"P-please don 't kill me!" Sayu cried as she was shoved into a see-through exchange push-panel. "Wh-where 's my dad? Mom! "
A low-rank mafia grunt laughed maniacally as he stalked away from the girl, fulfilling his job of containing the hostage in the trading center. I watched from around a dark corner as the girl beat on the bullet-proof glass, trying her hardest to escape her temporary prison. I bit my tongue to prevent myself from saying or doing anything unnecessary, the sight of the girl killing me little by little the longer I watched her.
Today was the day we were going to trade Sayu Yagami for the Death Note, and everything seemed to be going according to plan. Soichiro Yagami boarded flight SE333 under the command
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"Do you want to see your daughter die?"
Soichiro didn 't say a word after that as the mafioso wrote a name in the notebook. I was unable to see whose name it was, but my question of who would die was answered rather quickly as a mafioso in the room collapsed moments later. I looked over my shoulder with wide eyes to see a tanned, bald mafioso had just died of a heart attack-proof that the notebook was real. But why him?
"What 's wrong?" A man asked as he shuffled towards the collapsed man.
"You okay, Miller?" Another man asked, running over to who I now knew as Miller.
"Look," The mafia boss 's deep voice reverberated. "That 's what you get when you steal from me and sell goods behind my back. He was a worthless idiot. This is the first time he 's been useful..."
Mello nudged me with his elbow as I stared at the fallen mafioso, dumbstruck over the fact that such a thing as a Death Note actually existed. When I turned to him questionably, he simply pointed to my
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"Y-462, the target is dead," I spoke as firmly as I could, shocked over the existence of the killer notebook. I had been told about it, but seeing the proof with my own eyes...it was unbelievable.
The rest of the plan rolled smoothly, our goal of obtaining one of the two existing notebooks completed. I couldn 't bring myself to focus as I stared at a patch of carpet on the floor, thinking about the notebook. If it gets into the wrong hands, the world is done for.
But