Baccano! - Volume 16 - Chapter Ep

EPILOGUE

The living and the dead share the world

He remembered what his mother had said to him two years ago, in front of his father’s grave.

“Listen, if… If somebody kidnaps you and asks you where something is—tell them about this place, right away. Before they can do anything to you.”

She’d buried a box with some sort of bottle in it in front of his father’s grave, and then she’d hugged him very, very tightly.

“I thought about giving you some to drink, but…that’s not my choice to make. I don’t even know whether you’ll end up liking this world.”

He hadn’t been able to understand what his mother was saying, and he just kept listening silently.

“So just…live strong, Mark. Later on, if you find out everything, remember this place then, too. When the time comes, you think about what to do with it and decide for yourself.”

Her warmth had been very gentle, and he could still remember her smile vividly.

A few days after that, his mother was discovered as a mutilated corpse…

…and the boy had lost the ability to smile the way she had.

“That was lucky, huh?! They let us go without a scratch.”

It was the morning after everything had ended.

Elmer, who’d been released from the Gandors’ office unscathed, was talking to Mark, who’d left along with him.

“So how was it? Now that your revenge is complete, do you think you’ll be able to smile sincerely?”

“……”

Mark glared wordlessly at the immortal monster, who was being tactless, as usual.

“Well, I guess that’s not a question that comes with an easy answer, is it? I’m sorry.”

“……”

Wordlessly, Mark started walking, and Elmer followed him, smiling.

“Revenge isn’t something you do for the person who died, you know. You do it to resolve whatever’s in your own heart that isn’t satisfied so that you can move forward. So that you can live. A lot of people plan to die once they’ve had their revenge, but I think even there, it’s something they do so they can die with closure.”

“……”

“You’ve gotten your revenge and moved forward. You have the right to be happy now. I don’t know whether what you did was right or wrong, and I don’t actually care.”

The immortal monster didn’t applaud the things the boy had done, nor did he condemn them. He simply kept talking in his matter-of-fact way.

“Are you wondering whether you should atone for your crimes?”

“……”

“If that will satisfy you and let you smile at the end, go ahead. If you regret it, just think of a way to start over. You could also let the relatives of the victims take revenge on you. Whatever gives you peace of mind.”

Elmer kept rambling on insensitively, but even Mark could tell there wasn’t a shred of malice in what he said.

That was why instead of running, the boy kept listening to what he had to say.

“You can think about it until you’re satisfied. There’s absolutely no reason to give up. Remember one thing, though.”

“……”

“I will never deny your right to be happy, even if the rest of the world does. Don’t forget there’s somebody out there who thinks that, too.”

Mark stopped in his tracks, looked at Elmer steadily, and replied with blunt honesty.

“I…think you’re nuts for saying all that without even blinking…and frankly, you scare me. I’d rather not say this, but I get the feeling that with eternal life, a guy like you could destroy the world someday.”

“Oh, don’t let that bother you. I think that’s a normal reaction. My old friend always says people should be way more afraid of me with good intentions than of God with bad intentions! Ah-ha-ha! Pretty mean, huh?!”

Saying that was all he’d had to tell him, Elmer waved and started off, but—

—when Mark called after him, Elmer turned back toward him for a moment.

“That said…,” Mark murmured. “Thanks. For…everything. I mean it.”

For just a moment, he seemed to smile faintly.

And for Elmer, that was enough.

Night The underground bar Jane Doe

That evening, having completed his report to the president, Carl stopped in at the speakeasy where he’d heard Graham’s group would be.

In the end, Carl had made contact with the group again, then gone to the Gandors’ establishment. There, he’d managed to get practically the whole story.

Ultimately…Lester didn’t get out of the city.

Carl, who’d assumed Lester would promptly skip town, thought about that on his own.

Why had Lester gone to the Gandor Family instead of making a run for it? He’d never wanted an eventful life.

Carl had asked the president about it, and he had thought for a while behind his documents.

“…His desires as a murderer must have been greater than his ordinary fear of death,” he’d said, stating his own conjecture in his usual calm voice.

In that case…maybe he wanted to steer clear of incidents…because deep down, he didn’t want to be reunited with the killer in himself.

…Or maybe I’m thinking too kindly of him.

Feeling pity for his former colleague, he went down the stairs that led underground, and this time, he thought about Mark.

If it were possible, he’d wanted to adopt the kid. He’d suggested it to Mark at the Gandors’ office, but—

“Thank you…but Mark Wilmens is already dead. You can’t formally adopt somebody who’s dead, you know?” he’d said, shaking his head.

I wonder what he’s going to do now. Will he leave town?

Or is he planning to turn himself in? I hear a shady department at the Bureau of Investigation sticks their oar in when the liquor of immortality is involved…

Either way, killing people must have been a painful experience for a boy.

A mere child had killed people as if it was nothing. Maybe he’d done it for revenge, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d become a murderer.

Even though his motive was nearly the polar opposite of Lester’s…

Maybe nobody was born a murderer. Maybe absolutely anyone was fundamentally capable of it. In that case, didn’t everyone have to go through a fight with themselves to stay human among all the killers?

This incident was likely to end without the criminal’s capture, and Carl was thinking of wrapping up his articles on it that way. Still, he didn’t want to see Mark as a failure who’d lost the battle with himself.

Well…even if I want to find out for sure, I doubt I’ll ever see him again.

Feeling a different sort of pity than the kind he’d felt for Lester, Carl opened the door of the speakeasy.

He saw a boy.

“Let me tell you a fun, fun story! Smith picked up an underling! How ’bout that!”

“He says he’s an apprentice, not an underling.”

“I see… If he’s an apprentice, then Smith’ll have to teach him something. Come to think of it, I’ve spent the last few days having the sun and the world teach me my place! …Wait, does that make me their apprentice? Is this heat a trial set for me by my teachers?! We’re in trouble, Shaft; I haven’t practiced or prepared at all.”

“Just flunk and let the world turn its back on you, all right?”

Ignoring Graham and Shaft, who were having one of their usual conversations, a tall man in a long coat was sitting in a corner of the speakeasy. Beside him sat a small figure whose cap was pulled down low.

“Hey, apprentice.”

“Yes, Mr. Smith?”

“…Call me Teacher.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

The boy responded calmly—Carl definitely recognized him.

Shaft hadn’t noticed Carl, but his next comment provided further proof.

“‘A nameless boy who’s lost his memory’? Really? It’s clear as day that’s Mar— Mmfggle.”

“Don’t be a rube!”

Covering Shaft’s mouth with the end of his wrench, Graham lectured him in a whisper.

“Listen, Shaft. Ice Pick Thompson’s real identity is our secret and nobody else’s. Got it?”

“…Yeah, yeah. Mr. Graham, I swear to you, I won’t even tell my own father.”

Having overheard their conversation, Carl waited until Smith left his seat, then spoke to the boy.

And the boy told him, quite simply, that he’d apprenticed himself to a hitman named Smith.

“It’s not that I want to become a hitman. Smi… Teacher said he’d take on all my crimes for me, but I can’t just forget that I killed people. For better or for worse.”

He said Smith had accepted that without comment; apparently, he was equally devoted to the “death” of Mark.

“And so…I want to follow my teacher and the crimes he’s taken on for me and see the consequences through.”

“Are you saying you’ll eventually take the punishment in his place?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s only that I can’t get them out of my head, but…”

Looking down for a moment, Mark remembered his mother’s smile—and as he answered, he tried to emulate it as best he could.

“I’m alive thanks to my mom and a lot of luck. I want to see what happens in this life…as far into the future as I can.”

For a little while, Carl tried to say something, but then he looked at that smile and shook his head, giving up.

“If you get tired of watching it, stop by the Daily Days anytime.”

The information broker wondered if the link in his mind between his departed daughter and this boy made him a hypocrite—but he smiled anyway.

“I’ll teach you as much as you want about the basics of being a reporter.”

A girl was crying by the side of the road. Perhaps she’d gotten lost.

The passersby were concerned about her, but the train had signaled that it was about to depart, and they all boarded hastily.

However, one man stopped and walked right over to the girl instead.

The train doors shut.

He’d wasted the cost of his ticket, and yet he crouched down, putting himself on eye level with the girl to reassure her—and smiled at her gently.

“Hi there, it’s good to meet you! You don’t have to stop crying, but for now, smile! Go on and smile!”

That summer, a crying girl met a—