What Rentaro found unexpected was that even after it became like this, the Monolith still seemed to evoke some sort of reverence in his chest. It was a massively enormous structure that surpassed UV rays, acid, attacks, and human intellect. He didn’t know what to say now that it had collapsed, but thinking it appropriate to thank it for its hard work, Rentaro mourned it in his heart. Rentaro made a large detour around the grave marker of the Monolith and finally stepped into Unexplored Territory. Although, since Monolith 32 had collapsed, the boundary between what was within the Monoliths and what was Unexplored Territory had become ambiguous. Animals from the ocean could not live on land. Animals from land could not live in the ocean. At the water’s edge, there was the undeniable boundary between life and death. This was the same thing. Humans could not live outside the Monoliths. Gastrea could not live inside the Monoliths because they would be exposed to the strong Varanium magnetic field. At least, that was how it was supposed to work. That rule was currently being overtly infringed upon. This was a battle with the lives of the Aldebaran troops and all the survivors of Tokyo Area on the line. There was no way he could afford to lose. Rentaro tried imagining what Aldebaran looked like, but no matter how hard he tried, it looked hazy and blurry. Even in the first picture he got from the Seitenshi, only the mouthparts had been lit up by the searchlight and could be seen clearly. He had not been able to see the other parts. It would not age or die, it had the ability to corrode Varanium, and it could command other Gastrea using various pheromones. Even though he kept finding out about its fearsome abilities one after another, he did not have the least bit idea what it looked like. And Gado’s adjuvant wouldn’t even be able to sleep well tonight because they had encountered Aldebaran. The darkness of the night sent Rentaro’s imagination in the wrong direction, and he gave a start at the silhouette of a parabolic antenna in his peripheral vision. Rentaro shook his head. Get ahold of yourself, Rentaro Satomi. Meanwhile, he had passed the expanse of flat plains and could see the ruins of the area destroyed by the Gastrea War. Just about when he passed the wreckage of a railroad crossing that was forever open, Rentaro started to think that maybe this area had once been a factory town. The abandoned pulp factory had pulp plastered everywhere and was becoming a grayish white, and the roof thatched with galvanized zinc sheet metal had turned red with rust. The beams seemed to be giving up on supporting the roof, and looked like they were inviting a collapse. Electric cables were tangled on the ground and looked like they would wrap around his legs. Of course, there was no electricity running through them, so there was no danger of getting electrocuted, but he was still careful. The adjacent roof that protruded as much as it could seemed to be entwined in a complicated way, and they looked like a single organism that had combined. Rentaro tried his best to not make any sound with his footsteps, stepping slowly on the ground heel first. He stopped and strained his ears at even this slightest rustle of a mouse. He used his beta light to read his map and compass, checking his direction as he walked. Narrowing his eyes and looking far ahead, he could faintly see something that looked like a forest. Apparently, past these ruins was the forest where Gado had said the Gastrea were hiding. However, if he didn’t go straight through and pass this long stretch of ruins, he would never reach the forest. Rentaro thought over Gado’s explanation inside his head. Ten kilometers one way. Twenty kilometers round trip. Assuming Rentaro walked at a speed of four kilometers per hour, he could make it back in less than five hours, but of course, it would not be that easy. Even now, he was using all his senses as he slowly marched forward with Gastrea in his surroundings, and even after he got out of this place, he would have to successfully find Pleiades and defeat it to return alive. No matter how well things went, it would take at least three times as long. In addition, he did not know what Pleiades looked like. All he knew currently was that it was ten meters long and that it probably had funnel-shaped mouthparts that it used to shoot compressed mercury. He didn’t have much to go on. Rentaro hesitated, but he decided to go into the factory and move forward by weaving from door to door. He decided that it was necessary in order to lower even slightly the possibility that he would get caught by one of the flying Gastrea since he had no way of knowing where they were observing from. He had been prepared for it, but he started to see strange things here and there inside the building. There was a giant rusting gear of unknown use, and below that was a bloodstain from some unknown animal’s entrails that looked like they had been splattered and painted on the wall, and the handrails in the hall had handprints of blood clinging to them. Looking carefully, Rentaro saw that there were white objects dropped here and there on the floor. He picked up one of the bigger pieces and shone his MagLite on it. It was a piece of femur that had marks from where it had been chewed on and stripped of its flesh by some kind of animal. This is bad, he thought as he forced his fear down. There was some sort of Gastrea that counted this whole ruin as part of its territory. He was probably smack-dab in the middle of that monster’s property right now. He had to get out of here as soon as possible, but if he ran into the Gastrea before getting out of the forest, it would be bad. He told himself that his first priority was to figure out what kind of Gastrea it was. He hadn’t noticed until he turned on the MagLite, but he could see faint footprints of mud at his feet. They were pretty big, and each one was about as big as Rentaro’s palm. From the looks of things, it walked on four legs. Also, stuck to the handrail that came up to about Rentaro’s waist in the hallway was a piece of an animal’s whitish fur. If it was already that tall on four legs, then it was probably pretty big. Leaning in and bringing his nose close to the fur, he could smell traces of animal. The leavings weren’t that old. Rentaro passed through a number of buildings until he entered what looked like a cement factory. He stopped at the strong scent of animal—it hit him like a wall. Passing a hallway with piping all over the place, he carefully put an ear to the rusted iron door beyond a broken conveyer belt. Confirming that there was no sign of anything alive beyond, he opened the door slowly and quietly. When he got it partway open, the stink from the crack was so strong that he had to cover his nose. This was it. He was sure of it. The stink of animal, rotting meat, mold, rust, and other things he couldn’t name mixed together into something so strong it made his eyes water. He fought desperately against the desire to immediately turn around and run out of the factory. Chanting to himself to calm down over and over in his head and taking a deep breath, he opened the door with all his strength and shone his MagLite inside. The ring of light he slid from right to left exposed a vast number of dried-up human bones in the dark and made them disappear again. Before Rentaro knew it, he had covered his mouth and was desperately feeling around in his pocket for a handkerchief. He had no room to doubt that this was where the Gastrea had feasted. As if begrudging the opening of a secret room, the place seemed to respond with a sullen silence. Rentaro made up his mind and stepped inside. His gaze was drawn to the flecks of dust dancing in the air as his light revealed them. Countless chains dangled from the ceiling, and a large, complicated machine was attached to the pipes. Timidly taking a step inside, his shoes squished something damp, and he was surprised by the creak of deteriorating floorboards. Even though he knew it was impossible, he couldn’t shake the wild idea that the next second, the skeletons would start laughing boisterously and stand up to attack him. While leaning over to pass the pipes, he inspected a corpse that had not been completely bleached yet. It had received serious damage and most of it had sharp bite marks, large and small. It looked like this wasn’t just one or two Gastrea. Is it possible that the Gastrea is even raising young here? Rentaro started to have an idea of what kind of Gastrea had claimed this area. If Rentaro’s predictions were correct, then he needed to get out of here as soon as possible. He felt the urge to bury the corpses abandoned between the cold boards, but he didn’t have time for that. He had no choice but to ask them to wait a little longer until they were able to reclaim their country’s land from the Gastrea. When Rentaro left the cement factory, he froze, panting. The forest where Pleiades was lay right in front of him. However, his impatience spurred him to move more than before. Rentaro continued on the jet-black pathway. The beam of the MagLite that he’d left on shook, and the silent road changed into something suffocating. When he got out of the town of dilapidated factories, it was all wild, and there was nothing left to take cover in until he got to the forest. He just had to get across. Just then, there was a quiet sound he normally would have ignored, and steady footsteps coming from somewhere. Rentaro pricked his ears, making sure to not look back. It wasn’t just one. There were at least five. And they were increasing. Naturally, his pulse quickened and he sped up his walk. Pulling his gun out of its holster, he attached the one-touch mountable silencer. It would be another hundred meters before he reached the forest in front of him. Even if he got away, he didn’t think his pursuers would stop chasing him, but he had hope that some might give up. Rentaro wanted to start running immediately, but he desperately controlled himself, knowing that it wasn’t time to provoke his pursuers yet. Apparently, they seemed to stop trying to hide their existence, and he could hear beastly howls from behind him. He was getting damp with sweat as he grasped the grip of his gun. For just one second, Rentaro glanced behind him. They were enveloped in darkness, so he couldn’t see details, but he confirmed silhouettes with four legs and rounder eyes than usual for a carnivore. The pairs of eyes amplified the trace amount of light and glittered dangerously, with vertically slit pupils shining red. From the position and height of the eyes, he predicted that each Gastrea was about the size of a lion. They were all bigger than normal. Rentaro chanted prayers to Buddha. They were wolves. Actually, the Gastrea that gave civil officers the most trouble were not the grotesque-looking ones or the poisonous ones. When what would have eaten humans in nature—in other words, their ultimate predators, the animals at the top of the food chain—became Gastrea and formed packs, they became the greatest threats to the corps. And here in Japan, the wolf undeniably occupied part of the food chain’s top rung. The horror of wolves becoming Gastrea was unbelievable. They were called “wolves in sheep’s clothing” after the men who pretended to be gentlemen and escorted women home, only to make passes at them, and just so, these Gastrea wolves followed after their human prey persistently. Nine times out of ten, normal wolves would not attack humans. However, that wasn’t true after they became Gastrea. After seeing the settlement at the cement factory, how could he have optimistically believed that wolves would not attack humans? These guys definitely killed humans and ate them. “Arooooooooooooo!” Suddenly, a wolf’s howl shook the night and Rentaro’s body was struck by metaphorical lightning. Crap! he thought and started running. The thin, almost sad howl was communication with the other members of the pack. In this case, it was without a doubt a command to attack. Rentaro heard countless footsteps and ragged breathing behind him. He gritted his teeth and fired off shots, half turning, the kickback hitting him in the shoulder. Because of the silencer, the whole gun was longer, and it was harder to turn and aim; he ended up firing randomly as he ran. He kept running, without checking to see if he hit anything. Rentaro ran through the animal trail he had turned into his own path and ran into the giant forest, pushing his way through the rough forest dense with prehistoric Jōmon cedars. Grasping at the rotted leaves and scattered puddles, he jumped over the intricate roots protruding from the ground. Making sure to shine light on the ground with the hand holding the MagLite, he told himself, Be careful. If his feet got caught and he fell, then he would be surrounded and tortured to death. The sound of footsteps ran alongside Rentaro in a fan shape. He couldn’t see them, but he could feel the pressure of their terrifying, high-powered pursuit. Suddenly, he heard panting from directly in front of him. When he pointed his light toward it, his vision was filled with a large, open mouth full of fangs lunging toward him. Reflexively, he bent his upper body back, and the massive jaws clamped the air where his neck had been. As the large body passed by, he froze. When did it get in front of me? Just then, his feet tangled in fright and he tripped on a root. Shit, he thought, as his torso pitched downward and the tree root approached him frighteningly fast, giving him no time to take a defensive stance. The world shook, and he suffered a blow to his brain. He didn’t even have time to groan in pain as one wolf Gastrea bit his artificial leg and shook it ferociously. He hurriedly cut off the pain sensors, but his nerves had already sent the shock straight into his brain. Rentaro sighted his XD gun even though he was still lying down, knowing it would be almost impossible to hit. He pulled the trigger three times. The 40-caliber Varanium bullets pulverized its fangs and jaw, and one shot hit an eye. Seeing the wolf retreat with a shrill canine yelp, he thought, I did it. However, there was a sudden heavy attack to his chest. His sternum grated loudly as a body that weighed at least two hundred kilograms leaned on top of him. A wolf’s massive front paws sank into Rentaro’s chest almost amusingly, and Rentaro let a groan out from between gritted teeth. A wolf other than the one that had mounted his chest opened its mouth wide and blew its beastly breath and drool toward his face. The fear of being eaten pierced Rentaro’s spine, and in desperation, he flung his right arm up and stuck it into the wolf’s mouth. “Haaaaaaaaaaahhh!” He ignited his explosive-style arm. In a moment, the wolf’s face distended at terrifying speed and the next instant, it exploded. A huge amount of spinal fluid and blood splattered on Rentaro’s face. Avoiding the giant body as it fell with violence, he jumped up and checked around him. He was surrounded. Then, how about this?! He stuck his right fist into the ground and activated his arm again. He used a striker to set off the bottoms of the cartridges inside and fired. There was a metallic clang, and the ejector kicked out empty golden shell casings that repelled the night as they rotated. A small explosion started from Rentaro’s feet, and sand and gravel was kicked up with intense speed as it covered his vision. The wolves were flustered and moved back somewhat. Seeing the break in the enclosure around him, Rentaro fled with all his might. He ran all-out, without pacing, and soon all the strength left his body and he hurt all over. His vision grew hazy. He was covered in mud, panting heavily, pulse racing, and he felt so sick that the contents of his stomach threatened to come back up. Inside his head, the part that was still thinking calmly rang an alarm bell. He couldn’t continue like this. Wolves followed their prey by smell. If he didn’t remove his own scent, then they wouldn’t stop chasing him. What should he do? He put his arm on a grove of prehistoric cedars and turned around, and suddenly his vision widened. Rentaro went dizzy with despair. The path ended abruptly and turned into a steep cliff. Shining his light on it, he saw that it was a long way down, maybe twenty meters to where the river at the base of the cliff flowed. It was flooded from the black rain that had been falling since morning and surged with thunderous roars. If he jumped in, there was no guarantee he would survive. He was surprised by a growl immediately behind him and turned around. His hand slipped with the momentum, and he dropped his flashlight. He hurriedly tried to pick it up but accidentally kicked the back of the light instead. It spun quickly, like a top, and with the light still on, as it strobed the landscape from light to dark, it brought out shadows of countless wolves from the darkness, only to have them disappear again. Rentaro took a step backward, dumbfounded. What in the world…? There weren’t just ten or twenty wolves. From the glowing red eyes he saw between the cracks just now, no matter how he counted, he estimated that there were almost fifty of them. He took another step backward in despair and tripped, almost losing his balance. The fragile part of the cliff crumbled away, and he could hear the sound of the pieces rolling down the steep slope. Rentaro swallowed hard. Predatory beasts approaching from the front, a cliff at his back. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and slowly opened his eyes again. Using his right leg as an axis, he spun his body halfway around and turned his back to the wolves, looking at his feet. Without the MagLite, he couldn’t see the bottom at all and could just barely hear the violent flow of the muddy river. He wasn’t in his right mind. He berated himself for almost losing his breath at the sight of the wide-open mouth of hell below him. Behind him came the growls of the wolves and the sound of their footsteps sidling up beside him. The soles of his shoes seemed to have grown roots, for he had to forcefully peel his feet away as he forced himself to jump. He felt an uncanny floating sensation when the wind hit his face; he was getting sucked into the darkness at amazing speed. He flapped his arms to maneuver himself to fall feetfirst, but it didn’t work. Abruptly, his whole body was hit with something hard, and he almost lost consciousness. But he was forced aware again by the frigid water that streamed over him. The flooded river started to carry Rentaro’s body away with the force of a roller coaster. Even if he opened his eyes, he couldn’t see even a meter in front of him in the muddy river. He was stunned witless for a second, until he started struggling desperately to find a handhold. However, he’d lost his sense of equilibrium and couldn’t tell if he was heading up or down, and his screams turned into muddy bubbles. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a pitch-black mass, and it was approaching him. By the time he realized that it was a large, sharp boulder standing in the bottom of the river, it was too late. With the impact much stronger than he imagined it would be, his backbone creaked and most of the air in his lungs turned to bubbles and was forced out of him. He crashed over and over into driftwood and boulders, and still unable to tell up from down, he spun like diseased leaves being scattered by the wind, turning over and over on the river bottom. Rocks the size of fists pelted his body all over like slugs from a shotgun. He was about to lose consciousness again. If he let go of the reins of consciousness right now, he knew instinctively that he wouldn’t wake up again. He waved his arms around desperately. Suddenly, Rentaro’s right hand grabbed onto something. When he realized that the rough protrusion was a handhold on a rock, he made a split-second decision to stretch out his left hand as well and go against the rapids. Blood was streaming from the top of his shoulders. He gritted his teeth and clung on with his whole body, yelling as he heaved himself upward. Before he knew it, Rentaro was lying faceup on a rugged bank, his chest heaving up and down. As he vomited the water that he had swallowed, he fought against chills that made his stomach feel like it was going through the wringer. Finally, Rentaro lifted his pallid face and looked around. Before the Great War, it had probably been a mooring place for boats. There was a small concrete pier with an abandoned mooring rope, and next to it he could see a dark brown shack. Gazing at the black rapids that looked like ink had been poured into them, he told himself that he was not completely out of danger yet. Rentaro wrung out the dirty water from his uniform and stood up unsteadily, holding his aching body as he changed out his equipment. He hadn’t noticed that the backpack he was carrying had been washed away, and the silencer had also come off, but at least his gun was still stored in its holster. It was a painful realization that his food rations, water, and the explosive he had gotten to defeat the Pleiades had all been washed away. Relying on the dim glow of the beta light, he went into the shack and found a match and portable fuel. There was alcohol and food, too, but it had been abandoned for more than ten years, so he decided that it would be better not to touch it. His uniform was heavy with the water it had absorbed, and his consciousness was about to give out, but in order to run away from those fearsome predators, he just had to move. However, he reached his limit faster than he thought he would. Unexpectedly, his vision wavered and his knees weakened. Rentaro fell to his knees. A wheezing sound escaped from his throat and his body trembled like he had the ague. When he looked up again, he saw an enormous tree trunk that pointed straight into the sky. This was probably thanks to the Gastrea virus. Giant sequoias that were easily more than five hundred tons were growing here and there, and just the outer circumference of their trunks was probably about ten meters. When Rentaro found a good clearing, he gathered firewood and laid out the solid fuel. The matches were damp and his hands shook, so he lost some matches before he finally lit a warm fire on the tenth try and managed to carefully move the subsequent fire. As the red flames grew bigger, he let out a sigh of relief from the bottom of his heart. After much effort, he peeled off the clothes twisted around his body, gave them a good wringing out, and put them back on. His body was covered with scratches and bruises, but seeing that he was able to move, he figured he did not have any broken bones. He was still worried about tetanus and other bacterial infections, but when he remembered that the portable dose of antibiotics was also in his backpack, his face twisted wryly. After his body had warmed up somewhat, the tense knots of nervousness also started to come loose. As if waiting for just that second, there was suddenly a sharp pain in his side. “Ow… Gah!” A large shadow the size of a lion had bitten Rentaro’s side, and fresh blood was spraying out. More than the pain, he felt dumbfounded. Rentaro retreated to lean against one of the sequoias, holding his side. “Those guys…sure are persistent,” he managed to squeeze out between pants. At Rentaro’s words, the pack of wolves appeared smoothly out of the shadows of the trees. They showed no sign of being afraid of the bonfire. Why are they still here? he thought over and over in his head. Hadn’t he taken a gamble and jumped into the river to wash away his scent to avoid letting them use their highly developed sense of smell? He thought that much and then shook his head. It wasn’t worth thinking about. They had followed Rentaro down from the cliff and through rapids; they weren’t going to stop now. Just then, the hedge of wolves suddenly split, and a gigantic Gastrea walked out from the depths of the darkness. It had round pupils and a pointed snout like a canine, and its silhouette was slightly short and stout rather than sharp. Its white fur gathered more red as it reached its back, and on all fours, it was already over two meters tall, making all the other wolves look like pups. It was a Japanese wolf, said to have been extinct since 1905. Its canines were overgrown and looked like a saber-toothed cat, its tail was split into three, and one of its eyes was cloudy. Its fur was shedding all over the place. It looked as evil as the watchdog of hell. It was probably a Stage Three, and no doubt the leader of the pack. Rentaro’s legs became unable to support his body, and he slid down to the ground with his back still on the tree trunk, leaving a diagonal trail of blood along the way. Checking the wound in his side, he saw that the hand and shirt he had been using to press down on the wound was bright red. It was a serious wound that needed immediate treatment. Rentaro gritted his teeth and looked up at the sky. Was today the last day of his life? If so, what had been the point of his sixteen years of life? Was the hominid called Rentaro Satomi put on this earth for sixteen years just to be eaten by Gastrea in the depths of this dark forest today? Irreplaceable memories flashed in his mind, and before he knew it, tears welled up and flowed down his cheeks. The leader of the pack walked in front of him with sneering eyes, filling Rentaro’s vision with its open mouth. But right before Rentaro was devoured, the wolves suddenly perked their ears. They changed the direction of their stances, tilting their bodies forward. As they growled, they focused on the darkness beyond the bonfire before Rentaro. He looked in the direction of their gazes hazily, but Rentaro couldn’t make anything out. However, the wolves could see something. Just as he thought it, the pack of almost fifty wolves howled and rushed into the darkness. Immediately after, there was the sound of combat and yaps of pain. Rentaro didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly, all the sound stopped, and the place was filled with silence. He heard the bonfire popping and the sound of an owl hooting from somewhere. What just happened…? Rentaro leaned the top half of his body forward and looked hard at the depths of the darkness in front of him. Suddenly, something was thrown at superhigh speed into the trunk of the sequoia next to him, and the sound of pounded flesh echoed. Rentaro gazed in wonder. That something that had been thrown into the tree was one of the wolves that had attacked him. Its neck was twisted with an abnormal strength, its tongue was sticking out, and a straight line was carved into its stomach. With the crash, a flower of blood bloomed on its face, and it became clear that it was dead. Seeing the slash on its stomach, something stirred in Rentaro’s memory. Where had he seen this nightmarish swordsmanship before…? He raised his voice in surprise. This was the same thing as what he had seen with Enju three days ago at the civil officer frontline headquarters. They had found civil officers dead on the street while they were recruiting members for their adjuvant. It had looked like a quarrel between civil officers, but it had ended in him not knowing who had actually done the killing. The two civil officers lying piled on top of each other had been carved with the same swordsmanship. Why was this here? “Is there anyone who saw what happened?” “C-could you be Rentaro Satomi?” At the scene of the crime, this was the first thing the witness had said. “What if I am?” “Uh… Y-you… Never mind, it was my mistake. Forget about it.” “Huh? What do you want?” “I said, forget about it!” When Rentaro had spoken, sounding irritated, the witness had turned and left the scene before Rentaro had a chance to call him back. Thinking back on it now, that was a strange dialogue. Why did the witness go out of his way to check Rentaro’s name and then insist that he had made a mistake afterward? Could it have been something like this? What if a civil officer pair that was definitely not supposed to be there was there? A pair that had been defeated by Rentaro and Enju and were treated as if they were dead and removed from the civil officers’ list? That’s why the witness doubted his own senses. Because there was no way dead people could walk around… There was one. Just one pair that could maneuver such a sharp slash and that was supposed to have died in their clash with Rentaro and Enju during the summoning of the Zodiac Scorpion. Why hadn’t he noticed until now? Three more wolves were blown out and crucified on the tree trunk in succession from out of the darkness. There was a cross cut into their stomachs, a death cross—the universal symbol of God’s authority over those who were going to die. Rentaro’s arm flung up, and he aimed his gun into the darkness. After a while, the leader Gastrea of the pack came stumbling out. Both of its saber-toothed cat fangs had been broken, and it was covered in cuts. There was a deep wound on its neck, and fresh blood dripped steadily from the wound and dyed its white fur red. The Gastrea looked with pleading eyes as its head shook left and right, and then fell to the ground with a plop. The body seemed to be at a loss for a while after losing its head, but it finally fell sideways to the ground, shaking the earth as it fell, and then stopped moving altogether.
Chapter 48
27 min read