Baccano! - Volume 16 - Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Tick Jefferson innocently and noisily cuts up fruit

Snik snik snick-snick

Snip snik snip-snip

With those sounds in his ears, Mark was looking at the ground.

This underground room was the office of the Gandor Family. They’d brought him grape juice, but he hadn’t touched it. He simply stayed silent, his face pale.

The jazz hall on the floor above was named Coraggioso, a word that meant “brave” in Italian. Fittingly, the boy had taken a courageous leap into the unknown.

…And now he was frozen, unable to do a thing.

The air around him was thick with cigarette smoke, and the jazz music from the next floor up added an air of sophistication to his surroundings.

It was clearly no place for a boy like Mark.

Several men were hanging out in the room, entertaining themselves with poker and similar games at other tables.

The men had glanced the boy’s way when he had first entered, but as soon as they saw he was a guest of the man with the scissors, they lost interest and went back to what they were doing.

A moment ago, a man had come in and asked, “What’s with the kid?”

“Friend of Tick’s, probably. He always plays with the kids in the neighborhood when he doesn’t have work.”

“…Does he take the scissors along?”

“Yeah.”

“Not that I’ve got room to talk, but, uh…are the cops asleep or something?”

And that conversation was the only thing that happened.

It was less that the Gandor men were actively disinterested than that they were hesitant to get involved with a regular citizen—but their behavior could have been interpreted as indifference, and right now, to Mark, it was an invisible pressure that made it hard to breathe.

What am I doing anyway…?

Until just yesterday, he’d been planning to die. He still was, in fact.

But ever since he’d run into that immortal monster, his emotions and logic had become totally confused.

What in the world is he? Why is he bothering with somebody like me?

Somebody like me.

The boy had decided he had no value whatsoever. In fact, he even thought the world would be better off without him.

It was less a fact he’d resigned himself to and more of a wish for himself—

—but things were different now.

That monster with the eerily casual smile had taken an interest in him, and he had bigger questions than his own value.

Something had crossed the bounds of common sense and shown itself to him openly. Someone steely enough to ignore that and die anyway might never have considered suicide in the first place.

Even so—if he’d been able to calm down and collect himself again, the boy might have been able to choose death after all. However, in the course of investigating that immortal human, he’d heard the name of a certain organization, and he couldn’t ignore that, either.

The Gandor Family.

What significance did this name have for the boy? The men around him had no idea, and neither did the man with scissors who’d brought him here.

In fact, the boy himself wasn’t entirely sure. He was just about to start reviewing his own past connection to the Gandors, give some fresh thought to what he should do, when—

“Say, what are you doing, amigo?”

—he heard the voice of a surprisingly cheerful woman.

“Huh?!”

“This is no place for kids, you know? I know the orange juice Edith makes is amazing, but if you don’t keep your wits about you, these scary guys might sell you off.”

When Mark looked up, there was a woman who seemed like a saloon girl across the table from him. She had her elbows on the tabletop and was leaning in, bringing her face close to his.

He guessed she was Mexican and about twenty, or maybe a little younger.

Guileless would initially seem like a good word to describe her, but the two katana at her waist appeared to be real.

“Um, I, uh…”

He wasn’t sure how to respond, and as he hesitated, someone called languidly from the kitchen.

“Oh, don’t do that, Mariaaa; no threatening him. He’s a gueeest.”

The voice belonged to the man with scissors, and he sounded perfectly relaxed. For a moment, the girl he’d called Maria stared blankly. Then she sat down across from Mark.

“A guest? How about that. Why’d you come here? Oh! Let me guess… Did you come to order a hit from me, amigo?! Sure thing! I’ll do it for free, just for you! Who do you want me to kill?”

“Huh…?” Mark was speechless after the outrageous question.

He assumed she was joking, but a sickening, irritated feeling spread through his stomach.

“Killing people…is one of the worst things you can do.”

“Sure is! So who should I kill?”

“……”

“I’ll kill anybody for you. The stronger the better—it’s more fun that way!”

Realizing she wasn’t the type of person you could actually converse with, Mark turned away. He was done with this.

Meanwhile, the man with the scissors was walking toward them from that direction, snicking away. In his free hand, he was carrying a plate of food.

“I just fixed something to eaaat. Want some?”

On the plate were slices of ham, cut into perfectly equal pieces and arranged around an apple in the center.

There was no telling how he’d done it with scissors, but the top half of the apple had been beautifully carved into the shape of a hat-wearing man and woman who were holding hands.

“Wow, that’s incredible…,” the boy murmured.

But then, right before his eyes, Tick snipped the carving apart.

“Aah!”

Severed from its apple base, the fruit sculpture rolled and fell. Maria smoothly scooped up the couple, whose hands were about to come apart—and bit off the man.

“…Mm-hm…mm-hm… That’s good, amigo. Here, have some.”

Maria held the bereaved apple woman out to Mark.

The men around them were either watching them wearily or ignoring them completely.

I was wrong, Mark thought, looking at the innocent smiles of the two at his table. I shouldn’t have come here.

He hadn’t been hurt. They hadn’t stolen anything from him. He hadn’t been threatened emotionally. Yet, in the course of this brief exchange, the boy had realized something.

This place is—wrong.

This was not a place he should be.

The words the Mexican girl had said earlier, the ones he’d taken for a joke, had begun to acquire a devastating aura of truth.

Oh. Oh no. I completely misunderstood. Back then, when she said she’d kill anyone, it wasn’t a joke. She wasn’t teasing me because I’m a kid. This woman is serious. She’d seriously kill anyone. She said what she said to a kid like me, and she meant every word…

She’s that unhinged.

He could sense an immediate danger, as if something were about to crush his life in its fist if he didn’t get out of there right that second.

No… Wait. You were already planning to die, remember?

Even when he reminded himself of his resolve, fear bound his heart tightly.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of dying.

The boy was still prepared to die, but even then, he was afraid.

That unsettling sense that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be turned into a terror that surpassed everything and tightened around his heart.

He really should have just jumped off that bridge, he thought.

The idea actually calmed him down.

After all, he shouldn’t be on this earth in the first place. In that case, it didn’t matter where he was.

Once splitting hairs had helped him get his fear under control, the boy quietly asked, “Miss… Would you really kill anyone?”

“Huh? Sure. Except an amigo you’re fighting with. I need something interesting. I used to fight with Elita all the time, but now that I can’t see her anymore, those fights are a good memory, too. If I kill your friend, you won’t be able to fight anymore, you know?” Maria said, waxing nostalgic.

Dexterously peeling an apple with scissors, Tick asked, “Who’s Eliiita?”

“My amiga back in Mexico. She’d sleep with anything male, she was quick with her fists, and she was always throwing knives at me. I haven’t seen her for a while, though, so I don’t know what she’s up to these days!” She gave a carefree laugh.

“Um…,” Mark said, his expression serious.

“Oh, sorry, amigo. I forgot about you! So? Who should I kill?”

“Well… Just hypothetically…”

“Mm-hm?”

Maria nodded with amusement, and the boy asked her a leading question.

“If, say…you were up against an immortal monster, are you saying you could kill them?”

Well. I said it.

If she decided he was a lunatic and kicked him out, that would be fine.

If she did know something about immortals, she might get flustered.

However, if there really was a connection here, and she got suspicious of him…

No… I’m not… I’m not afraid to die.

That was the thought in his mind as he steeled himself to ask the question, but—

“Huh? Immortal? You mean like our bosses?”

“…Huh?”

Maria had answered so nonchalantly that for a moment, Mark didn’t understand what she’d said. She ignored him and went on.

“Hmm. If you’re asking whether I could kill them or not, I probably couldn’t. But if you just want me to take them down, then I dunno, amigo! A long time back, I took the boss’s arm and—”

“Whoa, Maria, dooon’t. Mr. Luck and the others said that was a seeecret, remember?” Tick said.

Maria gasped and put a hand over her mouth. “Ohhh, I’m sorry, amigo! Uh, what I just told you was a dream! That somebody told me about! Okay? If you think too much about it, you’ll get sleepy, all right, amigo?”

“……”

Maria’s excuse didn’t make much sense.

Mark just felt stunned—but he quickly came back to himself.

“Um…”

Snik.

What he’d been about to say was cut off by the too-sharp sound of scissors.

Mark flinched, swallowing instead of letting out his next breath. Every muscle in his body tensed, and with some difficulty, he turned his gaze toward the sound—toward the young man who was opening and closing his scissors with gusto.

But the young man was still wearing a childlike smile, and his voice was a gentle murmur.

“I wouldn’t ask seriously if I were youuu.”

“……”

“If you told anybody about it, they’d probably laugh at you. Or…” He slowly opened the scissors and snapped them shut. His voice was still calm. “Did you come here to find out about people who don’t die?”

“……”

Dammit.

It was only natural, really. He didn’t think he could hide the truth from them any longer.

What would they do to him?

He gulped with fright at the thought—but the young man with the scissors only shook his head, his expression still kind.

“In that case, you shouldn’t beee here.”

“Huh…?”

“If you ask a question here, you’ll have to give something in retuuurn, you know? Even if you’re a kid.”

His voice was so innocent, and there was so little artifice in him that his mental age almost seemed younger than Mark’s. The utter lack of tension around him created a vaguely childish air.

Although he’d only just met this boy, the young man definitely had his number.

“And if you put yourself in debt to people like theeem, it can get pretty haiiiry.”

“B-but…”

“I don’t know what happened to you, but if you want to know about thooose people, you shouldn’t ask heeere. Everyone’s already on edge.”

“O-on edge?” The boy looked around, but the men weren’t paying any attention to his table.

He didn’t know whether they hadn’t been able to hear their conversation or if they were just ignoring it. Either way, he didn’t see any especially angry faces among all the tough-looking men.

Snicking his scissors again, the young man went on matter-of-factly. “Uh-huh… Do you know about Mr. Ice Pick Thompson?”

“……”

The boy nodded wordlessly, and the young man continued, scissors snipping rhythmically.

“It was somebody who’d only just joined up, buuut…Mr. Ice Pick Thompson killed a man from our syndicate.”

“Killed…”

“That’s right. So you seeee, you need to be careful. Don’t wanna get dragged into that, you knooow?”

Before the young man could say anything more—

—footsteps echoed from upstairs, and a man poked his head in.

The men in the office shot cold, wary glances at him, then promptly relaxed and went back to their business. The one who was closest to the stairs lightly raised a hand in greeting.

“Hiya, Carl. Sorry, Keith and the boys are out right now.”

“Hmm. I see. Apologies for the intrusion, then.”

“This is rare. You don’t normally show up without calling ahead.”

“Mm… Something suddenly turned up, and it has me worried.”

That conversation reached Mark’s ears faintly.

At first, he assumed the visitor had ties to the mafia, but when he heard the next bit of the exchange, his eyes widened.

“Is this about the Ice Pick Thompson incidents?”

“Yes, and also…that matter we were discussing…”

“Wait.” The mafioso raised a hand, cutting Carl off. “Let’s continue this in the back.”

No longer smiling, he took the other man into another room.

For a little while, Mark gazed after them, but—

“Oh yes, that’s riiight. That man just now would be safe.”

“Huh?”

Still playing with the glinting scissors, the smiling young man explained. “He’s a journaliiist from the Daily Days. He’s also an information broker, so I bet he’ll tell you aaall sorts of things, you know? Including about those people who don’t die.”

The man’s voice was as innocent as ever, and Mark couldn’t tell what he was really thinking. Maybe he wasn’t thinking much of anything at all.

The boy looked down quietly, repeating the other man’s words. “A journalist…from the Daily Days.”

“Uh-huh. They’re reeeeally amazing over there. Just pay them with money or a secret, and they’ll tell you aaanything.”

“…Anything?”

“Uh-huh. They’ll tell you all about us, too. Even the stuff that would get you killed if you asked here. Aaanything.”

That was a rather ominous thing to be saying so casually, but Mark wasn’t paying attention to that. He looked down, thinking hard.

The idea of an information broker had struck him as dubious, but if the man was from a newspaper, it was plausible he would engage in that sort of business on the side.

Maybe…everything I want to know is…

But I don’t have any money…

…

Mark fell silent for a little while. Then he abruptly stood up and murmured “Thank you…very much” to the young man with the scissors. With that, he started up the stairs.

“Huh? Hey, wait a minute. Who did you want me to slash, amigo?” the girl called after him.

She sounded disappointed, but the boy let her voice go in one ear and out the other as he left the mafia office.

It looked as if he was going to put the jazz hall behind him entirely, but instead, he leaned against the wall of a building a short distance away and quietly kept watch over the entrance.

His eyes were tranquil.

But they also shone with determination.