“Ha-ha……”
He steadied the hollow sense of loss.
Everything felt unbearably laughable.
To think all this tragedy began with the tyranny of a mad Outer God.
This wasn’t ‘my’ story.
There was a different protagonist. He was nothing but a wretched accessory dragged along. God had not given him a chance.
Empty, futile!
Was there any meaning in continuing?
It was like David versus Goliath. No, worse than that.
All his countless thrashings to save Gyeon Jioh had, in the end, been a futile digging of holes.
A tidal wave of doubt and self-loathing surged in. He tried to get free of it, but he couldn’t shake the despair rising in his chest.
A fight with no chance of victory.
With gains and losses rendered meaningless, a man who’d lived his whole life as a calculating mafioso had no reason to go on.
Kido just kept walking.
He left the North Sea, left Syracuse, left the Mediterranean, and farther still. He left behind the world where Gyeon Jioh existed.
67th Succession.
Disappearance—or resignation.
✧
The life he let flow past while he stayed hidden was peaceful beyond compare.
Nothing happened at all.
The whole world was being swung about by a mad star, so storms were hard to avoid—but that didn’t apply to him.
Kido had a perfect bolt-hole…