Dark Thriller Manga

A teenage boy walking on a city street, car approaching fast, shocked expression, motion blur, dramatic manga style, black & white, high tension, cinematic angle” Teen floating in darkness surrounded by swirling light, ethereal energy around him, confused expression, thought bubble: ‘Where… am I?’ manga style, black & white, mystical aura” Baby boy reborn in luxurious noble family chamber, wrapped in blanket, soft expression, parents holding him proudly, elders watching in awe, manga style, black & white, light beams from ceiling” “Close-up of baby’s face, curious wide eyes, thought bubble: ‘I… I’m small? Where am I?’ manga style, black & white, cute mischievous expression” Golden aura shining around baby’s chest and forehead, light rays from above, soft glowing effect, elders and parents amazed, manga style, black & white, cinematic lighting, divine atmosphere” Mother smiles holding baby, father stands proudly, elders whispering in background, manga style, black & white, soft shading, dialogue bubble: ‘A rare child, blessed by heaven’” Close-up of baby’s tiny smirk, mischievous eyes, looking at parents and elders, manga style, black & white, subtle humorous expression, thought bubble: ‘Heh… I wonder what fun I can have here’” Wide shot of noble chamber, sunlight streaming through windows, baby in crib, parents and elders around, soft shadows, manga style, black & white, cinematic composition” Glowing small orb or artifact on shelf near baby, faint magical aura, baby reaching toward it curiously, manga style, black & white, dynamic angle” Close-up of elder faces, surprised and worried, manga style, black & white, subtle dramatic shading, thought bubble: ‘This child… is unusual’” Tiny Qi energy pulse radiates from baby as he touches artifact, floating papers and scrolls in room, manga style, black & white, expressive energy lines, dynamic panel Wide exterior shot of noble manor, morning sunlight, heavenly rays shining down on baby chamber, soft clouds, manga style, black & white, epic cinematic feel, caption: ‘Thus begins the Mischief Heir’s story’”
Keith slouched on his couch, the glow of his phone illuminating the dark corners of his apartment. The bottle on the table was almost empty, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop staring at the screen. Clair. She was kissing Jonny. His best friend. The same Jonny he had told just days ago that he was going to confess. I guess I was just the dancing monkey, he thought bitterly. Always there, always reliable, never the one chosen. A sharp knock at the door yanked him out of his spiral. Tipsy and unsteady, he stumbled to open it. She was standing there. Clair. At least, that’s what he told himself. She looked frantic, her hair slightly messy, her eyes wide. Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped inside. "Do you know where Clair left my files?" she asked, scanning the room with a sense of urgency. Keith blinked. Why is she talking in third person? he thought, but he didn’t dwell on it. He was too focused on the fact that it was her. "They should be somewhere around here," he said, rubbing his temple. She spotted a folder on the table and snatched it up. "Found them," she said, relief flashing across her face. She turned to leave, hand reaching for the door. Before she could, Keith’s hand was already on the door, stopping her. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the apartment fell into silence. Time seemed to stretch. He moved closer, heart hammering. He took her hand. She froze—then didn’t pull away. The folder slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Keith leaned in. He kissed her. For a moment, she hesitated. Then she kissed him back. The world narrowed down to that single, electrifying moment. Neon lights from the city outside spilled across their faces, painting the room in sharp colors. He barely noticed when they pulled apart, both breathless. Morning came far too quickly. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, burning his eyes. His head throbbed, a reminder of last night’s haze. He turned in the bed and felt warmth beside him. His stomach dropped. The hair spilling across the pillow wasn’t brown. It was jet black. Recognition hit like a punch to the gut. Olivier Clair. Clair’s older sister. His boss. Keith froze, unable to process what had happened, the memories of last night coming back in a flood of panic, confusion, and disbelief.
Bagas selalu pamit dengan cara yang rapi. Tidak pernah tergesa, tidak pernah dramatis. Seolah pamit adalah bagian dari etika kerja—bukan perasaan. “Duluan ya.” Kalimat itu keluar dari mulutnya hampir setiap hari, di jam yang hampir sama. Nada suaranya datar, senyumnya tipis, cukup untuk disebut sopan. Ia berdiri. Mengambil tas. Menunggu satu detik. Selalu satu detik. Tidak untuk apa-apa. Hanya jeda kecil yang tidak pernah ia sadari alasannya. “Ya,” jawab seseorang dari balik layar komputer. Ada yang mengangguk. Ada yang bahkan tidak menoleh. Bagas melangkah pergi. Lift turun perlahan. Pantulan wajahnya terlihat di dinding kaca—tenang, tidak terburu-buru, tidak meninggalkan apa pun di belakang. Ia menyukai rasa ini. Rasa pergi tanpa ditahan. Di meja kerjanya, semuanya tertata rapi. Tidak ada barang personal yang mencolok. Tidak ada foto. Tidak ada catatan yang tertinggal. Bagas percaya, barang yang mudah ditinggal tidak akan menyulitkan siapa pun. Termasuk dirinya.