†††
RAIN pelts the ground just before daybreak, cleansing the world at its darkest every single day. The flow of water blesses the earth with moisture and washes away any traces of the bloody hunts left by the beasts prowling the forests in the dead of night.
For humans, the rainfall becomes a silver curtain, concealing a criminal’s hidden crimes, an infant’s peaceful sleep, and a couple’s romantic tryst. And then, with the dawn’s light, the rains retreat. Such is the unbroken cycle, the never-changing promise between the heavens and the earth.
This is exactly why this world’s dawn is so incredibly beautiful—no matter what atrocities and absurdities will smear the day ahead.
✦ ✦ ✦
†††
I want to see her. I need to see her.
Zelaide knew that nothing would change even if he saw her. They were better off never meeting again. He understood that so well it ate away at him.
Even so, his desire to be in her presence again was greater than any siren’s call.
Since thinking about her put him on the verge of going on a rampage, he had to push those thoughts to the back of his mind.
His car raced down the freeway, slipping between traffic with the skill of a professional racecar driver.
Rain pounded the Wilds as soon as the clouds rolled in. The heaviest downpour came at the start, pouring in sheets onto the ground dyed in impregnable darkness. It always ceased just before daybreak, and the ground dried back up by the afternoon. Until then, the whole planet was covered in a soaked veil of inky blackness. Rainclouds only circled the planet in the hours between night and morning. This was the one unbroken cycle on this ever-changing frontier.
In the distance, Zelaide could see Forzarin Gate, the symbol of Gothic City. Although it was hazy in the rain, Gothic City looked like a white sphere piercing the dark sky. The landscape was completely devoid of color.
Forzarin Gate was a barrier that allowed only registered vehicles into the city.
Passing through the many layers of defenses effortlessly, the automated system took over the car after he input his final destination. Zelaide watched his vehicle drive onto the Circle Line that surrounded the city in a massive ring, his thoughts drifting toward his wounds and the person he missed most.
✦ ✦ ✦
†††
THE lacerations on his shoulder, sides, and fingers hadn’t healed yet, but the skin had sealed over enough to leave off the bandages.
Murakami had stitched up the gaping holes in his flesh, applied medicine to the smaller cuts, and then showed him to his car and told him to go home.
“The allegations against you have been dropped. I’m not crass, so I won’t ask why you leaked your semen in the breeding room. But be aware that someone collected that and used it against you. Someone who works in Biotech,” Murakami warned.
“I know. Who is it?” Zelaide asked in a low growl.
Murakami chuckled. “Can’t tell you that yet. They’re a sly little fox, so I don’t have any definite proof. It’s a confidential investigation that’s currently underway, but I’m practically the only detective on the case, you know? It’s a pity I haven’t made much progress.”
“……”
“In other words, I don’t trust anyone other than myself. Especially at Biotech. I mean, this institute is amazing. Too amazing.” Murakami pointed to the vast property visible through the parking garage window.
“A vast collection of scientific knowledge has been amassed within these walls. Including knowledge inherited from the old world. This place may be called Municipal Biotechnology Research Institute, but biotechnology only counts for a small portion of what we do here,” Murakami continued to explain.
“Not even I know the intimate details of all the research that goes on within these grounds. Many projects are astronomically outside my field of expertise. Of course, our operating capital comes from the cities, but that’s not our only source of income. We also accept requests from various companies and individuals in return for funding. So, it’s a fact that Biotech is also where the hopes and desires of this world are concentrated.”
“You manage the whole place by yourself?”
“Officially? Yes. But I don’t intervene in everything. I wouldn’t last a day if I put my fingers in every cookie jar. I only actively carry out the instructions I receive from the person who owns me.”
“And that’s someone I know.” Zelaide cracked a slight smile. It was rare for him to smile at all.
Murakami coolly dismissed it. “I don’t disclose sensitive information.”
“Is she your mate?” Zelaide asked.
“Don’t be absurd. There’s nothing like that between us. I just want to be of use to her. I seek no repayment in return.” Murakami’s small round eyes winked as he repeated, “No physical payment that is.”
His wink was met with silence.
“That’s why I’m going about it carefully instead of going off my first guess like I prefer to do. After all, I won’t be of use to that person if I just catch it by the tip and the lizard decides to cut off its tail.”
“You can’t just try your luck with your first guess?”
“Nuh-uh. No way. Being just a little off and catching someone lower on the rung will make everything fall apart. The true enemy on top will become even harder to catch.”
“But then you’ll know the guy who ran is the enemy leader, right?” Zelaide asked.
“All that will net us is the leader’s name. That doesn’t do us any good. There might be an even bigger fish behind him too. It won’t hurt the mastermind to feign innocence if we put the blame on his underlings. And then the threat to the city will be even worse. It’s still too soon to make a move.”
“……”
“You look dissatisfied,” Murakami observed.
“Obviously,” Zelaide huffed.
“Okay, just so you know, while charging in guns blazing looks cool and works great against Bijours, your opponent is a bigwig with a very high social standing. Their influence likely reaches beyond Gothic City. Not someone I can easily do anything to. But odds are high that they will give themselves away soon. Once they find out you’ve been acquitted, they’re going to fly into a rage. Your freedom is going to throw a wrench into their carefully weaved plot and shatter their tightly wound pride.”
“Am I being acquitted for exterminating the Bijours?” Zelaide asked.
“Nope. Taking out the Bijours is an extra treat to silence those who aren’t too happy about you getting released and want to complain about it. Well, not that it will shut up the gripers entirely, but that works just as well for us. Mayor Saionji’s enemies just might expose themselves depending on how the cards fall. But the reason for your acquittal is that semen.” Murakami squeezed one round eye in a painful wink and pointed at Zelaide’s crotch.
Obviously Zelaide scowled.
So it is my fault that Manuela died. I gave the enemy reason to kill her. Murakami said he covertly sent her son to Ajanta City to keep him safe. I’m worried about him, but it’ll only make things worse if I get involved.
“That being said, the semen collected from the victim and submitted as evidence undeniably belongs to you. There was too little to have come from sexual intercourse. It’s absolutely implausible for a huge Beast Blood man like you to ejaculate significantly less than the adult human male’s average amount,” Murakami said with a straight face.
“And I can prove you aren’t a special case in that regard because I have examined every inch of your body. That will be evidence in your favor. With that evidence, we can argue that someone collected your semen and injected it into the victim and scattered it around the room,” Murakami finished.
“Collected it… It was the peeping creep who was watching us…” Zelaide snarled.
“That would be him. The amount coincides with what would be left behind if your story about masturbating in the breeding room and cleaning up with paper towels is true. You can’t get much after it seeped into the paper and dried…and that’s all that they were able to collect from the victim.”
“Ah, I remember it being a soft and thick paper…” Zelaide muttered uncomfortably, accepting Murakami’s theory.
“Of course we only have the best! They’re disposable towels meant to be used in experiments. They soak up most liquids. What’s a little extra sticky liquid to our laboratory grade cleaning rags!”
“……”
“Yeah, well that’s something all right, masturbating in a rodent breeding room. Was it thrilling showing off to the rodents?”
“Shut up. You know why I did it.”
“Can’t say. But you sure know restraint. I was able to determine that you are still a young Beast Blood somewhere in your thirties from examining your teeth. That’s the age when humans are finally settling into adulthood… Also known as when they want to reproduce the most,” Murakami said suggestively.
“I hate women.”
Except for one. But I’m not tryin’ to have sex with her either. I just can’t keep my eyes off her…and sometimes I feel irresistible urges…
“But…am I really that young?” Zelaide asked, changing the topic. It was odd to be called young at thirty.
“You would never hear a human ask that. But I guess it makes sense when you don’t know much about your species. To be honest, I don’t know much about you guys either, but I brushed up by reading the findings of a certain scientist. Have you heard of Maurice DeLay? His primary field is Night Bloom research.”
“Like I’d know ’im. I don’t read… Wait, didn’t you say you’re a primate researcher at the station?”
“That was obviously a bluff. The ends justify the means, as they say. Didn’t you know that? Though it’s a fact that I have extensive knowledge about most living creatures.”
Zelaide was exasperated by Murakami’s shameless confession.
“In any event, you should learn a bit more about yourself. His name is Maurice DeLay. Read his paper,” Murakami advised.
“Don’t read.”
“That’s unfortunate. He lives in Romanesque City and has done a lot of research that could help you. Speaking of Maurice, he hasn’t done much lately. I wonder what happened.”
“How should I know? Okay, I’m leavin’. Thanks for your help. I might contact you again.”
Zelaide hopped into his car before Murakami could launch into another longwinded conversation.
Zelaide’s car smoothly accelerated as he stepped on the accelerator. The early dawn freeway made for a pleasant drive. But Zelaide had nowhere to go. He did have a temporary residence though.
What is Euphemia doing? Is she sleeping peacefully under her sister’s protection?
I want to see her. See her and peer into those mysterious emerald eyes. I’ll gaze into them and then…
And then?
Stupid brute. I won’t even get to see her.
The sun broke the horizon, shining white into the depths of night.