The frequent shootings and explosions in a short period completely shattered the peace in Beika Town.
A killer riding a motorcycle quickly closed in on a red car ahead. Grinning, he slapped a clay bomb onto the door, then suddenly accelerated and sped off.
BOOM!!!!!!!
The instant the killer pressed the detonator, the red car exploded into a ball of fire.
The shockwave propelled the killer forward as he made his escape.
But just as he raced through the intersection and was about to turn, a bullet came out of nowhere—piercing his helmet's visor and splattering blood.
[Nakanuma Landren]
[22:41, October 13 – Killed in an explosion under the overpass at 9-chome, Beika Town]
[Takajo Ryunosuke]
[22:41, October 13 – After killing Nakanuma Rikuto with a sticky bomb, was shot and killed while fleeing]
Elsewhere...
From Beika Town to the port warehouse district, multiple vehicles were locked in a high-speed gunfight.
Brass bullet casings rained down on the cold asphalt. Muzzle flashes flickered in rapid succession, causing innocent drivers to scream and slam on their brakes.
One car—caught in the crossfire—was struck in its fuel tank. In the next second, it erupted into flames, the force launching it off the ground in a horrifying spectacle.
[June Jim]
[22:46, October 13 – Killed in an explosion during a firefight on Beika Town City Expressway when the vehicle's fuel tank was pierced]
Many would die tonight—both those written in the Death Note and those not.
Atop Tokyo Tower, Hayashi Yoshiki stood on the observation deck, arms lightly outstretched as he looked out over the glittering city below.
Small tragedies unfolded like specks of dust amid Tokyo's neon glow. Yet even from this distance, Hayashi could see the chaos playing out below.
He remembered every name written in the Death Note.
By cross-referencing the time and location of each written death, it was as if he could truly witness the moment each soul was taken.
Through his earpiece, Hayashi could hear the chaos erupting:
"These guys are like fleas! Where the hell did they all come from!?"
"Shit!"
BOOM!!!
Most of the killers were targeting Gin and Vodka tonight.
After all, their bounties were still posted on the killer platform—and tonight, alongside the Death Note's pawns, were many freelance assassins acting of their own accord.
And Gin's battered Porsche 356A was just too iconic to miss.
"I checked your location—you're on the expressway now, right?"
Hayashi Yoshiki's voice came through Gin's headset.
Gin didn't look away from the killer ahead, who brandished a submachine gun and glanced toward them.
"What's your current speed?"
Hayashi asked as he walked toward the laptop resting on the ground beside him.
A digital map tracked Gin and Vodka's GPS in real-time. Hayashi made a quick adjustment, pulling up a traffic cam feed of the expressway.
"120 kilometers per hour!" Vodka shouted.
"Good. Keep that speed. Stay in the middle lane. Do you see the large billboard on the right?"
"...I see it!"
Vodka's heart skipped. Was Cointreau about to kill them with a billboard!?
He knew Hayashi Yoshiki—codenamed Cointreau—was a reliable ally, but he couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow offended him. His foot trembled on the accelerator.
Still, slowing down was not an option. He fixed his gaze on the billboard with absolute focus, silently praying it wouldn't come crashing down to flatten them.
"12... 11... 10..."
The countdown began.
Bullets rained down on the old car. It was a miracle Gin's vintage Porsche was still holding up, but Vodka didn't have the luxury of dodging—he kept staring straight ahead, barely blinking.
5... 4... 3...
In a daze, Vodka thought he saw the billboard tremble...
Up ahead, a logging truck had just entered the expressway from a side street. Spooked by the gunfire, the driver panicked and jerked the wheel.
Right at that moment, the iron chains holding the timber snapped.
CRASH!
Massive logs tumbled from the trailer, bouncing and rolling with terrifying force.
Vodka's instincts screamed for him to hit the brakes, but before he could—
"KEEP THE SPEED!"
Gin's sharp voice cut through the chaos.
Vodka swallowed hard and floored the pedal.
Gin clutched the interior handrail, emerald eyes locked on the incoming logs. Death rolled toward them on wooden wheels.
"3… 2… 1…"
BOOM!!!
One massive log crushed the car of a killer directly ahead of them. Whether it was from a bomb or a ruptured fuel tank, the explosion that followed accelerated the log's momentum, launching it sideways.
Gin and Vodka's Porsche slipped through a narrow gap—barely surviving the stampede of lumber.
But their pursuers weren't so lucky. Desperate braking was useless. Seconds later, vehicles were smashed and flattened by the barrage of logs.
In the rearview mirror, Vodka watched the carnage unfold and broke out in a cold sweat.
"Wait… wasn't the trap the billboard?"
"Of course not," Hayashi Yoshiki replied. "I was just asking if you saw the billboard."
"…"
Vodka stared at Gin, who had a rare grin spreading across his usually emotionless face.
This entire operation had been thrown together in haste.
And yet, even with little preparation, Hayashi Yoshiki managed to deliver a stunning result.
Even Gin was surprised.
But Vodka?
He was flat-out terrified.