He wasn’t a doctor anymore. His hands, once capable of the most delicate neurosurgery, were now calloused from the grip of a rifle. He looked at his fingers, tracing the faint tremors he could never quite suppress. He had saved a monster, and the weight of that "mercy" had bent his soul until it snapped.
A soft knock at the door made him reach for the handgun hidden beneath a pile of medical journals. "It’s me," a voice whispered. Dieter. Monster Episode 37
Tenma walked to the window, staring out at the grey city. Somewhere in the labyrinth of Europe, Johan was smiling. He was moving pieces on a board Tenma couldn't even see yet. Every time Tenma felt he was closing in, he realized he was merely being led—an unwanted disciple following a dark messiah toward an inevitable end. "Tomorrow, we move south," Tenma said, his voice flat. "Will we find him there?" He wasn’t a doctor anymore
Should we continue this journey toward or focus on a flashback to Tenma's days at the hospital? He had saved a monster, and the weight
Tenma looked at the surgical kit sitting next to his ammunition. He thought of the boy with the bullet wound in his head all those years ago. He thought of the monster he had brought back to life.
He sat in a cramped, dimly lit apartment, the smell of antiseptic and stale coffee clinging to the peeling wallpaper. Spread across the scarred wooden table were the fragments of a ghost: blurry photographs of a blonde woman, police reports from 1986, and a hand-drawn map of the Czech border.
"You were staring at the picture again," Dieter said, nodding toward the table.