Kuro Asen's POV
Morning in Neo-Kyoto Police Division 4 smells like burnt toast, cold noodles, and broken dreams.
I pushed the glass door open and immediately regretted it.
"Detective Kuro! You're late!"
That would be Sergeant Reika Kamizaki, my eternal headache in human form. Mid-40s, hair always tied in a bun so tight it could probably slice glass, and eyes like an eagle that drank too much coffee.
"I'm not late," I grunted, heading for the back corner where my desk sulked next to the emergency exit.
"You clocked in five minutes after roll call."
"That's still on the same minute hand."
"That's not how time works, Kuro."
"It is if you bend the rules enough."
I dropped into my chair and leaned back. My desk was a mess—crime photos, cold case files, and three empty coffee cups shaped like a crime scene of their own. I reached for one, sniffed it, and immediately gagged.
"Gods. That's older than my last relationship."
"Was that the one with the banshee or the cursed florist?"
I looked up. Detective Sho Ueda grinned over the partition, his tie hanging like a dying snake and his stubble competing with mine. Sho's been here almost as long as me. He likes ramen, conspiracy theories, and poking dead things with sticks.
"Neither," I said. "It was the necromancer who made soup with bone broth... from actual bones."
He winced. "TMI, man. Speaking of bones, you bring anything juicy from last night's corpse parade?"
Before I could answer, the door slammed open and in marched Lieutenant Mina Hoshino—bright-eyed, too clean, and with a coffee in each hand.
"Oh good," I muttered. "She survived the trauma."
"Morning, everyone!" she chirped. "I brought coffee!"
"Are you always like this?" I asked.
"Like what?"
"Alive before noon."
She handed me a cup. "You're welcome."
I took a sip. It was sweet. Too sweet. Probably had sugar.
"You're trying to kill me."
"No, I'm trying to humanize you."
"Same thing."
Sergeant Reika clapped her hands sharply. "Alright, enough flirting, weirdos. We have a pattern, people. Four bodies. Same M.O. Same trauma to the brain. Same time of night."
She flicked on the holoscreen. Four corpses lit up—names, ages, and cause of death. All male. All aged between twenty and twenty-five. All with eyes wide open like they'd seen a demon dancing salsa in their final seconds.
Which, knowing this city, might not be far from the truth.
"We need theories," Reika barked.
"Serial killer with a flair for the dramatic?" Sho offered.
"Unlikely. No human leaves wounds like that." I stood and walked to the screen. "Those aren't knife marks. They're claw marks. And this one…" I pointed to the third body. "His spine is missing. Clean extraction. No blood."
Mina coughed. "So… Soul Eaters?"
Everyone went quiet.
Sho blinked. "I thought those were just something rookies made up to scare interns."
"Welcome to the truth," I said, sipping coffee. "They're real. And they're multiplying."
Reika folded her arms. "Then this just got above our pay grade. The higher-ups will want a report."
I groaned. "Great. Because explaining ghost-hungry monsters to bureaucrats is so much fun."
"Think they'll send in the S-Class exorcists?" Sho whispered.
"Probably," I muttered. "And then blame us when it all goes sideways."
Mina raised her hand like we were in a school club. "Can I ask something?"
"No," Reika said.
"Yes," Sho said.
"I don't care," I said.
She took that as a yes. "Why don't we go straight to the source? The mark on Detective Kuro lets him see the victims' last moments, right? Why don't we trace it backwards—see if the spirit world knows where these creatures are hiding?"
The room went silent.
Everyone looked at me.
"I already tried. But the veil's noisy right now. Every dead person in a ten-mile radius won't shut up."
Sho leaned forward. "What do they say?"
"That I owe them money. That I should date their ghost daughters. That one of them is the real Emperor of Japan reincarnated and I need to avenge his death."
Mina blinked. "You're joking."
I looked her dead in the eye. "Am I?"
Suddenly, a breeze brushed past my ear.
"Kurooo~ it's me again… the guy who died in a bathtub with pickles. You still haven't finished my crossword puzzle!"
I slapped the air beside me. "Go away, Gerald!"
Everyone stared. Mina tilted her head.
"You just… slapped a ghost?"
I rubbed my temple. "You don't understand. I attract the annoying ones. They don't want justice—they want therapy."
Sho laughed so hard he nearly dropped his tablet.
Reika sighed. "Alright. I want reports on my desk by nightfall. Kuro, take Mina and run her through the cold case archives. She needs to know what we're dealing with."
"Fine," I muttered. "But if she gets possessed by a bored samurai again, I'm not dealing with it."
Later – Bar WanoBrew, 9:12 PM
WanoBrew was a dive bar. Cracked tiles, flickering lights, and a bartender who looked like he used to wrestle ogres in his spare time.
But the beer was cold, the food was greasy, and the jukebox only played sad jazz and anime openings.
"Welcome, Rookie!" Sho said, lifting a frothy mug toward Mina. "To surviving your first 24 hours with Detective Gloom over here."
Mina raised her mug. "Thanks! Honestly, it wasn't that bad."
"Give it a week," I muttered.
Reika sipped whiskey like a war general. Sho tried to teach Mina how to throw darts but mostly just made a fool of himself. I sat at the end of the booth, sipping black coffee.
I couldn't drink. Alcohol made the Mark more reactive. Last time I tried sake, I saw a three-headed dog spirit perform kabuki in my bathtub.
Suddenly…
"Kurooooooo."
I groaned.
Mina noticed. "Dead person again?"
"Yep."
"Kuro, it's me! Cynthia! Remember? The lady who choked on dumplings during karaoke? You never came to my funeral!"
"Because I didn't know you!" I hissed.
"Liar! I sang My Heart Will Go On for you!"
"I'm going to scream."
Sho glanced over. "Kuro talking to his invisible karaoke girlfriend again?"
"Her name was Cynthia, and she's a menace."
"I heard that."
I slammed my head gently against the table. "Make it stop."
Mina giggled. "You're like a ghost magnet."
"Correction," I said. "I'm like a trash can for emotional baggage and spiritual drama."
"Ouch," Cynthia sniffled. "I died singing for you…"
"You also stole someone's coat and passed out on miso soup."
She vanished in a puff of glitter.
Sho raised a brow. "Did she just rage quit the afterlife?"
"I hope so."