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THINKING was never Zelaide’s strong suit. Once he started concentrating on his thoughts, he was forced to face his inner self like looking into a mirror. He felt cut off from the outside world whenever he faced the beast within.
That was why he was always on the move. Unnecessary thoughts didn’t haunt him when he was moving his body. Anxiety and distress were always waiting just around the corner to crush him the moment he stood still. The past and future were not to be thought about. Only the present mattered.
Too many things had felt oddly out of place as of late. While each was insignificant on its own, the number of oddities continued to multiply at a dizzying rate, growing into one grand annoyance. He wouldn’t be able to move on unless he put the trivial puzzle pieces together and saw the bigger picture behind it.
Zelaide’s instincts set off alarm bells within him. Blaming his inability to think on his lack of education was a sorry excuse. He was capable of thinking, he just didn’t like to. Now was the time to put his brain to work and grab hold of the clues before they became missing puzzle pieces.
Which clues mattered most?
The man named Shank that the young Inferni blurted out definitely mattered. This plain-looking man was supposedly in a boxlike, empty room, and wore specs with a different thickness and color on one side.
Who was this shadowy figure who appeared and disappeared behind the scenes of conflict?
And then there was someone at Biotech who knew in advance that Euphemia was going to invite him into the breeding lab that night. Murakami was currently looking into who it might be, but it was unquestionably someone Euphemia knew well. But she had gone to great lengths to keep their little rendezvous a secret. She said she turned the cameras around and cut the sound before asking Zelaide to join her in the lab.
The spy knew Zelaide and Euphemia were together and left them be. And then they watched what happened from another room. Otherwise, the emergency alarm wouldn’t have sounded with such impeccable timing. There obviously wasn’t a malfunction. The spy set it off to stop them from making love.
Enemies abounded inside Biotech, City Hall, and Gothic City. But where was Shank?
Wei and Murakami were narrowing down the suspects based on various data such as the history of who accessed that room. They would investigate using human means and abiding by human laws. But Zelaide’s weapon was neither the law nor the strength of belonging to an organization such as Biotech or the police force. Raw instinct was all he had going for him.
The sleeper agent was someone inside Biotech who had close and personal knowledge about Zelaide and Euphemia. Since they were targeting Zelaide, they had to be a member of Infernum or one of the syndicates behind it. There were plenty of staff members at Biotech who were friends with Euphemia but didn’t know about Zelaide.
The only people he had contact with were Sonia, Ronaldo, a couple of her immediate coworkers, and her bosses Burhardt and Murakami. The rest were just nameless faces that might have seen him when he came to pick her up. Who should he suspect in this situation? How should he narrow it down?
But each person I met was oddly fixated on me in different ways.
Zelaide thought back on the few occasions he interacted with them. Sonia threw herself on him out of sexual attraction, Ronaldo had a bone to pick with him over his interest in Euphemia, and Burhardt was interested in him from a scientific perspective.
Come to think of it, there was somethin’ off ’bout him.
The strangeness his instincts called attention to needled at him. Zelaide closed his eyes and concentrated on digging up the fading insignificant impression he had.
“You’re like one of the males of a sexually dimorphic species that develop ostentatious looks for the sole purpose of attracting females.”
The man had said that to Zelaide when he saw him during the dinner with Euphemia’s coworkers.
What he said wasn’t important; Zelaide was used to being held in contempt. Many humans openly disparaged Beast Bloods despite their fear. Or perhaps because of it. And, as a Beast Blood, Zelaide was closely attuned to their emotions. Even the haughtiest of clients exuded instinctual fear toward the Beast Blood they spoke down on. Men were especially fearful. They unknowingly discern what is stronger than them and are frightened by it.
But that man wasn’t scared of me. He even seemed to be intentionally provoking me. And thinking back, he said some strange things too…
Zelaide drew on his memory of their uncomfortable conversation.
“You are aware it will increase the number of hours you have to spend at work, yes? Will you be okay after that incident?”
“I don’t mind! You have my sincerest gratitude for your concern.”
Then Zelaide’s thoughts turned to something Euphemia told him recently.
“Director Burhardt is rumored as the most likely next president. He’s been so kind to a new researcher like me and has been extra considerate ever since I was first attacked by Vermi. Meanwhile President Murakami didn’t even say a word to me.”
She was referring to the attack that started it all. The incident when Vermi thugs nearly killed her in the Wilds. That was the night Zelaide and Euphemia met.
During their meal together, Zelaide disregarded the comment as Burhardt simply being worried about her, but on closer inspection, that incident was kept a highly confidential secret. Then again, he might have been informed since he was Euphemia’s direct superior.
This is just my instincts talking.
Zelaide reached out and grabbed an IHT. One with direct access to Erica. It was currently one in the afternoon, not the typical time he contacted the mayor. But the IHT only rang once before the other side picked up.
“Zelaide?” Erica’s voice was harder than usual.
“…Do you have a minute, Mayor?”
“Yes. I was just about to contact you myself.”
“What happened?!”
The tone of her voice told him the situation was dire. Nervous sweat coated his hands. He was ready to fly into action.
“…Please don’t jump the gun. I have no solid proof something has gone wrong yet. Please remain calm, Zelaide,” Erica requested, trying her best to keep her own voice level. “I have unfortunately kept some information from you. It’s not something we should discuss over the IHT. Do you remember the door you used to come to City Hall last time? There is a small member’s only bar located in the basement of the building right beside it. Can you come right away? I will tell you there.”
Zelaide bolted from the room without answering.