It has been raining since dawn.
It's not heavy rain.
Only the drizzle never stopped.
The city sky was covered with gray clouds.
It was as if the sun itself refused to appear that day.
In front of the nearly empty law firm building, several journalists were still standing guard.
They are waiting.
Looking for new news.
Looking for a new scandal.
Looking for the next destruction.
No one realized that that morning would be the turning point for the entire case.
Raka stood alone in his study.
The room that used to be always crowded now feels strange.
Some tables are already empty.
Many documents have been transferred.
The award photos still hang on the walls.
But all of that felt meaningless anymore.
On the table was a black suitcase.
Old.
Heavy.
And full of secrets.
Raka stared at the suitcase for a long time.
Then slowly open the lock.
Click.
Click.
The suitcase lid is lifted.
There are dozens of maps inside.
Cassette tape.
Old photos.
Transaction documents.
List of names.
Operation notes.
As well as evidence of crimes that have been hidden from the world for years.
Vulture's Secret.
Her secret.
Samuel who was standing near the door froze.
"Is that all?"
Samuel asked slowly.
Raka nodded.
"Most of the."
Samuel looked at the contents of the suitcase.
Her face slowly changed.
Because for the first time...
He really saw his friend's past.
And the amount of sin stored in that suitcase was far greater than he had ever imagined.
"There's no need to do this."
said Samuel.
"You can just hand over some of it."
Raka smiled faintly.
A smile that looks tired.
"Sena was right about one thing."
Samuel immediately looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
Raka closed the suitcase slowly.
"Adrian is someone who tries to run."
The room became silent.
"For years I thought I could leave it all behind."
He sighed.
"Change name."
"Building a new life."
"Becoming a new person."
Samuel didn't say anything.
Because he knew where the conversation was going.
"But the truth is..."
Raka stared at the window filled with raindrops.
"I'm still the same person."
For the first time since regaining his memories...
He said it out loud.
Without a doubt.
Without rejection.
No reason.
"I'm Raka."
The sentence sounds simple.
But for Samuel...
It felt like the end of a long lie.
Not a lie to others.
Except to yourself.
Two hours later.
A black car stopped in front of the police headquarters.
It was still raining when Raka came down carrying the suitcase.
Several journalists who saw it immediately ran over.
The camera starts to turn on.
The microphone was pointed at him.
"Mr. Adrian!"
"Is it true that you are a member of the Vulture?"
"Would you like to make a statement?"
"Are you guilty?"
Questions came in droves.
But Raka didn't answer any of them.
It keeps going.
Step by step.
Heading to the main door of the police station.
Like someone who is heading to the courtroom of his own life.
Inside the building.
Evan had just finished a meeting when an officer approached him.
"Detective."
"There's someone who wants to meet you."
Evan raised his head.
"Who?"
The officer looked doubtful.
Then answered,
"Cancer."
Evan froze.
Five minutes later.
The interrogation room usually used for suspects now feels different.
On one side of the table sat Evan and Rio.
On the other side sat Raka.
No handcuffs.
There is no guard.
But the atmosphere was much heavier than a normal interrogation.
Because everyone in the room knows...
This moment will change many things.
Raka pushed the suitcase to the middle of the table.
Rio frowned.
"What's that?"
"Proof."
Raka answered.
"What proof?"
Raka looked at them.
Long.
Then said,
"Proof of my crime."
The room immediately fell silent.
Evan opened the suitcase.
And the more documents he sees...
It was getting harder for him to hide his surprise.
List of victims.
Operation location.
Secret account.
Member's name.
Murder note.
Even some cases that for years the police have never been able to solve.
It's all there.
Everything.
Rio slowly sat back down.
Her face was pale.
"Oh my God..."
he muttered.
Evan didn't answer.
Because he was reading something far more terrifying.
A list.
List of victims.
And next to each name there is a note.
Date.
Location.
Method.
Perpetrator.
Everything is written in great detail.
It's as if someone is making a company report.
Not a murder record.
"Why?"
Evan asked finally.
Raka looked at the table.
A few seconds passed.
Then he answered,
"Because I'm tired."
"No."
Evan shook his head.
"I didn't ask why you handed this over."
He leaned forward.
"I asked why you kept it."
The question made the room fall silent again.
Raka didn't answer immediately.
Because actually...
He himself doesn't know.
Maybe because of guilt.
Maybe because of fear.
Maybe because a small part of him always knew that one day he would have to face all of this.
Finally he said,
"Maybe because I knew this day would come."
Afternoon.
News of Raka's arrival at the police station leaked to the media.
And like a fire doused in gasoline...
The world exploded again.
But this time it's different.
Because it's not a rumor.
Not speculation.
Not a conspiracy theory.
But the facts.
Raka voluntarily surrenders evidence of his past crimes.
In his apartment.
Sena is watching the news broadcast.
At first he seemed calm.
But the longer it goes on...
Her expression began to change.
The news anchor explains the submission of documents.
Explaining the confession.
Explaining cooperation with the police.
And for the first time since this game began...
Sena looks angry.
Absolutely furious.
His hands clenched into fists.
His jaw clenched.
His eyes were filled with anger.
Because this is not what he wanted.
Not at all.
"Why...?"
he whispered.
The voice sounded almost like a complaint.
Because in his mind...
Raka should have fought back.
Reject.
Escape.
Proving that the monster is still alive.
But what happened was the opposite.
Raka chose to take responsibility.
Raka chose to confess.
Raka chooses to face his past.
And for Sena...
It felt like a betrayal.
Meanwhile.
At the police station.
Night began to fall.
The room lights came on one by one.
But Raka was still sitting in the same place.
Still providing information.
Still answering questions.
Still opening up old wounds that he had tried to bury for years.
"There's something I want to ask."
said Rio.
Raka raised his head.
Rio looked at him seriously.
"Do you regret it?"
Simple question.
But the answer is not simple.
Raka was silent for quite a long time.
Very long.
Until Evan started to think he wouldn't answer.
But in the end...
Raka opened his voice.
"I regret it every day."
Rio didn't blink.
Raka continued.
"The problem is..."
He stared at the list of victims spread out on the table.
"Regret doesn't bring anyone back to life."
The sentence hung in the air.
Heavy.
Bitter.
And be honest.
Because that's the reality.
No amount of regret is enough to erase blood.
No confession can bring back the victim.
No punishment can change the past.
The night was getting late.
The rain finally stopped.
But the city still feels cold.
Outside the police building, reporters continued to wait.
Inside the building, investigators begin to uncover Vulture's secrets one by one.
And far away elsewhere...
Sena stood in front of her apartment window.
Staring at the city lights.
With increasing anger.
Because the plan started to move in an undesirable direction.
Meanwhile Raka was standing in the corridor of the police station.
Alone.
For the first time in years.
He felt like he wasn't running.
Not hiding.
Not pretending to be someone else.
The burden is still there.
The sin is still there.
The guilt is still there.
But at least now he stopped denying it.
He stared at the night sky outside the window.
Dark.
Empty.
And cold.
Then slowly close your eyes.
Because finally he understood something.
There are stains that cannot be washed.
There are wounds that cannot heal.
There are sins that cannot be erased.
All one can do is admit it.
And live with the consequences.
Without running away again.
Without hiding anymore.
Without Adrian's mask.
Because starting that night...
Raka decides to face his entire past.
Even though he knew the price he had to pay would probably ruin the rest of his life.