“As for the college student sitting on the passenger seat, he’s a homicidal maniac. He has to kill someone every once in a while in order to let out the repression in his mind. he has just killed a white-collar lady in the washroom in a nightclub named Legend.”
In the mirror, there was his face—young but pale, good-looking, and with a look of odd excitement. Perhaps it was because he had just killed someone. Killing would always offer him such pleasure.