Baccano! - Volume 20 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Dance with the Stray Rabbits

December 30 Evening Somewhere in New York

New York State is easy to say, but it takes more than a word or two to convey its vastness.

When people who aren’t Americans hear New York, they usually only think about two things: the Statue of Liberty and Wall Street. Both are famous spots, one not far from Manhattan, and the other being on the island. Some probably think Manhattan is all there is to New York.

However, although population density is one thing, Manhattan is just a fraction of a fraction in terms of area. It’s a part of New York City, which is itself only part of the state.

The current stage wasn’t the heart of that glittering metropolis but a forested area far away from the big city.

The region was thickly wooded and usually deserted, but—

—at present, it was occupied by an oddly cheery group.

“All right, I’m gonna make sure we’re all here! Sound off! One!”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.” “Six.” “Seven.” “Eight.” “Nine.”

…

…

“Nineteen.” “Twenty.”

“Twenty-one.”

“Twenty-two.”

“Hya-haah!”

“Hya-haw!”

“Whoa, whoa! Hold it!” The guy who’d started the roll call put up both his hands, silencing the group.

He was still more of a boy than a “guy,” really. On closer inspection, the men and women who stood around him all looked as if they were under twenty.

They certainly weren’t well-dressed. If they’d been a little older, they might have been taken for workers who’d lost their jobs to the Depression and were drilling for a protest march. Most of them seemed like back-alley delinquents, though, and a few were clearly children.

Surrounded by those delinquents, the kid who’d been taking attendance shook his head. He pointed at one of the members of the group and called her out by name. “Chaini and Parrot, you gotta say the actual numbers. Gimme the numbers!”

The individual targeted by that accusatory finger looked confused. She was an Asian girl who wore thick glasses. “Hya-haah?”

“Hya-haw!”

Chaini tilted her head as she spoke, and the young boy beside her echoed her. It was like watching a pair of animals, and the delinquent kid hit them with a furious glare. “None of that ‘Hya-haah’ business! Get that outta here!”

“Hya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya.” “Hya-yaaw.”

“Look, you guys, I’m serious! Jacuzzi’s handed me a real important mission, a huge, once-in-a-lifetime job, and I absolutely can’t blow it!” The boy crossed his arms as he lectured them.

The other delinquents exchanged looks.

“Wait, did Jacuzzi ask that guy specifically?”

“Noooo, he just did his usual vague thing and went around asking all of us.”

“Yeah, figures.”

“Actually, who is that guy?”

“Yeah, who are you?!”

“Who?! Who?!”

“Wait, I don’t care who you are… I want money! Hand it over, bucko!”

“If you cough it up, I suppose I could do the roll call for you!”

“Hya-haah!” “Hya-haah.” “Die.” “Hya-haaaw!”

As everybody started shouting and jeering, the kid yelled back at them, temples twitching. “Hey, hold on a minute! One of you people just told me to die! Dammit, guys… Go to hell, you lousy jerks! Whoever said that is gonna die themselves! Okay, okay, okay, one of your number is on his way out… In a hundred— Yeah, inside of two hundred years, he’s definitely gonna die!”

“Shaddup, punk!” “You’re brattier than an actual brat!”

“Why’d you change it? Hey, why’d you switch from one hundred years to two hundred?”

“Because he figured we might make it to a hundred and fifteen or so!”

“He’s a bigger worrywart than he looks!”

“Chicken! Chicken!”

“Hya-haah!” “Dieee.”

“Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-whyyyy, yooooou little—!”

The roll-calling delinquent screamed, his eyes tearing up under the concentrated onslaught, until a sound broke through the commotion.

Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!

A bell echoed through the forest. On reflex, the delinquents turned to look in that direction.

“Okaaay. That’s enough. You’re wasting time. Time is dead.”

“Melody…”

The girl who’d grabbed the delinquents’ attention wore her blond hair tied up in two ponytails. She was holding the sort of handbells a shepherd would use, and she wore three watches on each arm; their design and quality were varied, and each one showed a different time.

Melody’s eyes looked sleepy, and she spoke in an easygoing way. “That pointless exchange ate up eighty-three whole seconds of our valuable lives. Even as we speak, second by second, we’re losing time. Even so, I’ve got a query—otherwise known as a question.”

“W-well, spit it out.”

“It’s fine to do a sudden roll call, but we didn’t call roll before we left. How is this going to tell us whether the whole group’s here? That’s what I want to know.”

“……Oh.”

It was an incredibly sensible question. All the delinquents, including the would-be leader, looked at one another.

“If that roll call itself was pointless, then the next time I say seconds, we’ll have lost five hundred and eighteen seconds. If life ends at fifty years, each human is given 1,576,800,000 seconds. Taking a whole five hundred and thirty-six seconds of that teensy amount is a serious crime. Perhaps punishable by death. Think you can handle that? Come on, tell me—can you handle it? Here, feel the weight of five hundred seconds… That’s five hundred seconds that aren’t coming back, all right? Time that’s past is death itself. Look, there, it’ll be six hundred seconds soon.”

Although her eyes were still sleepy, the girl with the watches tilted her head, coming closer.

“Whoa, wai— I—I’m sorry, all right?! We’re square, yeah? Right?!” the boy shouted in a fluster.

“No. I can’t forgive you. I’ve thought so for a while now, but both Jacuzzi and you people waste far too much time. If everybody’s wasting time, my hobby won’t be special anymore.”

The girl’s tone was suddenly serious.

The boy gulped. “…Hobby? Uh, remind me what your hobby was, Melody?”

“My hobby iiiis…wasting time.”

“…Huh?”

“I know better than anyone how precious time is. That’s exactly why I kill it proudly… I squash each second with affection, second by second. Everyone around me lives their life being pursued by the infinite demon of time, but I just watch them out of the corner of my eye, and I grind it under my heel. It’s the ultimate entertainment. Looook, even as we speak, we’ve burned through six hundred and fifty seconds of today.”

“I’m gonna knock you flat.” Temples twitching, with an angry smile on his face, the boy hauled Melody up by her collar. That move earned him even more jeers from the gallery.

“He’s gonna hit a girl!”

“He’s not even a man! He’s just scum!”

“Fellas like him go on to hit little kids!”

“Ghk… I’ll step in for those future kids, slug you right now, and save us all some time!”

“Time is money… Time is money!”

“Why’d you say it twice?”

“That’s how it is. And since I’m saving time, that means I get a dollar every time I slug you!”

The stuff his companions were saying was patently unfair, and the guy who’d called roll gave a shriek. “How does that even make sense?!”

“So who are you anyway?”

“You lousy no-good bags of—”

“Hya-haah!”

“Hya-haw.”

“There, that’s seven hundred seconds, gone forever,” Melody said.

The conversation rambled on. It might as well have been lunchtime chatter. However, although they could have been campers, the group seemed terribly out of place in the woods.

As they chattered with one another, several of them thought back over the roles they’d been assigned.

A few days earlier Somewhere in Chicago

Surrounded by the same group that was currently gathered in the woods, a kid with a tattoo of a sword on his face was giving a serious speech. “…And so, see, Nice and me and Donny and a few others are going to ride the Flying Pussyfoot, so I want the rest of you to take an earlier train and get there ahead of us.”

“No!” “No.” “Capital N-O!”

“Huh?! Wh-why not?!” Jacuzzi Splot stared at them in horror as they summarily derailed his speech. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Oh, I just wanted to see how it felt to turn you down.”

“That was mean!”

“Well, it’s… Uh… When you’re all confident, Jacuzzi, you just don’t seem like you, so I figured we’d at least finish you off ourselves.”

“Th-that makes no sense!”

Although he was apparently tough enough to get his face tattooed, Jacuzzi already looked ready to sob. Everyone around was fond of him and his timidity, though.

One of the kids turned to the side. “So, Miz Nice, once we pick up the goods, we’ll move ’em out on our own say-so.”

“Yes, if there’s any left over, I’ll dispose of it. Absolutely no open flames, and take care you don’t drop any of it. I’d advise being a good distance away when we throw it into the river as well.”

“Yeah, we know already.”

The group was boisterously reviewing a certain plan. When you considered the details, it was only natural they’d be acting that way. This plan put not only their livelihoods but their very lives on the line.

The Flying Pussyfoot was a transcontinental express train. It was so luxurious that it was known as a rolling objet d’art, and they were planning to steal cargo that it would be secretly transporting.

Jacuzzi and Nice seemed to have their reasons, but most of the delinquents didn’t give those much thought. They simply agreed to the maneuver in their own ways.

“So what are we stealing?”

Chatter resumed.

“They told us twenty-five seconds ago, and a hundred and twenty-three seconds ago. Get it through your thick skull already.”

“Ah, sorry, I wasn’t really listening.”

“Nwah, steal, new bombs, Nice, happy.”

“Bombs? Miz Nice already has a ton of those.”

“But see, I hear this new kind packs five times the punch of a regular bomb.”

“Five!”

“Hya-haah!”

“Hya-haw!”

“Hey, that’ll bring in a bundle…!”

“Ngah, we can sell?”

“I’ve got this relative who wants to use explosives in a Hollywood movie.”

“Although Nice probably just wants to blow ’em up.”

“Well, that’s it, then. Let’s pitch in to make Miz Nice happy.”

“I wanna go swimming in the river.” “Are you nuts? It’s December!”

“We can just warm it up with the explosives.” “Oh yeah! You’re a genius!”

“Actually, we’re using ’em to blow the Russo Family to kingdom come, right?” “I like bombs, too. They’re several years of destruction packed into a second.”

“It’s all about time with you, huh, Melody.” “Well, time is the most familiar, trustworthy unit of measurement to her. Melody may have superimposed her own world over it and be experiencing life more deeply as a result.” “Melody may be superimposed and deeply experienced!” “Hey, Chaini said something besides ‘Hya-haah.’” “And Parrot still mimicked her…sort of.” “It’s been thirteen days, three hours, thirty-three minutes, and twenty-four seconds since the last time I heard Chaini say anything normal.” “What, you keep track?!” “Don’t spout random crap.” “Well, it’s true.” “Okay then, if you’re lying, you’re gonna be my little sister!” “Gah-haaaw!” “Hya-haah!” “Geh-haaah!”

“Wh-whoa, whoa! Everybody, calm down!”

Jacuzzi clapped his hands, trying to get the chaos under control. Then the tension returned to his face. “Anyway, be careful. Somebody may call the cops on us right away, but if it comes to that, keep insisting you don’t know me, and you’ll be fine. If you tell them you just happened to be fishing in the river and picked that stuff up…”

“Hey, stupid, don’t go talking hooey. If it was just you, it might be different, but you know we can’t act like we don’t know Miz Nice and Donny.”

“H-huh? That was a mean thing to say, wasn’t it?” Their perplexed leader didn’t look happy about this.

The delinquents cackled at him, issuing warnings of their own.

“And hey, don’t you go looking out a train window and spooking yourself, Jacuzzi. ‘Waugh, there’s no way this hunk of metal could actually move this fast!’”

“I—I’m not that much of a coward… B-but actually, it is pretty amazing that something that heavy can go so fast… If it hit you… W-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!”

Jacuzzi’s face went white, and he backed up against the wall as he imagined getting struck head-on by a train.

Nice squeezed his hand gently. “It’s all right, Jacuzzi. We’re going to be on the train.”

“I…I guess that’s true, Nice. We’ll be safe there, won’t we?” Visibly relieved, Jacuzzi let his mind ruminate on the plan that was to take place a few days from now.

A mafia syndicate in New York had purchased a new type of bomb. If those bombs made it to their destination, New York would have a disaster on its hands. Jacuzzi had decided it would be safer to give the cargo to Nice or sell them to a construction site, and he had promptly resolved to steal them.

There was something else stirring in his heart, too. Deep down, he was still being careless.

Even if they were in third class, he thought he’d also get the experience of traveling on a luxury train.

* * *

He had no idea what sort of trouble he’d find himself in once he stepped aboard.

In the woods

Back to the evening of the thirtieth…

Jacuzzi’s group would be on the train already. Believing that their leader was currently living the high life, the delinquents reviewed their plan.

“So what are we gonna do next?”

“Help me find my little sister.”

“Look, fella. You never had a little sister.”

“Can’t we just hang out in these woods until morning?”

“It’s December!” “We’ll freeze to death!”

“Eh, just don’t sleep.”

“Let’s start a bonfire.” “We can burn the forest.”

“You idiot! We’re retrieving bombs. That means no fire allowed, remember?!”

“That’s the problem…?”

Keeping one eye on the guys as they rambled, Melody, Chaini, and the other girls were coolly checking the map and getting the situation straight in their minds.

“This is out of our control, but we don’t know exactly when that train’s going to pass through. If we get there late, the cargo will be swept downriver… We’ll need time to launch the boats, too.” Melody glanced at the two trucks parked behind them.

Some of the boys who were able to drive had borrowed the trucks from a nearby train station. Their beds were loaded up with several boats they’d borrowed from somewhere else. There was no telling what strings they’d pulled to get that loan, but they’d used one truck to carry the boats and the other to transport the group.

There were only five girls here. There were five times as many guys, and they wouldn’t stop making a racket. However, as their surroundings got darker, their faces grew serious. One by one, they drifted over to the group of girls and began examining the map.

“Actually, we might freeze to death for real unless we do something. Whaddaya say? If you want us all to get in the truck and keep each other warm, I sure wouldn’t min— Agh-guh-agh!”

Ignoring the kid who’d gotten his mouth plugged with some hard, stale bread, Melody nonchalantly pointed out a spot on the map. Her eyes still looked sleepy. “Let’s see… There are a few bungalows for hunters to use in the summer right here. Let’s use them. Somebody might already be there, but we might be able to borrow some fire and blankets. If nobody’s beaten us to it, let’s just stay there for ten hours.”

Meanwhile Somewhere in New York State

While the gang of delinquents was deciding to head for the bungalows, not too far away, the truck carrying the gang of female bandits was stopped on the side of the road again.

“What’s wrong? We’re almost there, aren’t we?”

The location Lana had chosen for their robbery of the Flying Pussyfoot was a bridge over a river halfway between New York City and the Great Lakes region. That bridge was long enough for their purpose, and they’d be able to flee in any direction they chose. If they got the money, they could even head straight for Canada.

Or so she’d thought, but since she’d settled on that spot without considering anything else, they wouldn’t be able to do anything until they’d actually looked it over.

Once they’d reached that conclusion that afternoon, they’d forced their jalopy to carry them all the way here.

Pamela checked the meter, then shut off the engine. “We’re running low on gas. We’ll have to fill up soon.”

Gas stations did exist at this point in history, but they hadn’t spread all across the country yet. Many travelers filled barrels or oil drums with gasoline and took them along, and Pamela’s group was no exception; they’d driven all around the country on the barrels of gas in the back of their truck.

“I’ll check the map to see if there are any bungalows nearby. Would you gas up the truck?” Pamela was already unfolding the map.

Realizing the other woman had no intention of leaving the cab, Lana opened the door and tsked to herself. “Honestly. I need my brain for work. What if the gasoline fumes make me dumb?”

“You couldn’t get any dumber, so don’t worry about it.”

“…I hope you drive right into a truck! Oh, wait, then I’d be in the wreck, too…,” Lana grumbled.

Pamela watched her head outside and began impassively reading the map. There was a cluster of bungalows for summer hunters up ahead. If they did actually pull off this train robbery, it might not be a bad idea to use those as their base.

As Pamela marked the spot with a pencil, a shriek came from the back of the truck.

“Eeek!” It was Lana.

“…? What happened? Did you fall and soak yourself with gasoline? I could set you on fire and warm you up. Forever.” She lobbed her sarcastic threat out the window, but Lana said nothing in response.

“…?”

Frowning, Pamela folded the map, climbed out of the cab, and turned around. Lana was peeking under the canvas canopy, her mouth flapping soundlessly.

“What’s the matter?” Pamela said with an exaggerated sigh as she walked to the back of the truck. She peeked into the bed. “Is Sonia stark naked a…gain…?”

She froze just like Lana.

Before their eyes was an unfamiliar boy, blissfully snoozing away.

Zzzz… Zzzz… Zzzz…

Meanwhile In the woods

After the trucks carrying the gang of delinquents and their boats had driven away, the stone-faced men who had been watching them from a distance began whispering among themselves.

(“…Are they gone?”)

(“What was that? They can’t be campers, not at this time of year.”)

(“They probably came to do some dope or have an orgy. Guess the cold got the better of them and they headed home.”)

The men, who were wearing military uniforms, turned back and headed deeper into the woods. Their expressions were still set.

(“Let’s return to camp. The operation begins in another two hours.”)

(“Yes, sir!”)

The men walked in silence—except for the man who appeared to be their leader. “Let us hope the negotiations succeed on the first attempt,” he murmured with a thin smile.

“It may be for the sake of the revolution…but even I don’t want Comrade Goose to put a bullet through a child’s skull.”

And so they headed for the bridge.

They were a unit of the Lemures, a revolutionary terrorist group. Their role was to negotiate and relay the results to their comrades on the Flying Pussyfoot.

The maneuver involved taking a senator’s wife and daughter hostage—practically a suicide mission. However, none of them had the slightest suspicion that Goose and their comrades might fail.

This was completely understandable.

After all, they had no way of knowing exactly what was on that train with them.

In the back of Vanishing Bunny’s truck

“Let me ask you again: What’s your name?”

“Carzelio… Carzelio Runorata.”

“Okay, I’m calling you Cazze. Cazze, when did you get into our truck?”

“I’m sorry… Um…” The boy lowered his eyes apologetically.

Pamela gently stroked his hair to reassure him. “Don’t worry. We’re not mad. We were just a little startled. That’s all.”

“Th-thank you… I ran away from home… The truck was right there, so I got in and hid so they wouldn’t take me back…”

“I see… Still, it’s lucky you didn’t fall right out, napping in the bed like that. Sonia, keep him company for a while.”

“Nyergl?” Hearing her name, Sonia sputtered from the back of the truck’s bed. Her eyes were hazy with sleep. She’d been awake for a little while, but she wasn’t fully alert yet, and she still didn’t seem to know what was going on.

Leaving Cazze in her care, Pamela stepped away from the truck and took Lana with her.

“He probably climbed in right after Sonia fell asleep,” Pamela said once they had some distance from the truck, calmly assessing the situation.

The boy’s clothes were muddy in places, but they were clearly different from what normal children wore. There was something peculiar about them; even an amateur could tell they weren’t clothes most kids would be wearing. Whoever dressed him wanted him to be in luxury.

If they’d been told the boy was a descendant of English nobility, they would have believed it from the way he carried himself. Lana’s eyes were glittering, but Pamela sighed, frowning. “Who’d have thought we’d pick up a runaway?”

“…With clothes like his, he’s got to be from that incredible mansion. I bet his jacket alone cost what a midlevel bank clerk would make in a week. Maybe even a whole month.”

Pangs of jealousy nipped at Pamela as she remembered the mansion Lana had pointed out that afternoon. “What do you suppose he had to run away from, living in such a nice house?” However, she still believed rich people had worries of their own, so she didn’t make any bitter comments about him. Besides, we’re bandits. We can’t exactly talk. Inwardly, Pamela scoffed.

Meanwhile, Lana clapped her hands together lightly, spectacles gleaming. “I just had a brilliant idea! Let’s kidnap him and collect a ransom!”

“You say that like it’s easy… Frankly, I considered it myself, but…” Pamela clicked her tongue, embarrassed to have had the same idea as Lana even briefly. After a short pause to think, she agreed—on one condition. “It seems like a better plan than robbing the train…but let’s make sure the boy never realizes he’s been kidnapped. I don’t want to deal with scaring him off and chasing him down, and I don’t want to traumatize the poor kid.”

“Why not just shoot him in the leg?”

“…Are you serious?”

“I’m kidding, of course.”

Pamela gave her an icy glare, and Lana averted her eyes, breaking out in a cold sweat.

Meanwhile, Pamela had an odd sense that something wasn’t quite right. “Still, ‘Runorata’…,” she murmured. “I’ve heard that name before…”

“Well, duh. They’re rich people who live in a humongous house. I bet we’ve heard their name on the radio or seen it in the papers, and we just didn’t care enough to remember anything else.”

“…You think?”

Pamela didn’t feel entirely convinced. That said, she couldn’t remember anything else, so she kept the vague, unsettled feeling to herself.

“Yaaaay, how cuuute! You look just like Nader when he was a kiiid.”

“P-please don’t do that. Who’s Nader?”

When the two of them returned to the back of the truck, they found Sonia petting Cazze’s head like a cat. He was blushing bright red.

Lana spoke to him with a friendly smile. “Say, Cazze? Do you know the telephone number for your house?”

“Huh?! U-um… Are you going to call them?”

“Oh, don’t worry! We’re not going to tell them to come get you. We just… Well, if you up and disappear, your people will worry, you know? We thought we’d give them a ring and tell them you were fine. You’re planning to go home tomorrow either way, right?”

Lana smiled brightly, adjusting her glasses. Cazze hesitated. However, deciding the three women could be trusted, he obediently told them his home telephone number.

As a result, they attracted another piece of the impending ruckus.

The outskirts of Newark In the Runorata mansion

I’ll be back by the New Year. Don’t worry. It isn’t anybody’s fault, so please don’t be mad at them.

When he was informed that his first grandchild had written a note and disappeared, Bartolo Runorata sighed, frowning. “Hmm… Well, I’d imagine this life is hard on a boy his age.”

The boss of the Runorata Family was a bit over fifty. The wrinkles on his dignified face were neither particularly shallow nor deep, and his spectacles made him look intellectual.

“Still, he’s got more gumption than I thought. That’s good,” he murmured.

“This is no time to be saying that, boss!” Cazze’s father shouted. “He’s— He genuinely doesn’t know what it’s like out there!! He has no idea what sort of dangers there are!”

“But it was you two who raised him that way.”

“Ngh…!”

Bartolo didn’t interfere with his grandson’s education any more than he had to. He’d taught him the manners that were appropriate for his age, but as a rule, he respected his daughter’s and son-in-law’s opinions. Although he’d expressed a few doubts about keeping the boy so extremely sheltered and never letting him go outside by himself, he’d ultimately let the child’s parents decide how to handle things.

Granted, I doubt I’ll have any part to play in this affair.

His son-in-law’s men were searching desperately, but Bartolo didn’t intend to dispatch any more of the Family’s members than he had to. This wasn’t because he wasn’t concerned for his grandson. He didn’t want to cause a big fuss and risk alerting other Families.

This incident isn’t in our jurisdiction yet.

He was worried, but on the other hand, he knew how the boy felt. He didn’t think that dragging him back against his will would be the right move. As far as Bartolo was concerned, sending guards to shadow him secretly once they found him would be enough.

In stark contrast to Bartolo, Cazze’s father was clearly anxious. He pointed at the men in charge of guarding Cazze, who were standing nearby, and shouted, “If you’d been keeping a proper eye on him, this never would have—”

“Put your finger down.”

“……!”

Bartolo’s words held a quiet pressure, and everyone around him swallowed hard.

“No, boss. He’s right. It is all my fault.”

“That’s not for you to decide.” The guard seemed liable to offer to kill himself at any moment, and Bartolo spoke to him quietly. “When Cazze comes back, learning his helpers have been punished would come as a shock. If you’ve lost all your fingers as a result of his little excursion…”

“……!”

Everyone understood that he wasn’t speaking hypothetically. Even Cazze’s father felt cold sweat break out on his back.

The situation was stagnant, and just as an unpleasant silence threatened to dominate the room, a butler-esque man came over and whispered something in Bartolo’s ear.

“Well, well…” Bartolo’s eyebrows twitched slightly. Showing no emotion, he quietly rose from his chair.

“Boss…? What is it?” His behavior seemed to worry Cazze’s father; his expression was uneasy.

Bartolo’s next words were as impassive as ever. “I’m told there’s been a phone call demanding a ransom.”

“Huh…?”

“We’ve been ordered to bring cash to a designated bungalow by tomorrow morning, without informing the police. They’re more frightened of the police than they are of us. That’s quite a joke.”

“N-n-no! It can’t be! Ca…Cazze has been kidnapped?!” The man’s face had gone white as a sheet.

“It appears that, finally, the matter has come under our jurisdiction.” Bartolo was unflappable.

“In that case…all I need to do is issue orders to the appropriate people.”

A few minutes later—

Two military motorcycles sped away from the Runorata Family’s mansion.

The bikes had been heavily modded, and they raced down the dark road at a speed that easily surpassed thirty miles per hour.

The riders were dressed as if they’d slipped out of a party, in sharp swallowtail coats and shiny patent leather shoes, and they were identical twins. They wore goggles over their indistinguishable faces, which had no expression on them whatsoever.

Just as the bikes hit their top speed, they shifted to ride side by side as smoothly as if they’d planned it. In perfect sync, their lips curved into smiles.

The twins were guards who worked directly for Bartolo himself, and even in the Runorata mansion, they hardly ever spoke to anyone except him or each other. This was the first “hunt” they’d been assigned in a long time, and the thought of the mission made their hearts leap.

At the exact same moment, they opened their mouths, and an odd song began to echo between the two of them.

  Come, let’s begin the hunt.

Swing your blade; drive your prey before you.

Run twisterly, wavagly, loppely.

Don’t overtake it, even when it’s in your grasp.

Don’t let it escape, even when it’s slipping away.

Run swiftig, stumblect, dronkily.

When the rabbit is tired, raise your blade.

The little rabbit is spent.

The strength is yours. The kill is yours.

What you need are courage and hope.

Kill that exhausted rabbit.

First kill the rabbit, next kill a pig.

Take the pig’s head, then take a deer’s.

Until a man or a monster awaits you.

Large or small, array yourselves

before us, blessings of the land.

Cut them apart bravely.

Be greedy, be grateful.

Come, let’s begin the hunt.  

Singing like children headed out on a hike, they raced through the darkness as if they were enjoying themselves enormously, keeping their bikes at top speed.

The noise of their engines and the wind drowned out their voices. Although they were zipping down the road side by side, their song didn’t even reach their own ears.

Even so, they went on singing at the exact same speed and in the exact same rhythm.

They almost seemed to be announcing the beginning of the impending ruckus…