13. Circus Charlie (23)
13. Circus Charlie (23)
After the fighting resumed, Reaper's attacks grew subtly slower than before. Wonderstein wasn't stupid enough to be pleased by that. Reaper was blatantly leaving openings, clearly intending to bait his opponent into attacking.
To lunge in, or to pull back.
An unavoidable either‑or. He didn't agonize for long. Only one choice existed. If he retreated any further, he'd be cornered against a dead end. Reaper had only shown such openings when Wonderstein was standing in exactly that position, forcing the dilemma upon him.
Wonderstein drew Mantula's Blade from his back and hurled it at him. Other times he pulled Bone Hog Spears from his arm and launched them. He also tried raising Shabain's Tentacles from within the shadows to whip at him by surprise.
Every attempt was thwarted. Whenever he drove at the gap Reaper had exposed, Ella, perched on the creature's shoulder, would intercept as if she'd been waiting, blocking his strike. And when that made him falter, Reaper's claws or scythe would instantly slice into his body, never missing the opening.
Crunch.
Every claw wound drained his vitality to regenerate damaged flesh; every scythe wound, just like last time, siphoned away experience points and permanently eroded his physical abilities. So the longer the fight dragged on, the slower his movements and reactions became.
Wonderstein exhaled hoarsely and pressed a hand to the injured area. Wounds that normally healed cleanly within seconds were still bleeding after more than thirty seconds. The accumulated damage had exceeded his tolerance. The stat‑boosting effect from Yurakne's Devotion lasted one hour at most. He'd drunk a cup before descending here, so time was running short.
Now he had to choose.
Though it looked as if he were being helplessly overwhelmed, he did in fact possess one way to break this deadlock. But if he used it, the misunderstanding Ella held against him would become impossible to untangle. So before resorting to that, he wanted to try persuading her one last time.
"Miss Ella......"
"Hah. Finally whimpering, are you? It won't do any good. If you want to live, drop the act and kill me."
Again and again Wonderstein tried to speak, but each time she deliberately ignored him and urged Reaper to attack.
Ella knew why she was doing this. She was afraid that if she talked to him, her resolve might weaken.
'I'm done being toyed with by that bastard. I won't be fooled again.'
Ella could gauge the state of Wonderstein's body. He was being wounded more often and more deeply. Now only a few steps separated him from death. Just a little more, and victory would be hers.
But the emotion rising to her face wasn't relief or satisfaction—it was anguish.
'I should be happy about this.......'
The deeper his wounds ran, the more a sharp ache throbbed in one corner of her heart. She desperately suppressed the surge of pity and tried to squeeze out every last drop of hatred she had for him.
Yet the more she called up memories, the less her hatred swelled—it only cooled.
Every moment she had laughed and chattered with him bloomed one by one in her mind. All of them were happy memories. Judging solely by those, she had no reason to hate him.
But the first and last pages of that cherished album were stained with blood. The blood of the friends she had been closest to. And they had met that fate because she had let him deceive her.
"Cough!"
Wonderstein spat a mouthful of blood and leaned his back against the wall. For the first time, he had chosen the retreat over the attack Reaper was forcing. It wasn't his own will. He had tried to exploit the opening as before, but his body, ravaged by injuries, wouldn't obey. He had no choice but to yank himself backward at the last instant.
Reaper's slash skimmed past his shoulder and demolished part of the cave wall.
"Kikiki, what just happened, I wonder? Did you predict that man would step back? Or perhaps......has your heart gone soft?"
Reaper probed her intent in an insinuating voice. Normally, the moment Wonderstein extended a hand toward him, Ella should have leaped forward to block the path. Instead, she had only flinched and shuddered without moving. If Wonderstein hadn't sensed something wrong with his body and pulled back, Cappi would have ended up with a hole in his chest.
Ella forced a sneer onto her face and shouted at the questioning Reaper.
"Rubbish! Why on earth would I feel sorry for that demon? I just......just lost my ti, timing for a moment. Anyway, we've cornered him exactly as planned, haven't we?"
Ella slipped down from Reaper's back and stood before Wonderstein, who was barely staying upright against the wall. She hooked her finger around the trigger and leveled the gun at him. He smiled faintly at her.
"Ella......will you hear me out?"
Wonderstein was making one last attempt at conversation. If this didn't work, he planned to bring out his final resort.
Ella stared at him, her expression a turmoil of conflict. What should she do? Was pulling the trigger truly the right thing?
Then she heard voices inside her own mind—two voices issuing contradictory commands.
Shoot him.
No. He never attacked you to the very end.
It's a façade. A trick, I tell you. He's trying to deceive you. Shoot!
He wants to talk.
The two voices argued with each other, mirroring her conflicted heart.
Don't listen! He's trying to fool you again with sweet lies. He isn't human. He's a demon!
Think about everything he's done for you. Whatever he may be to others, he was sincere toward you alone.
And the result? He made you shoot Charlie with your own hands—is that it?
She clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on the gun. Glaring at him as if she might fire at any second, her lips quivered a few times; then abruptly she flung a question at him.
"Why......why......in a situation like this, can you still smile like that?"
Wonderstein answered frankly, giving her a grateful smile for agreeing to talk.
"At present, I am only capable of making a smiling expression. Regardless of what is in my heart. If any misunderstanding has arisen because of my smile all this time, I hope you will understand that it was never my true feelings."
Ella slowly nodded.
So that was it. So that was how it was.
"I did suspect it was something like that."
One question she'd had about him was resolved. But at the same time, other questions abruptly reared their heads.
"But that doesn't excuse the things you've done."
"I know."
"Right. I do know. I know you're a villain who treats human life as cheaper than insects. So why......why......why haven't you attacked me? You had chances—over and over."
Her words had begun with forced calm, but suddenly her voice rose into a shout.
"Why am I the only one you spare? Why me alone......ah, yes. You once answered that, didn't you? You said it was because you needed me. So I decided to cooperate with you actively. At first it was against my will, but later I threw myself into it for real! After I heard about the two‑year promise, that is! So......haven't I done well all this time? Then why......why did you do that? Why......did you make me shoot my own friend?"
Wonderstein stared, stunned, at the spot where Charlie lay collapsed.
Mysterious was Ella's friend?
It was the moment a clue to the identity of the enigma was revealed. True, it meant little, since not much about Ella's own identity had been clarified either.
Wonderstein heaved a great inward sigh. The situation was tangled beyond belief.
She had shot her friend to save him when he was dying. Then he had appeared before her in fine shape, revealing the whole thing had been an act, and had pretended to already know Mysterious had been targeting him from the start.
If she misconstrued all of that as his design, he had no defense.
Still, Wonderstein decided to be stubborn this time. He would make whatever excuse he could. He refused to let the knots between them remain twisted any longer.
"I didn't know he was your friend. I only thought he was someone lurking around, gunning for my life."
"And you expect me to believe that? Then why did you put on that act of being so badly hurt?"
"I believed he had taken you hostage. I feigned vulnerability in order to catch him off guard and separate him from you."
Wonderstein could feel her wavering. Perhaps he truly could unravel every misunderstanding between them. But that hope shattered the moment the next words left her mouth.
"What about the people of my hometown?"
Wonderstein, who had been ready to answer any question immediately, sealed his lips shut. Seeing that, Ella wore an expression impossible to read—something between a laugh and a sob—and went on.
"Hundreds of them died! And dozens of school friends I'd spent my whole life with! That day, you carried out a slaughter like that, then threatened me with the lives of everyone who survived! Do you have an excuse ready for that, too? Is this another misunderstanding on my part? Huh?"
For the first time, Wonderstein learned precisely what the original owner of this body had done to her. It was far more ghastly than he had vaguely imagined.
He could grasp the depth of her hatred. He himself had endured a similar experience. The day the cult he had belonged to came under investigation and its key figures were arrested one after another, the orphanage director killed every disabled child under his care and then took his own life. The only child who survived was him—because his friends had died shielding him.
If, after that, the director had stood before him alive and sneering, how would he have taken it?
It wasn't something he needed to think about. Wonderstein quietly shook his head.
"I have no words to excuse that."
Ella's fist smashed into Wonderstein's face. Smack. His head snapped sideways.
"You bastard."
"......Yes. I am."
She struck him again with the opposite fist.
"You......you're the worst......the vilest man in the world!"
"Yes. That's true."
While answering her, Wonderstein set in motion what he had seeded all over the cave floor.
Shabain's Tentacles.
Those were organisms that could only grow and move within darkness. Their appearance resembled octopus legs, but their cellular makeup was akin to heliophobic creeping vines. They grew automatically by shunning anything brighter than their surroundings. Their most distinct trait was that wherever shadow fell, they could extend roots into the ground and send stalks sprouting up from distant shadows elsewhere.
In other words, they were tentacles remotely operable through shadow.
Though he had failed to persuade her, he couldn't simply lie down and die. And he couldn't give up on her, either. Now that he understood he was an unforgivable villain who had wronged her, he resolved to handle this situation like a villain.
Ella aimed the gun at him. No one knew better than she did that something like this would never kill him. Yet she felt she had to do to him exactly what she had done to Charlie for her own conscience to settle.
"This is the end between you and me, Wonderstein."
Just as she pulled the trigger—just as Wonderstein was about to command the Shabain seeds he had scattered throughout the cave to accelerate their growth—
"T-Troupe Leader?"
Four girls stepped into the mouth of the cave.