Page 152 of Mercy Written in Blood

Darkness waited inside. Not natural darkness — the power had been cut, but morning light should have entered through gaps in the roof and painted windows. Instead, black sheeting covered every opening.

Daisuke switched on a torch. The beam crossed an empty concrete floor. No crates. No equipment. No people. Nothing. The warehouse smelled of bleach.

Haruki stopped at the threshold. Not old bleach. Fresh. Sharp enough to sting the back of his throat.

"They cleared it," Reina said.

Her voice echoed. Daisuke entered first. Ken followed. Haruki stepped inside. The space was larger than it appeared from outside. Steel supports divided it into long aisles. A mezzanine ran along the far wall. Plastic sheeting had been taped over every window and ventilation opening.

The floor gleamed. Someone had washed it. Not casually. Professionally. Water remained in the shallow cracks between concrete sections.

Reina crouched and touched one gloved finger to the surface.

"Still wet."

Haruki looked across the empty building.

"They were here this morning."

"Likely," Ken said.

"After we received the address?"

He did not answer. No one needed to.

They moved deeper inside. Every step sounded too loud. The warehouse had not merely been abandoned. It had been erased. Bolt holes remained where machinery had been removed. Clean rectangles marked the walls where shelving or boards had hung. Electrical cables ended in precise cuts. Even rubbish had been collected — no discarded bottle caps, no cigarette ends, no paper, no fingerprints left accidentally on forgotten surfaces.

Daisuke swept his light across the nearest wall.

"Something was mounted here."

Haruki approached. A large pale rectangle interrupted the grime. Near each corner, fresh screw marks remained in the concrete.

"A map?" Reina asked.

"Board," Ken said. "Maybe surveillance screens."

Haruki looked towards the centre of the warehouse. Dark lines marked where tables had stood. Six rows. The arrangement reminded him of an operations room. Not storage.

"Photograph everything," he said.

Ken raised his phone.

"No signal."

Haruki checked his own. Nothing.

"Jammer?" Reina asked.

"Possibly."

Daisuke pointed towards the roof.

"Could be inside."

They continued. At the rear of the building, a narrow office had been built beneath the mezzanine. Its door stood open. Unlike everything else, neither the desk nor the chair had been removed.

Haruki entered last.