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I’m nobody, Kuroiwa finally said, his voice like sliding gravel. But you? You’re a ghost now.
Kuroiwa reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, encrypted drive, sliding it across the table. When the detectives came back in, they wouldn't find a confession. They would find a roadmap to a completely different crime—a high-level embezzlement scheme Kuroiwa had stumbled upon months ago. It was enough to keep the precinct busy for years and far more interesting to the press than a "mistaken" murder. [Kuroiwa_Menou]_Machigaerareta_Otoko_The_Mistak...
Kuroiwa didn't answer. He leaned against the cold gray wall, watching the detectives through the one-way glass. He could walk out. His alibi was ironclad because he had spent the night of the crime erasing every trace of his existence. But looking at Sato—at the man’s cheap wedding ring and the way he clutched a crumpled handkerchief—Kuroiwa felt a rare, jagged spark of irritation. I’m nobody, Kuroiwa finally said, his voice like
You’re him, aren’t you? Sato whispered, his voice trembling as he looked at Kuroiwa. The real one. Kuroiwa reached into his jacket and pulled out