Kamurochō.
The nightlife in this street was as bustling as ever, with pedestrians coming and going, immersed in the dazzling lights, wine, and luxury.
And at the intersection of Kamurochō, a group of people slowly approached.
It wasn't unusual for people to come to Kamurochō, but these people themselves were quite strange.
Among them were men and women, young and old. Each person's attire was quite ordinary, with some dressed as chefs, maids, or even in sailor uniforms and other peculiar outfits. If it were only this, it would just be odd, but each of these people held various weapons—kitchen knives, baseball bats, iron pipes... And they all wore pure white masks, seemingly crying and smiling at the same time, on their faces.
A hundred people, two hundred people, three hundred people…
