Who knows how many people he had killed, and how many people he had controlled like a puppet to carry out his murder plans. Kindaichi couldn’t forgive him, only him he wouldn’t ever forgive.

No matter how many times he beat him, no matter how many times he solved the case and put him in jail, that magician always found a way to escape and commit another murder. Takato once tried to kill him, and in another case, framed him just for the sake of humiliating him.

Takato had to be stopped. Kindaichi knew it really well. Or many other people lives would be in danger. He had to do something.

But what else could he do besides waiting for another letter from him and solve the murder case? Takato might have killed other people while he sit around, doing nothing. Kindaichi wanted to help. He wanted to prevent the murder from happening. What should he do?

Then a thought crossed his mind.

Should he just…?

Nah, that wouldn’t do. He, who valued human’s lives, who believed everyone deserved to live, who believed that even the culprits who had committed murders had the right to change – would never take human’s life.

But was that a right choice?

Takato was a cruel, inhumane man. If he continued to live, he might take countless people’s lives. He was the enemy of humanity, whose existence itself was a danger. He was dangerous. He should have died…

Kindaichi closed his eyes. Faintly, he remembered an old story, maybe it was his grandfather who told him, or maybe he read it somewhere else, about a person who committed countless murder, but couldn’t be arrested because there was no evidence that pointed him as the culprit. A smart, terrifying man, whose intelligence guided him to trick others, to make them kill another person. The man who committed perfect crimes. The man who was untouchable by the law.

What did the detective in that story do? Knowing he couldn’t let the man live, he killed him.

Now his situation wasn’t that different.

He couldn’t let Takato live. The police wouldn’t be able to punish him properly. He was the only one who could stop Takato – to end everything.

Kindaichi was a detective. He had solved many cases and tricks. Of course, he could make a perfect murder trick that couldn’t be solved by anyone else. He could do it… he could kill Takato.

But was that a right thing to do? Kindaichi didn’t know the answer.

With a final sigh, he turned off the light, and went to sleep.