Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (6)
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Fren sprinted through the alleys faster than anyone else.
He darted between them without making a single footstep sound.
Even the rats, so sensitive to human tread, showed no reaction to his movements.
After running for quite some time, he came to a halt in front of a certain house.
He immediately plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out a key.
Unlocking the door with it, the empty house where he'd once taken shelter welcomed him back.
The chill and enveloping darkness made it a place of dread for most.
But to Fren, it was a joyous reunion.
He shut the door behind him, stepped inside, and took a deep, satisfying breath.
"Ah...! How utterly ecstatic! Nobles and commoners are equal before death!"
He had endured agony for far too long.
Having run his own business, he knew all too well how nobles scorned the common folk.
They hadn't lifted a finger to help when tax collectors hounded him.
Instead, they'd mocked him as mere entertainment, despite his efforts to build connections with them.
Yet nobles stood impossibly high.
That's why he wanted to prove it.
That no matter how exalted the noble, they were the same before death.
And today, he had proven it.
He had also proven that his power worked.
Fren paced the room in rapture.
Reliving the day's events, he reflected on what he'd done wrong and what he'd done right.
Then he climbed to the second floor and stood by the window.
Gazing down at the street, he sank into thought.
"The drug's effect lasts about a month. To be safe, say two and a half weeks. But I'll plan for two."
Killing a noble had been pure joy.
But Fren couldn't be satisfied with that.
It was just one noble.
Compared to all the nobles in the empire, it barely registered.
It might have been no more than trimming a fingernail.
So he began pondering ways to make himself known on a grander scale.
"I want to bring the nobles to their knees. I want to rise even higher than this."
He racked his brain for ways to unleash his desires more fully.
As he paced the room in contemplation,
Fren's face suddenly began to melt away.
"Gasp...! What is this?!"
Fren gasped in sudden agony.
A crushing pain gripped his heart like a vise, cold sweat pouring as he dropped to his knees.
Clutching his chest, he couldn't steady himself, his vision blurring in torment.
Just as consciousness began to slip away...
"Hah!"
His vision cleared abruptly, his blocked breath flowing free.
It was like being doused with ice water—a drastic shift.
"No way..."
Had he reverted to normal, if only for a moment?
Though just a hunch, Fren felt it with intense certainty.
It wasn't perfect.
For that instant, he'd become the weak Fren again.
That fact—no, that suspicion—terrified him utterly.
"No, no! I have to move, fast!"
Fren resolved to devise his plan as quickly as possible, even if just one day sooner.
**
For the next three days or so, Fren diligently hammered out his plan.
Of course, it was more about what to do than how to pull it off.
Amid those deliberations, he picked up a novel to read.
It was the one the black-robed figure had mentioned before.
"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Similar to me in some ways, different in others. But when it comes to desire, there's a lot that lines up."
Fren smiled as he read, clearly enjoying it.
A protagonist like himself was bound to draw him in.
The novel even sparked some inspiration.
Not copying it outright, but it would help craft quite the performance.
And conveniently, a perfect target had emerged.
"The Fourth Prince is set to appear in the capital tomorrow, right?"
The Fourth Prince, Nayden Fleur.
He'd always kept a low profile, with no claim to the throne and scant support.
Lately, though, he'd been unusually active for reasons unknown.
Not that it meant he'd rise any higher.
"Even if I can't kill him, just attempting assassination would do it."
It would put Fren on the map.
Not the pitiful Fren, but the audacious Fren who struck at a prince.
He could proclaim his manifesto to the world.
Anyone overhearing this would call him insane.
Or flee in terror from the madman.
To think such thoughts so casually, tying them to his ambitions.
He had long transcended normal reasoning.
Of course, Fren was oblivious to it.
Even if he realized, nothing would change.
He was simply honest with his desires.
"Perfect. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, my world changes."
Grinning happily, he finalized his plan based on his research.
**
On the day of the plan, Fren straightened his clothes.
He was stepping out before the public.
Even if they didn't want him to, he aimed to look his sharpest.
"Good enough."
Satisfied with his reflection, he turned away.
Joy filled his face, anticipation for what lay ahead.
Leaving the room and the house, he strode boldly down the street.
For some reason, he could now walk under the sun without fear.
Was it the two murders?
Or had he simply realized the sun was no enemy?
Either way, his body felt in peak condition.
Confidence surged—he could do anything.
"There. Right there."
He arrived at the plaza where the Fourth Prince was set to speak.
Nayden was preparing his speech alongside various nobles and officials.
He had no idea what it was about, but knowing wouldn't change the outcome.
Fren slipped quietly into the crowd, eyes fixed on Nayden.
Onlookers recoiled at his appearance, stepping aside.
Not from recognizing his face by rumor, but pure instinctive fear.
There was good reason for it.
Fren's current visage reflected his raw desires.
No one in society bares their desires openly.
Many reasons, but they all shun it regardless.
Yet mutants appear now and then, flaunting theirs.
And the masses recoil in disgust, like seeing someone streak naked.
Anyway, Fren moved to a more secluded corner.
There, obscured by speech stage decorations, he spotted some he hadn't noticed.
"...The Holy Kingdom's involved."
Fren didn't know it, but killing the noble had left traces of black magic.
Thus, for the prince's capital speech, the Holy Kingdom had provided escorts.
"Damn. That's a nasty wrinkle."
An unwelcome variable beyond his plan.
A Holy Kingdom priest was the last thing he wanted.
Clicking his tongue, he revised his plan.
Adjusting the scheme in his head, he glanced back at the stage.
By now, the prince had ascended.
Not yet.
When the mood peaked.
That's when to strike.
Not just for maximum visibility, but maximum carelessness.
Fren waited patiently, though patience eluded him.
One side urged restraint, the other itched unbearably.
He didn't even know why.
Just a sensation of his whole body being squeezed.
"...I want to burst out right now."
Yet Fren summoned superhuman restraint.
He suppressed the urge to lunge and kill the prince immediately.
It surged stronger, but he held until the right moment.
Just as he prepared to move...
"There's a famous fellow making waves lately. Prometheus, the author, as you all know."
Fren froze mid-motion.
Gazing at the stage, he cracked an intrigued smile.
"Ho, even this guy's a fan of Prometheus."
But he couldn't indulge it.
He'd planned from execution to escape—no room to botch.
Even a simple plan couldn't afford missing this chance; who knew when the next would come.
Thus, Fren charged straight onto the stage.
Despite the escort mages, knights—even what looked like a Holy Kingdom archbishop or similar.
"Greetings, Your Highness. I am Benta. I've come to claim your neck."
"You dare! Who gave you leave for this?!"
The escort knights drew swords, surrounding Benta.
But he met them with a leisurely smile.
As if they were nothing, unworthy of notice.
His eyes locked solely on the Fourth Prince, Nayden.
"Your Highness. What is humanity, truly? What makes us hide and suppress ourselves so fiercely?"
"Your Highness! No need to answer!"
The mages tried pulling Nayden back.
He seemed to comply briefly, then gently refused their hands.
"What is the point of that question?"
"Your Highness!"
Shouts of alarm around him, but Nayden pressed on undeterred.
Benta admired the prince's boldness.
"This is why they call you prince? No empty boasts."
"I'd prefer no chit-chat. For both our sakes. That's not what we want, is it?"
True enough—Fren had no intent for idle talk.
He nodded.
"Humanity has no good or evil. Some say it's blended, others sharply divided."
Nayden sensed familiarity in Benta's words.
Prometheus's latest work sprang to mind.
Was this inspired by the book?
The prince's brow furrowed faintly, suspicion growing.
Unfortunately, he'd read it after this transformation.
Not that he could know.
Benta spread his arms wide, gazing skyward.
Like a musical performer, exaggerated and theatrical.
"Yet in living, humans suppress their nature, deny their dark side. Because they believe it's right!"
Or maybe because they're just too weak.
Benta added the afterthought, recalling his past.
But now it was hazy as drifting smoke.
A past he no longer needed to remember.
Lowering his gaze from the heavens, Benta fixed on the prince.
Curiosity mingled with expectation on Nayden's face.
"So I ask again. What is humanity?"
"...An intriguing question."
The prince deemed it so, yet couldn't answer.
What is humanity?
Even philosophers dodge it easily.
No true right answer exists.
To the masses, it's clear-cut.
Commit sin, and you stray from human bounds, incur divine wrath.
Thus, humanity is defined by God's will.
But that's the popular view.
Philosophers differ.
All are human.
God regards all, so sin doesn't strip humanity.
Merely parental scolding of a child.
Sinner or saint, all human.
Nayden agreed, yet something nagged.
Must it be solely God's decree?
He'd pondered it before, unanswered.
Stray from that, and no answer holds.
Instinct told him this man sought no divine platitude.
So Nayden gave his own view.
Born from reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
"Good and evil must coexist. They make up humanity. Split one person in two, and it's no longer the original human. Just two separate beings."
Thus.
Nayden eyed the beaming Benta.
"Humanity is the coexistence of good and evil. Simply put, humans are human."
"Well said. That clears the air nicely!"
Benta laughed heartily, satisfied.
Nayden signaled his knights, mages, and priests subtly.
Prepare to seize.
But Benta wasn't done.
Catching the cue mid-laugh, he exhaled in ecstasy.
"Indeed. Humans are human. You, me— all of us."
"...! Seize him now!"
At the prince's urgent cry, a knight lunged first.
Benta saw through the move, slipping away effortlessly.
In a flash, he closed on Nayden.
Then lights flared from the priest and mage.
"Bind him!"
"Goddess, grant us this one's capture!"
The priest's prayer weakened Benta's black magic.
The mage's binding spell seized his limbs.
They rejoiced at the advantage—but Benta poured all power into his right arm.
"Hngh!"
Muscles bulged explosively, snapping the spell.
No one reacted in time to the sudden turn.
Benta thrust at the prince, his hand blade piercing Nayden's left arm.
"Guh!"
Nayden groaned in pain, staggering back.
Simultaneously, the charging knight stabbed from behind.
"Damn you!"
Squish!
It pierced clean through.
A body that should have taken only a graze.
Weakened by prayer, it couldn't resist.
"Cough!"
Blood spewed—perhaps the thrust had nicked his esophagus.
The knight yanked his sword free; Benta staggered and fell backward.
Yet he was smiling.
"In the end, all humans are the same."
Gazing at the prince's bleeding arm, Benta smiled.
Bright as if his goal achieved, he died.
That was Fren's final act as Benta.