The Price of a Limb and the Weight of Secrets
Last week, a massive swarm of monsters appeared in the western border region. Fortunately, they were intercepted in time, preventing any major damage, but the carcasses of the monsters slain by the heroes still littered the area. Monsters are creatures born from Mana. While no one knew exactly how such a thing was possible, their bodies were composed entirely of that corrupting energy. Perhaps because of this, if left unattended, the corpses would decay and generate more Mana. If the concentration of that energy grew too high, it could potentially trigger the birth of new monsters, making the disposal of these carcasses a critical task.
John, an employee for a company contracted to handle such remains, sighed and plunged the needle of his syringe-like Magical Tool into a monster's corpse.
"Whew, I've been doing this for nearly a week now. Is it even possible for there to be this many left?"
As the needle pierced the body, the corpse—its decay accelerated by magic—dissolved into Mana. Like a vacuum cleaner, the tool sucked up the dispersing energy, sending it through a hose into the tank strapped to John’s back. The job of his subcontracting firm was to use these tools to collect the Mana before it could spread, which was then transported to the headquarters' purification facilities. John, who had been working tirelessly for days to clear the field before the bodies fully rotted, let out a frustrated groan.
"I’ve never been this busy in all my time doing this. Why the hell did these damn monsters suddenly start popping up like this?"
"At least we’re getting a fat bonus for it. Whenever I feel exhausted, I look at the money hitting my bank account and suddenly I’ve got energy again."
"I wouldn't be doing this crap if the pay wasn't good. It’s miserable enough that the public perception is terrible just because I work with corpses."
John scowled at his colleague’s mention of money. No matter that the targets were monsters, the job of processing corpses didn't exactly look good in the eyes of others. He had even hidden his line of work from his girlfriend of several years, only managing to confess about a month ago. Yet, the same girlfriend who had claimed she could love him regardless of his job suddenly brought it up yesterday. She said his personality seemed to have changed too much lately and suggested he take a break from work.
'In the end, she just doesn't like that I do this kind of work.'
The thought made him angry, and after a massive fight with her, even this job—which he had previously approached with a sense of duty—now felt like a repulsive chore. Feeling a sudden surge of heat in his chest, John jammed the needle into another carcass with unnecessary force. The body collapsed, the Mana was absorbed, and a red light began to blink on his tool, accompanied by a beep signaling that the storage tank was full.
"Looks like it's already full. I'm going to go swap it out."
John headed toward the company vehicle parked in the back to exchange the tank. A headquarters employee sat in the trunk, collecting full tanks from subcontractors like him and handing out fresh ones.
'Some of us are sweating buckets working among the corpses because we're subcontractors, while others get to sit there comfortably...'
The sight irritated him. As he detached the full tank from his back, he glanced at it. The Mana-filled tank was pitch black. It was a container concentrated with energy that was essentially poison to humans. Since it was a hazardous material, it was sealed to prevent leakage, but he wondered if he could burst it if he threw it hard enough.
'Should I just smash it?'
If it burst, the headquarters employee—who wasn't wearing the protective gear that partially blocked the Mana like the subcontractors were—would be poisoned and die in an instant. As John stood there gripping the tank and imagining the scene, a voice reached his ears.
"Excuse me, are you alright? You don't look so good..."
The headquarters employee was looking at him with a worried expression.
"If you aren't feeling well, please say so. The schedule has been quite tight lately, and headquarters told us to keep a close eye on the condition of the workers."
"Ah... I'm fine. It's full, so please exchange it."
John snapped back to reality, handing over the tank he had been thinking of throwing. 'Crazy, what was I just thinking?'
Perhaps it was because he was working so hard, but lately, he found himself having these strange, intense urges. Had his personality changed because he’d been looking at nothing but corpses? The mere fact that he had thought about killing someone sent shivers down his spine.
'My body has been feeling a bit weird lately, too... Do I really need to take a break from work?'
Thinking this, John scratched at his neck, which had been red and inflamed for a few days as if he’d been bitten by a bug, rubbing it hard through his clothes.
I returned home from school as usual to find my guardian sitting on my bed. I was getting used to him popping in unannounced, so I didn't panic. I stared at him blankly, wondering why he’d come, and he waved his hand slightly to greet me.
"I heard you decided to get a prosthetic arm. I stopped by because there’s something we need to discuss regarding that."
I was slightly taken aback. I hadn't told him, so how did he know? I suppose as my guardian, he would have been contacted. As I thought this, he seemed to read my mind and chuckled.
"Did I not mention it? The principal of the academy you attend is my older brother. He told me he’d cover the entire cost of the prosthetic. I got a call from him yesterday because the invoice for the custom order was sent to me. That’s how I found out you were getting one. By the way, Scarlet, you’re more ambitious than I thought."
After he said that, he showed me the invoice on his phone, and I was shocked by the number of zeros written on it. The price of the prosthetic was several times more shocking than the fact that my guardian was the principal's younger brother. Do you know how many bags of Host that could buy?
"You deserve at least that much for what you did, so don't feel burdened. Besides, that man has plenty of money, so don't worry about it."
My guardian said that, but it was hard to recover from the jaw-dropping price. It was a price that made me wonder if Jesse was building a prosthetic that could actually fire Mana Cannons.
He seemed to think the same thing, as he asked me, "By the way, what kind of prosthetic did you order to get that price? Even if it’s top-of-the-line, I wouldn't expect it to cost that much."
Hearing his words, I thought of the black fragment I always kept in my pocket. Come to think of it, he had told me not to show it to anyone last time. Even though he’s a stranger, I felt a bit guilty for breaking my guardian's instructions. Still, I had to say something. I took the black fragment out of my pocket, ignited it, and spoke in a small, apologetic voice.
"Um, about this thing you told me not to show anyone... My ability is to set things on fire, and I found out I can ignite this with my will, too. I thought if I used this, I could make the prosthetic emit flames, so I asked them to make it that way. When I was getting measured for the custom fit, I showed them this and..."
"...It emits flames even in that state?"
Was it because I broke his rule about not showing it to anyone? Watching the burning black fragment, my guardian’s face hardened. He muttered something to himself before asking me.
"The place you commissioned for the prosthetic... was it Lutenia Corp? Surely, among the senior researchers... was there a man with a receding hairline among the people you showed it to?"
At the mention of a man with a receding hairline, I immediately thought of Jesse’s eldest brother. Feeling a bit sorry about that, I offered a silent apology in my heart and slowly nodded.
My guardian then muttered in a grave tone, "...It’ll probably be fine, but if it’s that guy... you might have been caught..."
I didn't know what he was talking about, but did I do something wrong? As I looked at him, feeling a bit nervous, he seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before letting out a sigh, relaxing his expression, and speaking to me.
"Whew, well, you’ve already shown it, so it can't be helped. Anyway, be careful not to let anyone else see that. You could end up in a difficult situation if you’re not careful."
It was an incomprehensible warning, but I nodded and tucked the black fragment back into my pocket. My guardian nodded back, and as if he were ready to leave, he stood up and put on the coat he had taken off.
"Anyway, at my brother's request, I’ll be the one performing the surgery to attach your prosthetic once it's finished. I happen to specialize in medicine, so I came to tell you that. I'll be going now, see you next time."
After saying that, he greeted me and headed toward the door. I was about to say goodbye, but I suddenly felt that I couldn't let him leave like this, so I called out to him.
"...Um, I have a question."
"Oh? You have a question? Ask me anything."
He turned around, his face brightening at my words. I asked him the question I had been meaning to ask for a while.
"The fragment I showed you earlier. You seem to know something about it, could you tell me?"
His expression darkened instantly. Was it a difficult question? I didn't really intend to force an answer out of him, so I said,
"...Um, if it's hard to answer, you don't have to."
"...I'm sorry I can't answer that. Take care of yourself until I see you again."
My guardian gave me a troubled look and walked out the door. In the end, I didn't get much out of it. Still, seeing his face, I felt like something was on the verge of coming back to me. I felt like I had seen a face similar to his in the dreams I’d been having lately. They say dreams are just the subconscious rearranging things, so it was quite strange to see the face of a man I’d barely met in my dreams.
After eating dinner and washing up, I lay in bed and scrolled through news articles on my phone. Fortunately, there were no major incidents, only reports that petty crimes had been increasing lately. I fell asleep wishing that I could spend my days like this, without any major trouble.
That night, I had a dream again. It was a dream where someone was working hard to fix my left arm, which was hanging limp and covered in blood. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Ten times. I'm really sorry. Along with the voice, I could see someone fixing my left arm through blurred vision. The man saying that to me looked somewhat like my guardian.