"We have the left arm," Takahiro whispered, his hands trembling as he gripped a blood-stained bundle. "That’s four pieces. We still need the torso and the head."

Asuka tripped, sliding across the floor. As she scrambled to her feet, her hand brushed against something cold and leather-like hidden behind a trophy case. She pulled it back. It was a torso, stitched with jagged black thread. "I found it!" she screamed.

Asuka bolted upright in her bed, gasping for air. Her sheets were soaked with sweat. She checked her phone: