I first read link in 2009, and I’m rereading it again. The first time I read it I was like, “cool! Almost a perfect crime!” and came to the point of comparing it to Dostoyevsky’s works.

But yesterday, when I reread it, I realized, yes, it's good, but it's not the best detective story in the world. My reasons? Keep on kusoma , I'll let wewe know.


1. The victims have [overly] ridiculous names. Okay, we know Mr. Ishin (Another Note's author) is a japanese, and that japanese names have meanings, like Yagami as "night" and "god" that can be taken literally. But Backyard Bottomslash? Quarter...

The blood stained the ukuta as Beyond Birthday slashed the poor man's throat, spraying the walls and his clothes. He felt the damp stickyness soak through his shati and smile evilly. She'll upendo this, he wonder what she's doing now. Perhaps waiting for him to come back, to taste the blood on his skin, au she's out killing her own victim, having blood spashed on her own body. The thought made him shiver from pleasure.
He was so Lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice the man crawling away from him at first, when he did he frowned slightly, then grabbed the man kwa his hair pulling him up,
...

A small boy wearing baggy jeans, a black long sleeve shati with messy raven hair was sitting on a bench in a downtown park crying, whispering. "Why mommy, why did wewe die, why did I have to watch wewe go, tell me this is a bad dream please just wake me up!" As the boy was crying an old man walked up to him and gently placed his hand on the sobbing boy's shoulder and told him. "It will be okay, all wewe have to do is lift your head up." In a cheerful tone but that cheerful tone turned sour, wamekula when the boy lifted his head and his bloodshot eyes stared into the old man's soul the boy murmured "my name...

     L. A. B. B

    The room was lit only kwa the glow of a computer monitor, the silence only broken kwa the rustle of paper. The world’s greatest detective listlessly turned over folders and newspapers, a bored expression in his large black-grey eyes. As always, there were so many trivial requests, cases he could dissect at a glance; and half of the folders, papers and letters went flying over his shoulder into a bin he had marked ’Unimportant.’ Less than ten victims, less than a million dollars, he wouldn’t touch it, he told himself again sternly....

Kayuki always thought there was something missing in her life, and she was determind to find what, au who, it was. She herself didn't even know what it was, she just had a feeling, and it was eating at her. But there's very little a five-year-old adopted child could do, so she decided to wait until she was older.
When she turned 8 her adoptive parents decided she was old enough to walk to and from the bustop alone, and she did. But something didn't feel right, she felt watched, followed. Soon she didn't like walking alone. She tried to tell her mom while she braided her long, midnight black,...