The stream ended abruptly, leaving only the faint glow of a phone screen in the darkness of the alley. A distorted voice had spoken of lies, disappearances, and a rider scrawled in chalk upon cracked brick walls. Then, silence. Only silence.
But silence in Ikebukuro never lasted long.
On the WHISPR app, a new task appeared almost instantly.
> TASK #47
Find the chalk rider. Take a photo. Proof required. Reward: 50,000 yen.
Within minutes, comments poured in. Some mocked the post as a hoax. Others swore the rider was real. But in a city where rumor often meant reality, no one dared ignore it completely.
Morning – Ginkaku High
The next day, sunlight filtered through the classroom blinds as Haruki Minobe sat at his desk, staring out the window. His notebook was open, though nothing had been written in it. He looked detached, as though school was merely a stage, and he a reluctant actor forced to play his role.
The door slid open. Rikuya Jōnouchi strolled in, still in his baseball gear, flashing his usual grin.
“Transfer-kun!” Rikuya dropped into his seat with the energy of someone who had already played a full game. “You catch that stream last night?”
Haruki didn’t bother looking at him. “No.”
Rikuya gasped dramatically. “Then you’re the only one in this class who didn’t. Half the school’s talking about it some guy in an alley, saying there’s a rider in black grabbing people off the streets. Sounds like your kind of thing.”
From the back row, Kaoru Shinomiya leaned forward, a mischievous smile playing across his lips. “Maybe it was your long-lost twin, Minobe. You’ve got that gloomy look down.”
“Thanks,” Haruki replied dryly. He didn’t smile. The simplicity of the response only made the class laugh harder. Kaoru chuckled, satisfied.
Afternoon – Mystery Clubroom
The Mystery Club’s room was a clutter of half-burnt candles, old posters of Kyoto legends, and boxes filled with records no one outside the club would believe. Sunlight barely reached through the curtains, leaving the president, Yui Amamiya, lit only by the blue glow of her phone.
“Task forty-seven,” she said at last, breaking the silence. “It’s spreading. Whoever made it knows what they’re doing.”
Across from her, Haruki sat with arms crossed. “Or they’re setting bait.”
Rikuya, leaning against the wall with his ever-present grin, practically vibrated with excitement. “Either way, we should take it! Imagine if we cracked the case before anyone else. The Mystery Club would finally get noticed.”
“This isn’t baseball, Jōnouchi.” Yui’s eyes flicked up. “You can’t swing at everything. It could be dangerous.”
Haruki’s voice was quiet, yet sharp enough to cut through the tension. “Danger attracts attention.”
The words hung in the room like smoke. Even Rikuya fell silent for a beat. Yui finally exhaled, lowering her phone.
“…Fine. We’ll investigate,” she decided. “But keep in mind we’re not the only ones.”
She turned her screen so both could see. On WHISPR, dozens of users were already replying to the same task, each determined to uncover the truth first.
Elsewhere in Ikebukuro
In a small café, Masaomi Kida leaned back in his chair, frowning at the same glowing app. Across from him, Anri Sonohara sipped her tea quietly, her eyes unreadable behind her glasses.
“Déjà vu, huh?” Masaomi muttered. “Rumors spreading, people disappearing, gangs stirring up again… I thought we left this behind.”
“Rumors don’t die,” Anri replied softly. “They just change form.”
Masaomi forced a smile, but his hand tightened around his phone. “Then maybe it’s time we stepped in before the city drowns in them again.”
Not far away, Shizuo Heiwajima lit a cigarette on Sunshine Street. His already frayed nerves only worsened as two teenagers argued nearby about whether the chalk rider was real. Their voices grew louder, more obnoxious, until Shizuo bit down hard on the cigarette.
“…This city never learns,” he growled, smoke curling around his words.
And above them all, perched on a rooftop with the city sprawling beneath him, Izaya Orihara twirled his phone between his fingers. His grin was sharp, his eyes sparkling with cruel amusement.
“Anonymous tasks, spreading fear, drawing humans together while driving them apart… exquisite.” He laughed softly, leaning against the railing. “Almost like a new god has been born in Ikebukuro.”
But the phone stopped spinning. His smile thinned.
“…The question is, who’s really pulling the strings?”
Kifune District – Night
The same alley from the stream lay in silence once more. The chalk drawing of the rider had changed. The X that once marked the helmet was gone, erased by unseen hands.
And in its place, dripping in red paint, were words that sent a chill down the spine of anyone who read them:
SILENCE THE WITNESSES.
A lone student stopped in his tracks, phone trembling in his hands as he raised it to take a photo. His WHISPR app buzzed violently.
> TASK #48
Eliminate the next person who reads this message.
His breath caught. The alley suddenly seemed much darker than before.
And then footsteps echoed behind him.
.................To be continued…
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