Nanami was trying to be considerate toward someone who had no knowledge of sorcery. Gojo silently applauded Nanami for paying attention to such details based on his experience as a regular member of society.
“Doll? But look how real it is!” the mother cried out.
“It is astonishingly well-made. A normal person wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between that and a real baby.”
“But this baby is real!” she insisted.
“You made the transaction, so you know better than anyone that it isn’t,” Nanami said. “Not many sorcerers could make a cursed doll that is so lifelike. I’m just speculating, but I bet you had to pay with something other than money.”
“Ulp …”
The baby in her arms was indeed well crafted. It wiggled its arms and legs as its pink cheeks trembled. It was a textbook example of all the traits that would awaken motherly instincts. But that was merely how it appeared to most people.
To a sorcerer’s eyes, it was hideous.
“By any chance …” Nanami began.
Gojo cut him off. “I bet you had to fork over the corpse of the brat you wanted to revive.”
“Gojo!”
“The business only works with babies because people have a hard time hefting adult bodies,” Gojo said.
Nanami had planned to choose his words more circumspectly, so Gojo’s bluntness was disappointing.
Judging from the mother’s shock, however, Gojo had guessed correctly. The cursed corpse looked like it had in life because it consisted of real remains.
Someone who understood sorcery would know that such dolls were a perversion and an insult to sorcery, one that would have a corrupting influence on humans. However, the human semblance was enough to deceive the average person with the sentimental nightmare of reviving the dead.
Awaking from that nightmare required the truth, which Gojo dumped over her like freezing water. It would have been nice to think Gojo had deliberately volunteered to take on that task in order to spare Nanami, but Nanami knew how unlikely it was that Gojo would actually show such consideration.
Gojo continued. “It looks alive, but actually it’s nothing but a pet robot, moving according to a program.”
“You’re lying!” cried the mother. “I heard about it! I heard that Natsuki could be brought back, and I paid the money!”
“As his mom, you should be able to tell from his little habits and facial expressions. That baby doesn’t give a sense of having a living soul,” said Nanami.
“Ah …” The mother faltered.
“Besides …”
Through his sunglasses, Nanami looked at the boy called Akito. He appeared to be about five or six and was clutching his mother’s legs. He was worried, but he looked up at his mother’s face with an expression of determination.
“Your son, at least, has noticed that something dark is trying to steal his mother.”
“You don’t understand …”
“Each person has their own form of truth. If the truth you want to choose is a present moment in which you haven’t lost a child, I have no right to object to that.” Nanami pushed up his sunglasses and waited a moment.
There were times when children exhibited a stronger will than adults expected from them. Akito knew he needed to do something to save his mother. Nanami admired that, even if it hurt him to see a small child having to face such a harsh reality.
So, with a quiet prayer, Nanami made his point. “The fact of the matter is that you’re turning away from a present moment in which your living child is worried about you.”
“Oh!”
In her heart, the mother understood. She understood that Nanami was correct and that she was avoiding reality. Nanami could see that, even if she didn’t come right out and say it.
She had regained what she had lost, only to lose it again. Nanami knew how cruel that was, but he had to present her options.
“Dispelling human attachment is harder than expelling curses.”
Gojo’s comment referred to the tears and sobs that resulted from their confiscation of the cursed corpse.
From underground they couldn’t see it, but the sun must have sunk toward the horizon. If they had used force, the wound in the woman’s heart might have never healed, so their only choice had been to wait until she was ready to relinquish the doll herself.
Gojo had balked when Nanami told him he could at least carry something if he wasn’t going to do any other work, but then he took the bag from Nanami. Inside was the cursed corpse they had taken from the mother.
“Nanami, this bag is too heavy,” Gojo complained.
“Well, we can’t just toss it. Besides, that doll is an important lead. If we compare the cursed energy in it to residuals, however faint, they’ll point us in the general direction.”
“I guess so. It seems the curse user who sold this thing intended to hide all traces, but yeah, it’s fake. He’s really careless.”
As expected, they found the curse user’s hideout easily.
It was in a very old part of the underground city. They had turned down a path branching away from the open area of the street and leading to the basement floor of a building, then zigzagged in a complicated way behind some stairs.
They found themselves in a space that might once have been an illegitimate drinking establishment. Such a poor location wasn’t suited to a legitimate business but would have been perfect for something dodgy. It was hidden from human eyes with a cursed technique that used the same principle as a curtain. Nanami and Gojo had followed the residuals, and the traces were as easily detected as an unbroken trail of footsteps.