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  The torrential rain of the previous night had failed to wash away the bloodstains on the asphalt. The stench of sewage regurgitated from the drains mingled with the metallic tang of blood, assaulting the senses. Inside the police cordon, it wasn't a traffic accident scene. It was a slaughterhouse.

  "...A bomb terror attack, you say?"

  Major Kageyama tapped the tip of his nose with a gloved hand. His voice was dry. He seemed more concerned about dust settling on his pristine white gloves than the mutilated corpses scattered at his feet.

  "Y-yes, sir! That's correct! The Independence Army must have used a new type of explosive!"

  Cold sweat trickled down the temple of the Military Police Lieutenant. His gaze was fixed on the crumpled mass of scrap metal that used to be a truck. The three-ton steel chassis was as grotesque as an aluminum can crushed by a giant's grip.

  "A bomb..."

  Kageyama walked slowly.

  Squelch, squelch.

  His military boots sank into the mud with every step. A dark crimson liquid—a mixture of rain and blood—soaked the toes of his shoes. He passed indifferently by a corpse with its head burst open, spilling brain matter, and another with its chest caved in, spine protruding from its back.

  He stopped in front of the overturned truck. The driver's side door had been ripped off, and the steel bonnet was twisted like taffy.

  "Where are the traces of explosives?"

  Kageyama ran a finger along the torn metal edge.

  "W-well... we assume they were washed away by the rain..."

  "Idiot."

  Kageyama rapped his gloved knuckles against the bent steel frame. Clack, clack.

  "Explosions come with heat. Metal should melt, or there should be soot. But look at this."

  Where he pointed, there was no soot, but a distinct mark.

  The steel plate was caved inward. It wasn't a dent from a collision. It was a mark left by something gripping the steel and ripping it apart.

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  Five finger marks.

  An imprint of overwhelming grip strength, engraving even the wrinkles of the knuckles into the steel.

  "This isn't thermodynamics. It's mechanics."

  Kageyama crouched down and placed his own hand over the handprint embedded in the bumper.

  It matched the size of a human hand perfectly. But the output was not human.

  "Lieutenant. Have you ever heard steel scream when a bomb goes off?"

  "Sir? What do you mean..."

  "This wouldn't have been an explosion sound. It would have been the sound of metal tearing. Very slowly, and very horrifically."

  Kageyama stood up and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dusting the fine metal filings off his gloves.

  "Autopsy report."

  "Ah, here it is!"

  The Lieutenant hurriedly handed over a file. Kageyama's eyes scanned the paper rapidly.

  [Victim 1: Comminuted fracture of the skull. Presumed blunt force trauma.]

  [Victim 2: Cardiac rupture due to thoracic compression. Ribs fractured throughout the body.]

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