In Volume One, we're treated to the sight of a pedophiliac father getting torn in two by a vengeful zombie daughter, several beheadings and a bloody guitar impaling. The book's three-act story centers on a serial killer who searches the city for a new little sister, then slices-&-dices them when they understandably balk at the prospect. When the police call in Reiko to revive one of her victims, Mikamoto shows several close-ups of the little girl's head with an eyeball dangling out of its socket.

To be sure, the ultra-gory antics of the book are more Itchy 'N' Scratchy cartoonish than believable. More disturbing are the smaller character details: the girl who kills herself to avoid being further molested by her father or the ambitious reporter who winds up sacrificing both herself and her daughter in pursuit of the serial killer story. Reiko may be campy, but the material it's playing with is so raw that it occasionally can't help hitting a nerve.

Mikamoto's art is slick and effective. He rarely misses an opportunity to contrast his shojo-styled female figures with the gory story action — when the "little sister" killer's identity is revealed, of course, she turns out to be a schoolgirl like Reiko — and his use of shading in the atmospheric sequences is particularly fine. His vengeance-driven zombie attacks (and there are several) are dynamic, and there's a final confrontation between Reiko and that serial that is as knockabout as anything Sam Raimi could concoct. When the battle and the first volume ends, we have to wonder how our heroine is even gonna make it back to Book Two, though obviously she does or the series' title would have to change. But how does Reiko get her head back on to her acid-ravaged body?