“And there you have it, Norman. Let me list the charges against you again: disturbing the peace, property destruction, and alleged treason against Cartesius. Do you understand why you’re in this situation now?” “No, not at all. That last one is especially insulting.” “Is it really? Weren’t your regular visits to the capital part of your plan?” “You know full well I was just reporting to headquarters on my sister’s behalf.” “But Cartesius still has its doubts. That’s why I’m here interrogating you. I can’t just nod and say, ‘Sure, okay,’ when you say you didn’t do it. The four incidents you told me about might be isolated, but together, they stack up against you. You won’t be walking out of here scot-free.” At that, Jim let out an exaggerated sigh. “Honestly, this pains me as your friend, you know? If I left your interrogation to someone else, you’d be found guilty instantly. That’s why I took it upon myself to act as your interrogator.” “…We’re going back to square one here, but the way things are going, what happens to me again?” “Execution. We may be short on agents, but your last actions constituted a clear act of treason. Cartesius can’t deal with that leniently.” “What if you intervened on my behalf?” “Heh.” The nature of Jim’s smile changed. What was a fixed grin became deeper and more intense. This was the real business, so to speak. “I’ll make a deal with you, Norman.” The words were practically sung. “I’m offering you the simple and obvious benefit of avoiding a death sentence. I’ll even pull some strings to clear all your current debts. In exchange…,” he continued, “I want your help with militarization of the Unlaw.” “…Militarization?” “That’s right. I don’t need to explain the why to you, do I?” Norman’s face was blank. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel anything so much as he was suppressing some emotion. Jim was smiling. He was grinning broadly as if to say he couldn’t be enjoying himself more. “Two years ago, our country suffered a major defeat in the war and brokered a ceasefire in exchange for major compensation. But that’s only temporary. We don’t know when war will break out again. What do we do then?” The Unlaw possessed supernatural abilities, each one causing incidents that reflected their individual psyches. What if those were weaponized? “I find those monsters called Unlaw utterly revolting, but I can’t deny their usefulness. They’re costly to train but yield excellent results as weapons.” “…And?” “I’m recruiting you, Norman. I rate your ability to control the Unlaw above anyone else’s. I want you to lead the Unlaw special forces unit I’m assembling.” “…” “Depending on their abilities, they’ll either kill enemies on the battlefield or act as spies in enemy nations. We’re in an age where spies are more valuable than ever. Of course, I’ll guarantee your salary and benefits.” “…” “You already dedicated your life to your country once. This is the same as picking up a gun for your country. What do you say, Norman? I want to hear your answer.” Norman gave no reaction, not shrugging, stirring, or changing expressions. He just asked one question. “What happens to the four of them?” “Of course, they’ll stay your pets. They’ll just be your weapons from now on, too.” “I see. We’re done here.” It happened in an instant. Before Jim knew it, Norman was standing in front of him. In a single motion, without any warning, he’d leaped onto the long table. Jim hadn’t taken his eyes off him and was sure Norman had been bound hand and foot with rope. He’d crushed the documents Jim was holding minutes ago—yet he made sure not to step on the photos of Shizuku and the others. “Gah?!” He tried to stand but couldn’t because Norman had kicked his right knee before he even had a chance to move. As Jim fell forward, Norman struck him in the head with an elbow and caught Jim’s head under his arm as he came down off the long table. “Wai—” “No.” There was a dull crack, the sound of Norman breaking Jim’s cervical vertebrae. When he relaxed his arms, the corpse of the boy who’d been smirking only moments ago rolled to the ground. Ignoring it, Norman said: “…That was exhausting. Now, where am I?” Weighed down with fatigue, he placed both hands on the long table near the back. “Should I go stop the other four and free my sister? Or leave the cleanup to someone else…? No, I’ll just take everyone and run. I have contingency plans, but—” While he was mumbling to himself, something made him turn around. Two things were wrong behind him: the door on the left was half open and the corpse Norman had just created was nowhere to be found. “Huh… Huh?” His gaze turned upward, or rather, his ears had reacted to the clicking of footsteps above his head. “…I see.” Norman nodded once more and started gathering his things from the desk. He fixed his clothes, tucked away his personal items and folding cane into his coat, confirmed that his gun was still loaded, and, finally, placed his felt hat on his head. “Good grief… That guy has no sense of taste.” He sighed, the reason for which was visible outside the window as he approached. A night view of Bardium spread out before him. There was only one place high enough to give him such a sweeping view. “…Bardium Tower, huh?” A strong gust of wind blew at the top of Bardium Tower. It was a large bell tower, furnished with a large bell as its symbol. The stone structure was fairly large, supported by pillars on every side. It had no walls by design, offering a view of the walled city below as the wind blew strongly. At its center, directly under the massive bell, Jim Adamworth waited for Norman Hamish. Norman had broken his neck, but there he stood—alive—as if nothing had happened. “Don’t you find the city odd?” Jim began speaking immediately. “No one knows when the city walls were erected—but it seems like it all started with nobles who backed the founding of Cartesius. The wealthy settled here, bringing those who worked for them, and it gradually became a city.” “And?” “That was the Bardium of old, but as you know, it’s now a den of monsters. There’s a new Unlaw incident every week, and you’re always running around town trying to deal with it.” A different outcome than his goal. There was definitely something strange about the city. “I believe this city is one big test site for the Unlaw. I looked into it at Cartesius headquarters but found no clear answers.” “Then are you an Unlaw, too?” Norman had thought regenerative abilities were impossible—but it wouldn’t be strange for an Unlaw to have that ability. The part that made it hard to believe was that Jim, with his status in Cartesius, would be one of them. “Of course not. Don’t lump me in with those monsters.” “Then what are you?” “I specialize in Unlaw Categories, but the only way for them to ascend Categories is either steady training or significant mental and physical strain. Applying the letter is quicker, but we only have so many test subjects.” “…I see. That makes me want to puke.” “Yes. This is an artificial immortality procedure to forcibly sustain the Unlaw.” “That’s ridiculous. If you want to militarize them using that, it’s as good as mass-producing them.” “Unfortunately, the success rate is low. That goes for Unlaw as well as ordinary humans. To date, I’m the only successful example.” “I really wish you weren’t.” Norman swallowed the bile rising in his throat and held down his hat against the wind. This wasn’t a story he wanted to keep hearing, but Jim kept talking. “Well, now that I’ve revealed that shocking truth, nothing has changed. We’re already short-staffed due to the missing intelligence agents. On top of that, when we captured you, you wiped out twenty of my private troops like some kind of hitman, just like you did to me. I’ll let that one slide.” “I meant to restrain them, but they came at me ready to kill so I had no choice.” “Ha-ha-ha! And? Now you have escape and murder added to your charges.” “Huh, are you pulling the strings behind all this?” Norman reset all the switches in his mind. Whenever he worked with Shizuku and the others, Norman switched his own thoughts, abilities, and actions. It wasn’t that he was slacking off. Letting them use their abilities to the fullest simply made it that much easier to solve cases—and above all, he wanted to meet the expectations they had of him. “…Oh, and why do you think that?” “The train hijacking was too well done.” “Do you mean the route change?” Jim was unruffled. Instead, he smiled at Norman like he was anticipating something. “No. What happened before that. How did Nocker Cromwell’s thugs sneak into the freight car? If they’d boarded with the passengers, I would have noticed them.” “Then…hmm. They either boarded before the passengers or were lying in wait when the passengers arrived.” “Right. In that case, there was more to that plan than just the culprits.” “Which would be?” “Mary Wallwood was the CEO of a shipping company.” The woman who was killed in the first case. She’d lost her husband and used her skills to take charge of his shipping company. But she was dead. Shipping companies were crucial to the walled city. “If she died, the company would cease to function. Or cracks would start to show.” As he spoke, Norman laid out everything he had seen in his mind like a map. He was in the living room of his home. The furniture was in its usual place, but the small items placed there were clues. First, he picked up a model train. Seeing a woman’s nightgown lying on the floor, he next turned his attention to… “The man Jacqueline Harley murdered, Blount Byron, was an antique dealer for the nobility.” There was a blood-soaked bandage. “The incident she caused resulted in his death, exposed an illegal brothel, and put the nobles under police scrutiny and pressure. Ultimately, their motions were limited.” Pulling the bandage led him to grubby coins in a grubby box. The desire the Ripper sought to punish, and the hell that gave birth to her. “You’re jumping ahead.” “For now.” But as he walked through the room of memories and took in what he saw, the story started to shift. The large diamond ring Filzy Mule tried to steal had come to rest atop the woman’s nightgown. “The phantom thief case. That incident completely destroyed the museum, effectively shutting down its operations. The question there is, what happens to the undamaged exhibits? You can’t just leave them in a destroyed museum.” “Either the wealthy buy them, or they’re relocated to somewhere else in the city or a museum in a different city.” “Exactly. But the nobles were limited by the fallout from the brothel incident, especially those who desired antiques. They probably didn’t want to make any large purchases after the death of Blount Byron. On top of that, the ring was already thought of as cursed and was further tainted by the destruction of the museum. Even in this city, it would be difficult to find a buyer for it.” The box of gold coins disappeared from the room. “So they’d move it to a museum outside the city. Who would handle moving it but a shipping company?” “So it was the Wallwood company? Did you confirm it?” “I did. The museum curator was among the dead on the train. The cargo list included the diamond, and there were documents from the Wallwood company.” Norman found the dining car, with its corpses of nobles and merchants who dealt in expensive goods. Among them was the director of the Bardium museum, who was present to oversee the transport of the artwork. “Hmm. But why go out of your way to choose a precarious company whose CEO just died?” “And that’s where we circle back to the beginning.” “Ah, I see.” Jim nodded, seemingly satisfied. Norman didn’t move, only sighed. “Earlier, you said you were friends with Lady Mary.” That was how the train hijacking occurred—the four seemingly separate cases came together as one. “All four incidents were connected.” “Are you saying I committed those crimes?” “Yes.” Norman nodded and steepled his fingers. This was the main event. “Nocker Cromwell said he’d gotten information that we’d be on the train. I see, that’s why he orchestrated the train hijacking. But when I think it through, it doesn’t add up. He was discarded by Cartesius. I never know when, but I do go to the capital pretty regularly, and it was only recently that Clareth was assigned as my bodyguard.” Nocker Cromwell had acted because he knew that Norman Hamish’s companion on the trip would be Clareth Airystep—but how would a revolutionary who was supposed to have been discarded by Cartesius know such a thing? “Alternatively, how did Mary Wallwood know about Alfred Curtis’s awakening? Were they really discussing their future? Perhaps. But a newly awakened Unlaw would do everything in their power to hide the change. So…did someone tell her?” In that way, Norman had begun to question things, and— “Then everything connected.” Could someone have told Mary about Alfred? Could someone have told Jacqueline what would happen if Mr. Byron were killed? Could someone have pushed the museum director? Could someone have informed Nocker of Norman? “Someone was pulling strings behind the scenes.” The chain of nearly forced connections was made up of fragile threads. Only after piling doubt upon doubt could he see them, assuming they even existed at all. They ensnared all who touched them—malice woven by someone’s will, entangling and spreading like a web throughout the city. A thin, nearly invisible spider’s thread that you wouldn’t notice even if you saw it. “And that someone…is you.” “Excellent reasoning. You’re an ace detective.” But— “You’re the one who said the whos and hows didn’t matter, right? You should be talking about the whys.” “I don’t know, and I don’t care. It’s not like I’m writing a report.” “That’s exactly it, Norman! That’s what I mean! That attitude of yours!” Jim’s ever-present smile fell away to reveal a face screaming like a sobbing child. “Don’t you think you could be a little more caring toward me?!” “…What?” “We’re friends, yet you always talk about those monsters! I don’t even mean like in the interrogation. You’re always asking about how to stabilize or utilize their abilities! You just drop by my lab whenever you feel like it, ask for what you want, and leave! Think of how I feel, left all alone and heartbroken when you’re gone!” “…Hang on. That’s your reason? You did all this because you wanted me to pay attention to you?” “Well, I mean, I had a practical reason, too.” Jim suddenly regained his composure, but the speed of the change could only be called eerie. “Honestly, I wanted to know what lay beyond Category Three. I thought you might know, but like I said, you’re always so cold, so I thought putting you in danger a few different ways might get me some answers.” “You…wanted to get information out of me, but what if I’d been killed in the process?” “I was confident you wouldn’t be. Though honestly, it wasn’t worth it. You never talked, and even though I had my people monitor all four battles, there were no results from Fairy or Demon Dog. In the Jewel incident, my agent was caught in the collapse and killed. And Fairy even wiped out an entire group of miners.” “Don’t play the victim.” “Sure, whatever. But you don’t have to be so cold!” “What’s with the emotional whiplash? Are you trying to make me laugh?” “Heh… If you’re laughing, that makes all my efforts worth it…” “…” “Whoa, that cold stare gives me the chills!” Norman only felt visceral disgust at his writhing—but that was Jim’s why. He wanted Norman to notice him. He had questions only Norman could answer. Norman couldn’t understand and didn’t want to. “And that’s it! I’ve shown you every trick up my sleeve! My dear friend, my dear Detective, I framed you, and you killed me, so how about we call it even?! Why not research and dominate the monsters together?!” “No way in hell.” At this point in time, one of them had framed the other, who’d killed him outright—yet Jim still wanted to talk it out and reconcile. Norman thought it was the height of selfishness. Toying with people’s hearts, lying to them, deceiving them, and acting purely to serve himself. “Monsters…you call them monsters? Who’s the monster here?” There was a creak of his heart twisting painfully at the reality in front of him. The person beside him. Even unseen and then touched, friction grew between them, creating tension. “Ah…that’s exactly what I mean about you.” Norman tsked before he could stop himself. This. This was what he couldn’t forgive, why he had stayed in the city. “You call them monsters. But, you know…you should take a look in the mirror.” They were branded as Unlaw—as monsters—used as weapons and tools, exploited for others’ convenience and greed, not given any rights as people, and only seen for their powers. “Who’s the real monster?” If they chose to commit crimes and abuse their powers, that would be one thing—they would deserve to be punished. But what if that wasn’t the case? What if they had accidents caused by their powers, or lost control, but never actually crossed the line? There were all different types of people, with all different types of powers. Maybe the gulf between them was just a bit wider than usual. Norman was sure it wasn’t that big of a difference. They could live without committing crimes, doing what was right, doing things for others—even if they were just a little different—without causing trouble for anyone. “Being a monster isn’t the issue. Doing evil as one is, which you are.” “That’s strange coming from you, Norman. Aren’t you using those four yourself?” “Yeah. That’s right. I am.” From the outside, he was no different than Jim. He’d pushed aside, killed, and rejected others to prioritize them—all for his own reasons. “Even so, those girls gave their love to me. A monster like me.” They’d each confessed to Norman, the monster, in their own way. “Yes, this music warms my heart.” “Whichever form I’m in, please see me as I am.” “As long as you keep saying that, I’ll keep being a detective.” “Your choices are what bring me the most joy.” They’d brought color to Norman’s once-empty world. He couldn’t allow their hearts to be trampled on. That was something he couldn’t forgive. If forgiveness wasn’t an option, he’d put everything on the line to end things. “So I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you until you admit defeat. And if you don’t admit defeat, I’ll just kill you until you die.” “Nice! That’s fine, too! Try to deduce how you’ll kill me and prove it to me! You be the detective, and I’ll be the villain!” “Call us whatever you want. No matter what title we have, there’s only one word that describes us.” That was— “We’re birds of a feather, fighting among ourselves, like true monsters.” The detective’s cold eyes focused sharply on the villain. He took the folding cane from his breast pocket, swung it lightly to open it, then assumed a natural stance, gripping the middle of the cane. The villain smiled widely, eyes gleaming brightly as he raised his fists in front of his face. The distance between them was just a few meters. Light flickered from the moonlight and the lamps on the four stone pillars. “Let’s have some fun, Norman!” The villain advanced lightly, with inhuman physicality. He bridged the distance between them in an instant, and threw a sharp, right-handed straight punch at Norman. It was a textbook-perfect technique. “Oh?!” A crack, like wood snapping, echoed—it was the sound of the villain’s right elbow breaking. Norman had blocked the right fist closing in on him with his technique, using his left arm that held the cane. Faster than the villain’s arm could completely extend, Norman looped his cane around it, locked the joint, and used the villain’s own momentum to break his arm. “That’s number two.” And the detective didn’t stop there. He hooked his left arm around the villain’s right, using his wrist to move the tip of the cane into place, his target the villain’s throat. With a crack, the detective slammed the butt of the cane into him, successfully making contact with its mark. “Guh!” A muffled sound escaped the villain’s throat, inarticulate. His throat had been crushed, and the cervical vertebrae behind were pulverized by the cane thrust straight into it—his neck snapped in an unnatural direction, like a camellia flower plopping to the ground. He was dead instantly, killed by a single counterattack. However, the distorted smile on the face seated on his broken neck only deepened—when he should have stayed dead. “Huff… How…?” He tried to say How like you, but couldn’t finish, as the detective was already in motion. A kick from his right foot crushed the villain’s left knee. The villain’s knee buckled, not just from the detective’s raw strength but from simple human anatomy. The detective seized the villain’s head, which was still reeling from the momentum, with the left arm that was still wrapped around him. “Ooof!” With a sharp intake of breath, the detective dashed the villain’s face against the cobblestones and heard the sound of his skull being crushed. “…” Not losing the power behind the blow, the detective spun once on the cobblestones, then looked behind him: Red blood poured from the villain’s head, staining the ground. His forehead was caved in, his brain likely damaged. The vital points and structure of the human body and how to efficiently destroy someone—the detective, who had once been a military doctor, knew them all too well. It was a terrible thing to use techniques and knowledge meant to save people to kill them. “That’s number three.” He stared at the corpse, with its broken neck and crushed face. “N-N-N-N-Normaaan!” The villain sprang up, shouting the detective’s name. His neck had already regenerated, and his facial wounds were also starting to heal. His speech was slurred, and he wobbled for a few steps but was soon back to normal. “…That’s gross.” The wound was healing in reverse—blood continued to flow, but the wound slowly packed itself with flesh, creating a gruesome portrait. “Don’t say that, Norman! You can do the same, can’t you?!” Laughing loudly, the villain approached the detective as if to embrace him. This time, a left hook tore through the night air and headed straight for the detective’s face, but he dropped to his knees and ducked his head to avoid it. The hook barely grazed his face, splitting his ear slightly and sending blood flying. He pushed his right side forward, like he was about to dive into the villain’s arms, and used the momentum to strike with his right elbow. “Gah…!” The elbow struck the villain’s heart precisely and sank deeply, shattering his ribs with the force. Before the villain could counterattack with his right arm, the detective hooked his cane around the villain’s right heel. He kicked the heel as if trying to raise the handle, and the villain toppled backward like his body was being yanked with it. “Number four.” The detective stopped him from falling by grabbing his tailcoat, held him there, and stabbed the handle of his cane into his left eye. The eyeball made a sloppy sound as it was crushed and slowly collapsed as the detective pulled out his cane. “That was a little gross.” He rubbed the handle of his cane against the cobblestones, almost as an afterthought, but never took his eyes off the villain. “That was a cruel thing to say, Norman.” “I hate this.” The detective watched the villain get up with a sigh—more precisely, he watched his wounds mend, his crushed left eye repairing itself in reverse. He’d pierced his vitals, broken his neck, damaged his brain, and crushed his eyeball, but the wounds all healed. He focused intensely on the healing wound, burning the image into his mind while finding it unpleasant. “…?!” There was a sudden, red-hot sensation in his side, and intense pain made him collapse. Blood gushed from his right, and he reflexively pressed down on his side to stop it. “Ha-ha-ha, I had something up my sleeve, after all.” In the villain’s hand was a small gun—a compact, single-shot type that truly could be hidden up a sleeve. The detective had failed to react in time because he was focused on the villain’s wounds. “I…was aiming for your heart, you know.” “…With the muzzle, where you were looking…and the angle of your arm, I was able to calculate the trajectory. I was…too distracted to evade it, though.” “Hee-hee-hee… That’s pretty amazing to say so casually.” He was impressed and healing his wounds, but his steps were unsteady—likely from blood loss. Still, the villain was smiling. “Well, that’s some impressive martial arts skill you’ve got there. Being immortal means that you just don’t die, but you can still lose. Once this is done, I’ll get back to basics and re-hone my craft. That wound looks pretty serious, so how about we call it a night?” “I don’t give a damn about that.” Norman spat out the words and rose. His gait was unsteady, but he still struggled to his feet. “Norman! Don’t push yourself too hard! I don’t want you to die!” “Not my problem.” Jim came within arm’s reach, and everything changed. Norman moved in a flash, like a predator, disregarding his own wounds and circling behind Jim. “…?!” He stabbed a thin sword into Jim’s chest—along with his own. The blade had been hidden in his collapsible cane. “What…are you doing, Norman?! A hug I wouldn’t mind, but getting stabbed?! You’re in more danger than me…!” “I avoided the vitals… Well, if you move wrong, it could probably hit a major blood vessel.” That stopped Jim in his tracks—the thought that he wouldn’t die, but Norman might, and Norman knew just where to avoid a lethal blow. “Besides…it’s not like this was for nothing.” Norman took a step forward. Shoved by the back of his knees, Jim did the same. “You’re immortal but barely. Blood doesn’t regenerate. And your body is still human.” Another step forward. “Besides, isn’t there a limit to your healing? That last wound obviously took longer to heal than the first.” That was why Norman let himself get shot—he was observing how long it took for Jim’s eye wound to heal. Another step forward. “That inconsistency wouldn’t exist if you were truly immortal, meaning there are limits to your healing. I don’t know what resources your body uses to heal, but knowing that’s enough.” “You thought that far ahea—” Another step forward. There were probably various definitions of an ace detective, but if it meant not overlooking minute details to deduce the truth, then Norman Hamish was certainly worthy of the title. One more step forward, then another. “Norman, you can’t be serious!” “Oh, I am.” One last step forward, and he was already at the edge of the great bell tower—with one more step, they’d plunge straight from the tower to the ground. Of course, a fall from there meant certain death for him. Beneath his feet, the faraway cityscape standing out starkly against the vast pitch-black darkness. “Even you couldn’t survive a fall from this height, could you?” “But you’ll die, too! Are you planning to commit a lover’s murder-suicide with me?! That actually wouldn’t be a bad twist!” You call that not a bad twist? Even Norman couldn’t help but snicker. Even now, Jim had moved because it would kill Norman—he was truly committed. “Why would you go this far?” “If I don’t do this, you won’t stop, will you?” “Are you sure about this? What about the girls you love?” Jim’s question triggered visions. Of Shizuku. Of Eltiel. Of Lonsday. Of Clareth. Maybe it was a hallucination from blood loss. They were yelling at him to stop. As the questions piled on further, Norman began to wonder in the back of his mind why he was doing this himself. “…Sigh.” Norman smiled faintly—but not for Jim Adamworth. His smile was for the girls who were mere visions. Or perhaps it was for himself. “Elementary, my dear beloveds.” He didn’t even need to take another step forward, as a gust of wind blew in, giving the hero who was trying to protect the city a push. Norman Hamish and Jim Adamworth were hurled into the air. The darkness below them was like a waterfall basin, with the tower rising in the night like the huge waterfall itself. The detective and villain plunged into its depths. The strong wind tore them away from each other, and fresh blood whirled in the air. As his life ebbed away into the sky, Norman had a feeling of déjà vu. It was Shizuku’s vision come to life. She’d seen him falling from a great height. If her vision was correct, she might be watching helplessly from the ground now, unable to act. But Norman believed that in this situation, where he faced certain death, Shizuku wouldn’t be the only one there. He saw blood dancing and splashing in the air, and in the next moment, a voice was carried to him on the wind. “Geez, this is what happens when you leave me behind, Mr. Norman.” Along with the voice, Norman collided with a board-like surface—no, not collided. What caught him was an extremely thin wall of air. Dozens, maybe hundreds of these walls, each weak enough to break easily on its own, were deployed in the direction of Norman’s fall. His body burst through the successive walls, taking no damage because of their fragility. The many layers slowed his freefall. They distorted the very nature of the air, as if to envelope something precious. The Spriggan Hand’s protected treasure. Of course, that didn’t mean it was over. The brittle air walls, meant for Norman’s safety, couldn’t cancel out his velocity entirely. “Handling my assistant’s messes is my job, but even I have limits.” The Jewel caught the detective midair. About halfway down the tower, a brown-skinned woman cradled Norman in her arms. As for how she did it, the answer was simple: She rushed up the tower’s walls with her extraordinary physical ability, spun her body, and used centrifugal force to return to the wall. “Hngh!” She thrust her hardened hand into the wall, scraping the outer wall of the tower with her wrist as they both fell. Norman’s body couldn’t handle a forcible stop at the moment—he was already on the verge of losing consciousness from the shock of hitting the wall earlier, so she let them slide along, using her wrist as a brake to slow them down. She’d deduced that her extreme physical abilities were the best way to save him. The Anvilcel Maiden pointed to the truth. “Catch him, or I’ll kill you!” Still a few meters off the ground, she threw Norman as gently as she could. The threat to his life was still far from over—the surface lay in deep shadows with little light. Hell didn’t end just because the fall had been shortened to a mere few meters. “Woof!” The Black Hellhound charged forward, hurled herself into the air, and caught Norman in her beautiful, glossy fur. She didn’t worry about the landing, just welcomed her master with her belly and dropped down onto the cobblestones below. She absorbed all the impact herself, giving Norman the sensation that he’d merely landed on a bed. The Hellhound stood on the earth that should have been hell, still burning with the same loyalty after shapeshifting into a human. The Black Dog gleamed in the midst of hell. “Lord Norman!” The Hellhound quickly scooped him up—the stab wound in his chest and the gunshot wound in his side weren’t fatal, but he’d lost enough blood that he wouldn’t survive long. As she held him, the detective rushed over, rubbing her wrist, and the Fairy squatted nearby, opening a medical kit—but Norman remained unresponsive. “I won’t allow you to die like this, Norman.” Tear Blossom placed her hands on his chest—her long, white hair hanging loose and her slender, pale hands bare. The girl who loathed touching anything used her ability for the one man in the world she wanted to touch. “Norman.” Shizuku Teardrop called to the one who brought her peace. “Lord Norman.” Eltiel Siriusflame called to the only one unafraid of her. “Norman.” Lonsday Enhancedia called to the one who gave her a sense of justice. “Mr. Norman.” Clareth Airystep called to the one who never let her be bored. “Ah…” A faint noise escaped him as he resonated with them. Through the other four, Shizuku amplified her power and channeled her love into Norman—it had failed to reach him in the past, but now it would. The message she wanted to give to the one she loved was simple. Echo Howling resonated in the mind. “Gasp.” Light returned to Norman’s eyes as he looked at the four girls surrounding him. Shizuku, unaccustomed to using her ability like this, was sweating like a waterfall. Eltiel clung to Norman for dear life. Lonsday smiled at him faintly, but the cigarette she held between her trembling fingers was unlit. There was no smile on Clareth’s face, just a desperate urgency as she began treating him. Norman tried to say something witty. “…That was great. Can we do it again?” Judging from the pokes, scratches, kicks, and painful prodding they gave his wounds, they didn’t think it was so great. “Norrrmaaan!” As morning approached, the dark sky brightened to white, and a scream rang out. When the five of them looked for the source of the scream, they saw Jim—for whom battered was an understatement. His entire body was covered in blood, broken bones protruding from every centimeter of his flesh. His gait was unsteady, his arms and legs twisted at odd angles. “I saw it! Just now! That was exactly what I had been looking for! Ha-ha-ha! I knew you would be the key, Norman! You’re the best!” Despite his injuries, his eyes gleamed brightly, lit up with joy. “…Ugh. There he goes. Has he always been like that?” “He’s always been hard to stomach…but he’s changed a lot.” “He was never not super creepy, but now he’s even worse.” “So this guy’s the big bad behind everything? Good grief… Norman?” The four found themselves unusually united as they recoiled, only to watch Norman take an unsteady step toward Jim. “…You’re really persistent, Jim.” “Sorry, Norman! A murder-suicide with you would have been fun, but it didn’t work out! But now! Those four who saved you, why do they look like that?!” Jim’s body had begun to regenerate, though at a slower pace than before. “That glow they’re emitting from their bodies! It has a totally different quality than their abilities! Tell me what it is!” “…Sigh.” Norman let out a long, resigned sigh. “…I call it Critical Case.” “Critical Case! What does that mean?! What kind of power-up is it?!” “No, Jim. It’s not a power-up. In fact, it’s the reverse.” It was… “Think of it as a safety valve that visualizes how active their abilities are using their bodies. It doesn’t expand their abilities. Even if their abilities are stable, there’s a lot we still don’t understand, and the risk of things going out of control isn’t zero.” “…And that glow?” “That was Stable State…meaning the strain of their abilities is manageable. When they reach their Deepened State, just before going out of control, the glow gets stronger and more beautiful. It’s really just a visual yardstick and nothing more.” That was why Norman always stood next to or behind them when Shizuku and the other girls battled—to monitor their condition and stop them immediately if there was a problem. He always kept an eye on them. “Since Unlaw abilities are tied to emotion, they might glow from heightened feelings even without using their abilities. Well, I’d say it’s harmless.” “…What are you talking about, Norman? It’s not a power-up? No, you’re wrong, wrong, wrong there! Monitoring stability and ability output will make things easier to control!” His excitement having reached its peak, Jim roared, his emotions bursting free as he was overwhelmed by the revelation. “How were you able to manage that?!” “It’s not that complicated, really. It’s just another extension of their abilities.” Norman staggered and tried to catch his breath. “I don’t want to go into too much detail, but you have to be considerate of and physically close to the other person.”
Chapter 20
32 min read