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The murmuring of machinery is the only noise here.
The light from an open door is the only thing that illuminates this place.
The machines kept whirring, crushing everything that's been thrown in their reach. Kurai's figure partially blocks the light coming in. He won't leave yet. It's not like anyone will come down at this time. Kurai keeps his eyes trained on the human-sized bag on the conveyor belt. It gets flattened into a cube, then thrown into the incinerator.
His mouth forms something that can barely pass as a smile.
He shouldn't be smiling.
But even so, the 'he' who is relieved pulled the strings on his facial muscles to produce something almost resembling one. Almost.
It fades to his usual empty expression once more.
It was convenient for him that the trash machinery did not detect human remains—especially live human remains—else he would be in big trouble. Maybe the Kurono organization built them like this on purpose; of course, they do things far worse than he was doing.
Kurai unconsciously wipes his face with the back of his hand as if blood still stains it.
How?
How did he end up like this?
How come he's spiraling again?
"Ah, as if I care." He says as he turns to leave, but the voice sounds like a distant memory and doesn't register in his mind. 'There's no going back' he thinks, gripping the side of his jacket as if his combat knife is still there.