Three days had passed since the confrontation between The Ghost and Satsujin Sha. The assassin repyed their brief exchange over and over in his mind. The killer’s words echoed with a chilling finality: “You are free, but when I’m in the mood, I’ll kill you.” It was as if Satsujin Sha had decided to toy with him, as though the assassin’s life was nothing more than a temporary pause in the deadly game Satsujin was orchestrating.

  During those three days, Satsujin struck again, killing multiple people across different cities. The Ghost had tracked his movements, staying one step behind, blending into the crowds and shadows. Satsujin moved with the ease of a man who knew he was untouchable. But even in his arrogance, the killer never noticed The Ghost spying on him, observing every detail, every move.

  The assassin watched from a distance as Satsujin prepared for his next act—a public event, a high-profile gathering that could offer the perfect stage for the killer’s next brutal performance. But the true question on The Ghost’s mind was: why? What was Satsujin pnning, and how did this event tie into his rger scheme?

  The event was a prestigious charity ga held in Berlin, attended by politicians, celebrities, and business leaders. It was the perfect pce for someone like Satsujin to blend in, his dark intentions concealed beneath the veil of luxury and gmour. As The Ghost surveilled the venue, he realized something: this ga bore a striking resembnce to the one Mr. A had mentioned, the event from 2010 that connected many of Satsujin’s previous victims.

  Dressed in a tuxedo, Satsujin mingled with the crowd, his demeanor charming, his smile disarming. He looked like any other wealthy attendee, ughing at conversations and raising his gss to toast with the elite. But The Ghost knew better. This was the calm before the storm.

  From his hidden position, The Ghost kept his eyes fixed on Satsujin, tracking his movements through the glittering hall. He had to be ready for anything—there was no telling when the killer would strike. But one thing was clear: Satsujin’s presence here was no coincidence. This was part of his grand design.

  Back in Tokyo, Mr. A was on a conference call with the German police task force. His voice was firm, and his mind was sharp as he id out his theory, one that he had pieced together from years of studying Satsujin Sha.

  “Recall the incident from 2010,” Mr. A began, his tone filled with urgency. “It was a charity ga in Tokyo, very simir to the one being held tonight in Berlin. The victims from that event—many of them connected by business, w, or politics—have all been systematically eliminated by Satsujin Sha in the years since.”

  The officers on the call were silent, absorbing the information.

  “This is not a random killing spree. Satsujin Sha is finishing something he started back in 2000. Every murder, every string left behind at the crime scenes, points back to that single event. He’s recreating a pattern, targeting those who were involved that night.”

  One officer broke the silence, his voice skeptical but curious. “But why now? Why is he coming back to this after all these years?”

  Mr. A leaned forward, his eyes scanning the details of the event on his ptop screen. “Because there is one st piece of the puzzle. The charity event tonight in Berlin—many of the same people who were at the 2000 ga are attending. It’s no coincidence that Satsujin is there. He pns to finish what he started.”

  The realization struck the task force hard. This wasn’t just another murder—this was the culmination of a decade-long pn.

  Despite Mr. A’s warnings, many officers were still hesitant to act on what they saw as a complex theory. The patterns, the symbolic strings, and the idea of a decade-long pn seemed far-fetched to some. But a few detectives who had followed Satsujin’s crimes closely began to see the truth. They knew Mr. A’s insights were the best lead they had.

  “We can’t afford to wait,” Mr. A said firmly. “You need to increase security at that event. Quietly, so as not to alert Satsujin, but you must be ready for him to strike.”

  The head of the task force, after a brief pause, finally nodded. “We’ll proceed carefully. But if this is part of a rger pn, we can’t afford to let him slip away.”

  Meanwhile, inside the vish ga hall, Satsujin moved through the crowd like a predator among sheep, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He knew the authorities were watching him, knew they were trying to piece together his pn. But it didn’t matter. They would never understand the full scope of his design until it was too te.

  He moved toward the stage, where speeches were being made, his presence barely noticed in the sea of high-profile guests. As the lights dimmed for the evening’s entertainment, Satsujin smiled. He wasn’t going to strike here—not yet. No, tonight was about the final preparation. Soon, he would reveal the true purpose behind his killings, the meaning of the red strings, and the final act that would make the world remember his name forever.

  From his vantage point, The Ghost saw everything. He saw Satsujin’s calcuted movements, the way he positioned himself in the hall, always near the exits, always in control. But something was different tonight. The Ghost could feel it in the air. Satsujin was waiting for something, biding his time.

  As The Ghost surveyed the room, he noticed something else—people in the crowd who looked vaguely familiar. Some of them had been present at the charity event in 2000. Mr. A’s theory was more than just pusible—it was real. This was the final act of a pn that had been set in motion years ago.

  The Ghost’s mind raced as he thought about what could come next. Satsujin was pying his game masterfully, but now, The Ghost had a chance to be ahead of him. He couldn’t allow another murder. Not tonight.

  The night continued, the guests unaware of the danger that loomed in their midst. The Ghost stayed hidden, blending into the shadows, his eyes never leaving Satsujin. But even with all his skill, all his training, there was a growing sense of dread gnawing at him.

  Satsujin’s game was about to reach its climax, and whatever he had pnned, it was more than just another murder.

  As the night deepened, The Ghost reached for his phone and dialed Mr. A.

  “He’s going to do something big tonight,” The Ghost said, his voice tense. “I can feel it. The people here… some of them are the same ones from 2000. Your theory was right.”

  On the other end, Mr. A nodded slowly, his mind working at lightning speed. “We need to be ready. The final act is about to begin.”

  The Ghost clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed on Satsujin across the room. The killer moved toward the stage, his hand slipping into his jacket.

  It was time.

  Author:Sorry, for the dey because I have viral fever ?