Down in the lower levels of the building where Shizuo and Izaya were fighting to the death, the foundation was very strong and mostly complete. The interiors were entirely finished in parts.
But given that the only lights were the fluorescents in the hallways, it was still quite a barren sight and not much better than a cleared-out empty building.
It was in this environment that three young women faced off.
This was not a glamorous scene or a bright and chatty one. Each of the women had suffered equal physical damage.
“Ha-ha! You two are good,” said Mikage Sharaku, a woman built like a street fighter, enjoying herself despite the wounds to her cheeks and arms. “I underestimated you. I shouldn’t have.”
The other two, Vorona and Kasane Kujiragi, gave her expressionless looks.
“In typical times, this phenomenon would cause my entrails to boil, but at present I deny to do battle with you,” said Vorona.
“I agree with her. I have no reason to fight you.”
It wasn’t a three-sided fight. Vorona and Kujiragi were heading to the top of the building, and Mikage was trying to interfere with their progress. On the other hand, Vorona and Kujiragi did not know each other well and were not capable of teaming up against their foe.
If Slon had been here instead of Kujiragi, Vorona would be three or four times as deadly, but it wasn’t until moments ago that she even learned Kujiragi was capable of fighting at all.
All she knew was that the other woman wasn’t weak but in fact had superhuman athleticism of her own. Mikage sensed as much through their pugilistic exchange. She gave her a cocky smile.
“I guess it’s true that you can’t judge a person by their looks. I never expected someone who looks as brainy as you to be a good fighter.”
“You have overestimated me. If I were truly brainy, I would not be in this place at all. And if I were as powerful as you make me out to be, I would be leading a different life right now.”
“Look, I’m not talking about some vague crap like your ‘strength as a person.’” Mikage looked toward the third woman and said, “Vorona, right? I wish I could’ve fought you at peak condition instead. Though knowing you, I bet you’d just use a gun or something.”
Vorona glared and pursed her lips. She’d suffered bruises all over her body from the steel beams dropped off the building’s roof. And in fact, she did have a gun, which had gotten trapped under the pile of beams.
Still, Vorona knew that even if she were in peak condition, the woman she was fighting was not one to be trifled with. She could be partially armed and still lose that battle.
As evidence of that, Mikage was currently fighting two capable women—even if uncoordinated with each other—and had stopped them short.
In between Vorona’s practiced martial arts and combination attacks, Kujiragi would strike with inhuman reflexes and speed. That was the kind of impromptu combination work that would take down any novice fighter, even a man with bulging muscles.
But Mikage blocked all of Vorona’s hits with her palms and evaded Kujiragi by just a hair. And in the moments when the two women switched attacks, she even countered with kicks of her own.
While Mikage wasn’t getting away scot-free, neither side was able to totally neutralize the other. The fight was turning into a stalemate.
If Shizuo was some djinni or spirit that transcended humanity, then this woman was an amalgamation of advanced technology.
Normally, Vorona would be delighted. If she could destroy this woman, who had pursued the extremes of human strength—or if she herself was utterly destroyed—then at last she could measure the strength of humanity.
But though she was facing an opponent who might fulfill her long-held wish, Vorona was not in the mood to celebrate.
Across from her, guarding the way to the stairs, Mikage smirked. “Want me to let you in on something? Whether you go up there or not, it won’t make a difference,” she said, grimacing with frustration that she couldn’t be there to see it. “This is a fight beyond that kind of interference, I bet.”
The building itself seemed to back her up there, as a dull crash from above traveled downward.
“The combatants up there are a guy whose body quit being human and a guy whose brain quit being human,” Mikage said.
With absolute certainty, Vorona replied, “There is no inevitability that a fight should be valid. There is no possibility of victory over Sir Shizuo. It is the direction of my duty that should stop the beating of his heart.”
“You sure talk some crazy Japanese…,” Mikage said with a grin as she shook out her hands. “As to your statement, I’ll admit, I didn’t think Izaya stood a chance against that monster, either…but the truth is, I’ve never actually seen what he can do.”
“?”
“He’ll happily lead a person to their downfall, but he doesn’t use his own violence to directly destroy a person. I mean, he’s got that whole shtick about loving humanity or whatever.”
Mikage glanced up at the ceiling for a moment, looking anguished that she couldn’t actually be up there to see their fight.
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“So I think this might actually be the first time he’s ever used all his power and seriously attempted to kill a human being.”
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Building under construction—upper levels
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“Ah… What a view.”
Izaya let his eyes travel down from the starless sky overhead.
“I think the view of the night under a sky without stars is the height of beauty. It’s a crystallization of human industry,” he said entirely to himself, the words melting into the darkness.
Izaya Orihara was not, in fact, holding any kind of conversation with the man who knelt at the center of the construction site.
That was Shizuo Heiwajima, grimacing with anguish on the ground.
It was an unthinkable sight: Izaya sat unharmed atop the steel beams of the building frame, looking down at Shizuo, who bore a number of wounds all over his body.
They’d been inflicted by wire and nail-gun traps that Izaya had set up.
All the traps would be instantly fatal to a normal person, but they were little more than scratches to Shizuo. They shouldn’t have had the ability to bring a being like Shizuo Heiwajima to his knees—and yet that was exactly where he was, on the floor of the building.
“…”
Shizuo said nothing. He merely glared up at Izaya, sitting off to the side, his expression pained. In fact, he was finding it difficult to even breathe, not that he wanted to say anything if he could.
It was not pain or blood loss that stole the freedom of his monstrously powerful body.
The first things to assault him were dizziness and fatigue.
There was no way he’d be feeling tired given the situation, but by the time he was aware of the abnormal feeling in him, it was already too late.
All the strength had left his muscles. He could no longer stand on his own.
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It was lack of oxygen.
Just as simple as oxygen deprivation. It seemed unlikely, happening in a construction site that was little more than vinyl covering over steel building frames, but it was indeed none other than a trap set by Izaya.
The fire, the crane attack, and all the other traps were nothing more than red herrings meant to hide the existence of this one.
Specifically, it was the fire-extinguishing system that had already been built into the building. Izaya tampered with the pipes from the carbon dioxide gas tank meant to snuff out fires, filling the building with the gas very quickly.
It would not have worked without Izaya’s brilliant calculations, predicting the wind direction and flow of air and guiding Shizuo to the place where the oxygen concentration was lowest.
It was thanks to the unprecedented level of murderous intent in Izaya’s mind—a true aura of lethality shrouding his brain, perhaps—that his concentration hit peak values.
However much gas was being pumped into the area, regardless of it being outside, the spot where Shizuo was standing had dangerously low levels of oxygen. He inhaled, not realizing this, and quickly lost full control of his body.
In fact, if the oxygen levels had been any lower, he might have fallen unconscious. And if the fight had been taking place in an enclosed interior, Shizuo could have died from lack of oxygen.
But sensing that an “enclosed space” was always temporary given Shizuo’s strength when in a rage, Izaya chose to employ this strategy instead.
How does one kill a creature to whom guns and blades mean nothing? The answer, to Izaya, was suffocation.
And as a result, the monster who’d taken a hit from a truck without blinking was now helpless on his knees.
But there was no joy or arrogance on Izaya’s face.