Chapter 215: The Sign of Four (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 215: The Sign of Four (4)
“Haa... haaa...”
Clenching her teeth as she ran, Silver Blaze realized with a pang of despair that she was slowing down. Fast.
“Ugh...”
Despite being unmatched in speed within the city of London, her entire life had been dedicated to the controlled environment of horse racing. Her body simply wasn't in the condition to handle this. She had already sprinted several times her usual distance, all while still suffering from the lingering aftereffects of the KKK incident.
Thud—!
Attempting to break through the encircling forces halfway across London Bridge, she finally hit her limit. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed forward.
“No...”
Still, she gritted her teeth and struggled to rise. She staggered, forcing her uncooperative legs to find purchase on the stone.
“I’m going to... mate... with Master...”
Driven by the heat still pulsing through her veins, Blaze murmured deliriously as she crawled forward.
“Got you.”
“...Eh?”
A cold voice drifted from behind, followed by a crushing weight on her back. Her movements stopped instantly as she was pinned to the ground.
“I have nothing against you personally... but the world of competition is ruthless.”
Phantom Thief Lupin, aided by the momentum of her mechanical propeller, was the first to catch up. She looked down at the demihuman horse girl with a flicker of sympathy before reaching out her hand.
“So—”
Riip!
“...Huh?”
Even in her state of total exhaustion, Silver Blaze clung to the contract with everything she had. She refused to let go. A flash of panic crossed Lupin’s face as she failed to snatch the document away.
“Hey, it might tear!”
“I’m going to... mate...”
“Are you going to let go or not?!”
In the next moment—
Sfff...
“Step aside, you French country bumpkin...”
“...Urghhh?!”
The second person to arrive, Princess Clay, grabbed Lupin by the hair and yanked.
“To conquer the world, I need this man!”
“...Let’s be honest. You don’t actually need Adler to conquer the world, do you?”
“Sh-Shut up!”
Suddenly, the Princess and Lupin were locked in a struggle, each grabbing the other’s hair while simultaneously trying to pry the contract from Blaze’s death grip. A murderous aura began to leak from both of them.
Swoosh—!
“”.........!””
Just then, a pitch-black hand erupted from the shadow cast upon the bridge, seizing the contract.
“It would be best to let go before I kill everyone here...”
Half-emerged from the darkness, Jill the Ripper whispered, pulling the contract toward the abyss.
“You... You’re just going to kill him!”
“Not really. I’m going to rape him, then murder him, over and over again. All you’re going to do is stuff him into your collection and let him rot!”
“I am not going to rape, murder, or stuff anyone anywhere, so let it go!”
“Ma... te...”
The first arrivals devolved into a chaotic brawl, tumbling and wrestling over the single sheet of paper.
Click, click...
“...Tsk.”
Watching from a distance, Moran realized she was out of ammunition. She broke into a sprint toward the center of London Bridge, swinging her rifle like a club.
Rumble...
“There... it’s there...”
“But... they’re all stronger than us...”
“Just... push through...”
Almost simultaneously, the horde of monsters on both sides of the bridge staggered toward the center, drawn by the contract.
Creak... creak...
Under the combined weight of the supernatural entities and the mindless throngs, London Bridge began to sway. The ancient structure groaned under the strain.
Creeeeeeak—!
It seemed a new, darker verse was about to be added to the famous nursery rhyme.
“Stop right there.”
The most intense treasure hunt in British history came to an abrupt halt. It was a mercy, for the tattered bridge could not have survived another second of the struggle.
“From this moment, if any of you moves even a single step...”
A being had appeared at the end of the bridge—one capable of ensuring victory or defeat even if every supernatural entity present rushed her at once.
“...They will be torn apart.”
.
.
.
.
.
A voice colder than a slab of ice resonated through the air, sending shivers down every spine.
Goooooo—!
“”.........!?””
It wasn't just a sensation; a physical, oppressive Killing Intent began to weigh heavily on everyone on the bridge.
“Ugh...?”
“What is this Killing Intent?”
“...Is it that damn Professor again?”
The women at the center of the bridge muttered in shock. They had never encountered anyone other than Professor Moriarty capable of emitting such a dense, suffocating aura of slaughter.
“But she already signed it... why...”
“Maybe she’s thinning out the competition.”
“No, this doesn't feel like her. This aura lacks that smug, playful arrogance that usually oozes from the Professor.”
It didn't take long for them to realize their mistake. The women narrowed their eyes, turning toward the source of the voice.
“Hee, heek...!”
A scream erupted from the back of the monster horde.
Splash, splash!
“”........?””
Seconds later, the long line of Monsters fell into a blind panic. Those at the very rear began leaping off the bridge into the freezing Thames, their faces deathly pale.
“Mo-Move...!”
“Don’t push!”
“Save me... save me!”
The monsters who couldn't make the jump in time scrambled to the edges, clinging to the railings and trembling in terror.
Goooooo...
As if the parting of the Red Sea were being reenacted, the crowd of monsters split down the middle, revealing the figure that had terrified them out of their wits.
“The impurities of this lowly world...”
Muttering under her breath, a petite girl in a black suit walked forward. She looked like a typical, professional secretary.
“...In my time, filth like you weren't even welcomed in hell.”
With her eyes obscured by her bangs and her visible eye closed, she moved forward with an expression of pure annoyance. The monsters she passed huddled together, shaking.
“I do not know who is daring enough to play with the dead... but it is quite displeasing.”
“That... why is that monster here?”
Even the women locked in the struggle at the center felt an instinctual, primal fear.
“Why is the Guardian of the Afterlife here...?”
“.........”
“That isn't something a typical devil can even summon...”
Princess Clay, who had been gifted in spellcraft and demonology since childhood, began to sweat profusely. She took a step back, causing the resolve of the women around her to waver.
“Come to think of it, there are not one, but two beings here deceiving death.”
“.........”
“Amusing. Shall I capture them?”
The girl’s gaze flickered between Princess Clay and Jill the Ripper. A faint blue glow began to emanate from behind her bangs.
“However, there are more urgent matters at hand.”
“...Oops!”
In the blink of an eye, the girl flashed to the railing. The contract that had been the center of the brawl was suddenly in her hands.
“How despicable...”
She bared her teeth in a low growl.
“...Is this what you were trying to do with my Master?”
“That—that was that bastard’s plan!”
“Shut up!”
“...Heek.”
The Princess tried to lash out in defense, only to cower instantly at the girl’s icy tone and the eerie blue light in her eyes.
“If you insult my Master again, I will kill everyone here.”
Glaring at the gathered women, the girl began to clench her fist.
Crumple...
“Oh, no!”
It looked as though the ultimate prize of the London treasure hunt was about to be reduced to scrap paper and tossed into the river.
“Hey! If you're going to do that, you might as well use it yourself! What a waste!”
Halt...
A sharp voice echoed from amidst the monsters. The secretary-esque girl paused, her eyes widening before she could tear the paper.
“.........”
Silence fell over the bridge.
“Uh...”
In that silence, the girl’s expression went dazed. The thought had never even crossed her mind, and the sudden realization overwhelmed her. Her gaze remained fixed on the empty fourth signature slot for a long time.
Thump, thump, thump...
Her heart began to race. A visible flush crept up her cheeks.
“Which bastard just said that?!”
“Eek... you can't do that...”
“...You little shitty dog in heat!”
“The pet position should be enough for a bitch like you!”
Noticing the shift in her demeanor, the women momentarily forgot their fear and charged toward the girl.
Tsk...!
“...Huh?”
Before anyone could reach her, someone had already grabbed the girl’s leg.
“Little one.”
“”.......!?””
“...What are you doing up there?”
It was Rachel Watson. She had wandered onto London Bridge to watch what she thought was an "unusual horse race," and she was completely, utterly intoxicated.
.
.
.
.
.
“Hey, are you harboring wicked thoughts?”
“...Huh?”
“What’s with this young rascal... thinking life’s so short already...”
Slurring her words, Watson yanked the leg of the girl standing on the railing. The girl toppled down, leaving the bystanders frozen in shock.
“Grrrr.....”
The girl hit the ground, her bewildered expression quickly turning into a fierce snarl as she bared her fangs at Watson. But the doctor was far too gone, her face flushed red and reeking of spirits.
Bam!
“...Eh?!”
Watson delivered an affectionate, disciplinary smack to the girl’s head.
“Blimey... where are you looking when an adult is speaking? You youngsters are so impolite...”
“........”
“Don’t you have eyes?”
Waving a fist in the air, Rachel Watson displayed the practiced authority of someone used to handling rowdy dogs. The spirit of her original counterpart’s bulldog seemed to possess her very demeanor.
“Oh... but... why did I come here?”
In this unprecedented situation, while the terrifying guardian was momentarily stunned into silence, Watson blinked.
“...Ah, right.”
“Ah.”
Watson swiftly snatched the contract from the girl’s hand.
“Came to buy a betting ticket.”
In the next moment—
Shluck...
“”.......!!!””
She pulled a pen from her pocket and, without a single person able to stop her, effortlessly signed her name in the empty fourth slot.
“But why isn't the match starting?”
“”.........””
The glorious final owner of the fourth signature had been decided.