Baccano! - Volume 13 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue 2

The Mask Makers

On the ocean On the Mask Makers’ cruiser

“Now, then. It’s about time we continued the interrogation.”

Life shrank away in fright from Luchino’s icy stare.

“That said… You don’t need to tell me anything. After all, there’s nothing in particular I want to ask. If I must spell it out for you, then let me hear you scream, if you would.”

Luchino’s face was perfectly blank—as blank as a mask.

“Please don’t hold back—if it proves irritating, I can simply crush your throat.”

“Ghk…” His hands cuffed, Life groaned and glared at the boy—until those groans morphed into loud, maniacal laughter. “Ghk…kh-kh…! Gwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha… Gwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

“…What’s so funny?”

Rookie was frowning, and Life smirked back.

“Well, well!” he crowed with exhilaration. “You haven’t changed a bit, President! Of all us Mask Makers, your mask is the most fragile of all, and yet it’s the thickest, too. Even now, you’re playing the heartless president!”

“…”

“You want to throw up and break down sobbing right this moment, don’t you?! I’m impressed. And curious. You involved your personal vendetta in this job and got a bunch of your dear, dear subordinates killed for it—tell me, how does that make you feel?”

“…!”

Rookie kicked Life hard in the side to disguise how much the taunts were getting to him.

Life wheezed but still seemed to be enjoying himself—and then he said something that made no sense in the context of his predicament.

“Now then, I wish I had more time to appreciate your despair, but I’m detecting a hint of savagery in the smile of the large lady behind you, and so…

“…it’s time I took my leave.”

“…What?”

The handcuffed man had made a simple declaration.

Rookie wondered whether this was just more mockery and began to seriously consider killing him, but—

—suddenly, a huge impact rocked the boat.

“?!”

At the same time, he heard a sgrunk—

As he realized Life had dislocated his own joints and brought his hands around in front of him, the man launched himself off the floor and out the window.

“Wai—”

Before he could even finish the word, Life had leaped over the side of the ship and into the ocean.

Except Luchino didn’t hear the splash that would have indicated he’d hit the water.

“Wha…?”

When the boy left the room, he saw a large cruiser that had apparently collided with this boat a moment earlier, and Life, who’d jumped over onto it. And—

—a group of fanatics in red and black.

The man at their center had somehow lost both his arms; there was hardly any blood dripping from the wounds, but that only meant he was near death.

However, before Rookie had time to analyze the circumstances in detail, the large cruiser sped off through the waves at a pace far greater than the Mask Makers’ boat could manage.

Instantly understanding that they wouldn’t be able to catch up to them, the boy tore off the mask he’d put on his heart and hissed in genuine fury.

“Dammit… Goddamn it…!”

Just then—

“What happened?”

—a voice spoke behind him. When he turned around, he saw a beaming man.

Elmer C. Albatross.

For a moment, Rookie thought he was dreaming.

Of course he did. His biggest target had just waltzed onto their boat.

“You—… Wh-why?!”

“Well, I mean. You’re after us, and I thought you probably had business with me in particular. Plus, Denkurou was getting annoyed, and Nile was about to start shouting, so I made my escape. And here I am.” He nodded to himself, seemingly oblivious to everything around him: the tension, the blustering sea wind, and the fact that he was in his enemies’ midst. It was just how he was. “After all, I’ve technically been a Mask Maker for the past three hundred years. I have to help my president keep his pride!”

“…”

As Rookie gaped uselessly, the veteran and founding member of his organization grinned with perfect sincerity.

“So, come on and smile, President! You have to smile!”

Fanatical Believers

“…I’d like to ask you one thing.”

The man who would soon be dead spoke to Life after he’d jumped over onto the cruiser.

When the ships collided, Bride should have turned into hamburger—but he’d miraculously lost only his arms in the impact and not his life.

Although that life had nearly run out.

Since his arms had been crushed so quickly, he had lost less blood than one might expect, but it wouldn’t be possible to keep him alive much longer than this. Everyone was certain of that—but none of the surrounding believers shed so much as a tear.

It wasn’t that they held the leader in contempt. They simply saved their blind belief for their sacred book, not their leader. In addition—the pain of losing someone close to them was already gone from inside them. Their unchanging expressions made the whole situation eerie.

Even so, Life responded with indifference. “What might that be, honored leader?”

“Listen, Viralesque. Did you know…about that Mask Maker group? Did you use us as pawns?” His voice was so faint it was almost inaudible, and his face was so pale he could have passed on right then and there.

Life—the man he’d called Viralesque—removed his mask, accepted the red-and-black bandages the female secretary handed him, wound them around his face, and answered plainly.

“I did indeed. What of it?”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“It’s a long story, so to sum it up… It was for fun.”

The man had answered simply; he didn’t sound like Life or the demolition guy.

In response, the leader gave a rasping chuckle.

“I see. There’s no way around it then. I’ll forgive you.” His reply was far too brief. “Our doctrine does not condemn human desire. Not even if it destroys us.”

“You were a splendid leader, Master Bride.”

“That’s over now, too.” Murmuring with something like relief, Bride stood on the edge of the boat. Drops of blood fell from his arms into the water, disappearing one after another into the vast ocean. “I’ve given the entirety of the sacred text to my secretaries. Please give them to the next Bride.”

“Understood, Master Bride. However…if, hypothetically, I told you I had a drug that could save you from that state, what would you do?”

As Viralesque accepted his instructions respectfully, he asked a peculiar question.

Bride smiled at him. As the last of the glucose left his brain, he spoke his last words.

“At the arcade, it’s only polite to let the next person play after you’ve lost, unless it’s a shooting game.

“This is the same. A loss is a loss. I will do…the mature…thing, and…accept…the…death…I…fear—”

Smiling—the leader tipped over the edge and plunged headfirst toward the ocean.

The next instant—as if it had been waiting for him, the jaws of an enormous shark that had been attracted by the blood leaped out and snapped around Bride’s already lifeless body, then mercilessly chewed it to bits.

The surviving believers who’d seen it happen—men and women, old people and children—all made the sign in front of their chests and said the same words in unison.

“May he be granted a painless death.”

The Gunslinger, the Boys, and the Girl

Several days later New York Inside Alveare

“Man, that mess on the ship the other day was something else.”

“Firo’s family had a hell of a time.”

“Yes, and I hear they still haven’t caught the responsible parties. The passengers all seem confused, so it’s difficult to judge how reliable their testimonies are for an investigation.”

Randy and Pezzo were watching TV and offering live commentary, while Maiza was supplementing their conversation.

It was a perfectly ordinary scene—at first, until an unusual man opened the door and stepped inside.

He was wearing blue sunglasses, was dressed entirely in black, and was clearly on the wrong side of the law.

The Martillo executives instantly recognized that he was somebody who warranted attention.

However, because they didn’t know what he was after, they watched him and waited for him to make the first move…

“Uh… I have a question,” he said, approaching the bespectacled man after identifying him as the highest-ranking one there. “Firo Prochainezo sent me over. Would you be interested in hiring a bodyguard?”

At that, the mood in the restaurant changed dramatically—and not in the way the man had been expecting.

“Oh! Hey! So you’re Angelo!”

“Firo told us about you!”

“He says you’re a real whiz with a gun.”

“See, the higher-ups around here tend to use knives, so our boss was saying we could use a gunman like you from outside; he was looking forward to it!”

“…Keh-keh… Allow me to address you as ‘Sensei’ from this moment forward…keh-keh.”

“Palm’s being weird again.”

“Good grief. At any rate, Angelo, let’s hear the details.”

“…”

Angelo was briefly taken aback; they seemed nothing like an underworld organization, but…

I see. So this is the syndicate that raised a man like Firo.

It made sense to him, and he gave a wryly amused smile.

In the end, the South American cartel had been effectively destroyed, and he couldn’t return to his hometown until the investigation of the ship incident had reached a stopping point. In the meantime, Angelo needed to lie low somewhere. On Firo’s recommendation, he’d come to New York. It wasn’t what he was used to, yet it was somehow comfortable.

“Oh, and also…she isn’t my kid, but…I have the daughter of an acquaintance with me. I’m looking for a safe place for her to live…”

And then, a few days later…

“Hey, everybody! We have a present for the Martillos today!”

“It’s our answer to your declining birth rate!”

What Isaac and Miria said made very little sense, but it was difficult to argue that their contribution did not combat the decline in the Martillo Family’s number of children.

“W-we’re gonna sign on as Martillo Family subordinates, so count yourself lucky! You ain’t gotta worry anymore, uh, sir!” The boy had said something else that made very little sense.

After looking at him and the three boys behind him, who were sighing in resignation, the executives looked at one another.

Just then, the boy spotted the brown-skinned girl sitting in the restaurant, then flushed red and began volunteering information no one had asked him for.

“D-don’t go thinking I wanted to work here because of Carnea or anything!”

A moment later, the whole restaurant roared with laughter.

As Bobby tried to figure out what was so funny, the man standing in front of him said, “Ordinarily, I would say a child like you should be in school…but I don’t intend to stand in the way of true love.”

“Huh… A-aaah! Y-you! No, I mean, sir, um…”

“Well, never mind. We can’t let you join our younger ranks, but we’ll allow you to be their errand boys for now.”

“Wh-what, for real?! Yesssss! Now I’m a gangster, too!” he whooped. At this point in time, he sounded so childlike and innocent, no one even dreamed that he might go on to become a hero in the Martillo Family.

No one, not even gods or demons, knew whether such a thing would actually happen—the boy’s first step onto the path of wickedness was all the world knew for now.

Hollywood Star and Star Stuntman

Our story returns to the Entrance, directly following the incident.

“Illness was…kidnapped?”

“Yes… Um, from what I hear, several individuals in red and black forced their way into the infirmary…”

After she heard the report, Claudia’s expression had shifted to fury, and then to grief. A mere ten minutes later, she’d come to a decision, and she turned to Charon beside her.

“I’ve made up my mind! I’ll pool everything I’ve earned from all my movie appearances and send it to a detective agency!”

“…”

“They’re not getting away with this! She’s part of my world, and they barged in and stole her away. They don’t get to do that—ever! I have to rescue her, no matter what it costs me!”

“…”

Charon was silent, and there was no telling what was going on in his mind.

In the end, he made no attempt to object; wordlessly, he accepted his sister’s world.

And that world soon had a new arrival, when a woman who had been standing behind the siblings and listening to the conversation suddenly addressed them.

“Excuse me. Are you two looking for a detective agency?”

“Hmm? …Yes, but who are you, miss? You wouldn’t be a famous detective, would you?” Claudia asked dubiously.

The woman—Celice—smiled quietly. “No, my name is Lucotte, but…my friend Celice works for a very big detective agency. If money is no object, they’ll investigate anything for you.” She had overcome her pain and despair, and now she was jumping back into the world stronger than ever. “Besides…I have a score of my own to settle with that group in the red and black.”

Thanks to her newly forged Hollywood connection and the huge retainer fee from Claudia, Celice would later blast upward through the ranks of her company—but right now, with nothing but her hatred for SAMPLE, she gave her very best false smile.

“Thanks! You’re a good person, aren’t you?”

And so Claudia brought Celice into her world, too.

…The world had been hers from the moment she was born, and she believed in it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

She was convinced that her world could save Illness.

Pallor and Poison

And then—the girl who’d been accepted into another’s world opened her eyes.

Where am I? Ow.

Holding her wound, Illness gazed up at the ceiling. She tried to figure out where she was—and the next instant, her breath caught. She was lying on a bed, surrounded by a large group in red and black.

Terror joined her surprise, but—

—before the girl could scream, a sound reached her ears.

Clap Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap

It was the sound of mild applause.

“Congratulations…Mistress Bride.”

“…Huh?”

A man whose face was hidden by bandages stopped clapping and bowed his head reverently. Taking their cue from him, the surrounding red-clad group dropped to their knees as one.

The gestures reminded her of their “worship” toward her in the past. Fearing more pain, she shrank into herself, but—

“I am the observer, Viralesque. In my name, I appoint you as our new leader.”

Leader?

“As our new ‘Bride,’ you will succeed to a position of leadership. You have no right to refuse, but…”

Leader… That’s Father.

The girl was silent for a while. Then, without even knowing what she should ask, she absently started to speak. “I’m…allowed…to live?”

“But of course.”

“Leader” is what they called Father.

“I won’t…be tortured anymore?”

“Of course not. Illness…no, Mistress Bride, you will be freed from all pain forevermore.”

Her mind was hazy. She didn’t really understand what the man had said.

“Now then, as for the god who will be your eternal partner…we have already selected a candidate,” Viralesque said, gentle as an embrace and with a heart as hollow as the void. “You may live. No one will ever reject you again.”

With a smile, he poured poison into her ear—

—but the hospital where she was being treated, SAMPLE, had no intention of letting Illness check out yet.

The girl took the photograph of the boy they had chosen to be her husband—and cried out in spite of herself.

“Czes…”

The malice had no intention of releasing Czes, either.

Creeping inch by inch, slow and slick—

—the poison quietly turned the world to rot.