Chapter 72

MAIN.20 Neither Kumokawa nor Oumi really wanted to dive headfirst into a sea of blood. Regarding the helmeted man, Kumokawa had this to say. “Kagun Kihara.” His name. “A man thought to be deeply involved with the death of a minor at an elementary school in Academy City. I must track him down. I’m very particular about my pride, but I’d gladly destroy it if it meant catching him.” On the other hand, they were well aware that the situation in Baggage City was not normal. They knew how risky it would be just to stay in one place for too long. Kumokawa was after Kagun Kihara. Oumi was after information on supernatural abilities. Neither of their objectives had to be accomplished in Baggage City. Whatever the Kiharas or Gremlin were doing, once the fighting was over, they’d have a chance to leave. They could wait for the calm after the conflict, then start undercover investigating again. They could still achieve their goals that way. So the two had made the decision to escape Baggage City for now, get somewhere safe, then start from square one, beginning with building a new information network. However… Sometimes, pure beginner’s luck led amateurs to the truth. Even if they didn’t want it to. It would make Oumi and Kumokawa tragic witnesses—like those who would be drowned at sea or buried in the mountains. “……” Neither of them had been trying to get to the truth of the matter. They’d been trying to get out of Baggage City as fast as they could. They’d already dropped out of the running. They knew that was the wise decision. And yet on the particular escape route they’d happened to choose was Marianne Sringeneier’s room, whose door was slightly ajar and whose magical barrier was still down. And so they’d arrived at the truth. Despite it sealing their fates. And… They’d run down the labyrinthine maintenance passages for the water-heating pipes and had reached the waste treatment plant at their core, then somehow ended up walking through it until they’d come to this one room. They hadn’t intended to peer past the slightly opened door. “…But I have to wonder. Why now?” They’d simply overheard a voice. And then from the gap in the door they should not have looked past, darkness erupted. …I don’t know about that maid, but I think the other one’s a Natural Selector contestant. I haven’t been going out of my way to kill anyone from Baggage City, but that information about Sigyn is extremely important. Which is what makes this so unfortunate. Marianne, surrounded by psychedelic skin-colored furniture, took her golden saw in hand, smiled thinly, then addressed them. “You know, I’ve been wanting a footrest for this chair and a tiny fridge for my drinks. I’ll let you decide between yourselves who will be which.” Hell had broken loose. Kumokawa and Oumi certainly didn’t opt to fight. Immediately, they turned right around and ran away as fast as they could. They dashed through the waste treatment plant, down the maintenance passage from which they’d come. It wasn’t a particularly good option—just encountering something like that meant this was the worst possible scenario. “Wh-what? What the…? What the hell was that?! Some kind of cyborg?!” Despite being accustomed to supernatural powers, even Kumokawa was panicking after what they’d just seen. Oumi, however, seemed used to corpses created through normal means. “There’s a tactic where one side will purposely destroy someone physically but keep them alive, then discard them. This strikes fear into the enemy and costs them a fortune to fix. Like spreading mines that will only blow off one of your legs. That had to be what we just saw! That woman’s just coming at it from a different angle by modifying their corpses!” “Are you sure it’s that digital?! You saw it on her face! She thinks of it as a hobby! As entertainment!” It was so far beyond. This was so much more than just a grotesque mental image. They had no idea what on earth one would need to do in order to convert a person with all their limbs attached into a living table, but they doubted they could fight someone with free control over such technology. Perhaps they could win, but there was no telling what would happen to their bodies in the process. They could end up with a drill for a right hand or jet boosters on the soles of their feet. “No, no. Didn’t I just mention it? You heard about Sigyn—our ace in the hole. My only choice is to silence you!” Shkreeee! A shrill, metallic noise went off. Kumokawa looked behind her as she ran and saw the girl chasing them, pressing a bladed object to the wall of the passage. About fifty meters separated them. That would have been close enough to threaten them with a gun or something, but she was carrying golden tools—a hammer and a saw. “Isn’t our way out blocked by the tank and the building that collapsed?!” “That’s actually our chance. If we can slip through the rubble, then bury her, we can slow her down. We’ll need to get aboveground—and it’s still below zero out there—but it’s better than trying to confront her in a fair fight.” They had a finish line. They had distance between them and the opponent. This battle wasn’t unwinnable. …We can manage this! We can shake her— Just as Kumokawa felt a tiny bit of relief, it happened. Boom! The wall directly to their side suddenly swelled toward Kumokawa, as though trying to squish her. “Wha—?” Had a partition wall triggered? It reminded her of the trap in ancient ruins in action movies, but that wasn’t the right answer. “A…person?!” shouted Oumi. With the same texture as the wall, the same colors as the wall, the same sheen as the wall—a modified “human.” Who or what it used to be was unknown. But this human, modified into the shape of a rectangular pillar, had just launched itself at Kumokawa’s flank. “Ngh!” She quickly twisted, lightly touching her right arm to the pillar’s side as she whirled around and completely avoided the car crash–level impact. That wasn’t the core of the issue, though. Because they kept coming—horizontally and vertically. Another squarish pillar shot up from the bottom of the passage to block it. In a matter of seconds, the floor and walls were completely covered in obstacles of the same color. Their escape route had been cut off. “It’s really hard to keep them alive in that state, you know. I mean, look how square they are,” said the dark-skinned girl with a grin. “I keep them here and there, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. But since it would be a waste otherwise, I’m having their sensory organs act as sensors for me…not that it seems to be working that well—the Kihara wheelchair lady snuck past them earlier. They should still be seeing and hearing, so it must be that their egos, responsible for processing information, are refusing to see themselves as they currently are.” Then this wasn’t all. And she wasn’t tampering with them because she had to. It was simple. She used her environment… …to hold on to a set amount of victims, preserving them, treating them like dried bread and instant noodles kept around for emergencies—the kind that eventually hit their expiration dates without ever being used. “…These people can still…see and hear?” “If you want to get out of here, you can just destroy the obstacles, though you’d be slicing living people’s bodies in half, of course. It might be just a bit difficult—enough to chip a supermarket cooking knife or two, I’d guess. Mostly because of the bones. You’d be better off shattering the bones with a blunt instrument first, but then your blade won’t be as sharp because of all the slick grease.” Chilling words. They seemed to cut straight to what it meant to live—and what it meant to die. And this girl who violated those concepts the most did so with an air of nonchalance. It was a proposition that nobody ever took note of, but once one did, it would weigh on their mind something awful. Was it right to destroy these rectangular, pillar-like obstacles to save themselves? Was it right to perceive them as fellow humans and save them instead of finishing them off? Was what seemed to be wrong actually right? Was what seemed to be wrong actually wrong? “…What should we do?” Kumokawa asked Oumi. “Take down the hostile and secure an escape route,” she replied, “loathe though I am to try.” As she saw the two of them make up their minds, the dark-skinned girl—Marianne Sringeneier—twirled her saw around and smiled thinly. “Your answer is to postpone the choice, then? I guess that’s the model answer. That’s just how humans approach their own lifespans, after all. “However,” she added. “If your thinking patterns are that plain and boring…you’ll never reach those of us in Gremlin.” Marianne ran. Straight ahead. No feints. As if aiming for the first thing she’d set eyes upon, she fixed her gaze on Oumi and dashed toward her. It seemed a relatively defenseless act, considering both of the girls were skilled in close combat, but the issue was her golden hammer and saw. Oumi took out her garden spade kunai. “It’s too slow!” exclaimed Kumokawa, sticking out her leg toward her. Instead of attacking Marianne, she kicked Oumi as hard as she could. The golden weapons sheared through empty space. Kumokawa moved herself around Marianne, keeping her distance, then called out to Oumi, who was now on the floor. “Never rush an esper without knowing the conditions for their power! Don’t let it come to blows! Even if you can land an effective strike, if she hits you back, you’ll be a human table!” “Wait, you figured out my special trait already? …You’re used to it, aren’t you? The strange, the incomprehensible. Are you from Academy City? Because if you are, then I definitely can’t let you escape.” Swish, swish. As she twirled her saw around, she smiled, without turning around to look at Kumokawa. “My goal’s not to slash you with the saw or hit you with the hammer. My tools are just the optimal forms for conveying my intent to modify things. They’re just the seven I scraped together—one for each necessary operation. As soon as the gold touches you, your body will have already been modified.” “Nanodevices that go into the skin? …No. Do they take advantage of cell osmotic pressure to conduct a chain modification on single cells? That would let it get deep inside with just an external touch. That’s a high-tech healing device.” “You’re way off the mark, bitch. These things aren’t made for human bodies. I’m just using their functions to mess around with them. But I guess you’re right about the results if not the process. That counts for something, right?” One hit, and one wouldn’t just lose one of their limbs—or head. In the worst case, they’d run the risk of suddenly turning into a chair or a table. …If I land a grab or a throw, I could end things with a single counterattack. Which means I’ll have to rely on physical strikes! “That’s a half-hearted plan.” But Marianne saw right through her. “If you want to escape my tools, then it’s best to just get away from them. But are you sure you can take me out in one hit while maintaining your distance? That strategy relies on counters or accumulated damage, doesn’t it? Of course, I guess it’s different if you’re gonna pull out bigger techniques like high kicks, but… Well, you know what I’m going to say.” In a fight without rules, high kicks aimed for the head always ran the risk of getting one’s leg grabbed and the rest of them slammed on the floor. And even if it worked, they’d be supporting themself with one leg—if they wanted to reach for it with that kick, they’d have to pause their fast footwork. In other words, one ran an increased risk of an easy counterattack. “Ultimately, if you only ever discard safe cards, you’ll just drive yourself into a corner slowly but surely.” Marianne abruptly stopped twirling her saw, then pointed it at Kumokawa’s face. She licked her little lips. “Like I said, this isn’t a matter of actual combat strength. You don’t think uniquely enough to reach Gremlin.” A moment later, the situation progressed dramatically. Whoom! Marianne and Kumokawa both charged each other at the same time. “Eh?” grunted the dark-skinned girl as she plowed forward, a little confused. Kumokawa, meanwhile, went toward the floor as though jumping into a pool, then used her hands to walk on it instead. “This is just a chess problem.” Whirl! Kumokawa, currently upside down, bent and twisted around. “Getting farther away from your opponent’s pieces doesn’t make you safe. The trick is to move into squares those pieces can’t!” The golden saw passed Kumokawa’s leg by mere millimeters as she shot her heel up at Marianne’s jaw. A dull sound rang out. The golden saw and hammer swung around, trying to hit her leg, but it was already somewhere else. The weapons swished through empty air. “Ngh!” “Your vision’s blurry; your brain is rattled. How are you still following?!” Kumokawa, still in her handstand position, had her legs folded up like a spring, coiling to charge up power. Marianne desperately swung her upper body to the side, hearing her spine crack in the process. Another one—at my jaw— “Think so? Then this is gonna inflate my ego!” Whirl! Kumokawa spun, still upside down. She lashed out with her legs, coiling them around Marianne’s right leg. It was beyond any possibility she’d considered. The golden tools. If Kumokawa had been afraid of them, this attack wouldn’t have been possible. It wasn’t a strike at all. It was a joint lock. Kumokawa hadn’t tried to slam Marianne into the floor—instead, she left the sorcerer standing, putting all her energy into breaking her right leg. A dull sound rang out, rattling the dark-skinned girl’s insides, right to her brain. But before the bones could completely shatter, Marianne swung down her golden hammer. Kumokawa didn’t cling; she removed her legs, then evaded by rolling directly backward. As Marianne tried to pursue, however, her right leg acted up. She lost her balance and had to put a hand on the wall. “I might not have gotten your bone,” said Kumokawa, doing a breakdance-like maneuver to get herself back to her feet and wiping the nervous sweat from her brow. “But I think I did good damage to your tendon.” “You… You unclassified, with just two arms and two legs…!” “I guess four strike points must not be enough for a decisive blow,” said Kumokawa, folding in her outstretched arms. It made her look like she was defending herself, but she wasn’t. She was preparing for an elbow attack. “Then I’ll add my right elbow, left elbow, right knee, and left knee—that’s four extra points—for an eight-point strike!” “Ngh!!!!!” “Oh? Figured out how much that expands my tactical options, did you?” Boom! Kicking off the floor, Kumokawa charged at Marianne using the shortest route, attacking her with an irregular eight-point strike, one could only be executed via highly irregular martial arts. The dark-skinned girl didn’t know her way around a close quarters fight as well as the other members of Gremlin. Plus, the pain in her tendon was stopping her from dodging the way she wanted. However… “Sure, I can’t do much without the raw materials…” Marianne swung her golden saw—but not at Kumokawa. She swung it at the floor, and the wall, and the ceiling. She whirled it around in a big circle, damaging everything it hit. “…but why didn’t you assume I had other humans in stock?” They writhed. The humans she’d ordered to stand by in the form of construction materials all began to spew yellowish grease everywhere. It was a directed stream, like a high-pressure water cannon, firing nuts and bolts like cannonballs. With her right fist, left elbow, and right knee, Kumokawa batted them away. Then she dodged the golden hammer with her upper body—it had come flying at her in the chaos—before diving for Marianne. She leaned her head way back… “And a ninth!” …before she swung her forehead down, trying to knock out the dark-skinned girl. Unfortunately, Marianne simply shifted her head slightly to the side. Whoom! Another bolt, this one coming from directly behind Marianne’s head, shot forward. It struck Kumokawa right in the forehead, causing her to reel backward and fall to the floor. She showed no signs of getting up after that; it seemed like she had a concussion. “And that’s that.” Marianne cracked her neck from side to side. The saw that was in her hand had disappeared. The reason was simple—she’d thrown it straight backward. She’d converted the shape of one of the “obstacles” blocking the passage and had used it to attack Kumokawa. The dark-skinned girl walked ahead, covering her right leg. Keeping Shuri Oumi in sight—the girl had fallen to her knees, unable to keep up with the battle—she retrieved the saw and hammer she’d thrown. In the process, she took out her smartphone and dialed Sigyn’s number. She scowled at the pain in her leg while listening to it ring. “…Damn it. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed it. I thought that girl was a regular civilian, but I should have given her more credit. Come on, Sigyn—shit! Pick up already. It’s gonna be a real pain in my ass trying to beat these Kiharas without your advice.” But she waited and waited, and Sigyn never picked up. And that was when Marianne noticed something. Oumi, who was still on the floor, was muttering something to herself. At first, Marianne thought she’d gone crazy. But that wasn’t the case. “…Mari… Get…” Her mutterings had a clear regularity to them. “…Get out of there. Just run away for now. We don’t know for sure that these two were working alone. If they have more coming, your right leg will be a major weakness. Get away from there for now; then tape up your leg to help it first…” Her voiceprint was different. But the way she emphasized certain syllables, the rise and fall of her voice, the timing of her breaths…and most importantly the words she spoke clued Marianne in. “Si… Sigyn? What? How are you imitating…?” Oumi had definitely heard her phone conversation earlier. But that wasn’t nearly enough to allow for such a precise impression. She might scratch the surface, but she’d never get down to the essence like this. Which meant… …that the Sigyn on the phone before was… No, Sigyn was in a different place as this girl when she overheard. That means… “…Sigyn’s fear was…an act? You or your allies have already captured Sigyn!” said Marianne, closely examining the possibilities in her head. “And then you held a blade to her throat, or made her wear some kind of device that would strangle her when it receives a wireless signal, and made her talk to me? How much of our affairs would you have us tell…tell…?!” Part of the way through the sentence, she bit her tongue. She couldn’t form words properly anymore. “Mmf…?! …Ngh!” “Your supernatural power is such a disappointment. I doubt the Koga would have any use for it.” As she spoke, Oumi took a small item out of her pocket and threw it. It hit the wall with a squelch and stuck there. It looked like a disposable pack of tissues. It took too long for Marianne to finally realize what it was. “…Alcohol…?” “About seventy percent ABV. The properties of ethanol can change drastically depending on the distilling method. This one’s basically kryptonite against people who can’t hold their liquor. A full glass of this could drop an elephant to its knees. It was originally a ninja tool for throwing off scent-tracking hounds.” “Ngh!” Her head spinning, Marianne still swung her golden saw at a nearby wall in order to remake the person who had been fused with it into a spear to hurl at Oumi. But it didn’t activate. She hadn’t failed to modify the person—the spear that was supposed to have been modified hadn’t listened to her command. “You’re an added bonus,” said Oumi smoothly, taking out her garden spade kunai. “The reason I used alcohol was to get all the ‘raw materials’ in the area drunk at once. That’s their weakness, isn’t it? You modify people but keep them alive, which means your weapons are embedded with human thought processes. Get them drunk, and they won’t change shape the way you want them to, and they won’t listen to orders. It was Sigyn who told me that.” “Rgh!” Marianne immediately made up her mind. She whirled around and began to run away without hesitation. From someone she’d taken for a mere civilian. From someone she’d considered beneath her. As she ran, clutching her pained right leg, cold words stabbed into her from behind. “Show me more. Show me the kind of supernatural power worth absorbing into the Koga.” The words of a ninja who had survived to modern times. Of Shuri Oumi, the one who served as the initial actor with her conspicuous deeds. “If you can’t…then I’ll just decide you’ve served your purpose.” Zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh-zhh!!!!!! Oumi closed in on Marianne Sringeneier.