Baccano! - Volume 4 - Chapter 1

BEGG

1931 Early December Somewhere in New York

In a dimly lit room, two men were silent.

Even the beating of their hearts dissolved into the stillness, and their existence seemed very tenuous.

“Please understand, Begg. This is the last time I’ll be able to meet with you to negotiate.”

With no prelude whatsoever, the tall man broke the impasse. Prompted by this, sound, movement, and color seemed to return to the pair’s surroundings. As if to confirm that time had begun to move again, the tall man—Maiza Avaro—heaved a great sigh.

“Begg. Say something. I can’t leave without an answer from you, and depending on that answer, I may end up hurting you.”

Maiza looked sincerely troubled, and the man he’d called Begg finally opened his mouth. Vocal cords subdued, he emitted words that sounded rather choked.

“A-a-all right. I-I-I’ll do…as you…say.”

Begg’s eyes wandered vacantly through space. Only his heart had turned to faced Maiza.

“I w-w-won’t…d-d-distribute d-d-drugs on…Martillo Family…territory…anymore.”

On hearing those words, Maiza looked relieved. He walked over to his old friend.

“Thank you, Begg. Now we won’t have to be your enemies.”

In addition to pleasure, there was sadness in Maiza’s expression. After a short silence, he spoke to the man in front of him again. However, his tone held not situational social diplomacy but genuine feeling for his old companion.

“From this point on, I’m speaking not as a Martillo Family executive but as your friend. Begg, if possible, don’t distribute drugs in town—”

“I…I…I refuse. I—I can…do…what I…want.”

“Begg.”

“I…I…I became an alchemist…because I wanted to overcome…my limits…as an apothecary. M-my dream, my wish, my mission… It—it’s all about to come true. Two hundred years, and finally, finally, finally, I think…I’m about to get it. A—a way…to make…people…happy.”

On hearing those words, Maiza shook his head slightly.

“Are you still saying that? No such thing exists.”

“I can do…it. I…just…want to…make…people…into…the world. I want…to make…a world…for…each…individual…person. The…best…world…for that person. If I can…make that state…p-permanent, people can… They can die…smiling.”

“In other words, you’d destroy the human race. Don’t you see? They’d use drugs to bask in their delusions until they died, leaving no descendants, not even eating…”

“O-of course…that’s…only…the first…stage. S-someday, I’ll make…a drug…that…lets people…keep…dreaming…in their hearts…while…they’re…awake…and going…about…their business…as…humans. The sort…that…doesn’t…damage their bodies, only…makes…them…feel happy.”

At Begg’s “dream,” which was like an elementary schooler’s essay, Maiza sighed a little.

“You’ll exhaust their souls. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Ha-ha-ha. You’re saying…that you…of all people…believe…in something as…unscientific…as…souls?”

“At the very least, we aren’t in any position to be saying scientific and unscientific anymore. You know that already, don’t you? Not after we made a deal with a demon and became immortal.”

Immortal. The word sounded trite, but it was an eternal contract that linked the two of them. It granted immortality, which they’d gained from the demon, and…the curse of consuming one another.

They were able to “eat” each other, through their right hands.

The ability to devour all the other’s knowledge, their past and their experiences, and make them their own. In old Japan, there was a practice where a sorcerer would take several poisonous animals, such as centipedes, scorpions, or snakes, and place them together in a vessel where they would consume one another until only one remained. It was believed this survivor was the strongest of its fellows and the cannibalism had concentrated all the venom inside it.

Truly a curse.

In response to Maiza’s words, Begg fell silent for a while.

Then he argued just to argue, looking cross:

“People…seek…pleasure…on…instinct. I…only…want…to…pursue…that.”

“Pleasure that’s overstepped human instincts will be abused. Please don’t forget it.”

On that note, Maiza turned to leave the room.

“Maiza, th-th-thank you…for…not…eating…me.”

“…The next time you say something like that, I’ll get angry.”

After Maiza had gone, Begg stuck a syringe in his arm.

The drug’s purity was far higher than anything on the open market, but still he couldn’t feel it.

He was living through eternity, and by now his chemical tolerance was extremely high.

He could no longer seek pleasure on his own.

But what he couldn’t do, he continued to seek for other people.

Even if there was no meaning in the act.