Killing a Person
Washing my hands with cold water left me feeling utterly refreshed. I wiped away the sticky blood and scrubbed every inch with soap until my skin squeaked. The very symbol of cleanliness. The god of medicine, Asclepius himself, must have been smiling down in satisfaction. With both gods and mortals pleased, a song rose naturally to my lips.
Living a day is dying a day~.
Only now have I come to understand its meaning, left all alone.
I must awaken my soul that fell behind in the shadows of life
and cast off every last ounce of these fleeting years~.
Ah, it got on my face too. I wiped the bloodstains from my cheek and let a man’s soul pour out of me.
Dark wanderings, desperate love, the sorrow that froze me to the bone—
I carve them all out with a knife to my own heart~~~.
I even performed the song for them myself, yet they still hadn’t woken up. They had to be worms that didn’t appreciate music. I splashed cold water onto the fat bastard who looked like he could’ve been mustard or mayonnaise.
“Krhuuaaak!”
“Back with us?”
Unfortunately there was no towel, so I flicked more water at the mayonnaise bastard.
“Do you even know who I—”
“I know perfectly well. A filthy bug who’s been colluding with those Black Round Table fuckers.”
“If you kill me, you won’t just walk away scot-free—”
“Ah, thank you for worrying about me. How kind. But you should worry about yourself first.”
I seized the mayonnaise bastard’s front teeth.
“From now on I’m going to cast a spell on you.”
“A… spell?”
“Magic that grants military exemption and makes every answer to my questions flow right out.”
“What kind of bullshit—”
“Spirit of my right hand, extract!”
I ripped the bastard’s front tooth clean out.
“Gaaaah!”
“Alright, big brother has a question. What the fuck are you bastards plotting?”
“Blood! My tooth! Gaaaah!”
Fuck, it must have hurt more than I thought. No helping it—I’d have to administer painkillers.
“Sorry, I forgot the painkillers.”
“Pain… killers?”
“This way your teeth won’t hurt anymore.”
I snapped his pinky finger.
“Gaaaah!”
“See? Teeth don’t hurt now, do they? This works way better than anesthesia, fuck.”
“Gaaaah!!!”
“Ah, shit, now the finger hurts. Hands are getting busy. One more dose. This time on your lower—”
“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”
As expected of me. I really am gifted when it comes to manufacturing drugs. As the successor of Philippus Paracelsus, producing painkillers of this caliber was well within my ability.
“So, what the fuck is this nonsense about killing His Highness the Crown Prince?”
“His Highness pursues reform unlike His Majesty… and he despises the existing nobility… so before he could act, we planned to assassinate—”
“You hold a grudge just because he doesn’t like you? Are you bastards yanderes? Do you wait in front of their houses holding kitchen knives, you toothless bitches?”
“I’m sorry, what are you—”
“I didn’t ask you a question, you fuck.”
I smacked the mayonnaise bastard across the head. Anyone who desires what was never given to them deserves punishment.
“So, the method?”
“When the fifth song at the ball begins… the men who slipped in through the sewers or ventilation shafts will attack… and take the Crown Prince’s head…”
“The fifth what?”
When I had entered it was already the middle of the third song.
“Why the hell are you only telling me now, you pig bastard!”
I kicked him square in the face. Such urgent information delivered this late?
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please stop hitting me!”
“Then this is the final question. Among the nobles communicating with those Black Round Table bastards there must be a leader. Give me his name.”
“That… that person is…”
The bastard was hesitating. He feared the boss more than me—the one who could torture and kill him at any second. It left a foul taste in my mouth. I’d treated him like a gentleman, so he clearly had no idea what real fear felt like.
“Hey… If I kill you and pay your house a visit, what do you think will happen…?”
“Huh…?”
“Truth is, I’m still debating it. Should I snap your children’s necks in front of their mother? Or kidnap them and force the kids to watch their mother get raped by vagrants? Or slice you slowly from the extremities until you die? Or open a hole and let you bleed out gradually…?”
“No matter what, at least leave my family—”
“Then tell me the name.”
In truth I had no desire to threaten his family, nor any intention of carrying it out. I was simply scaring him. But the threat worked; the bastard reluctantly prepared to spit it out.
“That person is… his name is…”
“Stop stalling, fuck. Are you boiling rice?”
“That person is…! Keuk!”
The bastard suddenly vomited blood. I hadn’t inflicted any wound that should have caused that. What the fuck was going on?
Betraying the name of an ally is troublesome. Therefore I have disposed of him. Try not to hold too much resentment.
I turned around. There stood Lancelot—Camellia’s father. This overwhelming pressure… the bastard really was strong.
“Hmm… They were fairly elite operatives, yet you slaughtered them all. Single strikes to vital points, piercing or snapping them…”
He seemed far more interested in the corpses scattered around the room than in me.
“I kill trash. Unfortunately I have a deep love of cleanliness.”
“Looking at the wounds, there is not the slightest hesitation in taking life… Are you truly a mage…?”
Strikes that have reached the divine realm are indistinguishable from magic; their true nature cannot be seen through. I threw a punch at him.
“To aim straight for the temple without hesitation… That is not the technique of a proper fighter but an assassin’s fist… And quite refined at that.”
“Assassin’s fist…?”
“Indeed. No true fighter would employ such techniques without hesitation. What I saw was clearly an assassin’s fist.”
I recited my boxing master’s maxim. It was the bare minimum courtesy toward my teacher.
“No… What you are seeing is [what stands before you].”
“What?”
I drove a kick into his ribs. My strikes could kill even a god. All he could manage was a sloppy guard, and I felt the satisfying crunch of bones breaking.
Yet even with broken ribs the bastard wore a perfectly calm expression.
“Two ribs broken, it seems.”
“How the hell is this bastard so calm with broken ribs…”
“A true warrior does not waver over a few broken bones… A fact you should understand better than anyone. Now it is my turn.”
He had to know that drawing a longsword in this narrow space was pointless. There was no reason I would lose. Without giving up, I prepared another kick to his ribs. Drive the broken bones into the lungs and warrior or not, he would die.
But before I could, it was the edge of his hand that sliced my skin. A considerable amount of blood poured out instantly.
“It seems my daughter did not show you this technique.”
“Because she’s not trash like you… She doesn’t commit perverted acts like ambushing men in the bathroom, you homo bastard!”
“Haa… I did not come here to fight.”
You spill blood and claim you didn’t come to fight? Give me a break. You cut a person open and say you have no intention of fighting?
“Oh, I don’t intend to fight either. I only intend to kill you.”
“I cannot understand why you harbor such rage toward me.”
“You slaughtered so many children, kidnapped them, and you can’t understand? Didn’t your mother teach you that’s wrong?”
These fucking pointy-eared bastards. Seems their parents never taught them that kidnapping and murder are bad. Personality is formed through home education, after all. With education like that, no wonder they’re called pointy-ears. It made me reevaluate Prince Keltas—he had relatively decent character for one of them.
“Aah… So that is what this is about. I understand, more or less. However…”
“However…?”
“All people die, whether they wish it or not—no matter how virtuous or righteous they may be. And the powerless are simply trampled upon, whether kidnapped or turned into playthings… That is the sole law of this world.”
“Aha, so it’s a law, you fucking law bitch… But there’s one more law in this world, you know?”
“What is it?”
“No matter how far one falls into being a fucking beast… don’t touch the children… That’s the one. Anyone who breaks it deserves to die, don’t you think?”
“This conversation is not establishing itself.”
I was a noble saint above all others, while that bastard was the most repulsive beast imaginable. It would be strange if conversation could be established.
“Still, I must commend you for landing a blow on me. Moreover, since I have interfered with your affairs, that too violates proper conduct. Therefore I must offer both reward and reparations.”
“Suddenly spouting what kind of grass-eating dog bullshit…”
That Lancelot bastard drew a book from within his robes. That black cover… the small gold chain ornament… that was…
“It was originally yours, was it not?”
“What are you doing with someone else’s book? Where does this fucker get off stealing books?”
“Strictly speaking it is not a book but a ‘holy relic.’”
Damn it. I was going to scam my way into getting it…
“Take it.”
The bastard threw the book to me. What if it got wet on this watery floor… Anyone who handles books so roughly deserves death.
“Why are you giving this to me? You can’t be unaware of how powerful a weapon this is, right?”
Especially since the book’s previous owner was Werner, it was extremely dangerous. Considering its unique effects.
“I told you—it is both reward and reparation.”
“Hey, where the fuck did you get this—”
“Should the opportunity arise, let us meet again.”
The bastard melted back into the darkness.
Ah, shit. The fourth song was gradually coming to an end.