Baccano! - Volume 6 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 2

SPEAR AND KNIVES AND JAPANESE KATANAS

In all of New York City, Millionaires’ Row in particular was a district populated entirely by “winners.”

The area faced Grand Central Station, and it was no exaggeration to say that only the uncommonly fortunate members of the wealthy class made their homes there.

Among those houses, the Genoard Family’s second residence towered majestically.

The building wasn’t overly ornate, but this only highlighted the elegance of its design.

Its spacious garden made visitors forget that they were in the heart of Manhattan for a moment.

The house was so grand that it made you feel as if you’d wandered onto a movie set. Everyone who passed it envied the incredibly lucky, successful people who must live there, and sometimes they were flat-out jealous.

However, the resident of that fine mansion was currently…

…wearing an indescribably pathetic expression and crying, like an actor in a comedy film.

Big tears streamed from both his eyes, as if he were a little kid who’d been scolded.

The “winner” was crying up a storm.

“Ughk…hic… L-look, I mean, I…I—I was just… I just thought we should clean real thoroughly…and I…hic! I had n-no idea this would happen…”

Inside the mansion, in a corner of a hall that looked like it belonged in a state guest house, a guy was crying, and several other young people were standing around him.

“I…I—I—I…I mean, this vase… Who even knows how much it cost…”

“Jacuzzi. Are you going to feel more or less sorry depending on the cost of that vase?”

“Eep! …I…I—I, I’m sorry, I didn’t, that’s not what I…”

“Okay, I know, just don’t cry.”

The guy—Jacuzzi—glanced fearfully at the companions who stood around him.

He was still young enough that you could probably have called him a boy, and he had a distinctive sword-shaped tattoo over the left half of his face.

However, in sharp contrast to that tattoo, there was absolutely no spirit in the young guy’s expression, and the look in his eyes made even the people who saw it feel timid.

One individual who seemed to be the guy’s friend had been attempting to simultaneously lecture him and console him for a while now, but it really didn’t look as if he was going to stop crying anytime soon.

“S-so, so listen, Jon. Hic… I really can’t do thiiis… I-if I have to live in a mansion like this one, my heart’s not gonna last much longer.”

“Jacuzzi, c’mon, how many times do you think you’ve said that already? Fang and I negotiated and got a place where we could all sleep. You guys got run out of Chicago, and now you get to live in a mansion like this for free; talk about unbelievable luck. I’m jealous.”

“You live here, too, Jon…”

Even as he sniveled, Jacuzzi argued, and the guy he’d called Jon shot back sharply.

“Quit your whining. You take care of this mansion properly, and in exchange, they let a shabby mob like you get away with living here. You’d better be grateful to Miss Eve.”

Jon was planning to keep grumbling for a good long time, but their other friends had had enough, and they calmed him down.

“Let him be, Jon. We only found these jobs by accident, too. If the boss hadn’t mentioned them, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Uaah, Jon. You make Jacuzzi cry. That no good. Poor guy.”

One man was Asian, and the other was a brown-skinned giant. There were all kinds of other people in the mansion, and it wasn’t easy to say exactly what sort of group they were. The one clear thing about them was that no matter which of them you looked at, it was obvious that they weren’t upright citizens.

As if drawn by Jacuzzi’s tearful voice, one by one, the people in the mansion began to gather in the corner of the hall.

Jon, worried that the situation would get worse, shook his head and sighed deeply. Then he thumped Jacuzzi on the shoulder as if he’d given up.

“All right, Jacuzzi. I’m done yelling at you. I’ll tell Miss Eve about the vase, so you hurry and get this cleaned up.”

“O-okay. Thanks. But I’ll apologize to Eve myself, properly.”

“You moron. Are you planning to meet a sheltered young lady with that scary inked-up face of yours?”

“S-sorry…”

Their conversation petered out at that point, and Jacuzzi began picking up the shards of the vase in silence.

“What, it’s over already?”

“Boring.”

Muttering self-centered stuff, the young guys who’d gathered there began to scatter, going back to wherever they’d been earlier.

Watching them do as they pleased, Jon added one last comment:

“Hunh. Selfish jerks. Jacuzzi, run a tighter ship, wouldja?”

“Uh… B-but…”

“You’re technically our leader, y’know.”

Jacuzzi Splot was a half-fledged gang leader.

Through hard work and his natural quick wits, he’d turned what had begun as a loose group of Chicago boys and girls without families into an organization that could stand up to a small mafia outfit all on its own.

It wasn’t that he was particularly charismatic. People just tended to gravitate to him, for some reason. America’s biggest crybaby gang leader, whose charm lay not in the fact that he was a man who could be relied on but in an unsteadiness that made people stick around because they were worried about him—that was Jacuzzi.

When their group, which had no name in particular, had arrived in Manhattan two winters ago, they’d been half running from trouble they’d made with the Chicago mafia.

Even though they were only boys and girls, their group had several dozen members, and the first thing they’d had to do was find a place to live. This issue, which had seemed like their most difficult problem, had found a solution in an unexpected place.

Their friends Jon and Fang were a bartender and cook, and through a certain connection, they’d found work at the Genoard Family’s second residence—in other words, at this mansion.

Later, when the head of the family, Eve Genoard, had returned to her main residence in New Jersey, she’d asked Jon and Fang to act as caretakers for this house.

Eve had passed the job along to Jon and Fang because they’d won her trust during an incident that had occurred a short while earlier. Spotting an opportunity, Jon had asked, “As a matter of fact, we have some friends who are looking for a house. Since we’ll be taking care of this big mansion, would it be all right if we had them help out?”

Eve hadn’t suspected anything, and she’d agreed. In fact, Jon hadn’t been lying. If there was a problem, it lay in the fact that he had several dozen “friends.”

They obviously weren’t all here, but at present, there were about twenty people taking care of the mansion. They’d been making bootleg liquor and conducting other questionable activities, but clandestine jobs like those were conducted over in Little Italy, far away from this place, so as not to cause trouble for Eve.

Technically, they should have discussed it with the mafia who ran that area, but they’d had friends killed by the Chicago mafia in the past, and Jacuzzi was reluctant to join forces with them. The areas where they did their jobs were apparently run by minor outfits, the Gandor Family and the Martillo Family. Jacuzzi did have that information down properly.

They weren’t syndicates with nasty reputations, but Jacuzzi had done his level best to keep from getting involved with them. If they ever did come into conflict, he’d thought (counting his chickens before they hatched) that they might be able to handle little outfits like those somehow, and that was why they were doing their jobs in their territories.

However…

“It’s been nearly two years, and they haven’t said anything, so it’s probably okay, right…?”

Jacuzzi spent his days inwardly on edge, wondering whether a mafia bullet would come his way today, or whether the hitman would fire at him tomorrow.

Every time the doorbell rang, his spine stiffened, and every time there was a noise outside the window, he shrieked. Every single day.

And today, once again—he froze up at the sound of the doorbell.

Di-ding-di-ding-di-ding-di-ding.

It was a strident sound.

The bell was being rung so vigorously that you couldn’t immediately tell it was a doorbell, and the noise was ill-mannered in the extreme.

That made Jacuzzi’s reaction even faster.

A flashy doorbell. → Somebody’s ringing it violently. → The mafia is violent. → The mafia is here to kill us. → That has to be it. → We’ve gotta hide!

“Hey, Jacuzzi… What’re you doing down there all of a sudden?”

On seeing Jacuzzi, who had crouched down in the shadows of the table that the vase had been on, Jon spoke to him, sounding mystified.

“Shhh! E-e-everybody else needs to go hide, too! Now!”

Jacuzzi issued a rapid order, trying to secure his friends’ safety, but his tension was derailed by a woman’s voice that called from the entrance hall.

“Jacuzzi, Jacuzzi! Some familiar faces just dropped by!”

The voice belonged to a scar-covered woman who wore glasses over her eye patch.

It was Jacuzzi’s sweetheart, Nice. They were currently living together… And although it sounded good when you put it that way, there were about twenty other friends living with them, so it wasn’t exactly a spicy situation.

“Huh? N-N-Nice? What do you mean, familiar faces…?”

Jacuzzi looked perplexed, and then he heard yells from the people in question.

“Hey, Jacuzzi! Long time, no see!”

“Yes, it’s been ages!”

Timidly, Jacuzzi peeked into the entrance hall—and there stood a couple of friends he saw in town from time to time.

“Isaac, Miria!”

At the sight of his unexpected guests, Jacuzzi forgot that he’d been shaking and ran to the entryway.

“What’s the occasion?! If you’d told me you were coming, I would have had food waiting for you!”

“Heh-heh-heh, no need to trouble yourself about that! We’ve already had lunch!”

“Isaac, we were setting up dominos, so we didn’t eat.”

When Miria pointed this out, Isaac abruptly remembered that he was hungry.

“…Well, a samurai acts like he’s full, even when he isn’t!”

“Wow, Isaac, you’re a samurai?! Hara-kiri!”

“That’s right, Miria. No matter what a samurai eats, when he slits his stomach, it all comes out. That means there’s no point in eating anything! Don’t do pointless stuff; just grin and bear it. That’s the samurai way!”

“Yes, bushido!”

As his unexpected guests ran through this stupefying conversation, Jacuzzi began to smile, looking relieved.

“Wait, Isaac, weren’t you a gunslinger?”

Remembering his first encounter with the pair, Jacuzzi showed them into the Genoard mansion’s drawing room.

“Ooh…”

“This is amazing! It’s right up there with Alveare!”

When they saw the drawing room, Isaac and Miria marveled openly.

They’d initially been struck by how large the room was, but when they took in the rest of it, the ceiling, which was decorated with a painting of an angel, leaped out at them. It didn’t seem at all flamboyant; it was a pleasant landscape done in soft colors, with a seated angel in one corner.

The reliefs and paintings on the walls had been selected with an eye to how well they’d match the mood of the room, rather than simple opulence, and there was nothing overly fussy or nouveau riche about them.

The exquisite balance of the room resulted in a deeply elegant beauty that initially provoked admiration in those who saw it, then soothed them.

“This is fantastic, Jacuzzi! I heard you were living in a mansion, but I had no idea it was this swanky!”

“Yes, you’re really, really rich!”

“No, no…”

Jacuzzi had neither built nor bought the mansion, but he felt as if it were his own house that was being complimented, and he smiled bashfully.

“It didn’t look much different from my folks’ house on the outside, so I didn’t realize it was such a nice place!”

“Oh… M-me too!”

“Huh? …I-Isaac, Miria… Y-your families’ houses…?”

The pair’s unexpected comments bewildered Jacuzzi, but whether they hadn’t heard his question or were simply ignoring it, Isaac and Miria crossed to the center of the drawing room without answering.

Jacuzzi didn’t try to pursue the matter further, either. Instead, he hastily ran to the kitchen to make some tea for his friends, whom he hadn’t seen in a while.

Isaac, Miria, and Jacuzzi had first met at the end of 1931. On a long-distance train that was traveling from Chicago to New York, the three of them had made each other’s acquaintance and subsequently gotten pulled into a robbery of that train, executed by multiple groups (one of which had been none other than Jacuzzi’s gang).

More accurately, they’d gotten involved in the incident just after they’d greeted each other, and as the affair played out, both parties had greatly influenced each other.

After the train arrived at its destination, they’d been separated in the confusion, but afterward, they’d accidentally run into each other again in the city and had deepened their friendship. One was a couple who stood out even if they said nothing, and the other was a guy with a tattooed face who made his presence felt just by being there. They’d been able to spot each other easily just by passing on the street.

And today, the pair had visited Jacuzzi’s “home” for the first time, but—

“Still, I really want to make that guy Firo say gyafun somehow!”

“Yes, so do I!”

—Jacuzzi had wanted to have a leisurely chat about the incident on the train and other things, but for the past little while, Isaac and Miria had done nothing but complain about a young man named Firo.

“That Firo person was pretty awful. Knocking your dominos down, and then getting mad at you…”

Good-natured Jacuzzi just nodded along, agreeing with what they said, and he didn’t seem to have realized that this Firo fellow was a Martillo Family executive. Of course, it was doubtful whether Isaac and Miria remembered that, either.

“That’s it!”

“Ooh! What is it, Isaac?”

Isaac had slapped his knee and stood up, and Miria looked at him with eyes filled with expectation.

“I’d completely forgotten, but we’re thieves. Right, Miria?”

“Yes, serial robbers!”

“Huh…?”

Jacuzzi didn’t understand what they were saying; he cocked his head to one side, smiling vacantly.

Failing to notice their friend’s reaction, Isaac and Miria began to disappear into their own world, as usual.

“So, see, I decided we’re going to steal something that’s special to Firo!”

“Eeeeek! How dastardly!”

“Well now, hold on, Miria. True, stealing because of a personal grudge isn’t a good thing. It’s as low as you can get. So here’s what we’ll do! First we’ll steal Firo’s special thing, and we’ll write a threatening note! Then we’ll say we got it back for him!”

“Ooh, a put-up job!”

 ?

Realizing that the pair’s objective was beginning to get subtly distorted, Jacuzzi grew even more perplexed. Whether or not the pair noticed this, Isaac, eyes shining, was preparing to take the subject to its conclusion.

“If we do that, Firo will be happy, right? At a time like that, I’m positive we’ll be able to make up with him properly.”

“Yay! What a great plan!”

The conclusion was completely different from their original intent, and even though he knew it was tactless, Jacuzzi voiced his doubts in spite of himself.

“Huh? Didn’t you want to make him say gyaa or gwuff or something?”

At this accurate verbal jab from an outsider, for just a moment, Isaac and Miria glanced at Jacuzzi—and then they looked at each other and started saying “Hmm” and “Um” as if they were stumped.

“Drat. Miria. We hadn’t resolved the fundamental problem, had we?”

“Gyafunnn.”

“Hmm… No, hang on. I bet gyafun is a delighted yell! Let’s say that’s it, all right?!”

“…You two like that Firo guy, don’t you?”

As he spoke, Jacuzzi smiled cheerfully.

In response, without denying it, Isaac and Miria added confidently:

“Right now, Firo is our enemy! But we like him a lot!”

“Yes, we really can’t hate him!”

The two gave absolutely cloudless smiles. They were contagious, and the young tattooed guy was on the verge of laughing out loud, when…

At that very moment—

Di-ding. Ding-ding-ding.

For the second time that day, the doorbell of the Genoard Family’s second residence rang.

As they approached the street that held Millionaires’ Row, Maria asked a question she’d already asked countless times.

“Say, Tick. Can I cut them?”

She spoke in the tone of a woman trying to coax a favor out of a man, and Tick responded in the negative, speaking like a child.

“Nooooo, you can’t. Todaaaay, we’re just going there to talk.”

“There’s no way it’s going to go well, amigo! We know it’ll turn into a fight, and victory always goes to the swift, so let’s cut about three of ’em! If we do that, they’re bound to settle down, you know?”

“Nooope. You’re not allowed to do anything that rough!”

Tick’s voice had gone a little stern, and Maria looked up at the clouds as if she was bored.

Gazing at the gray sky, where there wasn’t a shred of blue to be seen, Maria grumbled quietly to the young man who walked beside her.

“Tch… I thought you’d understand, Tick.”

“Understand what?”

“You’re always snipping people with your scissors, right? Like it’s a whole lot of fun! So, see, I thought maybe you’d understand how I feel when I want to cut people.”

Maria pouted as she spoke. When Tick answered, he sounded slightly troubled.

“…I don’t hurt just anybody, you know.”

He seemed different from usual. With her face still turned up to the sky, Maria glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Mm… Why do you want to cut people, Maria?”

It was rare for Tick to ask questions, and Maria answered instantly, without even thinking about it.

“Because it’s fun, amigo! Not just people; animals, or plants, or things that aren’t even alive! Iron’s fine, or anything else. Cutting things is incredibly fun, that’s all!”

Maria spoke without a shred of guilt. Smiling again, she turned to face Tick.

“When I cut things or people, I feel like I’ve gotten that much stronger! The tougher or harder the opponent is, the better I feel, amigo! There are things nobody’s ever managed to cut before, and I—or rather we, Murasámia and I—are going to cut them! That’s unbelievably fun! So, see, I can’t stop. So let me cut them… Okay?”

She tried to steer the conversation back to the beginning, but seeing that Tick was silent, she exhaled, seeming to give up.

Then, although it wasn’t possible to tell what her companion was thinking, this time it was Maria’s turn to ask him a question.

“You mean it’s not like that for you, amigo? You do it because it’s fun for you, too, right? You’re doing that job because you like hurting people and seeing blood, no?”

“—Yes. It’s fun.”

Maria’s question had sounded mostly certain already, and as Tick answered, he was smiling faintly.

“But it’s also really sad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Say, Maria? Family ties, the bonds between people, duty and humanity… Do you believe in things like that? Do you believe in ties that can never be cut, no matter how badly people are wounded or how much pain they’re in?”

He’d answered her question with a question, and after giving it just a little thought, Maria said:

“I don’t really understand stuff like that, and I’ve never thought about it. But…if you believe they exist, then they probably do, right? I think that sort of thing is different for everybody, amigo.”

In a way, her words could have been taken as either a textbook answer or an evasion. Tick picked up one of the pairs of scissors he wore at his waist, and as he spoke, his eyes were reflected in the finely honed blades.

“What I like about it isn’t the part where I cut people. It’s the moments when I sense those ‘things that have no shape.’ That’s what’s fun for me.”

“……?”

“You see—I can’t believe in anything that doesn’t have a shape.”

There was a faraway look in Tick’s eyes, and his voice seemed flat. The way he spoke hadn’t changed at all. However, to Maria, it seemed as if the soul inside the young man had been switched for one that belonged to a completely different person.

“Things that break are the only things I can believe in. If it can break, that means it really existed… I want to see that, to see the instant when human bonds break. That’s why I hurt people. That’s why I keep causing them pain.”

Maria listened quietly to Tick.

They’d talked lots of times before now. She’d interacted with him for more than a year as a colleague who, although he was a little childish, was someone you couldn’t hate.

However…she’d just realized something. For that entire year and a half, she hadn’t known anything about this young guy. All she’d known was his surface, but his true nature was much, much deeper.

There hadn’t been any special trigger. She’d simply asked, quite casually. Yet even so, Tick had confessed his own feelings easily.

Maria didn’t know whether he just trusted her that much, or whether he would have told anybody who’d asked.

Everything about Tick’s monologue had been unexpected, and Maria didn’t know how to respond. She just listened. Listened very closely to the words that left the young man’s lips.

“…But I want to believe.”

Changing the cadence of his words a little, Tick murmured, looking up slightly.

“I want to believe there are things that will never, ever break, no matter how much pain someone takes, or how badly they’re wounded.”

“……”

“The things I felt for my dad and my brother, when my dad got rid of me… If someone hurt me, would my feelings for them have broken? Maybe that’s all I want to know. And so, with all sorts of people, I take these scissors, and—”

Snick.

That sound ended Tick’s speech.

His expression was no different from the way it always was, and the only thing in his squinty eyes was an innocent smile.

Maria thought for a while, but when she spoke, it was in her usual tone, and her expression wasn’t particularly grave.

“Hmm. Yes, if you believe in them, I really do think they’re probably there. Things that won’t break, too! I mean, listening to you—it’s not like anybody can prove they don’t exist! That means it’s just a question of whether you believe or not, amigo!”

Maria wasn’t trying to console him or give him a superficial peace of mind. She just said what she felt, in a matter-of-fact way. Tick looked a little surprised. Then he smiled his usual, easygoing smile back at her.

“I wonder. I guess you’re right. You sure are strong, Maria.”

“Believing’s important, amigo! A long time ago, my grandpa told me that as long as you believe, there’s nothing in the world you can’t cut!”

“But that would mean there really aren’t any bonds that won’t breeeak.”

“Then it’s a race! Let’s see whose belief in their idea is stronger!”

Maria’s smile was genuine, and Tick nodded firmly.

Then, as if amending his previous monologue, he added one thought:

“Yes… I believe. That’s why I’ve hurt aaall sorts of people up till now. And so, someday, I’m sure somebody will hurt and break me, too, you know? I’m prepared for that. Even today, the people we’re going to meet might hurt me and kill me. Before that happens, like the people whose spirits I’ve broken, I get the feeling that the things inside me—my duty and my ties to you and the Gandors—might just crumble, and—”

Before he’d finished speaking, Tick felt something cold against his throat, and he stopped walking.

When he looked, Maria had soundlessly drawn her katana and was holding it against his thin throat.

“Whoa, Maria, what’re you doing?”

There was no particular fear of death in his words. Maria stopped walking as well and spoke in a voice that held no intent to kill.

“None of that. You mustn’t think things like that.”

She was watching him with steady eyes, and Tick looked away, bashfully. It was as if he wasn’t even aware of the threat to his life at the base of his throat.

“I’m your guard, remember? I’m not about to lose to anybody, amigo! I lost to that Vino guy once before…but I’ll never lose again! Not to the people we’re going to see, and not to Vino. Never again! So, see, you couldn’t possibly get hurt, Tick. Believe that! That’s one thing we can both believe, isn’t it? There’s no contradiction there, amigo!”

The only thing Maria believed in was her own strength.

For that very reason, she wanted Tick, the person she was protecting, to believe in it, too.

To believe in her strength, to believe she was stronger than anything or anybody.

It wasn’t clear whether he’d picked up on that feeling or not, but Tick smiled quietly as he answered.

“Uh-huh, I believe. You’ll never lose to anybody, Maria.”

Tick nodded emphatically, with a smile that seemed to be directed at something inside himself.

The pair smiled at each other innocently, not realizing that they’d passed the house they were headed for quite a while earlier.

They had no idea what sort of visitors had just arrived at that house…

The Genoard Family second residence

“Uh, so, who’s Jacuzzi Splot?”

The moment he stepped into the entrance hall, the bespectacled guy with the black cloth tied around his head spoke insolently.

“Um, w-well… It’s…me.”

Jacuzzi identified himself nervously, scanning the faces of the visitors.

There were probably about ten of them. In an ordinary house, things would have felt cramped, but the mansion’s entryway still had room to spare. When he’d seen the first visitor—the man with the black cloth—he’d thought he might actually be a mafia hitman, but the sight of the timid-looking girl behind him offered some relief to that thought.

The people who’d come in behind those two were dressed in a variety of ways, and Jacuzzi decided that they seemed a little like his own group.

“U-um… What do you need?”

Even so, Jacuzzi didn’t let his guard down completely, and as he asked the others why they were there, his eyes were uneasy.

Isaac and Miria were still in the drawing room, discussing what “Firo’s special thing” might be. The only ones near the entryway were Jacuzzi, Nice, and a few of their companions who’d gathered to see what was up.

“Whoops, my apologies. I hadn’t introduced myself yet. I’m Tim. The folks behind me are my friends, and you can just ignore them.”

“Uh… Uh-huh.”

After giving them the bare minimum of information, Tim calmly stated his business.

“I’ll get right to the point—Do you people want to become immortal?”

About the time Jacuzzi was wondering, Is this some sort of missionary visit…? in one of the mansion’s inner rooms, a young woman had woken up.

It must have been the repeated sound of the doorbell that had done it. She’d been sleeping shallowly and then slowly sat up in bed.

She’d only meant to rest for a little while, but apparently, she’d ended up falling asleep.

I have to hurry to the garden and get back to trimming the trees.

Even as she thought this, she recalled the dream she’d been having.

Her dream had faithfully re-created a certain scene she’d lived through nearly two years ago.

She’d been in a crowd.

There was a man who was said to have plotted a large-scale act of terrorism against the government, although the details of the act hadn’t been released. This was a curious mob, people hoping to get a look at the man as he was transported under guard.

In that place, exposed to the eyes of a host of police officers, she was the only one who was there for another reason.

She’d come to rescue that terrorist, her own father…

There had been another plan, one in which the passengers of a certain train would have been taken hostage in order to demand his release.

However, because of the convergence of several factors, that plan had collapsed. She’d lost all her comrades as well. Or rather, it had been made clear to her that they had never been real comrades in the first place.

Still, she hadn’t been very enthusiastic about that operation to begin with, and her heart hadn’t been plunged into despair.

That said, she couldn’t give her father up.

She’d gone to the site of his transport alone, prepared to crush every officer there.

The moment her father appeared and was made to climb into the police van, she took up the knives she wore at her waist, preparing to cut down the police officer in front of her and launch into a run, but—

Just then, her father’s lips moved.

As though he knew she was there, watching him, he moved his lips, his expression filled with calm self-confidence.

It was a brief phrase, just a couple of words:

<Don’t worry.>

She hadn’t mastered the art of lip reading. For that reason, she wasn’t sure that was exactly what he’d said.

The one thing she was sure of…was that her father had no fears for his own future safety.

And—as a result, instead of breaking into a run, she’d hesitated and had lost her final chance.

As if looking down at her own figure, standing dazed and rooted to the spot, she woke.

Why did I dream about that now?

Come to think of it, the dress she was wearing today was the same black dress she’d worn on that train. She’d been wearing it simply because it was sleeveless and easy to move in. Could it have influenced that dream?

She still wasn’t certain her decision had been the right one.

However, at this point, there was nothing to do but believe in that smile of her father’s and wait. She lived from day to day with that thought in mind.

The new friends she’d met here in New York had taught her all sorts of different values, things she hadn’t had in her life before. Crybaby Jacuzzi, Nice the mad bomber, fantastically strong Donny, the knife users Nick and Jack, Fang the cook, Jon the bartender, and…the Rail Tracer. Many other diverse people had gathered here as well, and every one of them was a type of person she’d never met before.

Beings who never jumped at shadows, who believed in each other with a purity that was almost excessive.

At first, she’d been constantly bewildered, and even so, they’d welcomed her warmly. This had made Chané a little happy. She’d been surprised that an emotion like that had welled up inside her, but it certainly hadn’t felt bad.

She loved her father. In order to protect him, she thought she’d do anything.

And with equal intensity—she loved her current companions.

She spent her days wondering whether there was anything she could do for them. She felt as though, for the first time in her life, she’d found her own reason for living, and so she’d stayed with Jacuzzi’s group.

She had wanted to make sure she wouldn’t regret the present, the days she’d chosen to have.

To that end, as her contribution to their communal life, she was on her way out to tend the garden again today, but—

When she glanced through a window into that garden, a clear sense of wrongness stopped her in her tracks.

There was someone at the mansion’s back door.

Two people, a man and a woman.

She’d never seen their faces before, but there was one thing she could make out clearly, even at a distance.

The man was holding sharp scissors. The woman wore two swords at her waist.

A sharp light came into her eyes, and, wordlessly, she left the room.

She was gripping a knife, which she’d drawn from nowhere in particular, in each hand.

As the young woman—Chané Laforet—closed the door behind her, she had a singular thought in mind:

She would eliminate anyone who hurt her friends and her current way of life. Even if she had to die to do it.

With that firm resolution in her heart, Chané quietly began to walk through the mansion.

“Immortal? That’s, uh…”

“Oh, yeah, I know, I know. I get what you’re trying to say… So you don’t have to say it.”

The guy who’d introduced himself as Tim checked Jacuzzi’s words with a hand, then, adjusting his glasses, went on with his spiel.

“Sure, if I say stuff like that out of the blue, of course you’ll think I’m a loony. But if I said it later, casual-like, you’d treat me like I was nuts, anyway, and actually, I’d come off looking worse that way. It’s tricky.”

“No, well, that’s true, but… I-if you know that, then you just shouldn’t say it at all…”

“So, what we’re here for is… Hey, Adele. Explain it.”

Ignoring what Jacuzzi had pointed out, Tim snapped his fingers, signaling to the woman who stood behind him. The woman’s eyes looked vacant; she seemed timid, and her expression was constantly sleepy.

The woman—Adele—flinched at Tim’s voice, then hastily took a step forward and bowed to Jacuzzi.

When she did, Jacuzzi saw some sort of stick-shaped implement on her back, but he didn’t especially bother himself about it. He only said “Um…” and ducked his head in a nod.

“Oh, y-yes. Then, well, um, I’ll explain things, so… Th-thank you for…listening…”

Maybe Adele was nervous; she was very nearly incoherent. Tim smiled with an expression that told her to get her act together, and the man in the suit jacket behind Tim and Adele was glaring at both of them with murder in his eyes.

Who are these people? They don’t look like they get along well, and they brought up immortality all of a sud—

When he’d thought that far, Jacuzzi remembered: He’d once heard about the existence of “immortals” from a local information broker.

On that transcontinental train, he and his friends had met a boy. The boy’s name had been Czeslaw Meyer, and apparently, he was an alchemist with an immortal body.

He’d had trouble believing that story when he heard it, and he hadn’t mentioned it to his friends.

Up until just now, it had dropped clear out of his memory…but in his heart, Jacuzzi remembered it again, and it made him hesitate to completely deny what these people were saying.

Without noticing Jacuzzi’s complicated thoughts, Adele began talking in a detached way.

“Um…you were…being pursued by the Russo Family, and that’s why you left Chicago and came here, correct? Um, I mean, if I’m wrong, I’m sorry…”

“?!”

How did she know that?

The fact she’d just mentioned should have been something only he and his friends knew. Even if one of those friends had blabbed about it at a tavern, why did this woman know about it?

Up until then, Nice, Jon, and the others had been watching with expressions that said, Huh. Look at the shifty people, but the moment they heard those words, their expressions grew tense.

If the visitors were somehow connected to the Russo Family, this was a flat-out emergency for Jacuzzi’s group.

The atmosphere in the entrance hall had abruptly changed, but Adele went on in a feeble voice.

“U-um, please…don’t misunderstand… We aren’t related to the Russo Family in any way…”

Even after hearing that, Jacuzzi’s group didn’t let their guard down. Possibly because they’d picked up on the tension in the air, their other companions began to gather around the perimeter of the entrance hall, trickling in from other rooms.

“What’s up, Jacuzzi?”

“Who are these guys?”

“Enemies? Are they enemies?”

“Should we get ’em?”

“Hya-haah!”

The latecomers didn’t know what was going on, and they each said whatever they wanted to, but Jacuzzi was watching the other group silently.

Since there were more thugs now, Adele wore an expression like a frightened puppy. Even then, she kept speaking.

“Eep… Um… So you see, we’ve been…searching for people like you…”

As if to follow her, Tim spoke up, grinning.

“A group that’s organized and has lots of members but isn’t connected to any mafia outfit. We’ve been looking all over New York for something like that.”

In contrast to Adele’s voice, a harsh vibe hung around Tim’s words. He’d probably had her do the talking up until now so he could use that contrast to ensure that what he said made a vivid impact on the others.

“I’ll be blunt: Team up with us. Your reward will be immortal bodies. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

And so the conversation came full circle. Although he’d added the Team up with us part, as long as the word immortals was in there, what they said didn’t feel the slightest bit real.

“Listen, when you say immortal, what do you…?”

As if in answer to Jacuzzi’s question, Tim looked around at the crowd of his friends who’d gathered in the hall, then raised his voice.

“Look at that. I’d say we’ve got enough of an audience for our magic trick… Adele!”

“Y-yessir!”

As she responded, Adele reached for the sticklike object on her back…and then ducked her head at Dallas, who was standing beside her.

“Um, I think this is probably going to hurt a lot, so I’ll apologize now! I’m sorry!”

“Huh?”

Just as he was about to ask What’s that supposed to mean? the sound of inane voices reached his ears.

“Heeeey! I just heard someone say they’re doing magic tricks! Where, where?!”

“Yes, doves at full gallop!”

A couple who seemed to be dressed for a party poked their heads out of the drawing room.

The moment he saw their faces, a memory rose in Dallas’s mind.

A couple dressed to go to a party.

The couple who’d been in the car that had hit him that day, the day he’d been sent to the bottom of the river.

This information sparked inside Dallas, and he found himself face-to-face with a coincidence in progress.

“You! You’re the    ”

His hate-filled scream broke off in the middle.

Adele had been beside him, bowing, but a cross-shaped spear had suddenly appeared in her hand—

—and had been violently thrust up through Dallas’s throat.

“Huh…?”

Unable to process the terrible sight in front of him, Jacuzzi made a brief, dim-sounding noise.

The next instant, when fresh blood splashed onto his tattoo—

“WaaaaaAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAaaaaaaah!”

With a scream that could have been either shock or a tearful wail, Jacuzzi fainted.

“Oh, come on. Is this guy really the boss of these punks?”

As Tim watched Jacuzzi collapse, knees first, he exhaled, sounding disgusted.

“Now’s a real inconvenient time to pass out on us, pal.”

Turn back the clock slightly.

“Sorry, sorry. It looks like we went one street too far.”

“Get it together, amigo.”

By the time Tick and Maria realized they’d gone past it, they were already a good distance from their destination.

This was because when they’d backtracked, they’d come from the street behind; thus, the nearest door ended up being the rear entrance.

“It’ll be a bit of a detour, but we should probably go around to the front, right?”

“Aww, why bother! Let’s just charge in through the back!”

“You can’t ‘charge iiin.’”

Tick tried to stop her, but Maria stepped into the back garden through the small entrance without a second thought.

“It’ll be fine! We’re just talking and threatening them, anyway, right? In that case, we’ve got to make sure they know we have the upper hand first! My kills are always based on surprise attacks. I start with a sneak attack, clean up all the nearby mooks, then finally take on the target one-on-one, fair and square! It feels fantastico, amigo!”

“Uh-huh, but…”

Tick put out a hand to stop her. Then he realized he was still holding his scissors, so he withdrew his hand and put them back in his belt.

As he was doing that, Maria reached the back door. The garden was designed to run from side to side along the mansion, which meant there was hardly any distance at all between the back gate and the door.

With no hesitation, Maria strode forward, set her hand on the door, which was rather small for the back entrance of a mansion, and—

“!”

Somebody’s there.

Soundlessly leaping back from the door, Maria set her fingers on the trusty katanas at her waist.

Click.

Just as she began to draw her swords, the mansion’s back door slowly swung outward with a dull sound.

Standing there…was a woman with sharp eyes, wearing a black dress.

She was a pretty girl about Maria’s age, with a good figure. If you looked at her appearance alone, that was the impression you got, but the light in her eyes was endlessly sharp. She probably would have been able to make a timid person freeze up just by looking at them.

“…Afternoon, amiga.”

Quietly, Maria murmured to the woman who’d appeared at the back door. She hadn’t spoken with her usual lightness; she was clearly wary.

The sharpness in the other woman’s eyes concerned her—and so did the things she was holding in both hands.

They were hunting knives with blades that were easily over eight inches long, the sort that looked as if they’d be useful in a survival situation. The knife blades seemed a little too thick for a lady to brandish, but the woman in the dress held one in each hand.

Without relaxing her guard, Chané examined the Mexican girl’s face.

I really don’t know her.

She would have liked to settle the matter peaceably, but right before she opened the door, she’d heard the woman say “surprise attack” and “sneak attack.” Whatever her reasons, if she was planning to attack this mansion, Chané would show her no mercy.

As a result of this resolution, Chané had opened the door with her knives already in her hands. Just as she’d anticipated, the Mexican girl was already on the point of drawing her swords, and she’d begun to radiate clear, murderous intent.

“What’s the matter? Say something, amiga! I’ll introduce myself, just for the record: I’m Maria, and I’m a hired killer!”

The Latina introduced herself in a way that was likely to start a fight, but Chané made no attempt to respond.

More accurately, Chané was physically incapable of speaking.

That meant she couldn’t introduce herself in return. Though even if she had been able to speak, she wouldn’t have bothered.

“Tch! Silent types never get popular, y’know.”

Muttering this, the woman who’d introduced herself as Maria smiled brightly and returned her half-drawn katanas to their sheaths.

The instant the small, metallic click of the guards reached Chané’s ears—

Maria had crouched down low and was already right at her feet.

In one fluid motion, she drew Murasámia and swept it sideways, aiming for Chané’s ankles.

The tip of the blade drew an arc, seeming to lick the mansion’s wall, and in the blink of an eye, passed through the space where Chané had been standing.

However, her legs were no longer there. A moment before Maria had drawn her sword, Chané had jumped up, and her shoes had come to rest on the handle of the wide-open door.

Then, in a flowing motion, she leaped, rotating as she passed over Maria, who was currently drawing her other blade.

Chané landed back-to-back with Maria, and even in that moment, her knives were already reaching behind her.

A metallic clang.

She’d struck with a knife as she turned around, and Maria’s second sword had stopped it. There was no telling when she’d drawn it, but the long blade extended over her slim shoulder.

A second clang.

Maria had spun around, slashing with Murasámia, and Chané’s other knife had caught it.

Sparks flew, and the two sprang apart, putting some distance between themselves.

However, in the next instant, they both launched themselves into motion, charging straight at each other in identical attitudes.

Yet another clang.

They leaped apart, then closed in on each other again with a force that seemed nearly magnetic.

Both seemed to fight right up close to their opponents as a rule, and both charged at each other, then jumped back.

Repetition. The metallic noises rang out again, and again, and again.

It was like watching a stringless clacker toy, and as he watched the affair play out, the lone bystander murmured, “Ooooh, pretty…”

However, as if he’d remembered something, his smile faded.

“Oh…”

Tilting his head in the midst of the clangs and clashes, Tick spoke, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

“What should I do? Hmm… This isn’t good.”

Although he spoke as if he were in trouble, neither his voice nor his expression held much anxiety. Even if he had been anxious, there was no way he could have stopped the pair. If he tried to check them by yelling, it was entirely possible that only Maria would stop, leaving a big vulnerability for the girl in the dress to exploit.

In other words, all Tick could do now was quietly watch events unfold. Stressing out would do nothing to improve the situation.

There was no telling whether he’d thought things through that far, but Tick kept impassively watching the two blade users clash with each other, not seeming particularly flustered.

However: The clanging noises, which had rung out as rhythmically as a metronome, were interrupted by a sudden scream.

“WaaaaaAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAaaaaaaah!”

When she heard the shriek from the opposite side of the mansion, in the direction of the front door, Chané leaped away from Maria and froze, all without giving her any openings.

That voice…

The tattooed guy who’d accepted her with a smile, even though he knew nothing about her.

The instant Chané registered the fact that the scream she’d just heard belonged to that good-natured chump, she launched herself into a run, completely ignoring her foe.

When she saw the woman in the dress suddenly turn on her heel, Maria’s eyes went round with surprise.

“Hey! No! Don’t run off, amiga!”

Yelling words that seemed a bit out of place, she ran into the mansion as well, chasing the woman in the dress.

Tick, left behind all by himself, sighed in apparent relief, then turned to head into the garden that ran beside the mansion.

“I don’t get it, but…”

Giving up on mentally putting the situation in order, the young man walked along, still taking things at his own speed.

“…it looks like it really is better to go in through the front.”

“Wha… What on earth do you think you’re doing?!”

Jacuzzi had passed out, and Nice shouted in his place, her voice a mixture of shock and bewilderment.

An atrocity was being committed right in front of her and a dozen or so of her friends.

The stick-shaped object that Adele had drawn from her back was a spear that had been collapsed to about a third of its true length. It wasn’t just a spear, either: The moment she restored it to its unbroken length, its head opened out in the shape of a cross, transforming the weapon into a cross-shaped spear with vicious blades.

And…the tip of that spear had skewered the throat of the young tough who’d come in with the girl’s group.

The spearhead had pierced the man’s spinal cord as well, and it was protruding from the back of his skull.

The man who’d been impaled by his companion twitched for a while, but before long, his limbs fell limply, as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Whoa!”

“Wha, for real?”

“What’re they doing?”

These and other comments came from Jacuzzi’s friends. None of them seemed to really understand the situation, and no one else gave an exaggerated scream the way Jacuzzi had.

Isaac and Miria watched the scene blankly. Tim was smirking. Adele, who’d inflicted the damage, kept putting force behind her spear with no change of expression.

“That should do it, Adele. Take the spear out.”

“Y-yessir.”

At Tim’s words, Adele finally pulled the spear out of Dallas’s throat. Then she kicked his bloody corpse over, and it fell sprawling in the entryway.

“Okay. Now, then.”

Spreading his arms theatrically in front of his dubious audience, Tim spoke.

“It’s too soon to be startled.”

Bowing deeply, he gestured to Dallas’s corpse with his right hand.

“Didn’t I tell you? We’re about to show you…a magic trick.”

Except for the unconscious Jacuzzi, everyone in the entrance hall looked at the corpse, which was bleeding from its throat—

—and then they all witnessed a miracle.

“What…?”

The sight Nice’s left eye showed her was enough to take the values she’d cultivated in her life up to this point and flip them 180 degrees.

Flowing blood did not defy gravity. In the same way, once evicted, souls didn’t return to their bodies.

These two values, which she considered to be common sense, were about to be shattered.

The corpse of the thug that lay on the floor… At some point, the blood streaming from its throat had stopped.

No, it hasn’t…stopped…?

Through her glasses, Nice stared at the bloodstain that had spread across the carpet.

And she saw it. To her regret, she saw it.

The blood, which had spread far across the floor, was gradually retreating again.

The blood that she was sure had splashed onto Jacuzzi’s face had disappeared when she wasn’t looking.

Red blood was squirming on the fallen man’s neck like a swarm of red slugs.

Nice and the others watched the nightmarish scene in silence. None of them could move.

No one even tried.

A resurrection.

This felt nothing like that sort of divine miracle.

Each drop of blood writhed like a living creature, mingling with other drops and evolving into colonies. Each of these colonies joined with others, over and over, growing—until finally, as if returning to their own nest, they seeped into the fallen man’s wound.

Before long, all the blood was back inside the man, and as if to declare the end of the red march, the wound that had gaped at the base of his throat closed up.

Then all that remained was clean skin. There wasn’t a single sign that an atrocity had been committed on the man’s body.

No trace of blood or gore remained on the spear in Adele’s hands, either. Silver that provoked visions of sharply honed edges shone without a single dull patch.

When he was sure that his surroundings had gone completely silent, Tim spoke with a satisfied smile.

“Well? Are you convinced now?”

Wearing a villainous expression, Tim kicked the fallen man’s side roughly.

“Gahk!”

Although the man hadn’t regained consciousness, the impact made him exhale as if he was in pain.

The man really should have been dead—but he was definitely breathing again.

Once he’d confirmed this, Tim went on quietly.

“Convinced that immortals really exist…?”

When she saw that sight, farther back in the hallway, Chané caught her breath.

That’s…just like Father…

By the time she’d arrived, the man’s wound had been nearly closed, but in that one moment, she knew.

The person lying there was a being like her father.

Actually, Dallas was something termed “a failure,” but Chané didn’t know about Szilard and the incomplete liquor of immortality, and so she assumed that the guy who was lying in the entryway was exactly the same sort of being as her father, Huey Laforet.

Chané took a moment to think.

What did that group in the entrance hall want?

Why had Jacuzzi collapsed, and who had done it to him?

And—faced with an immortal, what on earth should she do?

On seeing the woman who had appeared at the back of the hall, Tim inwardly cocked his head, puzzled.

Hmm? That woman’s eyes… I think I’ve seen her somewhere before…

He shuffled through his memories briefly, but he couldn’t seem to remember. Telling himself that it was probably just his imagination, he slowly began to speak to the crowd in the entryway.

“All right: What I’m trying to say is—”

Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!

But his words were cut off by sudden applause.

The moment Tim opened his mouth, the weird couple that had been in the drawing room doorway had begun to clap vigorously, their eyes shining.

“Whooooa! I’ve never seen a magic trick like that one before! You’re just like Howard Thurston!”

“Yes, it’s the ‘sawing an assistant in half’ routine! Harry Houdini! Horace Goldin!”

Yelling the names of famous prestidigitators, Isaac and Miria squealed and jumped around like little kids.

At that, Jacuzzi’s friends also began speaking again, little by little.

“Wait, that was a trick?”

“A magic trick… Well, yeah, right?”

“Baldy over there straight-up said it was a magic trick.”

“Oh, I get it! Man, I thought he was a vampire or somethin’; that freaked me out.”

“Hunh! Just a trick.”

“Hya-haah.”

Muttering various comments, they all began to smile again, seeming relieved. Not many of them had ever seen an actual magic show, and they were probably able to tidy all mysterious phenomena away as sleight of hand.

Nice and Jon were looking at each other, seeming unconvinced, but the others were starting to smile.

“Oh, come on! Are these guys idiots?”

The one who was flustered by the situation was Tim himself. He’d used the term magic trick ironically, and he’d never thought they’d actually buy it.

“Hmm… Ah. You look like you understood that.”

Tim put his fingers to his temples as if he was having trouble. Then he turned to Nice and began speaking to her one-on-one.

“Well, to sum up: Does your group want to sign on with us and become immortal, like this gentleman? That’s my offer. To make that happen, we want you to help us steal ‘liquor’ that’s being stored in a certain location… That said, uh, can we wait until your boss wakes up to go over the details?”

“—Our goal is to boost the number of immortals as far as possible, see.”

The words of the man with the shaved head reached Chané’s ears as well.

Instantly, in her mind, this man Tim became a definite enemy.

Boost the number of immortals.

That meant increasing the number of beings who could kill her father, Huey.

She didn’t know who they were, or why they wanted to make immortals.

However, they were attempting to seduce and use Jacuzzi’s group, her friends, in order to make more enemies for her father.

That alone was certain.

Soundlessly, she launched herself into a run and slipped through the crowd of companions who were standing around in the hall, attempting to get right up close to Tim.

Naturally, she wasn’t about to kill an unresisting opponent out of hand. She wouldn’t have been able to get information out of him that way.

She tried to ram the hilt of her knife into his solar plexus—but just before it connected, a sharp flash passed between the two of them.

Instantly sensing danger, Chané leaned back, defending with her knives.

The next moment, there was a ferocious clang, and the tip of the cross-shaped spear skimmed past her cheek.

Chané’s knives had caught the blades that stuck out on either side, keeping them from reaching her at the last moment.

However, the tip must have grazed her slightly: A faint red line ran across her cheek, and a moment later, blood seeped out like tears.

“……”

“Um… You suddenly attacked, so…I just…”

If Chané hadn’t leaned back, the spear would definitely have gone through her head. Even so, she didn’t break out in a cold sweat. She only glared at the enemy in front of her.

A cross-shaped spear that was easily taller than she was. A girl with a timid-looking face, who was brandishing that weapon as if it weighed nothing.

She couldn’t have been less natural, but even so, Chané quietly sized up her opponent.

She was gauging how she should move in order to defeat her efficiently.

At the same time, Adele was watching her new enemy as well.

She’d meant for that attack to hit home, but her opponent had almost completely avoided it. Apparently, the other woman was more skilled than she’d assumed.

Inwardly reaching that conclusion, Adele temporarily withdrew her spear and put some distance between them.

“Hey, Adele. Don’t kill her,” Tim said from behind her.

Adele responded without turning back, in a voice that was exactly the same as it had been a moment before, “A-all right… Only… She’s strong, so it may be hard to hold back…”

As she murmured, a different thought rose in her mind.

Jet-black hair and gold eyes… She looks like Master Huey—

When, thinking this, she quietly retracted her spear…

From farther back in the hallway, a third person’s voice rang out: “Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! It looks like you’re doing something fun there, amigas!”

“…Who’s that?”

The mansion’s thugs and the members of Larva turned to look at the Mexican girl who’d abruptly appeared.

“Friend of yours, Donny?”

Someone checked with the hoodlum who was also from Mexico, but after giving it a little thought, the big, brown-skinned man shook his head as if to say he didn’t know her.

Paying no attention to the atmosphere in the mansion, Maria started down the hall with nimble steps, holding her drawn katanas at the ready.

“This place sure is big! I got a little lost trying to get here, amigos!”

She was speaking at the same tempo, but the rhythm with which she moved her feet was gradually increasing.

Adele was quietly monitoring the situation, while Chané was directing murderous glares at Maria and the members of Larva by turns.

Just as Maria was about to leap to a spot halfway between Chané and Adele—

Ting ting Ting Ting ting ting

The doorbell…

For the third time that day, the doorbell echoed through the second Genoard residence.

In contrast to Isaac and Miria’s ring, this one seemed quite laid-back.

At the sound of the bell, which reverberated through the entire mansion, the entrance hall went so quiet that time seemed to have stopped.

“What is it now…?”

Nice braced herself, face tense, wondering what sort of dangerous thing would present itself this time. Her hand had gone to her waist, and her fingers were clenched around a cylindrical object that was attached to the side of her belt.

Tim, Adele, Chané, Maria, Isaac, Miria, the young thugs, and even the members of Larva, who hadn’t moved at all for the past few minutes—Everyone watched the door and waited, holding their breath, for the intruder to walk into this tense situation.

However…

“Um… Helloooo.”

What came in through the slowly opening door was a lazy-sounding voice and a good-natured young man who wore an innocent smile.

The man took a look around at the situation inside the mansion, and his eyes stopped on Maria, who’d frozen with her katanas in her hands. He spoke, sounding troubled.

“Mariaaa. I tooold you, you aren’t s’posed to fight. Keith’s gonna get mad at youuu.”

The words had been spoken in a childish tone, but at the name “Keith,” Maria’s back flinched. She hemmed and muttered for a while, and then:

“…All right, Tick. I don’t want Keith to hate me.”

Muttering reluctantly, she returned her swords to the sheaths at her waist with twin clinks.

“……”

Tim gazed at Tick for a few moments. Then he turned back to Adele and the others and jerked his chin, signaling for them to go outside.

“It looks like they’re busy today. Give Mr. Jacuzzi our regards when he wakes up. We’ll stop by again tomorrow, or—”

“Oh, wait, waaait.”

As Tim was saying his good-byes to Nice, Tick hastily flagged him down.

“…What?”

“Um, ummm, listen. If you have business with Jacuzzi and his friends, we’ll wait. You should get your business settled fiiirst.”

“……?”

Not understanding what Tick was saying, Tim and the other members of Larva watched him coldly, waiting for him to go on.

Deflecting the frigid gazes with a smile, Tick spoke without a shred of hesitation.

“Um, seeee, depending on how our discussion goooes, Jacuzzi’s group might not be around much looonger.”

“Huh?”

Nice, who’d been listening in the hallway, made an indistinct noise.

The thugs also glanced at one another, then turned their eyes on Tick, looking as if they were watching some strange life-form.

“What does that m—?”

Just as Nice started to ask the mysterious guest a question…

Ding-dingDing-dingDing-ding-ding

The fourth time.

Counting from when Isaac and Miria had arrived, the doorbell rang for the fourth time that day.

“…What’s the matter with today, anyway?”

Quietly, Nice’s shoulders slumped. She sounded half-resigned and half-afraid.

Chané had tried to use the doorbell as an opportunity to move, but Adele wasn’t giving her any openings, and their deadlock held.

On the other hand, there were people whose voices didn’t hold a shred of tension.

“Ooh, Isaac! There are all sorts of visitors today!”

“I bet they’re all coming to see the magic show! Or maybe this one’s a new entertainer?”

Isaac and Miria seemed to think this entire situation was part of the entertainment, and they’d mistaken Chané and Maria for street performers of some sort.

As a matter of fact, Isaac and Miria had been on the train with Chané during that train robbery, but they’d only caught a glimpse of her group before boarding, and in the end, they hadn’t run into each other at all before their arrival in New York.

After the doorbell had rung a few times, whoever was standing outside fell silent, as if waiting for the people inside to respond.

Of course, this was the natural thing to do: Tick, who’d just opened the door, and Isaac and Miria, who’d kept leaning on the bell, were the ones who’d been lacking in common sense.

However… No matter how long they waited, there was no reaction from the people in the mansion.

As if they’d tired of waiting, the sound of the doorbell filtered in again.

Even then, nobody moved, and from outside, faintly, they heard a woman’s voice: “Could they be out…?”

“…A woman?”

Irritated by the static situation, Tim signaled to a Larva member with his chin.

The slender, dandyish man he’d glanced at nodded wordlessly, walked over to the door, and opened it.

From behind it: A pretty girl in a black suit appeared.

“Oh, good afternoon…?!”

On being shown in and registering the scene in the entrance hall, the woman caught her breath.

Nearly thirty people were gathered in the magnificent interior. Most of them were thugs and hoodlums who looked out of place in the mansion, and on top of that, women holding spears and knives stood at the center of the group. Anyone with normal nerves would have been startled.

She’s ordinary.

That was what most of them thought when they saw the girl in the suit. In this era, it was incredibly unusual for women to wear suits, but aside from that, she probably looked normal.

As she scanned the room, which was filled with abnormal individuals, the woman in the suit spotted a couple of familiar faces. They were looking back at her and waving.

“Heeeey, Ennis, here, over here!”

“Wow, Ennis came to see the magic show, too!”

“Isaac! Miria! …Magic?”

On seeing the couple, Ennis smiled as if she was relieved, but she still hadn’t managed to process the situation. She turned back toward the open door, as if looking for help.

“Huh?”

Just then—the ornate door opened even wider, and a man in a trench coat appeared from behind it.

…And time stopped.

In the past ten minutes or so, the atmosphere in the place had already frozen several times.

However, this time, the level was completely different.

Frozen didn’t begin to describe it.

Stasis.

Perfect stasis.

The last man to appear had stolen not the air in the mansion, but time itself, as if he’d negated its passage up till that point.

It wasn’t as if he’d done anything special. He’d just shown up.

He was a young man with sharp eyes, and everything—his expression, his gestures, the way he walked—exuded an extraordinary aura of intimidation. He was clearly not an honest citizen.

Outwardly, he looked no different from an ordinary human.

However…when he appeared, the air in the room froze instantly.

The young punks had been grinning foolishly, unable to process the situation, but when they saw that man, they seemed to pick up some sort of danger signal: Their eyes all sharpened, and their muscles tensed.

Adele, Chané, and Maria stared wide-eyed at the sudden intruder as well.

For just a moment, Adele’s attention left Chané completely, but Chané’s attention was also riveted on the man, and she couldn’t move.

Before Maria was aware of it, her fingers were on her sheathed swords, poised to draw.

This is bad, really bad! This guy’s bad news, amigo!

In the same way, the members of Larva had also lost their sense of time to the abrupt visitor.

What’s up? What’s with this guy?

All he’s doing is standing by the door. He’s just standing there, and yet… Why is he so…?!

Tim, who’d seemed completely at ease up until now, looked mystified for the first time and fell silent.

Looking unsatisfied by this state of affairs, but as if it were only to be expected…

Chiamatore Ronny Schiatto stepped inside.

He was a bona fide presence.

A being that had been born from darkness, breathed darkness, and had always lived in darkness.

A something else in human shape that encapsulated the presence of the mafia, or rather, of the entire underworld: Those were the sort of airs the man put on.

A lone entity that wasn’t a thug like Jacuzzi’s friends, or something enigmatic like Tim and Adele, or scum like Dallas.

No mere mafioso could have radiated such an alien feeling of pressure. What they felt from this final visitor to the mansion was something chaotic, a mixture of all sorts of other things—a presence that seemed almost inhuman.

However, within the time that had been stopped by that presence, there were exceptions: individuals whose own time was continuing to tick by.

So this is how impressive Ronny can be when he’s working…

Right now, the man she had seen in Alveare, the one who was good at looking after others, was nowhere to be seen. Ronny looked completely different from who he was when he acted as Firo’s knife instructor.

Ennis had never seen Ronny be imposing before, and even as it overwhelmed her, since she did know what he was usually like, she was managing to stay calm.

Isaac and Miria were smiling at Ronny, not seeming particularly bothered.

“Hey, Ronny, you’re here, too? Hmm. Firo’s not, is he?”

“These people are doing amazing magic tricks! You come and watch, too, Ronny!”

“?! You know him?!”

Nice spoke up, sounding startled. Isaac and Miria didn’t seem to have noticed; they kept waving at Ronny, their faces ingenuous.

Aside from them and the people who were unconscious, only one other person was staying calm.

Tick, who’d been spacing out just inside the door, looked at Ronny and started talking to him in an easygoing way.

“Wooow, Mr. Ronny, I didn’t think you’d come in perrrson.”

Tick’s comment completely failed to read the mood, and Ronny answered him without letting his atmosphere of domination flicker.

“I always do this sort of job, no matter how small the other party is… Still, to think they’d send their outfit’s best torture fiend… The Gandors are being admirably direct, too.”

On hearing the pair greet each other, Jacuzzi’s friends’ expressions changed. Their attention came to focus on one noun.

“…The Gandors?”

“Did he just say Gandors?”

“That and something about a torture fiend…”

“What, this smiley guy?”

“Nah, couldn’t be.”

The Gandors were the mafia syndicate that ran the area where Jacuzzi’s friends “worked,” and although they hadn’t attempted any sort of contact before now, the relationship between the two groups was technically a hostile one.

The murmur gradually grew. At that point, realizing who the others—or at least, Tick and Ronny—actually were, Nice hastily crouched down by Jacuzzi.

He was still out cold, and she began shaking him desperately, trying to wake him.

“Jacuzzi. Jacuzzi!”

“This doesn’t look good.”

Jon, who’d picked up on the atmosphere, ran over to them. Jacuzzi’s eyes had rolled back in his head, but Jon hooked his arms under Jacuzzi’s and pulled him up into a sitting position.

The punks had turned intense, focused gazes on Tick and Ronny. The members of Tim’s group, Larva, had relocated to either side of the entryway and were watching the situation play out. Isaac and Miria were waiting for the rest of the “magic show,” their faces brimming with curiosity, and the three girls who held blades had tense gazes trained on their respective enemies.

In this room, nearly thirty people were on the verge of drowning in the waves of their own confusion. Striding elegantly through those waves, Ronny spoke, as if he were the ruler of that space.

“This seems like a fairly complicated situation… Well, never mind.”

Stopping in the center of the entrance hall, about a yard in front of Jacuzzi and Nice, he made a declaration to the assembled crowd.

“I am here as a messenger from the Martillo Family, as negotiator, judge, executor, and—as a witness to all that is about to occur.”

His tone was heavy and solemn, as if it had been designed to crush human spirits.

“The Gandor members and I understand our reasons for coming here best. I trust that you understand them very nearly as well. After all, in this industry, trust is important. When you offer a hand, you trust in the other party’s strength and honesty, and when you sink a fist into them, you trust in their weakness and sin. We do these things over and over again.”

What he said was so portentous that it sounded theatrical. However, in combination with the character that hung around the man, his words became definite power that dominated the mansion’s thugs.

“Well? Which will you choose? What card will you play with me? Will it be friendship or hostility? Depending on your answer, I will hand down a judgment on your past, and that will determine your present and the future that awaits you.”

He finished speaking, and as silence fell temporarily…in Jon’s arms, Jacuzzi woke from his short sleep and groaned.

“Ungh… Huh, wha, I…”

“Hey, Jacuzzi, you awake?”

“Oh, good… Although I’m afraid this isn’t the time to be saying that.”

“Huh?”

Getting to his feet without help, Jacuzzi saw the cold sweat that was trickling down Nice’s cheeks, then took in the situation in the entrance hall.

“Huh…? Are there more people in here now? And, um, huh? Wh-what about the blood?! What about that guy?!”

Remembering what he’d seen right before he passed out, Jacuzzi looked at his sweetheart with eyes that seemed to be seeking an explanation.

In response, Nice pragmatically gave him a bare-bones outline, looking as if she didn’t feel convinced, either.

“The man who was run through with the spear healed up as if nothing had happened. And then…Chané and the woman with the spear started to fight, and then a strange woman with swords showed up, and—listen, Jacuzzi, this is the most important part.”

Drawing in a deep breath, she calmly told him the facts.

“People from the Gandors and the Martillos are here, and they say they want to talk to us.”

“……Huh?”

At Nice’s words, Jacuzzi took another look at the people in the entrance hall.

One of them, Ronny, had a quality that marked him as someone who clearly wasn’t a decent person, and when Jacuzzi spotted him, his consciousness started to fade out again.

N-no, no, I can’t. I have to get it together!

Managing to head off the fainting spell at the last second, Jacuzzi quietly sorted the situation out.

Telling himself that the first thing he had to do was secure his friends’ safety, he slowly turned back to face Ronny.

Think. Think. What’s the least risky way out of this situation?

“Say, Miria? Why did Ronny start saying complicated stuff all of a sudden?”

“Maybe he’s in a bad mood…?”

In contrast to Jacuzzi, who was steeling himself, Isaac and Miria were having a conversation that completely failed to register the atmosphere.

“Oh, right. Seeing Ronny reminded me.”

“Of what?”

“Remember how we were talking about stealing Firo’s special things?”

“Uh-huh.”

Isaac had lowered his voice to a whisper, and as Miria responded, her expression was serious.

“Ronny’s Firo’s boss and his knife teacher, right?”

“Yes, his sensei!”

After thinking for a little while, Isaac murmured, as if he was looking for agreement.

“Listen, Miria.”

“Hmm?”

“Ronny and Ennis… To Firo, they’re both…”

When she’d heard that much, Miria realized what Isaac was getting at, and she cried out happily.

“…Special!”

I want to cut.

There are crowds of tough-looking people here. Tons of people that look hard to cut.

The knife girl in front of me, and the spear girl; it looks like she wounded the first girl.

And the man who showed up last, that Ronny guy from the Martillo Family.

How fantastic is this?! Look at all these people who are completely worth cutting!

In the midst of this tense space, Maria felt heat welling up inside her.

She didn’t want to know whether she was the strongest one here.

She already believed that; she was convinced that she was the strongest person present.

Maria just wanted to make sure.

To confirm her true skills, to confirm the power that lurked in her blades.

And in simpler terms: She wanted to cut.

There was no need for excessive logic. It all boiled down to that one phrase.

It was what she’d done up until now. Whenever someone had asked her to kill a strong hitman or mafioso, she’d smiled cheerfully, drawn her swords, and slashed through the target’s flesh, their bones, and even their life.

She cut because she wanted to cut. She’d been able to cut, and to survive, on that reason alone.

As far as she was concerned, cutting because it was her job came second. She took jobs as a contract killer just to make a living, to keep herself fed from day to day. It let her combine pleasure and profit; she hadn’t thought any other job would make as much sense.

The one and only time she’d failed was when she’d taken that request to kill Vino.

In the end, she hadn’t managed to inflict a single cut on him, and he’d mopped the floor with her.

But I could win now.

She had no grounds for that belief, but she’d secretly continued to think it, and she’d been waiting for the day when somebody would ask her to kill Vino again.

Today, she might get to go all out for the first time in ages. She might get to cut people. She’d get to show off her own strength, Murasámia’s strength. She’d be able to believe in her own strength.

She had the perfect opponents for it, right here. And there were so many of them!

Holding back the tension that was flooding her, she’d been quietly monitoring the breathing of the people in front of her.

She was watching for a chance, the mere opportunity to cut people.

Faster than anyone, stronger than anyone.

In order to live more keenly than anyone else.

With that resolution in her heart, the woman who had dedicated her whole life to her Japanese swords—no, to “cutting”—quietly narrowed her eyes.

Her heart shone like her blades.

Chané was sizing up the enemy.

The later visitors seemed to be uninvited guests as far as Jacuzzi’s group was concerned.

There was also a large possibility that the woman with the spear and her companions were her father’s enemies.

Which should she fight?

However…it wasn’t as though either group was beyond a shadow of a doubt her enemy.

She couldn’t begin to predict what actions the people who had come later would take, and the same went for the woman with the Japanese swords.

Everything would have to wait until they made a move.

What she did would depend entirely on the actions that were about to occur in this space. She couldn’t let that moment slip past unnoticed. In order to achieve her goal faster and more accurately than anyone else…

Chané narrowed her eyes, quietly continuing to read the people around her.

Tim, Adele, and the other members of Larva still hadn’t moved from where they stood.

At this point, they were probably the closest thing to “outsiders” present. There was a nutty-looking couple who were yelling about magic tricks and things, but in this situation, their group had the fewest points of contact with the others.

…But if that was the case, why had the woman with the knives tried to slash at them?

They didn’t understand her intentions. On top of that, both Tim and Adele seemed to recognize her from somewhere.

Did the fact that she was hostile to them have something to do with that? If they found out who she was, it might all make sense, but this was a terrible time and place for calming down and trying to remember.

Either way, for now, it was probably best if they avoided making any moves.

On that thought, they began to quietly monitor the situation.

“Hmm? Why is everybody just standing arouuund?”

Tick, who hadn’t noticed the atmosphere, spoke in laid-back tones. But even then, the people around him didn’t move.

Isaac and Miria were whispering to each other about something, and Ronny was silent, waiting for Jacuzzi and his friends to respond. Everybody else was keeping an eye on the situation, their faces tense.

Time had stopped.

Ronny’s entrance had drained all temperature from everything.

Just when it seemed as if the standoff might last forever—

The one individual with the ability to set the situation moving again slowly began to get up.

“Gwaah… Dammit… Damn it to hell, you maggots… I swear I’m gonna murder you…”

The man who’d been on the ground beside Tim lifted his head, muttering in a bitter, angry voice.

“It was fuzzy, but…I heard that… You sonuva… You seriously pulled me into your group just for this, just so you could use me as a prop in your sales demo…?”

He didn’t seem to have recovered from the shock of getting killed yet; he was breathing roughly in the spaces between his words.

“That too. That wasn’t the only reason, though.”

“Bastard…!”

Dallas made a grab for Tim’s shirtfront…then finally realized that the situation around them was strange.

“…? What?”

Everyone looked tense, and even though Dallas had gotten up, they were ignoring him. It was as if they didn’t even see him.

“What happened?”

Looking around in an attempt to get a handle on the situation, he realized that one solitary person was watching him. It was the slim woman in the suit. Ennis.

Ennis was examining the face of the man who’d been on the ground until just a moment ago. She looked as if she was thinking hard, trying to remember something. For his part, when Dallas saw the woman’s face, he felt, very intensely, that something was off.

After a brief silence…Ennis was the one who remembered first.

“Dallas…?”

The moment she said the name, her doubt changed to certainty.

I remember. I knew it—back then, three years ago…!

Back when she’d still been part of Szilard Quates, due to a variety of circumstances, they’d ended up using several thugs as pawns. This was the guy who’d been their leader, the guy who, in the end, had betrayed them and had filled her and Firo full of lead.

Ennis didn’t know what had happened after that. The one thing she knew for sure was that that man was here, right in front of her, right now.

The moment Ennis said his name, Dallas also remembered, quite clearly, who she was.

“You little…”

And then—time began to move again with a vengeance.

It sped with the force of crashing waves or an avalanche, as if it were trying to make up for the time it had spent standing still.

“Huh?”

Recognizing Ennis, Dallas immediately scanned his surroundings, then broke into a run, headed straight for Tick.

“Gimme!”

Tick had several pairs of sharp, gleaming silver scissors at his waist.

Dallas was going for the most accessible weapon around.

Leaping at Tick like a starving stray dog, Dallas snatched a pair of scissors out of his belt.

“Wah…”

With a fuzzy little cry, Tick fell over backward and landed on his rear.

Paying no attention to him, Dallas promptly turned on his heel and began charging at Ennis.

However—someone grabbed his hand from behind, and he stalled massively.

When he turned back with murder in his eyes, there was Tick, still sitting on his can, one hand clenched around Dallas’s wrist.

“Don’t.”

Gazing at Dallas with sad eyes, Tick spoke in a voice that didn’t seem to hold the slightest hint of fear.

“Give me back my scissors.”

“Shaddup! Lemme go, moron!”

Dallas tried to shake him off by brute force, but Tick was stronger than he’d thought, and he wasn’t able to tear his hand away easily.

“Don’t use those scissors in hate or malice!”

Speaking as if he could see right through him, Tick protested, and his words were unusually adamant.

“You…”

Dallas raised the stolen scissors high, then brought them down, intending to stab them into the back of the hand Tick had on his arm—

—and his right hand flew all the way to the wall.

Splat.

With the sound of a moist collision, Dallas’s hand struck the wall behind Tick. However, everything below the wrist was gone, and red blood was trickling from the hand, which still held the scissors.

“Uh…?”

Dallas made a short, stunned noise. Then he realized that his right hand had disappeared from the wrist up, and that blood was spurting from it with a soft hissing noise.

“GaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAaaaaah!”

The moment he registered what had happened to his arm, ferocious pain assaulted his brain.

As he screamed like a strangled goose, the person who’d cut off his hand spoke cheerfully.

“I had no choice that time, amigo!”

Giving Tick a little wink, Maria tapped her shoulder with the back of her katana’s blade.

“Remember what I told you? I promised you wouldn’t get hurt!”

Laughing quietly, Maria glanced at Dallas, who she assumed would still be bleeding—and froze.

The blood that had been spurting energetically from his wrist was beginning to flow back into it.

While no one was looking, the hand that had struck the wall had rolled back to the man’s feet. It wriggled, as if it were being manipulated by the blood inside it, and the scissors it held slipped free and fell to the floor. A gluey string of blood stretched from the cut surface of the wrist, inserting its end into Dallas’s arm, and as the strands of blood pulled each other closer, the hand rose from the ground into the air.

In the next instant, the cut surfaces collided with the speed of magnets, and not only was there no sign that Dallas’s arm had ever been severed, not a single scratch remained.

The pain seemed to have disappeared once he regenerated. As Dallas’s harsh breathing quieted, he turned a murderous glare on Maria.

“Gahk… Ah… AAaaaAAAaaaAAh! Bitch…!”

His body, which she knew she’d cut, had regenerated as if nothing had happened.

Maria hadn’t seen the “magic trick” earlier, and so she looked Dallas up and down with startled eyes, and then…

“Aha!”

The next moment, as if she were a child who’d discovered a new toy, a guileless smile appeared on her face.

“Wow, how neat is that?! You’re made just like my bosses, amigo!

At Maria’s casual comment, several people showed conspicuous reactions.

The members of Larva, who hadn’t looked alarmed even when somebody’s hand had flown off right in front of them, frowned openly at her words, and their eyes widened.

“…What did you just say?”

Tim murmured quietly, but Maria didn’t seem to hear; she’d happily leveled her Japanese swords and was swaying on her feet.

From the things she’d said and done before now, she seemed to be affiliated with the Gandor Family.

According to the things they’d heard from the information broker and Dallas, it sounded as though the three brothers who ran the Gandor Family were immortals as well. However, since that particular news didn’t seem to have gotten around at all, they’d assumed that it was being kept completely under wraps…

“So they’re not keeping quiet about it? That’s insane…”

Even they didn’t know exactly who had become immortal during that incident three years ago. All they knew was that Firo Prochainezo, who was believed to have “eaten” Szilard, and the three Gandor brothers, who were supposed to have been shot dead by Dallas, were immortal. From what the information broker said, there were others who had become immortal, but apparently, they hadn’t shelled out enough to learn about them.

When Tim glanced at Maria, mystified, she was smiling cheerfully and was in the very act of bringing down her katana.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! This is great! No matter how many times I cut you, you go right back!”

Dallas lunged at her, and Maria sent a silver flash at him.

Soundlessly, Dallas’s foot was lopped off at the ankle, and he pitched forward.

However, his ankle began to regenerate right away, and the blood and the wound writhed as if they were moving in time to Dallas’s scream.

“Wh-wh-what is that?! What is that?!”

On seeing it happen, Jacuzzi gave a piercing shriek. Since the other punks had seen it before, they weren’t as disturbed. However, gradually, everyone in the mansion was beginning to avert their eyes from the grotesque situation that had been unfolding for the past few minutes.

Turning an artless smile on Dallas, who’d finished regenerating, Maria said something very unsafe, sounding thoroughly entertained.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! No good, it’s no good, amigo! As long as your wounds heal up, I’ll cut you again and again! I’ll slice you! Over and over and over, every time you stand up, I’ll cut you and cut you and cut you and cut you and cut you and cut you and make you regret—”

The blade slashed through space, and Dallas’s left hand flew off.

“—that you ever became immortal, amigo!”

“Not good.”

As he watched the gruesome scene, Tim muttered to himself.

They’d been using the easy bait of “immortality” in order to recruit disposable pawns who would work for them. However, the torment that was being inflicted on Dallas right in front of them—in which he’d be better off dead but was regenerating again and again whether he wanted to—might make immortality lose its attraction. Above all else, Tim wanted to avoid that.

Glancing at Adele, who was facing off with Chané, he whispered an order to her.

“Adele. Stop the samurai girl.”

“…Y-yessir.”

Even as she responded, the girl who’d been holding her spear at the ready had begun to move.

The blades at the tip of her cross-shaped spear drew a large circle, bearing down on Maria’s shoulder as she turned.

“Whoa?!”

However, Maria had registered the motion a moment sooner, and she drew her second katana, catching it with the tip.

She’d escaped being slashed by a hairsbreadth, but the overwhelming impact of the spear’s momentum ran through her entire body.

“Whoa, whoa!”

In spite of herself, she shifted her weight back, then tumbled backward energetically.

Her slender body rolled nimbly, and no sooner had she righted herself than she flew at the spear user.

From a stance so low she was practically crawling, she sent her blade at Adele’s chest with the speed of a bullet.

But Adele had seen her coming.

Swinging the spear tip in an arc so that it pointed in her direction, she struck at Maria with the butt of its shaft, which had swung around to take its place.

The spear’s simply decorated ferrule rushed toward Maria’s face.

Maria swung her sword to strike it away, but just then, Adele took a big leap back.

A feint?!

Maria’s eyes widened in shock.

The murderous intent she’d felt just now had been genuine. That thrust really had been aimed right between her eyes.

However, when her muscles had begun to move in order to deflect it, the girl had instantly given up on the thrust and thrown herself backward. She’d seen Maria’s movements and had changed her fighting style in real time.

The fact that she was able to make a snap decision like that convinced Maria that this woman was incredibly skilled.

Temporarily taking some distance, Maria looked at her opponent again.

In terms of body build, she was about the same as Maria herself. Maria fought with two swords, while Adele used one very long spear. In terms of weight, they were about the same: Both were using weapons whose weight didn’t seem appropriate for their builds.

Adele’s expression was perpetually timid, but there wasn’t the slightest hesitation in the sharpness with which she wielded that spear.

“…I’ve never fought a spear before! This is real exciting, amiga!”

Leveling both her swords again, Maria flashed a taunting smile at Adele.

However, changing neither her expression nor her stance, Adele murmured apologetically:

“That’s…a lie, isn’t it?”

“……”

Maria’s smile vanished.

“What do you mean, amiga?”

“You’re only pretending to be excited.”

Adele spoke to Maria quietly, watching her with eyes like a frightened puppy’s.

“You may actually have been excited up until a little while ago. But…when we clashed, just now…you started to feel uncertain, didn’t you? ‘She may be stronger than me,’ you thought.”

“…What are you talking about? There’s no way I’d—”

Maria snorted, attempting to deny it, but Adele talked right over her.

“And so you’re bluffing like that, trying to convince yourself. Aren’t you? That you’re absolutely stronger than me, that your sword will definitely be able to cut me…”

“……”

In response to Adele’s statement, Maria glared at her silently.

“Please don’t worry. In terms of simple ability to kill, you’re, um, at least twice as skilled as I am…”

After saying something that sounded like empty consolation, Adele went on, her expression still unchanged.

“But…did you know? In order to defeat a spear with a sword or katana—”

Instantly, a blade materialized right in front of Maria.

“—I’m told you have to be three times stronger than your opponent… Mm-hmm.”

From a great distance away, Adele thrust forward in a straight line. That was all she’d done.

However, as the attack bore down on Maria, it turned into greater pressure than she’d expected.

Before she was aware of it, she’d been drawn into the way Adele spoke.

Maria synchronized her words, mood, speed, and everything else to her body’s rhythm, and the rhythm of Adele’s spirit and movements was nearly the polar opposite of her own.

Her nervous attitude and timid expression definitely weren’t an act. However, her movements were faster and sharper than anyone could have imagined from her surface behavior.

The thrust had an edge to it that froze the hearts of anyone who saw it, and it bore down on Maria, riding a silver blade.

“…Ghk!”

For the first time, Maria gave a frustrated grunt and brought both of her katanas around to guard, attempting to block the tip of the approaching spear.

However—the moment she moved, Adele’s eyes lit up as if she’d been waiting for that.

Shifting her wrists slightly, in a flowing motion, she rolled the spear tip, which had been parallel with the floor, so that it stood perpendicularly.

“?!”

The three-bladed, cross-shaped tip spun like a windmill, slipping past Maria’s swords—

And the next moment, a spray of bright blood danced in the entrance hall.

Unlike the other dark-red liquid that had been shed there earlier…

…no matter how much time passed, it made no attempt to return to its host.

“Hey, what’s going on here?!”

“What the heck are they, anyway?!”

“Jacuzzi, you loser, do something!”

“Hya-haah.”

Dallas’s actions a few moments earlier had plunged the entrance hall into deep confusion.

When the women had suddenly begun slashing at each other, the punks had moved back, forming a circle around them at a distance. Even so, no one flat-out cut and ran, and their gazes were gradually coming to focus on their leader, Jacuzzi.

Jacuzzi looked as if he had no idea what was going on. He murmured complaints as if he were talking to himself:

“I’m begging you, do that somewhere else…”

Chané had taken a step back from Maria and Adele when they began slashing at each other and was standing guard in a spot where she could protect Jacuzzi and Nice.

“Aaaah, Ch-Chané… You’re bleeding… Are you okay?”

Jacuzzi sounded worried about the cut on her cheek, and Chané nodded wordlessly.

Jacuzzi exhaled, relieved, and just then, a low voice spoke behind him.

“The situation has grown rather chaotic…”

Flinching, Jacuzzi turned around. The Martillo Family messenger was standing there, his eyes narrowed.

“—Ghk!”

“When did he—?!”

Jacuzzi and the others were startled, but Ronny ignored them, calmly stating his own business instead.

“Well, never mind. You were unconscious, so I’ll say it one more time for you: You already know why I’ve come here, don’t you?”

“……”

“The details can wait. For now, just give me a simple answer. In short…will you be our syndicate’s enemies, or will you pledge allegiance to us?”

His tone brooked no argument, and Jacuzzi’s face twisted as if he was going to cry, but…shaking his head fiercely and psyching himself up, he mustered his courage and spoke to the man with the overwhelming aura.

“…We won’t be your enemies.”

“Oho…”

Ronny’s eyes seemed to say, But that isn’t all, is it? and Jacuzzi quietly clarified what he meant.

“Only…we won’t be subordinate to you, either.”

The young tattooed guy had given his conclusion before anything else, and Ronny smiled faintly.

Gazing silently into Jacuzzi’s eyes, he decided to ask why he’d chosen that particular conclusion.

“We’ve…had friends killed by the mafia. And so…no matter what, as long as we exist as ourselves, we can’t join a mafia syndicate.”

Jacuzzi’s voice wasn’t trembling anymore.

On hearing that resolution, Nice, Jon, and several of the other young punks who’d been nearby nodded in agreement.

“I see.”

Ronny looked Jacuzzi’s group over as if they interested him. And then he said something odd.

“You seemed as if you were going to cry a moment ago, and yet now you wear the face of a warrior. Your companions appeared to be a loose collection of individuals, but at some point, they came together as if they were one living creature. Hmm… The fact that, occasionally, people like you exist is what makes humanity interesting… Well, never mind.”

Speaking as if he himself wasn’t human, Ronny went on with what he’d been saying earlier.

“I acknowledge the conclusion you’ve reached. However, it’s asking a bit too much. You understand that, don’t you?”

They wouldn’t be their enemies, and they wouldn’t be their allies. In other words, they wanted their groups to have nothing to do with each other, just as before.

However, if they left things at that, there would have been no point in him or Tick coming here.

Tensing his lips, which had relaxed a bit, Ronny looked around.

The two women were still slashing at each other, and the clangs that rang out from time to time reached everyone’s ears equally.

“Well, never mind… Before we get into the details, I’ll eliminate the distractions for you.”

“Huh…?”

Jacuzzi sounded bewildered. Ignoring him, Ronny turned on his heel and started toward the two women, whose blades were clashing fiercely.

Heading for the heart of the storm of blood and flying blades, he took a step, just as if he were starting across a crosswalk.

…And time in the mansion stopped again.

In Alveare

“By the way…where did Ronny go today?”

The young executive’s question was directed at Maiza, his superior.

Firo’s coffee cup was long empty. The outlaws who’d gathered in the restaurant were currently spending their afternoon breaks in their own ways.

Maiza, who had been adding sugar to his third cup of coffee next to Firo, answered his question impassively.

“Well, there are some people who’ve been doing business in our territory without permission.”

“…Oh, the weird kids with Chicago accents who’ve been hanging around here since last year?”

“That’s right. We’ve ignored them up until now, but Prohibition is ending, and since we’ll be opening new lines of business, we need to do a little housecleaning. Ronny went to negotiate with those newcomers.”

“By himself?”

Looking a little surprised, Firo questioned him further.

“He always does that, doesn’t he? In the three years since I made executive, I’ve found out a few things about the work Ronny does. Whenever it looks like there might be a fight, he always goes. He’s always alone, too.”

“Yes, for the most part.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, I know exactly what sort of knife skills he’s got, and I know he drank the liquor and turned immortal with the rest of us, but…”

“Ha-ha. Firo, you’ve got one thing wrong.”

At Firo’s words, Maiza’s mild face softened further in a smile.

“What thing?”

“I thought you’d caught on long ago, since you have Szilard’s memories, but… I suppose he didn’t remember people’s faces. That may be particularly true if the individual isn’t a person.”

“What are you talking about? It’s great that it all makes sense to you, but fill me in, too, all right?”

Feeling as if he’d gotten left in the dust by himself, Firo snapped at his superior, looking cross.

However, Maiza ducked the younger man’s words with a smile.

“Well, when the time is right, I’m sure he’ll tell you himself. Besides, no matter what else he may be, Ronny is Ronny.”

“I don’t get it at all… Tch.”

Firo stretched hugely, then let his eyes drift to the restaurant window and the sky beyond it. Watching the darkening clouds, he murmured, and his voice sounded a little lonely.

“…It looks like it’s gonna rain.”

It’s a lie.

This can’t be true.

I don’t believe it, won’t believe it.

I know I can cut her—I know I can.

My katana, Murasámia, can cut this woman, no question.

If I can just reach her, if my blade gets even a little close to her—

But it won’t reach.

The blade won’t reach that woman.

No, it’s okay.

It’ll get there.

It’ll reach her.

If I reach her, I can cut her. I can beat this lady.

Just believe. I can do this.

I can reach this woman with my blade.

I can slip past the tip of that spear and get right up close to her.

I believe it: My arms will reach this woman—

Blade clashed against blade, and the sharp clangs echoed continuously in the Genoard mansion.

Maria and Adele’s bout had already lasted several minutes. At first glance, it seemed like a brilliant match that wouldn’t be easily settled, but in fact, it was immediately clear which combatant had the disadvantage.

“Could we stop now? …This is, um…a waste of time…”

As she slashed with her spear, Adele spoke in a voice that was as bland as ever… Even though she’d been wielding a heavy spear in combat for a while now. She wasn’t the slightest bit out of breath.

“Shut up… Shut up, amiga! I won’t lose to somebody like you! I won’t, I absolutely will not lose!”

On the other hand, Maria was breathing hard, and all four of her limbs were stained red with blood.

They’d clashed with each other over and over in the past few minutes, but Maria was the only one who ever got hurt. Each time she turned her blades on the other woman, they were deflected by the spear, and if she tried to launch a surprise attack, Adele sensed it and put more distance between them than was necessary.

Although she’d tried everything she could think of, Maria hadn’t been able to shrink the space between them to something she was comfortable with.

However, her physical skills were impressive as well, and whenever her opponent loaded a thrust with genuine murderous intent, she evaded at the last moment.

Even so, the spear tip had grazed her arms and legs multiple times, and in terms of simple appearance, she seemed to be covered in wounds.

It was already clear which of them had the upper hand. Even so, there was still fire in Maria’s eyes.

It was down to its final flicker, on the point of burning out.

In an attempt to extinguish even those flames, Adele hit her with freezing words.

“You’re trying to negate your fear by believing, aren’t you?”

“…No.”

“But…um, believing is, erm… You’re just deluding yourself, you know.”

“I am not!”

Screaming her denial, Maria leaned forward slightly, swinging her blades even faster.

However, even though the attack had her full power behind it, it didn’t reach her opponent. Just before she got within striking distance, the shaft of the spear slammed into her—and at the same time, Adele slipped to the side, moving out of Maria’s line of attack.

If her weapon hadn’t been a spear, or if it had been just a little shorter…

But she fought with a spear.

“As proof—you’re already beginning to doubt.”

Adele smiled.

At that point, she smiled for the first time.

“Deep in your heart, you’re already doubting. You aren’t able to believe.”

It was the smile of someone who was sure she’d won.

“Or, actually… You’re on the verge of believing one thing, aren’t you?”

Her smile was filled with superiority. It was a smile of contempt for someone falling onto the path to defeat.

“You believe that you can’t defeat me… Or rather, you’re more skilled than I am, so it’s better to put it this way…”

Drawing the spear in her hands far back, Adele added one last remark:

“You believe that with those blades, you’ll never defeat this spear.”

“  !”

As if in denial of Adele’s words, Maria unleashed an emotion-driven attack.

The slash held more power and speed than any attack before it.

However, as a result, it left her just a little more vulnerable, and as if she’d been waiting for that, Adele’s eyes shone.

The tip of the spear lashed out in a straight line, heading for Maria’s heart in a lethal attack.

And—time stopped.

Wait. Don’t kill her.

At this point, it would be a bad idea to make the matter any bigger. On that thought, Tim tried to shout at Adele, but her attack had already picked up speed, and it didn’t seem possible to stop it now.

But the blade didn’t pierce Maria’s heart.

“?!”

Abruptly, Adele’s arms were released from the weight of the spear.

Tim, Adele herself, and the members of Larva—who had been watching events unfold expressionlessly up until that point—stared, their eyes wide with astonishment.

“The spear just…?!”

If the miracle that had occurred in this mansion a few moments earlier had been Dallas’s resurrection—then what had just happened to Adele was a disappearance.

When she’d thrust her cross-shaped spear at Maria, it had vanished right out of her hands like smoke.

“……—!”

Adele wasn’t the only one who was astonished. Maria was also reviewing what had happened to her with eyes that seemed to say she couldn’t believe it.

The spear that had been thrust at her had abruptly evaporated—and then her two beloved katanas had disappeared from her own hands as well.

The feel of the swords’ hilts had suddenly vanished from her palms, as if she’d been grasping smoke.

Unable to understand the situation, she fell to her knees right where she was.

“Why…?”

The confusion spread through the mansion like a contagion.

What on earth had happened? The ones with the most accurate grasp of the situation were Jacuzzi and the other bystanders.

“Wh-what…was that?”

However, even though they’d seen the whole thing from start to finish, comments like that were the best they could do.

What they’d seen had been extraordinarily simple, and for that very reason, they couldn’t believe it.

The man who’d called himself Ronny had walked, with no hesitation, into a space that was filled with flying blades—and the next moment, he’d been holding the spear in his right hand and the two Japanese swords in his left.

Had he used some sort of technique to swiftly snatch them away?

No.

Right before the spear and swords had appeared in his hands, the weapons had definitely been out of his reach.

However, the next instant, there they were, neatly in his hands. No matter how you looked at it, the sight was impossible.

Setting the three weapons he’d acquired on the floor, Ronny spoke, slowly shaking his head.

“…Would you keep it down?”

After directing those words at the stunned Maria and Adele, he turned and headed back to Jacuzzi and the others as if nothing had happened.

“Nice…”

Staring at the man who was walking toward them, Jacuzzi murmured in a voice so low that only his sweetheart, who was right beside him, could hear it.

“What…is that guy?”

Something was weird. He understood that instantly.

The man had done something that quite obviously ignored the laws of physics, and a terror that was different from what Jacuzzi had felt toward him a moment ago was welling up inside him.

This seemed to be true for Tim and the other members of Larva as well, and clear confusion was visible even in the faces of those who’d been watching the situation impassively a moment earlier.

“…Hey, Adele. What…just happened?”

“U-um, that’s…what I would like to know…”

The situation had grown completely incomprehensible, and everyone looked at one another. However, nobody seemed to understand what Ronny had just done, and not a single person tried to speak.

Just when a grave, eerie atmosphere had filled the entrance hall—

Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!

As if to sweep that atmosphere away, the sound of loud applause echoed through the mansion.

“Wow! Amazing, that was terrific! So you’re a magician, too, Ronny!”

“What’s this? Is today Magic Show Day at the mansion?!”

“The sword dance those dolls did earlier was also fantastic, really realistic. We chose the perfect time to visit.”

“Yes, it’s our lucky day!”

Apparently, Isaac and Miria had written off everything that had been happening for the past little while as a party at the mansion. The issues weren’t the sort that ordinary people would have been able to write off that way, but fortunately, their minds weren’t quite what one would call “ordinary.”

They’re a fun pair, as always.

The couple’s words had completely failed to mesh with the atmosphere, and Ronny smiled—but only faintly, so that no one else would notice.

Still clapping, Isaac and Miria walked up to Adele, who’d just retrieved her spear, and spoke to her sociably, even though they’d never met her before.

“Say, sister! That magic trick of yours was fantastic!”

“Yes, the human regeneration show!”

Isaac’s and Miria’s eyes were filled with respect and admiration, as if they were in the presence of a movie star.

However, ignoring what they said, Adele shifted her grip on her spear several times, then—

—thrust it forward forcefully, so that it slipped past Isaac.

“Ow?!”

The blade that extended from the side of the cross-shaped spear grazed Isaac’s finely shaped ear, and a small cut opened up in it.

“Waaaaaah! Isaac!”

Miria ran to him, looking worried, but Adele—the one who’d done the damage—was still gazing at her spear.

“There’s…no problem with it…is there…?”

Unable to just stand by and watch any longer, Tim spoke, trying to cover for Adele’s behavior.

“Do you get it now, pal? That was no magic trick—”

When he’d said about half of what he was planning to say, Isaac took his hand away from his ear, looking bewildered.

“Huh? …It doesn’t hurt.”

“Ooh! Isaac! That scratch isn’t there anymore!!”

“What?!”

The ones who were startled by those words were Tim, Adele, and the other members of Larva.

They could have sworn that Isaac’s ear had been wounded. However, there was no sign of a cut on that ear, and the blood he’d shed had neatly vanished from his palm as well.

“It can’t be…”

Looking as if she was seeing something unbelievable, Adele drew her spear back, preparing to thrust it at Isaac again, but…

Behind her, someone caught and held the shaft.

“…?”

When she looked back, the woman in the black suit was standing there, her face stern.

“…Apologize, please.”

“Huh?”

“Apologize to Isaac.”

Ennis pressed her, and her gaze was intense. Adele lowered her eyes as if troubled, then decided to shake off her opponent.

“I’m sorry… Um, you see, this really isn’t the time…”

Adele swiftly drew her spear back, and matching her move to that motion, Ennis darted around behind Adele.

“Apologize.”

“……”

The other woman had moved much more skillfully than she’d expected, and Adele quietly leveled her spear again, her eyes growing wary.

The air between the two grew tense.

As if to break up the mood, Isaac’s and Miria’s voices rang out.

“Oh, hang on, Ennis, hold up! You’ve got it all wrong; she just did a magic trick for us, that’s all!”

“Yes, it’s a magic show!”

The pair didn’t understand the situation, and Ennis tried to say something to them—but before she could, Adele spoke, frowning.

“Ennis… A member of the Martillos, and…Ennis? Um, could you possibly be…Szilard Quates’s—?”

“Huh…?”

The familiar, detestable word had come out of nowhere.

Why did this woman know Szilard’s name? Ennis stared at the girl, but just then their conversation was interrupted again, this time by a man’s groan.

“Gaaah…gahk…”

Behind them, Dallas, who’d been unconscious, was slowly starting to sit up.

“Ghk… You…stinking piles of…”

The seeds of even more conflict had appeared, and just when it seemed as though things had gotten entirely out of control—

“I’m sorry!”

Jacuzzi yelled in a voice that echoed through the whole mansion.

“L-listen! We’re only borrowing this house… We can’t have any more fighting in here!”

No duh, and also, it’s pretty late to bring that up.

Tim gave a mildly appalled smile—but in the next moment, his smile froze.

The woman with the eye patch and glasses who stood next to Jacuzzi had her hand raised, and there was something in it.

The things were bronze-colored cylinders. A black string stuck out of one end of each tube as if it were a candle—and the very tips of those strings were crackling audibly, scattering bright sparks.

“Ru…”

Tim immediately started to issue an order to his companions, but it was too late.

“I’m sorry, Ronny! As you can see, this really isn’t a good time, so we’ll talk later!”

As Jacuzzi shouted those words and turned on his heel, Nice tossed the cylindrical objects high into the entrance hall, where they scattered in midair.

And then—the sparks disappeared into the cylinders.

BoomBoomKa-boomBoom

Muffled explosions echoed, and the entrance hall was filled with white smoke.

Seeing this, Tim shouted from where he’d taken cover on the floor:

“A smoke screen?!”

His vision instantly went blank. Simultaneously, the mansion’s sluggish time began moving again all at once.

The young punks scattered from the mansion like rabbits, fleeing into Millionaires’ Row.

Chané was concerned about Tim and the others, and she hesitated, intending to stay behind. However, when she heard Jacuzzi yell, “Take care of everybody, please!” she left with painful reluctance.

“Don’t panic! Get over to the walls and follow them until you’re outside! Try not to breathe that smoke!”

After rapidly issuing orders to his companions, Tim got out of the mansion himself, staying low.

Just before the smoke screen spread completely, Tick found Maria, who was still kneeling on the floor, and took off running, pulling her with one hand and holding the two katanas in the other. Maria followed Tick, letting herself be tugged along, looking as if her spirit had abandoned her body.

The gray, murky smoke seeped out through the doors, blending nicely with the color of the sky, which was threatening to unleash rain any minute now.

It looked as though the entire mansion were wrapped in a rain cloud.

In an instant, like a nest whose rats had been smoked out of it, the once-crowded mansion lost almost every sign that humans had ever been present.

It was just like magic…

Even as his vision went completely white, Ronny walked on, not seeming the least bit flustered.

Realizing that he couldn’t sense Jacuzzi’s presence in the vicinity anymore, he murmured, smiling a little.

“Good grief… Impetuous, aren’t they? Well, never mind. I’ll try again tomo—”

Just then—someone caught Ronny’s right wrist firmly.

Ronny’s eyebrows twitched slightly, and in the midst of the smoke, he saw…