Ryūta Fujiwara, a 26-year-old male, is employed at a medium-sized business as an accountant.
He has brown eyes and black hair. He has a formal jacket over his white shirt, matching formal slacks underneath, and a blue business tie.
The left hand He is sporting a round-dialed watch on his left wrist that reads 10:37 PM. waiting for the bus to arrive at the bus stop.
The surrounding road reflects the dim yellow light from the bus stop. A little tree near the bus stop has its leaves swinging in the light wind. This bus stop is situated right next to the crossroads.
Something vibrated in Ryūta's slacks pocket while he was waiting for the bus. Most likely, it was his phone.He stares at the screen of his phone after taking it out of his pocket. His mother had left three missed calls on the phone.
"She needs cash again; she doesn't call to ask how I'm doing," he says with a tired sigh. There was sadness and gloom in his voice.
With hesitation, he presses the icon to make a call to his mom.The call is received after a few rings of the caller's tune, and he puts the phone to his ear to begin speaking.
"Hello, Mom. I got your call, but I was at the office at that moment, so I was unable to receive it," he says, taking a brief breath before speaking into the phone.
"You say what?"
She spoke harshly and rudely.
" I-I am sor--"
"I am not keen on hearing all of it. Just let me know when you're going to send the money."She interrupted him.
"I have yet to receive my salary, but I will do my best to give it to you before next Monday."
"You're useless to me, huh? Not even a small amount of money can be given to your mother."She spoke loudly.
This loud noise makes Ryūta move the phone's speaker away from his ear.
"Don't call me your mother unless you send me the money by Monday of next week."
The speaker of the phone was not near in his ear, but he could still hear his mother yelling.This is what his mother says before hanging up the phone.
"Mother, eh?" He gave a sad little grin.
His phone is back in his pocket as he looks across the road at the faraway standing truck.
Strangely, a grey carriage truck was parked at a spot on the side of a dark road at the intersection close to the bus stop, where the whole road was silent. The truck had an entirely blank number plate, which made it odd.
Inside the truck, a dark someone reclined in the driver's seat, his legs resting on the truck's steering and his back entirely rested on the seat.
The phone in his pocket rings all of a sudden. He reaches inside his shirt pocket and pulls out his phone.The name of the individual calling as God is displayed on the screen.
The dark figure immediately moves his legs from the steering wheel to the near breaks and adjusts the seat to its regular position after reading the caller's name.
After clearing his throat a bit, he selected the green symbol to answer the call and switched it to speaker mode.
A somewhat gruff voice, seemingly belonging to a person in their 70s, came from the other end of the phone.
"There is an urgent situation at the moment; please send me someone who is kind as soon as feasible."
"There's always an emergency situation. Don't you realize that I'm now on vacation? Please don't bother me over the holidays."
The dark figure seated on the driver's seat spoke in an argumentative manner.
"Please, just this once; I swear I won't annoy you in such a way again." Over the phone, the elderly voice made a request.
"Okay, let me take a look. Who is available at this hour?"
The dark figure asked, scratching the back of his neck in frustration. A dark figure saw a man standing at the bus stop after glancing through the truck's front window.
"Will the man be okay? Right?" Figure asked over the phone.
"Gender won't really make a difference."
"Alright, I'll send the man straight up." The figure said, grinning, and hung up the phone.
"Well, this will be quick." While turning the key and starting the engine, the figure seated on the driver's seat said.
The person shifted gears, hit the accelerator pedal, and began to drive the truck toward the man standing at the bus stop.
The truck, a metal monster bursting for speed, surged forward, its tires churning up dust clouds as it sped down the road. As the vehicle swung violently, a massive pivot against the road, time seemed to slow.
He hardly had time to react before the inexorable force struck him, sending him crashing into the cold metal of the bus stop with a terrifying reverberation of splintered wood and screeching brakes.
The truck's engine unit was emitting smoke, the crash had bent the front end, and Ryūta's blood was all over the vehicle.
The person inside the truck grinned evilly and flicked his fingers, turning the damaged truck into a brand-new one as if it had never been in an accident at the bus stop.
Ryūta had fallen on the road, his white shirt stained with blood, his face expressing shock at what hell had occurred to him.
His eyes are becoming heavy, and he can no longer open them; instead, he can only see flashes of his former memories. After some time, he can no longer feel his body; he is dead now, and all he can see is emptiness.
His breathing is getting more laboured, as if he is having trouble breathing, and his heartbeat is gradually becoming weaker.