The Net of Flesh
Remi. Callisto greeted her while tugging at his red threads, causing the surrounding blood bags to freeze in place. Callisto, a Student of the Thumb Body Faction, was a figure who had appeared out of nowhere. No precise information about him had been revealed yet—not his age, whether he hailed from the back alleys, or why he was with the Ring Finger. No one knew much about him. But there was one thing everyone in the Body Faction acknowledged: his profound understanding of the human body. He seemed to live solely for the exploration and comprehension of the pure, unadulterated human flesh.
While Lia and the surrounding Docents were flustered, someone clapped from behind. (Clap clap clap)
"Bravo... bravo!! What exquisite craftsmanship, Callisto."
A hat fashioned from bone marrow, it seemed. Only one person could wear such a thing: the Maestro of the Thumb Body Faction. The Docents bowed deeply upon seeing the Maestro.
"Maestro... we're sorry for the delay in handling this..."
"Handling? This is all part of our dear Callisto's performance—a grand show for the sake of art!!"
The woman pointed at Callisto with both hands and shouted.
"Overwhelming! So fantastically mesmerizing... Ah... ah... Callisto, you truly are the once-in-a-generation genius to succeed me... no, perhaps the most talented soul in the entire Body Faction!!"
The Docents were taken aback by her ecstatic fervor, but Callisto remained composed, bowing politely to the Maestro.
"Thank you for the praise... Mellow."
"Oh my... you know my name?"
"Indeed. I've heard much from those who visit to see your works—each one so beautiful and intricate, with proportions that make the body feel like a living organism, full of structure and vitality."
"Oh dear... oh dear... to think you'd recognize my art. I'm overjoyed. As fellow curators, sharing critiques of works only makes them better!"
She gazed at Callisto.
"If it's not too rude, what have you named this piece?"
At Maestro Mellow's question, Callisto smiled softly and glanced up at the blood bags dangling from the ceiling.
"Ah, this one? I've called it The Net. It depicts the final moments of fish swarming a lure for their prey."
Callisto pointed to the blood bags clustered and bound to the ceiling like baitfish. There were too many, too densely packed for mere wild beasts—vampires drawn so close together by the fine mesh of Callisto's red threads, like a spider's web.
"The way they rush in, alive and hungry for flesh and blood... just like starving fish chasing whatever glimmers before their eyes."
Mellow stared at him in excitement at his response.
"How ideal... such a perfect answer. Callisto, is there anything you desire from me...?"
Callisto pondered her question briefly before replying.
"No, thank you. For now, I wish to nurture my own convictions and reflections to pursue my unique art and originality."
Mellow gave him a troubled smile at his humble words.
"I see... no need to decide right away. Then, could you grant me one small request...?"
Callisto nodded.
"I'd like to buy The Net at a high price. Name your figure—you call it, and it's yours!"
"Mellow, really, it's fine."
"No, no... Callisto, I've simply fallen for your beautiful artwork."
She rolled her lovely pink eyes.
"I'm a Maestro. Money is no object. I want your piece—not out of mere favor, but as a customer."
"In that case, I offer The Net to you, Maestro Mellow."
Mellow struck a dramatic pose of profound emotion at his gracious, sweet words.
"Thank you so much, Callisto. Name any price you wish."
She happily accepted the red threads.
"Oh, and... I'm truly sorry, but could you indulge one more request...?"
"Anything."
Callisto smiled in reply.
"I'm afraid I have to go on a business trip... Could you take my assignment to Thumb instead?"
"Thumb...?"
"Ah, Lia the Docent can brief you. If it's inconvenient or anything troubles you, just tell her, and she'll relay it to me."
Callisto bowed to Mellow.
"I will complete the task you've given me."
Mellow smiled and turned to Lia.
"Lia, if Callisto needs me or there's any issue, report straight to me. If he faces any injustice in Thumb, inform me immediately."
Lia bowed her head.
"Understood, Mellow."
"Then I'll be off."
She waved to Callisto one last time and left the gallery.
....
Lia watched Callisto with mixed feelings, but fortunately, they wouldn't head to Thumb right away.
"Lia, may I go grade the assignments from the back-alley residents and students in the meantime...?"
Lia nodded at Callisto's question.
"That's fine. But when the day comes to go to Thumb, you must leave immediately. I have to guard the gallery, so I can't accompany you... but I believe you'll survive anywhere, Callisto."
She truly thought so. He was the Body Faction's unparalleled genius, a prodigy of the ages. Hadn't they just witnessed it? The Maestro herself praising him fervently. For a mere Student—not even a Docent—to earn a Maestro's recognition was extraordinarily rare.
"If you need anything or face discomfort, tell me directly."
Callisto smiled warmly in response.
"It's alright. Relying blindly on others breeds incompetence. Forging my own path through growth and experience is the finest way to comprehend art."
Callisto accepted no one's aid. Only his effort and values fueled his obsessive, fantastical art. Perhaps if he became a Maestro one day, he'd ascend solely through his own merits.
Callisto spoke politely with a smile.
"Then, Lia, I'll take my leave."
Lia nodded.
....
The back alleys of the city. Unlike nest residents, those living in the back alleys received no protection. To gain the back alley master's safeguard, one paid protection money to a Finger... or, in a peculiar case, completed and submitted assignments from the Ring Finger. Of course, becoming a Fixer to protect oneself was faster than paying up—but that was for the strong. The weak and powerless had no choice but to rely on the Fingers.
The Fingers' might rivaled the Wings'. Thumb churned out bullets like factories. Middle Finger gathered superhumans empowered by reinforcement tattoos. Index offered protection if orders were followed. And finally... Ring Finger protected those who submitted assignments well...
In one back alley, a woman rummaged through a dumpster for food.
"Ah... strike out here too..."
She'd been scouring the area's bins for scraps.
"Sigh... empty-handed again... whatever, no family to feed anyway."
She grabbed her bag to leave, disappointed, when—
"Ho... in such a hurry?"
Men wielding machetes and clubs leered at her.
"Leave everything behind."
She sighed, surveying the thugs.
"Sigh... look, I got nothing. Why else would I be digging in trash?"
The leader smirked, as if expecting that.
"Your face is pretty enough, and that body's not bad either."
His expression turned lecherous. She grimaced, drawing a dagger from her bag.
"Hahaha... look at that toy. What're you gonna do?"
"Touch me, and you're dead."
"Don't worry. With a body like yours, Ring Finger'll pay top dollar."
"What...?"
"Ring Finger. They might turn you into art. Nice eyes, nice body—could make a fine statue, eh?"
The leader sent two men at her.
"You guys are misunderstanding... I'm under Ring Finger protection."
She pleaded desperately, but he just snorted.
"Hmph. If you're protected by Ring Finger, I'm under Thumb. Boys, tie the merchandise without damaging it."
As he barked, red threads fluttered faintly from somewhere.
"...Red threads...?"
The men reaching for her were suddenly bound head to toe, then shredded to pieces.
"What the— which bastard—?!"
A towering man smiled down at her.
"There you are. Sorry to keep you waiting, Remi."
The woman called Remi hid behind Callisto like a shield.
"Where've you been?! I almost died to these jerks!"
She pounded his back.
"Haha, the Maestro summoned me. Looks like I'll be heading out for a bit."
He yanked something from one of the corpses he'd made.
That's... bone...?
Callisto ripped out the ribs and spine in one pull, weaving tendons and tissue into a sword shape.
"Living Bone Sword... my specialty."
Callisto's unique talent: crafting weapons from living bone and flesh.
Callisto improvised a weapon on the spot. He shaped the muscle into a sharp blade, interlacing tendons from the ribs section by section, forming a complete sword. The ribcage grip connected to muscle via countless tendons and vessels, tautly pulling the blade—it looked alive.
Callisto turned to the woman behind him.
"Remi. Allow me to show you the Body Faction's art... vividly."
"Eh...?"
"This is a lesson. Etch it into your eyes."
The gang leader panicked, but Callisto swung the Living Bone Sword heedlessly. Each swing tensed the tendons linked to the ribs.
"Shall we dissect your remaining beauty together?"
Thugs struck by the blade had bones and guts torn apart, screaming in agony. Callisto plunged his hand deep, yanking veins and tendons, immobilizing and slowly killing them.
"Veins and arteries. The different hues of blood mingling... ah...! So artistic!"
Others counterattacked to kill him, but...
"The audience's eager participation... not bad!"
Callisto's innate strength proved he was no mere artist, but a formidable fighter. His long arms and legs moved freely, lightly and precisely overwhelming them.
To those fleeing, Callisto smiled, plucking the red threads laid around.
"Gahk..."
Sharp bone shards erupted from the ground, impaling the runners.
Body Gap. Traps Callisto set mid-fight—bone fragments to lock down or damage foes.
"Just as I'm about to explain the artwork... fleeing is quite rude, no?"
His smile terrified the rest. Callisto yanked all the red threads at once.
Crack...
Bound thugs thrashed. Some were diced, others crippled.
Callisto approached the cowering leader slowly.
"How is it? What do your eyes see...?"
"Hiiik...!"
"I'm curious about your impression. What does it look like to you...?"
"Ah... ah..."
The man could only repeat himself in terror. As Callisto questioned him, he drew a knife from his clothes, lunging for Callisto's throat.
"Gahk..."
"Vandalism is strictly forbidden."
The leader spewed blood and collapsed cold.
....
Once cleared, Callisto approached the woman.
"Remi. Why wander such dangerous places alone...?"
"What, you gonna feed me if I stay put? Gotta roam to eat."
"I offered food and lodging, and you refused."
"Hah... you think I'd become one of your 'works'?"
"I don't understand. Roaming like this risks a fate worse than becoming art..."
Remi slapped his hand away.
"I wanna live... not become a work. I'm human, unlike you. You're a good guy—why think like a monster...?"
"...."
That was the day Callisto first met Remi.
As a Thumb Body Faction Student, he oversaw art school students and graded back-alley residents' assignments, conducting business as usual.
That day, he encountered her in the back alleys. She scavenged trash for food and submitted assignments to Ring Finger for shelter and protection. Assigned as her Student evaluator, Callisto graded her work.
"Not bad colors. But it lacks the cruelty and gore of true art. I'd say... B-. At least not failing."
She sighed in relief. Her materials came from back-alley corpses or grave-robbing when short. She struggled to survive.
Callisto couldn't fathom it. Materials littered everywhere—why not kill the unworthy and use them? Why grovel to live?
His questions resolved soon after.
"This piece... falls short of expectations. Even generously... C. A shame."
Trembling in her eyes, she clutched his clothes.
"You won't score lower, right...?"
Seeing her desperation, Callisto nodded silently.
"Correct. Your art still holds value."
She smiled for the first time.
"Good..."
Tears of relief? He'd never seen her smile—always servile, cringing. Now she beamed.
At first, mere curiosity. He brought food to the trash-rummager.
She was wary, but her stomach growled, and she devoured the ham sandwich ravenously.
"May I have your name?"
She hesitated.
"Remi..."
She eyed him cautiously.
"Remi... a fine name."
He approached, but she scowled.
"'Nice name'? Haha... it's a rat pup nickname—'cause I dig trash. Back-alley trash call."
"Ah, I see."
"No real name. Born and raised here. No clue where from, no parents."
She spoke emptily.
"Funny... struggling to survive when dying'd be easier..."
Callisto bristled.
"Nonsense! Death forfeits life's essence!"
She burst laughing.
"Hahaha... you're a weirdo. First real laugh ever."
Clutching her belly, she eyed him.
"Callisto, right? Heard from other Students and folks. You're popular."
He shrugged.
"Popularity matters, but I seek recognition through my art alone."
"Total weirdo. I hate that gross stuff."
"Gross? You're just unaccustomed to gore and grotesque."
They talked long. Next day, and the next. Callisto brought sandwiches daily. From favor to fast friends.
One day, Callisto asked.
"Remi, why not live with me instead of this?"
Stunned, but his terms swayed her: steak twice daily over ham sandwiches, pasta, seafood alternatives; bed, paper, brushes, paints, a studio room.
Best: "No more using people for art. How's that?"
Perfect for her. Their cohabitation began. Clashes sometimes, but they shared stories intimately. She always welcomed him home. They'd cook and laugh.
"Many fear my long arms and legs. Baffling."
"Duh, a 3-meter giant approaching? Normal to flinch."
"Nonsense! I'm 2.8 meters. Please correct that."
"Same diff..."
Callisto shook his head.
"Strictly different. Few match my height for comparison."
Remi fascinated him—she wasn't scared.
"Remi, am I not frightening?"
"A bit at first. But you're formal, kind, respectful—rare. I really like you."
Blushing, she buried her face in a pillow.
....
The day Callisto went out as usual, Remi wandered his home and found something suspicious. A hidden room, unlike the others—his studio, perhaps. Opening it haunted her forever.
Inside: missing back-alley folk sculpted as living statues. Eerily lifelike—perhaps taxidermied alive. Horrified, she backed away.
Anatomy charts, diary, photos of her sleeping as bookmarks.
Trembling, she opened it.
Shocking contents filled the pages...
"...."
Remi froze, speechless. Time passed. One day, Callisto called her to a suspicious room, handing her white cloth garb. Tools everywhere: saws, implements for separating bone and flesh.
"Remi. You entered that room."
She crumpled the cloth at his words.
"Then you know what I want."
"Yeah..."
"I want to preserve your beauty forever."
Callisto reached slowly. Slap. Remi smacked his hand.
"Pervert freak..."
She shredded the cloth before him.
"Stupid me, living with a monster like you..."
She fled.
And now. Remi slapped his hand again.
"Was I... that unappealing...?"
Her eyes brimmed with tears.
"...."
"You were the most comfortable... but you just wanted to kill me..."
"....That's not it, Remi."
She glared with hatred and stormed off.