Who would have thought that Yuru was capable

Who would have thought that Yuru was capable of murder in cold blood! He looked away from the monitor, his eyes tired and sleepy after looking at a screen for 167 years.

Finally he had something to report to the overseers. Or should he report it? It was Yuru after all. He was shocked with himself. The directives! Yuru had murdered! But so had he.

He showed up at office 12A with Yuru's burnt dossier in his briefcase, rehearsing his own confession. But the overseers were blanks. They had never lost a child, whereas The One

with the uncommonly long beards had lost all his family to some road accident two years ago.

As an act of grief he had vowed never to cut any of his beards again, but to braid them together into a funeral wreath for his lost family. Every day he would wheel the beardwreath

into the living room where he kept a shrine of items that belonged to his family members. He would spend an inordinate time touching each item. The tears he shed would soak into

the needlepoint pillow his mother made & he allowed his fingers to trail across the keys of his father's piano...plink, plink, plink. He dropped his head in misery. "WHY GOD WHY?!"

It had been countless years of piano practice, all for nothing. The curse of his parents struck him hard, as the unrestful audience became angered, demanding their money back.

But what lay before them beyond the exits was even worse than they could have possibly ever imagined. It consumed them whole, then vanished without a trace.