The thunder rumbled dully, and dark clouds overturned the sea and the plain. The train's head accelerated, plunging towards the U-shaped track. Fushimi Roku stood at the carriage door, turned around, and locked eyes with Kazama Chihime, who was holding a knife.
"Is Mr. Fushimi the type to sacrifice for justice?" Kazama Chihime leaned on the console with the knife in both hands: "The old train doesn't have a circuit box, nor does it come with a manual... now that the brakes are broken, we can only wait to die together."
"Did you misunderstand something?"
Fushimi Roku drew a pistol from his waist and calmly removed the safety and chambered a round: "There's no way I'd die for such a trivial reason... there's only one reason I'm staying."
"Oh my, is it for me?" Kazama Chihime covered her mouth with one hand, looking surprised and flattered.
"Yes," Fushimi Roku admitted.
"Then how do you plan to survive?" Kazama Chihime was very curious.
