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PS: In order to contact you, I took the liberty of borrowing your friend’s address. This was the simplest and safest way to contact you, so please forgive me. Regardless of whether you agree to help me or not, I need you to destroy this computer within twenty-four hours of reading this message.

When she finished reading, Misora immediately reread the entire message and finally checked the sender’s name again.

L.

She might be suspended, but she was still an FBI agent, and obviously she recognized the name—it would have been unforgivable had she not. She briefly considered the idea that Raye Penber, or someone else, was playing a practical joke on her, but she found it hard to believe anyone would be so bold to sign their name as such. L never revealed himself in public or in private, but Misora had heard several horror stories about what had happened to detectives who had tried passing themselves off as L. It was safe to say that no one would dare use his name, even in jest.

So.

“Aw, dang,” she grumbled, and proceeded to take her shower, washing away the exhaustion of the night before. She dried her long black hair and drank a cup of hot coffee.

But she was only pretending to consider the matter—she did not really have a choice. No FBI agent, particularly a low-ranking one, could ever consider turning down a request from L. But at this time Misora did not have a particularly favorable opinion of the great detective L, so she had to pretend to hesitate, if only to make herself feel better. If you consider Misora’s personality, the reasons for this are clear. It seemed obvious that the reason her laptop had been turned on was that L had hacked it, and she was more than a little depressed that she would now have to randomly destroy the new computer she had just purchased a month before.

“I don’t mind… I mean, I do, but...” She didn’t have a choice.

At just past 8:50, Misora sat down in front of her laptop, which now had less than twenty three hours left to live, and began following L’s instructions. She was not an expert hacker, but she had been taught the basics as part of her FBI training.

Just as she successfully gained access to the server, her entire screen went white. Misora was momentarily alarmed, but then she noticed a giant calligraphic L floating in the center of the screen, and relaxed.

“Naomi Misora,” came a voice from the laptop speakers, after a brief pause. It was obviously a synthetic voice. But this was the voice recognized as L’s by every investigative department in the world. Misora had heard it several times before—but this was the first time it had ever addressed her directly It felt weird, like she was hearing her name on TV—not that she had ever had that experience, but this was what she imagined it would be like.

“This is L.”

“Hi,” Misora started to say, but then realized how pointless that was. Her laptop did not have a microphone installed, and there was no way for him to hear her.

Instead, she typed in, “This is Naomi Misora. It’s an honor to speak to you, L.” If her connection was sound, he should be able to receive this.

“Naomi Misora, are you familiar with the murder investigation going on in Los Angeles as we speak?” L got right down to business, without acknowledging her words at all. Presumably this was because he had to complete this communication by 9:05, but his manner and attitude rubbed Misora the wrong way Like it was a given that she would cooperate with him— which was true, but acting like it showed no respect for her pride. Misora allowed herself to bang on the keyboard rather loudly

“I am not so skilled that I can keep track of all the murder investigations happening in Los Angeles.” “Oh? I am.”

He’d returned her sarcasm with a boast.

L continued, “I’m referring to the serial killings—-the third victim was found yesterday. I believe there will be more victims to come. HNN news is calling it the Wara Ningyo Murders.”

“The Wara Ningyo Murders?”

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