"Eli Grissom, eh... To put it simply, he was a disorganised thrill killer. Adult women wouldn't give him the time of day, he didn't have the money for prostitutes, so he took out his pent-up sexual frustration on weaker children. A substitute paedophile. In other words, a rotten piece of filth who bullied the weak. Unlike organised killers, he had low intelligence, an IQ of seventy, if that."
"In a way, that case was thrown into chaos because of the killer's low intelligence. There was a clear pattern to the crimes, so Helen Gardner assumed he was organised and had a high IQ, but it was the exact opposite. The pattern existed because the killer was intellectually disabled with a low IQ... Intellectually disabled people prefer patterns, and when those patterns are disrupted, they become confused and act out in unpredictable ways. And it was our investigation team that disrupted his pattern and induced confusion. The confused killer lost his previous pattern, making it temporarily impossible to predict his actions. When a crime occurred in a completely unexpected location, even I was thrown for a loop."
"At the time, Helen Gardner said that the reason she couldn't predict the killer was because he was smart. She was convinced he was doing it deliberately to disrupt the investigation. But Carlo said the exact opposite. Just like he explained a moment ago."
"That's right. Of course, Helen Gardner gave me a right telling-off for it. But in the end, I was correct."
"Carlo was the sharp one back then."
"After that, based on the data we had, I predicted the pattern the killer would create next. Together with a brilliant young mathematician who was also on the investigation. The mathematician and I narrowed down the location of the next crime. But Patrick, who had snooped on our findings, acted on his own. This idiot went off on his own, acting recklessly."
"And that's how I arrested Eli Grissom."
Patrick Lerner said with a proud look. But beside him, Dr Carlo Santos, sipping a fine blend of coffee, shot him a look that said he had something more to add. Dr Carlo Santos then placed his coffee cup on the table and looked at Patrick Lerner. Then he said something to tease him.
"To be precise, it was Nohemi Zedillo who made the arrest. She's the true hero who deserves all the praise for cleaning up your mess."
"Noemi? You're kidding me."
"Don't let her hear you say that. You have no idea how much she stressed out for you back then..."
Whilst the two old blokes were enjoying their trip down memory lane, Alexander, sitting next to Dr Carlo Santos, was silently listening to their stories and reading a thick book.
"By the way, Patrick. Weren't you attacked by Eli Grissom back then?"
"As if. What are you on about all of a sudden..."
Truth and Method by Hans-Georg Gadamer. Staring at the spine of the book with a bewildered expression was Neil Archer. Sitting next to Patrick Lerner, he was trying his best to tune out the intense conversation of the two forty-something men, making himself as small as possible and trying to disappear.
"I was under the impression that you suffered an unbearable humiliation back then, and you were keeping quiet because you didn't want anyone to know... so nothing like that happened, then? How boring."
"Boring?! How can you talk about someone's crisis like that—"
"A man's crisis is an entertaining show. The more tragic, the more interesting. Stories of women being oppressed by men are usually just sickening, but when a man is put through the wringer by another man, it can have some unexpected endings. The novel 'Water Under the Bridge' by Kurezuki Yayoi was a truly interesting story."
As the mysteriously grinning Dr Carlo Santos mentioned the name of a certain novel, Alexander, who had been staring at the book in her hands, looked up. She then interjected into the two men's conversation, saying, "Ah, 'Water Under the Bridge'. Yeah, that was an interesting story, for sure."
"No way, Alex. I know that novel too. But I thought it was mental."
Neil Archer's voice was tense and high-pitched, perhaps due to his discomfort. Alexander chuckled at his strangely high voice and reddening face. Then she closed the book she was reading with a snap.
The blushing Neil spoke awkwardly. "But that story's about a bloke who ends up crashing at a gay guy's place and gets put through the wringer, right?"
"Nah, not really. The main character himself doesn't think he was put through the wringer. And you're probably talking about Raymond Barclay when you say 'gay guy,' but Raymond's not gay, he's bi."
"...I gave up after the first few dozen pages, so I wouldn't know that."
"Well then, you can't possibly understand what's so good about that novel. After the awful thing that happened on the first day they moved in together, the main character slowly starts falling for Raymond. Even though he had a fiancée, Catherine Brunswick, whom he was supposed to marry, his eyes wandered to his male roommate, even if it was just for a moment. The main character is a real piece of work."
As Alexander spoke with a laugh, the look on Neil's face was a mixture of disgust and fear.
But then, a monster even greater than Alexander chimed in. Dr Carlo Santos stared at Patrick Lerner sitting opposite him and said with a wide smile:
"In the case of that novel, the fact that the man, Raymond Barclay, had more than a few borderline personality traits was a major factor... but I've seen similar cases in real life. A man came to me for PTSD treatment, saying he'd been assaulted by a male acquaintance, but he stopped treatment without notice after about two weeks. When he came back two months later, he told me with a smile that he wanted to end his treatment because he'd started living with the guy and they were now dating. I've been a psychiatrist for about fifteen years, but I've yet to experience a shock greater than that."
"Please stop, Carlo. I don't want to hear it."
Patrick Lerner muttered in a sharp tone, glaring at Dr Carlo Santos. Beside him, Neil was fidgeting nervously and silently sipping his milkshake.
Alexander, seeing Neil, called out to him. "What's up, Neil?"
"...N-nothing. It's nothing."
Neil Archer replied curtly. But he was confused. Because this morning, he had not expected to be in this situation.
Last week, Neil had asked Alexander out on a date. Let's go get some tiramisu together, he had said. He did not know how she had taken it, but in any case, she had turned him down. Or so he thought.
But that situation had changed. Yesterday, Alexander had suddenly asked, "Is that invitation from the other day still valid?" Of course, Neil had replied, Too right it is.
Neil had been looking forward to it. To going out with Alexander, just the two of them, for the first time in a while. He had caused her trouble, there had been some drama, and so he had thought maybe they could put it all behind them, maybe they could go back to being able to talk openly with each other like before, or maybe even take things further. That is what he had been thinking, until he left home this morning.
But look at this! When Neil entered the cafe Alexander had specified, two old blokes were waiting there! And one of them was that Patrick Lerner!! What's more, Alexander was talking to Patrick Lerner as if they were old mates! And he had no idea who this Carlo Santos doctor was either! What the hell was going on?! Alex, what's your relationship with these old geezers!?
"..."
And the stories these geezers had been telling were all things he would rather not hear. The story of Dmitry Krestyaninov, the cannibal known as the man-eater; the story of the crazy woman named Sigrid Colwitz, who kidnapped young boys; the story of Eli Grissom... And to make matters worse, Alexander was the one asking them all these questions.
What's wrong, Alex? Where'd the girl I know go?!
And so, Neil Archer was confused. But the two old men did not seem to notice the bewildered young man.
"Speaking of which, Patrick. What's the go with you and Noemi?"
"...Carlo Santos. That's none of your business."
Of all places, this was an old-fashioned, classic cafe. There were no other customers, and certainly no trendy tiramisu. All they had was the owner's painstakingly crafted, delicious coffee, and some dry, mediocre muffins that were clearly not made with the same care.
Neil was confused and disappointed by this situation. Why was he here? He no longer knew.
He was supposed to have had a lot to talk about with Alexander, just the two of them. But she was just laughing happily while listening to the old blokes' stories and reading some thick, incomprehensible book. It was as if Neil was not even there.
With nothing to do, Neil just sat there feeling awkward. Then, Patrick Lerner patted his shoulder. I'm truly sorry for dragging you into this. Patrick Lerner said, then took a notebook from inside his jacket. He handed the notebook to Dr Carlo Santos, then turned to Neil. Then Patrick Lerner gave an unnaturally cheerful smile and said, "Neil Archer. Actually, I have a favour to ask of you."
"...And what would that be?"
"Nothing difficult. I just need you to keep her, Alexander, tied down here until I'm finished with my work. And I've also asked you to look after Carlo Santos."
"Eh?"
Neil Archer was even more confused. And Alexander, too, looked surprised, staring at Patrick Lerner.
"Eh? Wait, tie me down here? What do you mean, Mr Lerner?"
"I just mean I want you to stay in this shop until my work is done. Archer will keep an eye on you. And Carlo is like a talisman to ward off evil, I suppose."
"You think I'm a talisman?"
Dr Carlo Santos, too, looked at Patrick Lerner with suspicion. Patrick Lerner then pointed to the notebook he had just handed him and said:
"That's Bridget Elora's journal. The third volume. You can read it as you please, as long as you return it to me later."
"No, I've already read all of her journals. Being handed a third volume now doesn't really..."
Dr Carlo Santos tilted his head. Neil Archer tilted his head too. But Alexander alone exclaimed, "Ah!" She was the only one who understood the meaning of 'talisman'. And she also guessed the reason why she was not allowed to leave the shop.
Patrick Lerner then lost patience with Dr Carlo Santos's unsatisfactory response. He leaned in and secretly told Dr Carlo Santos the real reason.
"...To tell you the truth, it seems that man is lurking nearby."
"That man, you mean Pellmo—!"
Just as Alexander, who had overheard, was about to say something unnecessary, Patrick Lerner covered her mouth. Then he said to calm her down:
"Yes, that's right. It's him. And that man hates psychiatrists with a passion. If it's a psychiatrist who also has an abnormal interest in him, he'll avoid contact at all costs. In other words, Carlo, that man will absolutely not come near you."
"What!? But I would very much like to meet him—"
"I can say with absolute certainty that that will never happen. So, if you stay by Carlo's side, your safety can be guaranteed. That man won't harm you. That's why I called you here today."
In short, Dr Carlo Santos was a powerful repellent. As long as they were near him, the demon who hated him—that is, Pellmond Varlozzi—would not approach. So, do not leave Dr Carlo Santos's side for now. That is what Patrick Lerner was trying to say.
"My colleagues are also on standby nearby, so it should be safe here. So, until I get back, do not, under any circumstances, leave this shop. Do you understand, especially you, Alexander?"
Patrick Lerner stared at Alexander with his large, round eyes, as if to emphasize his point. Alexander gave a silent nod in response, and he left the shop.
...And so, about an hour passed.
"Hey, Alex."
"What?"
"Is this old bloke alright?"
"If you're talkin' about the Doctor, he's just his usual self."
"Ah, right. Okay..."
Having finished her book and with nothing left to do, Alexander stared at the ceiling, bored, and pricked up her ears. Neil, too, was slouched back, looking up at the ceiling, trying to tune out the endless muttering of Dr Carlo Santos's monologue. But he could not help but be concerned about him. So Neil said:
"Seriously, is he alright?"
"I said don't worry about it."
"Easier said than done. I can't help it."
Dr Carlo Santos stared intently at the old notebook, muttering to himself as he turned the pages. He was reading at a furious pace, finishing a two-page spread of the playing-card-sized notebook in about a minute.
Neil watched him with a "Wow..." expression, as if he were observing a giant insect.
In stark contrast to Neil, Alexander was listening carefully to Dr Carlo Santos's monologue. She was concentrating, trying not to miss a single word whispered in his small, unclear voice.
"...Was her judgement flawed, or was my master's reasoning incorrect? It's the same patient, yet their accounts differ so much. Reading it again, it feels all wrong. Could it be that this journal isn't a record of real experiences or a diary, but a work of fiction, a product of her own delusions? If I assume that, it makes sense. But if that's the case, why would such an incident occur for something like this...?"
As Dr Carlo Santos muttered this, his expression grew stern. Seeing this, Neil shivered with an unknown fear. But Alexander's brow furrowed in sync with Dr Carlo Santos.
It was at that moment that Alexander's heightened sense of hearing caught an unexpected voice.
—No! You're scary! Don't come any closer!!
The voice of a girl crying for help. The moment she heard it, Alexander jumped to her feet and, without thinking, impulsively ran outside. Because she felt like she had heard that voice before.
—That scream, it sounds just like Yun.
"Wait, Alex! Hold on, where do you think you're goin'!?"
"I heard Yun scream, I can't just leave her, can I?"
Alexander cut off Neil's attempt to hold her back and rushed out of the shop. She scanned the main street spreading out before her. She carefully observed the crowd and found a girl who seemed to be the source of the voice.
A white-haired girl disappearing into an alleyway, as if fleeing. She was about the same height as the twins Yun and Yuni, and her profile, seen from a distance, looked just like them, especially Yun. But Neil, who had not seen the white-haired girl, denied Alexander's words. "What are you on about, you idiot? She's in a hospital bed, there's no way she'd be here, right? You're not hearing things, are you?"
"Even if I told you I just saw her back?"
"Who's gonna believe someone who just collapsed at school the other day? Alex, you're tired. That's why you heard things and saw things that weren't there, right?"
Neil said this, but Alexander had seen it. She had seen the back of the man who had chased the white-haired girl and disappeared down the same path. The man in the black hat, black coat, black-rimmed glasses, stubble, aquiline nose, and pale eyes.
"...This is getting us nowhere."
Alexander forcefully shook off Neil's hand, which had grabbed her wrist to stop her. She turned her back on him, crossed the main street, and ran into the alleyway where the girl and the man had disappeared.
"Alex, don't go!! Wait, oi!! ...Shit. What's that idiot thinking!?"
Neil clenched his right fist tightly and glared in the direction Alexander had gone. He glanced back once, confirmed that Dr Carlo Santos was engrossed in his notebook, and was about to chase after her himself.
But an obstacle appeared before him. When Neil looked back in Alexander's direction, a person was standing in front of him where there had been no one just moments before. A man with straw-coloured hair, dressed in a black suit and hiding his eyes behind black sunglasses, was blocking his path.
Neil was overwhelmed and held his breath at the man's presence—tall and slender, radiating an aura like a sharply honed longsword. The man standing before him said:
"Refrain from causing us any trouble."
The man, who was somewhat taller than Neil, looked down at him. The sunglasses made it impossible to see his eyes, but Neil felt a sense of unease from his gaze.
The person standing before him now was like... what? Neil felt something akin to awe, as if he were facing something not human. The man blocking his path spoke to him again.
"You will return to where you were immediately. Alexander, it is too late for her."
"Too late? It's almost like you're sayin' she's—"
The words of the unknown man in front of him instantly ignited Neil's anger. He lunged at him, but it did not last long. The next moment, what Neil remembered was not anger, but fear.
The man had taken off his sunglasses in front of Neil, opened his revealed eyes for a moment, and then closed them.
Neil recognised the man's face. And the moment he realised the man's eyes were not human, his legs began to tremble. Then the man said:
"...You don't want any more of this, do you? Then back away, now."
The man's pale, bluish eyes had no pupils. In fact, it was doubtful if they were even eyes at all. The pale bluish parts that looked like eyes might have actually been his pupils, and the pale bluish light that swirled within his eyeballs might have been the phosphorescence of Abaddoselenium dissolved in his blood.
And the man's face closely resembled a dead person he had seen in a textbook. The great sinner in the textbook, the man who was said to have caused an Abaddoselenium power plant to go haywire and blow up a city.
And when the man opened his eyes and looked at Neil with his inhuman gaze, for that brief moment, Neil heard a voice. It was a chorus of horrifying voices. A curse-like echo of resentment and hatred towards all living things. Just hearing it for a moment made his stomach turn to ice. Neil's fighting spirit was completely crushed.
And to the stunned Neil, the man said:
"Alexander Colt. Forget about her. You must not pursue this matter, no matter what."
With those final words, the man placed a hand on Neil's shoulder. The hand, wearing a white cotton glove, was bone-chillingly cold, as if it belonged to a dead person with no blood flowing through it. He quickly removed his hand, put his sunglasses back on, and hid his eyes.
Just then, a frantic-looking Patrick Lerner arrived. Seeing the man with the straw-coloured hair, Patrick Lerner tensed up and drew back his chin. Then he reported to the man with the sunglasses:
"K was hit in a surprise attack and is down. It seems that man also got away with the package. And Lucan is being jammed. The beacon attached to the package is silent. Tracking is impossible. Also, the target is extremely agitated right now. It would be dangerous to approach him carelessly. He's in that other personality..."
"Lerner, did you confirm his equipment?" the man with the sunglasses asked Patrick Lerner. Patrick Lerner nodded and replied, "As far as I could see, just one handgun. Nothing like a bulletproof vest."
"I'll hold him off. You retrieve her in the meantime."
"But, that man is—"
Patrick Lerner started to say something, but stopped mid-sentence. He had noticed Neil's presence, but more importantly, he had sensed the extraordinary killing intent emanating from the man with the sunglasses. He swallowed his unnecessary words to avoid becoming the target of that killing intent.
And the man with the sunglasses gave Patrick Lerner an order in a voice filled with murderous intent. "Lerner, tell Eileen to bring the car around to the end of the backstreet."
"...Yes, Sir."
Patrick Lerner replied with a disgruntled look on his face, then crossed the main street and disappeared into the shadow of a building. And just as the frozen-from-tension Neil finally managed to blink...
When Neil closed and reopened his eyes, the man with the sunglasses was gone. He had vanished as if he had been a ghost.
Whilst Neil was being stared down by the man in sunglasses, Alexander, who had stuck her neck into a troublesome situation and entered a deserted back alley, was having a gun pointed at her for the first time in her life.
Standing before her, pointing a gun at her, was the man who had saved Neil just the other day. Pellmond Varlozzi, dressed in a black fedora and a black trench coat, his entire body clad in black.
"...Senior Technocrat Varlozzi."
A gun filled with malicious intent was pointed at her. The tension made Alexander's voice tremble. The man pointing the gun at her, on the other hand, wore a superficial, thin smile. And he said to Alexander:
"Sorry, girl. Too bad for you, but right now I'm not the gutless senior technocrat. I won't show any mercy, not even to a kid. This time, I'm gonna finish you."
As he spoke, the man attached a silencer to his pistol to muffle the gunshot. Then he released the safety and the cold smile vanished from his face.
Beneath his fedora, his eyes, peeking out from behind his glasses, were vacant and lifeless, and his expression lacked any spirit. Seeing this, Alexander remembered Patrick Lerner's words: a soldier playing the part of a senior technocrat.
"..."
This was the result of ignoring all the warnings. She might finally be killed. Alexander braced herself for that and held her breath. Then she looked at the white-haired girl sitting behind the man.
The white-haired girl had a combat knife stuck in her right thigh, near the artery. She was sitting, cradling her right leg, and whimpering "it hurts, it hurts" in a small voice.
The girl's features closely resembled the twins, Yun and Yuni. In fact, she looked just like them. But the girl was neither of the twins. Her face and body were exactly the same as the twins, but her insides were different. That was the feeling she got.
Whilst the twins had behaved in an age-appropriate manner, the girl now sitting there was behaving like a four-year-old. She looked like a teenage girl, but her words and actions did not match her appearance.
"Hey, you. What are you staring at?"
The man pointing the gun at Alexander questioned her, as she was staring at the girl behind him despite having a gun pointed at her. Alexander honestly voiced her question. "Who is that girl? She looks just like those twins."
"You mean you jumped in without knowing anything? Ha, I've been made a fool of..."
The man said this, then lowered his vacant eyes and sighed. The next moment, the girl sitting behind the man screamed, and at the same time, Alexander hit the ground.
It all happened in an instant. The white-haired girl was shot silently in the right shoulder, and immediately after, Alexander was shot in the lower abdomen. The quick-draw, fired at a speed that an ordinary person could not follow, surprised Alexander more than it hurt her. The same skill that had protected Neil before was now being used to harm her.
Still, Alexander forced herself to her feet, staggering, and pressed her right hand to her wounded side. The bullet had missed her major arteries, so it was not a fatal wound, but that did not mean it did not hurt. But she endured the pain.
The man, seeing this, laughed mockingly. Then he said in a flat, indifferent voice:
"To stand up even after being shot, you've got some nerve, girl. Most people either piss themselves shaking or beg for mercy while crying their eyes out."
"I'm honoured by your praise...!"
The warm blood gushing from the wound quickly stained Alexander's hand red and warmed it until it was almost hot. With every slight movement, the bullet lodged inside her tore at the surrounding muscle tissue, increasing the pain.
Alexander wanted to beg for mercy, to cry out in pain, and she was desperately trying to hold back from wetting herself right now.
But if she did any of those things, it would mean admitting defeat to this man. And he did not seem like the type to be moved by pleas for mercy, and she had a feeling that if she cried and screamed here, he would just enjoy it and hurt her even more.
The man then grinned. He roughly grabbed the hair of the crying girl behind him and pulled her to her feet, then said to Alexander:
"As a special treat for the clueless but talented student, I'll tell you what this is. This is an artificial life form created through alchemy using Abaddoselenium. A so-called homunculus."
"...Homunculus?"
"A researcher named Theresa Ertl accidentally created it. You should be well acquainted with the first and second ones, shouldn't you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about...!"
"Artificial life form. U-series, numbers one and two."
It hurts, no, stop, let go. The white-haired girl's shrill cries suddenly stopped with the man's words. As he spoke his next words, he snapped the girl's neck.
"Also known as Yun and Yuni. Those twins aren't human. Their creator, Theresa, knew that. But her brother and his wife, who took them in after Theresa's assassination, know nothing. Neither Lenny Ertl nor Elaine Varlozzi would ever dream that the twins they adopted are inhuman monsters."
The girl's corpse, her neck bent at an impossible angle, fell limply to the ground. Then the corpse emitted a faint light and, in an instant, dissipated into particles of pale, bluish phosphorescence. After watching this, the man said:
"Just as humans come from dust and return to dust, these human-like things return to Abaddoselenium when they reach their operational limit. The failures vaporise instantly upon contact with oxygen, and unstable individuals like the one just now reach their limit in about a week. Those twins, their mechanism is the same as this imitation. But those two are special."
"..."
"If the other imitations are just lab mice, then those twins are knockout mice that have been genetically modified. A perfect life form created by removing unnecessary elements from the imitation's genome and adding superior genes. A perfect imitation, almost indistinguishable from the original human. Well, one of them was an accidental failure, though."
The colour drained from Alexander's face. Blood loss from the gunshot wound was one reason, but hatred was a stronger one.
This was a complete disregard for life. The behaviour of the man speaking before her, the existence of the homunculus, and those involved with it. It was impossible not to feel anger.
As Alexander, trembling with rage, her expression hardening, the man looked at her with pity. Then he said to her:
"But the homunculus is a forbidden existence. Like human clones, they are not supposed to exist. It seems The Senate is also at a loss as to how to deal with them."
"...So you're going to kill them? Both Yun and Yuni?"
"The order is not to touch those two. But I've been ordered to dispose of the rest of the trash. And to eliminate anyone who knows the truth, without exception."
"Senior Technocrat, what in the world are you—"
"I'm simply fulfilling the purpose of equipment."
The gun was pointed at Alexander again, aimed at her left breast.
"Until the mission is complete, I will simply play the part I was given."
The man said this in a voice devoid of emotion. At that moment, his eyes glowed green. His vacant, pale eyes had been replaced by gleaming green ones.
The man with the green eyes. There was no trace of "Pellmond Varlozzi" in his appearance. Despite having the same face and body, he was like a completely different person.
"That's just... empty. You're like an empty shell, and..."
Alexander muttered in a trembling voice. The man scoffed at her words.
"Like I said. I'm just fulfilling the purpose of equipment. Equipment can only be equipment by eliminating its ego to the absolute limit."
The man's finger on the trigger moved. Alexander quietly closed her eyes, prepared for death. It was at that moment.
"Equipment' own theory? It seems you have enough of an ego to have a theory."
A man's voice, which sounded vaguely familiar, came from behind Alexander. Surprised, she snapped her eyes open. At the same time, a voice and a gust of wind blew past her.
"Then I'll crush that ego of yours. Then you'll be a perfect equipment."
No. It was not wind that had passed by her. A single iron pipe, thrown like a javelin, had flown past.
The thrown iron pipe hit the pistol that was aimed at Alexander, embedding itself in the grip. The pipe and the pistol fell to the ground together.
Then, more iron pipes flew out from behind Alexander. This time, five were thrown simultaneously, and they all pierced the body of the man who called himself "equipment ". They pierced his arms, his legs, his right breast. And without a moment's pause, another iron pipe flew. It tore a hole in the man's abdomen and passed straight through his body.
The man, attacked by the iron pipes, fell to his knees and lowered his face, then vomited up a dark red stream of blood as if he could no longer hold it back. The man on the ground raised only his eyes and glared at the person standing behind Alexander with bloodshot eyes. "...You...!"
"Been a while, Pellmond. Or should I call you the 'Hound Alphard' right now?"
The owner of the voice stepped in front of Alexander. It was the man with the straw-coloured hair, dressed in a black suit and hiding his eyes behind black sunglasses.
The man with the straw-coloured hair stopped in front of the man on the ground and stomped on his head. Pressing his face into the ground, the man with the straw-coloured hair said, "Bring out 'Pellmond' now. I have something to talk to him about."
"I haven't seen the light of day in a long time. You think I'll go back so easily?"
"I don't give a damn about your convenience. Hand over your body to Pellmond right now. Or would it be faster if I called the Black Wolf here? I'll blow the dog whistle right now if I have to."
As he said this, the man with the straw-coloured hair produced a sword from somewhere. A crude sword appeared as if it had grown out of thin air, but it did not rest in the man's hand; it floated in the air. As if held by a magnetic force, the sword hovered.
Then, with a click of the man with the straw-coloured hair's tongue, the sword began to move on its own. It swung down as if to deliver the final blow to the man vomiting blood. At the same time, the iron pipes that had been stuck in the man's body were pulled out and lined up at the feet of the man with the straw-coloured hair. And the man with the straw-coloured hair said:
"I've heard from Morgan. You're immortal, aren't you? No matter what I do—burn your brain with an electric heater, slash your arteries, crush your heart, chop your body to pieces—you'll always come back to life. How about we test that out right here?"
The sword danced on its own. The man with the straw-coloured hair, with his violent behaviour, laughed eerily, and blood splattered everywhere.
Is what's happening in front of me now a hallucination, or reality? Or is it some kind of magic trick, or complete magic, or a bad dream? Alexander thought, doubting her own eyes. Then, her arm was pulled.
"The Sir is holding him down, hurry! Come with me!!"
It was Patrick Lerner, who had appeared behind the dazed Alexander, who had pulled her arm. He grabbed her arm and ran, dragging her along. He led her into the backstreet and pushed her into a black SUV that was parked at the end of it. Then Patrick Lerner barked an order at the person sitting in the driver's seat of the SUV. "Lucan, get the car moving, now!"
"Hey, what happened to the Sir and K?"
The person who leaned out of the driver's seat and asked Patrick Lerner this was the person known as 'Lucan', wearing a pair of garish fluorescent green glasses. She asked him in a carefree voice, but Patrick Lerner brushed off her carefree question with a voice full of tension.
"Get the car moving, now! Alexander's badly hurt, now hurry!!"
"No way, really?! Got it, I'll floor it!"
As Patrick Lerner also got into the SUV and closed the door, the sound of the accelerator being floored and the engine roaring filled the car. The car lurched, and the pain from her wound made Alexander groan.
Then Patrick Lerner took something out. Something that was crackling with electricity was pointed at Alexander.
"This will only hurt for a moment. Alexander, hang in there...!"
The last thing Alexander saw in her blurry vision was a light that was scattering fine sparks. When she realised it was a stun gun, a powerful electric current shot through her body, and she lost consciousness. The last thing she heard was 'Lucan's' high-pitched scream and Patrick Lerner's curses.
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