Four days had passed. Ren was still alive. That alone was Harumichi's lifeline now. The Kamome Wharf in early afternoon reeked of salt and rust mixed together. Harumichi opened the sliding door of Warehouse 3 and stepped inside. Same face as always. Same walk as always. Five members were there. Two sat on the sofa, staring at their phones. One searched for something near the tool rack. One stood before the whiteboard, studying a map of Tatsumi Pass. The last one leaned against the wall, drinking canned coffee. Harumichi knew all their faces. But today, he had to see them differently. He didn't know which one. But one of them—definitely—was leaking information to Takamura Ryuichi. Harumichi sat at the edge of the sofa. Back against the wall. He pulled out his phone. Pretended to look at something. Only his eyes moved. Was anyone operating their phone unnaturally? Did anyone's eyes dart away the moment they met his? Was anyone secretly watching him? No one. Everyone was normal. The sofa guys seemed to be playing a game. Laughter came occasionally. The tool rack guy found a wrench. "Found it, found it," he said. The guy at the whiteboard crossed his arms. "Eleventh curve. That's where people always lose control," he muttered to himself. Normal. All of them, too normal. Harumichi felt something break inside. He was watching his teammates' faces with suspicion. The act itself was painful. They'd ridden together. Eaten at Marusen. Every time Ren did something stupid, they'd all held their heads in their hands. Those memories existed. Yet now he was analyzing their movements. No one looked like a traitor. That's what terrified him. One hour in the warehouse. He learned nothing. Only Harumichi's anxiety stacked quietly higher. 　　　＊ Near evening. The sky turned orange. "[serious]Come with me for a bit." Ren appeared at the warehouse entrance and called to Harumichi. Those water-blue eyes looked straight at him. Harumichi stood. He followed Ren outside. Ren walked toward the wharf's edge. Harumichi followed silently. The wharf's edge was a concrete pier. It jutted into the sea. Water surrounded everything. At this hour, no one was here. Only wave sounds. Ren reached the pier's end and stopped. He looked at the sea. Harumichi stood beside him. The orange-tinted water surface rippled. A fishing boat moved slowly in the distance. Both stayed silent for a while. "[gentle]Something wrong?" Ren spoke without turning from the sea. Harumichi paused slightly. "[serious]Nothing." Ren said nothing. Waves continued their sound. "[gentle]You had a hard face the whole time in the warehouse. I thought maybe something was bothering you about the members." Harumichi looked at Ren's profile. Ren kept watching the sea. His silver ear piercing caught the evening light. He wasn't smiling like usual. Not serious either. Just quiet. Normal. Harumichi understood. Ren wasn't cornering him. He wasn't interrogating. Just noticed. That's all. "[gentle]Well, if you're not saying anything, that's fine. Tell me whenever you want." Ren tapped Harumichi's shoulder once. Light tap. But it carried real weight. Harumichi wanted to say something. But his voice wouldn't come. He wanted to tell everything. About the spy. About Takamura. What would happen at Tatsumi Pass. And what would happen to Ren—— He couldn't say it. After that, they talked about bikes for a while. Engine acceleration. How to take the third curve at Tatsumi Pass. Rambling talk. Ren suddenly pointed at a seagull flying overhead. "That guy's riding the wind perfectly," he said. Harumichi looked. True. It glided without flapping once. When the conversation paused, Ren suddenly spoke. "[serious]I really like this team, you know." His voice was unusually serious. Harumichi looked at Ren's face. Ren watched the sea. His profile lit by the sunset. No excitement like usual. Just quiet. Like he was telling the truth. "[serious]Because you hold us together, Harumichi. That's why we don't fall apart." Something tightened in his chest. One year later—exactly six days later—this team would scatter. Ren would die. No one would have the will to hold them together. They'd leave one by one. Harumichi couldn't stop it. The words to stop it never came. He knew this moment was almost becoming a farewell. "[serious]……Yeah." That's all he could say. Ren turned toward Harumichi and smiled slightly. His serious face crumbled. The usual Ren returned. "[excited]Let's grab food already. I'm starving." Harumichi watched that back and followed one step behind. The wave sounds faded away. 　　　＊ Deep night. Harumichi parked his bike in the shadows of an alley before Nishizaki Industrial Zone. He cut the engine. Silence. No people around. One streetlight stood far away. Black silhouettes of abandoned factories lined the night sky. Nishizaki Industrial Zone—the city's west side. Factories packed densely. Sixty percent still operated. The rest were abandoned. Glauben used this area as their base. The old Kouzuki Steel Plant Number Two. Three-story steel frame. Takamura was inside. Harumichi got off and walked. He moved silently across cracked asphalt. The path between factories was about six meters wide. Mostly straight. Dark. No sign of people yet. Wind blew. Factory metal groaned. Harumichi circled to the back of the old Kouzuki Steel Plant Number Two. He pressed his back against the wall and peeked around the corner. Light leaked out. Thin light from a first-floor window. Human voices. Muffled. Words unclear. But multiple people. Harumichi steadied his breathing. He moved closer slowly. Using wall shadows. One step at a time. A single grain of gravel on the concrete. He shifted his foot to avoid it. South side of the factory. Three meters from the window. He looked. Four Glauben members were there. Pushing a cart. Metal oil cans stacked on it. Ten-liter cans. Six of them. They carried them deeper into the factory. Something screamed in Harumichi's memory. He knew. The contents of those cans would be spread on Tatsumi Pass's cliff section. Fifty meters before the seventh curve. Oil would be poured on the road surface by Takamura's order. Ren would lose control there. Break through the guardrail—— He pulled out his phone. Opened the camera. He reached for the window frame to angle better. A man near the factory entrance turned toward him. A lookout. Harumichi hadn't noticed. Their eyes met for one instant——maybe. Maybe they didn't. But that instant was terrifying. Harumichi retreated into shadow. No time to think. He ran. Back the way he came. Gravel crunched. Didn't matter. He turned. Factory corner. Turned again. Different road. Out of the streetlight. Dark. But running. Fifty meters to the bike. A voice behind him. "Who's there!" Running. He straddled the bike. Inserted the key. Engine started. Opened the throttle. Tires screamed. He tore through the dark industrial zone roads. He didn't get the evidence. But——he saw it. Oil cans being brought into the factory. The plan was moving. Definitely. 　　　＊ Harumichi returned to Shiokaze Street past midnight. He parked his bike in an alley and walked under the arcade. Few people at this hour. Most shops had shutters closed. Only streetlights faintly lit the concrete. An old shopping street from the Showa era. Sign letters were faded. He walked to calm himself. He'd left the industrial zone. The lookout hadn't followed. But he couldn't relax. Harumichi checked his surroundings while walking. Thirty meters ahead, a vending machine glowed. Harumichi walked there and bought canned coffee. It was warm. Heat transferred to his palm. He took a sip and walked again. Then something felt wrong. He looked back. Fifty meters behind, a man stood alone. In the arcade's shadows. Standing. Harumichi stopped. The man stopped too. Harumichi tested it. He deliberately walked slowly into a nearby alley. The man followed. Cold spread through his chest. Harumichi went deeper into the alley and turned a corner. He stopped and waited. The man's footsteps approached. Harumichi pressed his back against the concrete wall and waited for the man to turn the corner. The man appeared. Harumichi saw his face directly. Early twenties. Short black hair. Expressionless. Streetlight hit at an angle. In that light, Harumichi saw the tattoo on the man's right wrist. A black cross. Silver outline. Glauben's emblem. Harumichi saw that tattoo. One second. That's all. The man said nothing. Just watched Harumichi. Harumichi said nothing either. Next moment, Harumichi sprinted through the alley. Ran to his bike. Inserted the key. Engine. Throttle. Rode into the night. He didn't look back. No need to. He understood. Takamura already knew Harumichi's movements. That tonight's reconnaissance at Nishizaki Industrial Zone——probably already. Harumichi rode while thinking. Did he tell anyone he was going to the industrial zone? No. Then why did Takamura know? Only one answer. One of the warehouse members today——observed Harumichi's behavior and reported to Takamura. Either predicted where he'd go or had him followed. The spy was active. Today. Tonight. Harumichi rode and lined up each warehouse member's face in his mind. The guy laughing on the sofa. The tool rack guy. The guy at the whiteboard. The guy drinking canned coffee. All their faces appeared. All their faces had question marks. Who is it. A bike ran along the dark seaside road. Wind cut his cheeks. Salt smell stabbed his nose. He had to find the spy. Before Ren died. Before Takamura made his move. Six days left. Harumichi clenched his teeth and rode straight into the darkness.