Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (4)
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Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
This book, if you really think about it, was written for Katiranya.
She'd nagged me endlessly while I was building those mass-produced golems.
So it wasn't all that surprising when she showed up in my room right after the book hit the shelves, a copy in hand.
"Edn. This one's a bit short."
"Hahaha, couldn't be helped."
"Well, I watched you write it, so I won't complain. But still."
Katiranya set the book down on my desk and looked at me.
She seemed a little dissatisfied, or maybe just not entirely pleased.
It was a subtle expression.
"What's with the protagonist only showing up at the very end?"
"Ah. Well."
I couldn't very well say it was like that in the original.
If you split the original into Part 1 and Part 2, Part 1's protagonist is Utterson.
And Part 2 is from Dr. Jekyll's perspective.
But Jekyll's viewpoint is basically just an attached appendix.
Whether that's a limitation of it being a short story, or if there was never any intention to make it longer, I have no idea.
Anyway, I put on an awkward smile and tried to brush it off.
Maybe my reaction was too lukewarm, because she shook her head slightly.
"Never mind. I can't go hounding the author just because I don't like the structure."
"Thank— Wait, what? What have you been hounding me about all this time, then?"
"More importantly, this one deals with the good and evil in humanity."
She ignored me completely...?
Dismissing my words, she started talking about the book.
She sounded like a critic at times, and like just another reader at others.
"You portrayed good as shackles, and evil as something freed from those shackles."
"Well, yeah, pretty much."
Though later on, Jekyll comes to fear Hyde, whom he can no longer control.
But it didn't seem like that's what Katiranya wanted to discuss.
She still tilted her head, as if puzzled.
"Why? Even setting aside the sensitive topic, why did you divide good and evil so clearly and define their roles so distinctly?"
Hmm, didn't see that coming.
I had to stiffen at Katiranya's question.
It was something I'd never even considered.
But I couldn't just say I'd written it without thinking.
After a moment's thought, I shared my own reasoning as best I could.
"Living in the world, it's not always easy to distinguish good from evil."
"Right. That damned Holy Kingdom draws a clear line between them."
...She couldn't be asking because of the Holy Kingdom, could she?
Hoping not, I continued.
"But sometimes, you need to make it clear. And this book is exactly that."
"So what's the conclusion?"
She's awfully impatient.
She gets pretty emotional whenever the Holy Kingdom comes up.
It's different from her usual curiosity-driven demeanor.
Anyway, this is what I wanted to say.
"Good and evil shouldn't be clearly separated. If you divide them distinctly and think of them as separate, you end up like Dr. Jekyll. That's the message I wanted to convey."
What happened to Dr. Jekyll?
He started off thrilled, but gradually grew terrified of Hyde, who he couldn't control and who was consuming him.
That problem arose because he clearly separated good and evil.
When one side desires the other, it comes right back.
The issue exploded because Jekyll didn't blend Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
For humans, it's natural for good and evil to be intertwined.
At my words, her face grew even more puzzled.
"...I asked to resolve my doubts, but now I have even bigger ones."
Well, couldn't be helped.
This era is different from Earth in many ways, but it's medieval at heart.
And the Middle Ages leaned heavily on black-and-white logic, unlike the modern world.
Even in the present day, concepts like centrism, moderation, and shades of gray haven't been widely accepted for all that long.
Of course, I'm not against black-and-white thinking.
I just wanted to show this world a bit of moderation.
Though that's a secondary reason, really.
I'd have to think deeply to come up with such concepts anyway.
The real reason? The duke and the Don Quixote incident.
But words can mean different things depending on how you phrase them, right?
The same statement can sound completely different based on packaging.
"Anyway, think it over. Sometimes you need to figure things out for yourself."
"You do talk a good game."
We chatted a bit more after that, and then she left my room.
Said she wanted some fresh air and was going for a walk.
"Phew. Time to really relax now."
I've published the new book and answered Katiranya's questions.
I lay down on the bed and started reading some knightly literature.
It was always light and easy to get through.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Lately, a rather eerie rumor has been circulating in the capital.
Apparently, an old gentleman in fine black attire wanders the streets every night.
But accounts from those who've seen him vary wildly.
Some say he's simply strolling along, humming cheerfully.
Others claim he smirks unsettlingly at passersby.
Or that he's just standing there blankly, expressionless.
But everyone agrees on one thing.
His face is that of a kindly old gentleman, yet somehow like a fully ripened demon.
"Uh, so what the hell does that even mean?"
"How should I know? I just wrote down what I heard."
Two guards tasked with protecting the capital scratched their heads in the middle of the street.
Their superior had ordered them to investigate the truth behind the recent rumors.
Of course, no actual incidents had occurred.
The boss was just bored and wanted something amusing.
The pair knew it well but didn't object.
The capital's security was better maintained than most places, after all.
There were slums and shadowy districts, sure.
But an unspoken rule kept everyone from meddling in each other's business.
So a bizarre rumor like this in such a place?
It was just the kind of thing to pique their usually restless superior's interest.
"Ugh. Where the heck do we even start?"
The senior guard scratched the back of his helmet—no, his head.
The junior peered into a notepad made of several sheets of paper.
"It mostly shows up on the outskirts. Occasionally between the center and outskirts too."
"Yeah? And we're on the outskirts right now."
"Mainly at night, from what I hear."
The senior clicked his tongue in frustration at the junior's words.
This was the outskirts, but it was still daytime.
Broad daylight, with hours until nightfall.
In other words, they'd gotten all they could here for now.
"Damn. Guess we'll have to come back tonight."
"Sure thing. Oh, there's a place nearby with good salad, apparently."
"Salad? Who shoves that up whose nose?"
"They've got meat too."
"Let's go."
The junior gave his senior a pitiful look.
Switching attitudes the moment meat was mentioned.
He shook his head with a sigh and took the lead.
The senior followed happily.
While they lounged away peacefully until evening,
a man emerged from an alley.
His name was Fren, the man who had taken the potion not long ago.
That night, after consuming it, his life had changed dramatically.
Though it was hard to move about during the day.
"Tch. Why does my whole body reject going out in daylight?"
Fren didn't like it, but he accepted there was no helping it.
The drug he'd taken granted him the power to manifest his true nature.
It wasn't magic, nor the aura used by knights.
But one thing was clear.
"With this power, I can stand above everyone."
Clenching his fist, he prepared to move.
The sun was setting, and his time to act had arrived.
As it finally vanished completely, he slowly stepped out of the alley.
The moment he did, he broke into a run.
Today's task was urgent and required caution.
A week had passed since he took the drug.
Grown accustomed to his transformed body, the man had finally made his decision today.
"Damn bastards."
He'd resolved to eliminate the debt collectors who had hounded him.
There was no hesitation or fear left in his heart.
Not doing so made his entire body itch unbearably.
"It was definitely this way."
He raced down streets, weaving through alleys toward where the debt collectors lived.
He felt eyes on him from all sides, but they soon lost interest.
Some mistook his movements for those of a knight or equivalent.
Others simply hadn't gotten a good look at his face.
Either way, no one paid him much mind.
This was thanks to the ability he'd gained.
He arrived at the debt collectors' house without interference.
A three-story building, raucous voices echoing from inside.
"Kuhak! I told you, I seduced her!"
"Pfft, with that mug of yours? What woman?"
"What?! What's wrong with my face? You picking a fight?!"
"Heh heh, just kidding. Anyway—."
Fren, listening from outside the door, couldn't contain his rage.
He'd suffered so much, yet here they were, relaxing carefree.
Fren kicked the door with all his might.
It shattered into splinters from the blow.
The debt collectors inside stared at the intruder in shock at the massive noise.
Fren smirked at their dumbfounded gazes.
He barely swallowed his boiling fury and bowed his head.
"Good evening? I'm Benta. The man who's here to take your necks on this fine night."
Benta—his new name.
Not abandoning his old one, but an alias perfect for hiding his identity.
The debt collectors bristled and stood at his words.
"What did you just say? Wanna die?!"
One man slammed the table and rose, his thick arms—like battle-honed muscle—full of confidence.
He was sure he could handle a guy like this easily.
But.
"Gahk!"
Once.
That was how many times his attack landed on Benta.
After that, it was one-sided beating, and now he rolled on the floor, bleeding.
Benta was a sturdy old gentleman, brimming with unshakable confidence.
"I see. Just as I thought."
"Y-You're insane! Everyone, run—!"
The man heading for the back door lost his head.
Body and head separated, tumbling to the floor.
Watching this, all the debt collectors shared the same thought.
No one would leave alive tonight.
A short while later, Benta emerged from the house, spotless—not a drop of blood on him.
He let out a breath to calm his trembling, excited body.
"Now, there's nothing left to fear."
Benta—no, Fren—gazed at the bright moon, smiling in rapture.
He spread his arms wide and laughed joyfully.
No one saw him.
The next day, the mass murder inside the house was discovered.