Prologue

Under the three-quarters-moon, somewhere on the rooftop symmetries of the Tokyo skyline, a quiet conversation was promising the ruin of one destiny.

A rather tall man dressed in a long, old trench coat the inside of which was lined with radar-scramblers put a filtered cigarette to his mouth and inhaled gratefully. Then, his voice on the edge of a rough cough, he spoke to the smaller figure beside him. “You need to get rid of him before he does something truly drastic. Already his targets have become more randomized, less carefully chosen. He’s losing his mind and you know it. It’s only a matter of time before those cops start finding bodies instead of going through a missing persons report.”

His acquaintance shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t promise you anything, I hope you understand that, Volkov.”

“What has he told you?” the taller one asked.

“Nothing of grand importance.”

“Does he not share his schemes with even his heir?”

This drew a rather tense pause from the second speaker, but then he forced himself to answer calmly: “As you’ve mentioned yourself quite a few times, he’s losing his mind. Perhaps he doesn’t trust anyone anymore, not even me.”

Volkov barked a laugh. “Fair point, my friend.”

They watched the sky for a long moment, just thinking instead of conversing.

“The moon wanes,” the tall one said after a while. “And yet our subjects treads tonight. Out hunting again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“So you’ll have another lost victim on your hands.”

“Yes, that’s what I fear…” The figure beside Volkov suddenly stiffened, but his posture, instead of becoming defensive, blossomed with some unspoken realization.

“What–?” the tall man began to ask, but was cut short when his friend wheeled on him, dark eyes bright in the glow of the white disk in the sky.

“Volkov-sama, something has just occurred to me,” he said rapidly. “But I have no time to explain. My apologies for this suddenness; I must leave immediately. There may not be enough time…”

Volkov frowned. “Go if you must.”

“Farewell, then,” the other said, bowing hurriedly and then spinning around on his heel and dashing away. His feet covered wide distances with ease and then, without even a bit of hesitation, leapt clear off of the edge of the skyscraper, disappearing into the abyss of the skyways down below.

Alone now, Volkov sighed. Curiosity wrecked him, but he suppressed the urge to follow the other. “Good luck, little Alpha,” he murmured instead, glancing upward. “May the Moon guide you well.”