sat perched on his desk, his glasses off. He wasn’t eating snacks. That was the first sign of trouble.
"It’s a countdown," Kyoka whispered, pointing to the feather. As they watched, the black ink began to climb up the white fibers like a ticking clock.
"Doesn't matter," Ranpo snapped. "What matters is that the city feels... empty. The Port Mafia is too quiet. Mori is licking his wounds, but is still missing from his usual 'suicide attempt' spots." Bungou Stray Dogs 4 3
emerged from his office, his eyes narrowing. He knew that symbol. It wasn't from the Guild, and it wasn't the Rats. It was a calling card from a ghost of the Great War—a remnant of the "Three-Headed Dog" initiative that predated the Gifted Special Operations Service.
Kunikida froze, his pen hovering. He looked at the page. Three words left in his sentence: "...ensure absolute efficiency." He lowered the pen, his hand trembling slightly. "How did you—" sat perched on his desk, his glasses off
"Kunikida," Ranpo said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "Stop writing. The ink in that pen is going to run out in exactly three words, and the replacement is in the bottom drawer, which is currently jammed because Atsushi dropped a marble in the track."
Just then, the door creaked open. stumbled in, looking pale. Behind him stood Kyoka , her hand gripped tightly on the hilt of her blade. "It’s a countdown," Kyoka whispered, pointing to the
"President," Atsushi called out, his voice cracking. "There’s a gift at the door. No note. Just a single, white feather dipped in black ink."