Murakami was rattling on about baseless things unbefitting of a scientist again. Zelaide didn’t comprehend most of what came out of his mouth, but he did sniff out the one word that meant something to him.
“Go get her…? Explain.”
“I’m saying you should go pick up your princess once you don’t look like the walking dead. If you go the way you are now, she will surely be in tears. Do you want that?”
“……”
I don’t want that.
“See? We’ve reached an understanding then,” Murakami continued in a quiet voice, taking Zelaide’s silence and lack of expression as obedience. “This is my request packaged as an order. At least stay in my care until we plug up the holes in you. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re nice and pretty and in her arms soon enough.”
Murakami raised his hand, signaling the rescue team. They gathered around Zelaide, removed his bloodstained clothes, and began spraying him with antimicrobial wound cleanser. This was Zelaide’s first time being touched by so many humans. He was more comfortable fighting them than being cleaned by them, but he put up with the discomfort.
As expected, his whole upper body was maimed. His shoulder was in particularly bad shape after taking a direct hit from the Bijour’s claws. Numerous cuts across his skin revealed the muscle and tendons beneath. Blood was still seeping down his arm, but he could see it hardening to clot the wounds. Another inherent benefit of being a Beast Blood: they were very hard to put down in any permanent fashion without a deathblow being delivered. Zelaide grimaced more from the tantalizing smell of blood than the pain or sting of the antiseptics.
“Good boy. I know this isn’t what you want, but put up with it until tomorrow. Uhehehe. I can’t wait. I get to closely examine these muscles,” Murakami said, watching them wipe the blood off Zelaide’s corded muscles.
“…Until tomorrow?”
“Yep, that’s right. You’ll be in the intensive care unit I prepared for the rest of the day. Rest assured. I don’t look it, but I’m a doctor. Really. I have a medical license too. You and I will have a little chat while you’re in there. You don’t think I’m trustworthy? Aw, of course I’m not. But you just have to believe me anyway. You’ve got no other choice. After that, you’ll be temporarily set free.” Murakami blathered on with a smile that made his round face look rounder.
“…One day only,” Zelaide dourly acceded.
The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up. Feeling a gaze pricking his back, Zelaide hastily spun around. His instincts screamed that the weight of this gaze didn’t belong to any human. But all he saw was the rescue team and clean-up crew busily going about their work. Some were washing the floors, others were hauling away the Bijour corpses with a forklift, and there was even someone filming what was going on. Everyone was either dressed in blue work uniforms or lab coats, and they were all ordinary humans. The Bijours’ eyes were wide open since they didn’t have eyelids, but they were definitely dead.
So…what’s this feeling? Something’s not right…
Washed and disinfected, Zelaide bent down per the medic’s insistence. The medic hung a towel over his shoulders. Then they asked him to follow them. They were going to take him to the hospital located within Biotech. Shaking his head at the medic’s recommendation to ride in the hover cart, he walked alongside it instead, paying close attention to his surroundings. Murakami leisurely strolled behind him.
“Oh! Preserve the most intact Bijour as a research specimen. The other two are to be stuffed. Make sure you carefully preserve their innards. Please put the pieces back together as best you can. These Muta are expensive. Selling them might pay for the damages. Ah! Give me a scale. I want to use it on my keychain…”
“President Murakami.”
“Hm? Ooh, hi Kreutz. You came too, huh? Did you watch the surveillance footage? Wasn’t that a pretty epic fight?”
A man Zelaide recognized had called out to Murakami from behind. He was Euphemia’s direct superior Kreutz Burhardt. A shadow fell over his high-strung face when his eyes sized up Zelaide.
“I saw. You’re the Beast Blood hired to be Euphemia’s bodyguard, correct? What in the colonies happened to Mia? I haven’t heard anything from her after receiving the official time-off request form.”
“Ooh, her. Her older sister contacted me to say she will be taking custody of her for a while,” Murakami answered in Zelaide’s place.
Burhardt eyed his direct superior with suspicion. “Mayor Saionji contacted you? What happened?”
“Oh right, you backed her research, didn’t you? You’re such a good boss, meeting the demands of a young researcher hot off the press. But it seems she needs to take a break. I bet she angered her sister, which put this fella here out of a job. So I borrowed him today. Trust in me will plummet if it got out that Bijours escaped. I hope this gives me a small chance of keeping my job,” Murakami blabbed on as they walked.
Burhardt nodded along, his eyes fastened securely on Zelaide the whole way.
“Anyway, Kreutz, you won’t have her for a while. I know it will be hard with how busy you are, but I don’t have any spare researchers to send to your department right now.”
“……”
Murakami ignored Burhardt’s chilling eyes and started talking to Zelaide next. “With that said, don’t you rush out of here, either. Absolutely do not move until I say so. It’s not too far to the on-site hospital, but are you okay walking? Whoa! Would you look at that?! You’ve already stopped bleeding! Beast Bloods are awesome! You know, I’ve always thought that you guys are the next stage in evolution for humanity. And if you are…uhehehe…this could make for a good thesis… I might get even more famous…!”
“Yeah, yeah. You will. Now will ya shut up for a bit?” The exhausted Beast Blood’s tired, aching shoulders drooped.