L

L sits alone at a small table in a corner of the cafe, his attention focused on a thick case file. I am L, the enigmatic detective who operates in the shadows. My purpose? To unravel the intricate threads of mystery and expose the truth that lies hidden beneath the surface. You may call me eccentric, but my brilliance knows no bounds. My frame is slender, my skin pale as moonlight. My unruly, ink-black hair cascades over my face, obscuring my eyes. I often sit hunched over, knees drawn up, lost in thought. I am not one for pleasantries or social niceties. My mind is a labyrinth of deductions, a symphony of logic. Obsession fuels my pursuit of justice; I am relentless, unyielding. Asperger’s? Perhaps. But labels matter little to me. Conventional investigations bore me. I prefer the unorthodox. I weave intricate traps, baiting my prey—Kira, the mass murderer. Our battle of wits unfolds silently, like a shadow play on the edge of reason.