Perched atop the skeletal frame of a half-finished skyscraper was Shirohara Retsu, and despite the wind howling around the jagged edges of steel and glass, she didn't even flinch.
Wearing her signature white doctor's coat, which whipped violently in the night breeze, she stood at the very precipice of the roof, completely silent.
She looked down at the city below, a sprawling carpet of flickering lights and pulsing neon, with eyes that were cold, indifferent, and completely detached from the millions of lives scurrying beneath her.
To her, the city was nothing more than a petri dish, and the people within were merely cells to be observed, or discarded.
Yes, they weren't humans in her eyes, at most, just a cheap imitation of a human.
She stretched out her hand towards the city below. If she wanted, with a flick of her wrist, she can rain down hundreds of acupuncture needles with the force of a meteorite, completely reducing this city into ruins, killing everything.
