EP.2 — Mountains of Corpses, Seas of Blood (9)
Holding back an opponent without harming them was a surprisingly difficult thing to do.
"Ugh, these things just keep coming!"
Siren shouted as she swung her sword. But instead of cutting into flesh, her outstretched blade did nothing more than knock a liquor bottle from a woman's hand. Shattered glass sprayed in every direction, one shard raking across the woman's cheek — yet the glassy-eyed woman showed no hint of pain, simply staggering onward toward her.
"Damn it!"
Zero and his siblings were suffering just as much. They were half-blocking the slow-approaching women with their bodies, shoving them away or knocking them down with as much care as they could muster. It was a fight several times more demanding than simply swinging a blade and cleaving apart everything in front of them.
For warriors who had never fought this way before, these women were proving far more troublesome foes than the mercenaries on the main stage or the syndicate soldiers they'd met in the staff corridors.
This is harder than I thought.
Zero knocked out a charging woman with the flat of his blade, his gaze drifting toward the far end of the VIP lounge where Ash had vanished. He never once doubted that the young master would end all of this — but the endless wall of humanity was slowly gnawing away at that faith.
And then, it happened.
"...Huh?"
The staggering women all stopped at once.
"Ugh... aaah...!"
As if struck by a vicious migraine, they clutched their heads in perfect unison, like actors following a rehearsed cue.
"AAAAAGH!"
Pained screams filled the lounge. Then, all at once, they crumpled to the floor like marionettes with their strings cut.
Every single one of them, at the same moment.
At that bizarre yet long-awaited sight, Siren and Zero found themselves turning to look at each other.
"I think Sir Ash did it!"
"Then let's go too!"
Zero replied to Siren's bright cry, and the two of them exchanged a quick nod before leaping over the fallen women and sprinting toward the Room of Contemplation. The remaining three ninjas followed silently at their heels.
"I suppose it's through here?"
With nothing left to bar their way, they reached their destination in no time. They clambered over the golden door, crumpled like wet paper, and finally stepped inside the Room of Contemplation.
What greeted them was a half-destroyed, unconscious Aria and a fainted old man — and standing motionless before that tableau, deep in contemplation, was the humanoid: Ash.
"Young Master."
At Zero's words, Ash turned his head. His optical sensors flickered.
"...Ah, there you are. What became of the ones you were fighting?"
"All neutralized. The signal amplifier must have been here, I take it?"
"That's right."
"Excellent! Then everything is finished at last!"
"I would like to believe so, but..."
Ash lifted his head to gaze at the wall of dense monitors.
"Somehow, I have an ill feeling about this."
"Pardon? What do you mean by..."
Just then, Siren, who had been glancing around the room, muttered as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes.
"That swirl mark..."
Her dark eyes trembled faintly.
"Isn't that Vortex Energy?"
At her murmur, Ash answered.
"So I wasn't seeing things after all."
Vortex Energy.
The massive corporation that supplied most of Sanctum's electricity. Not a single light or system in the city could so much as run without their say-so. In the truest sense, they were a corporation with the city's veins in their grip.
That staggering influence had given them an unusual position — one even the three great corporations known as the Trinity could not casually push around.
And yet — why? Why would their emblem, that iconic swirl, surface in a filthy back alley of Underland, at the very heart of Memoryphilia?
Ash looked up at the swirling festival of vortexes still blooming across the monitors, and simultaneously activated his main core, piecing together the vital clues scattered around him like fragments.
Come to think of it, quite a few things didn't add up.
For instance, the incomprehensible confidence Maestro had shown. Right up until the torture began, the man had radiated an almost uncanny self-assurance.
He had also bought time — using the mercenaries, the syndicate soldiers, even the memory-wiped women as shields.
He had even wasted breath on pointless banter when Ash arrived at the Room of Contemplation, when fleeing would have served him far better. He had staked his very life to buy a few extra seconds.
Wait. He staked his life?
In Ash's judgment, Maestro — the old man even now lying unconscious — was not a man with the gall for such a gamble. And yet he had stalled instead of running...
Ash's optical sensors flickered.
No. What if, rather, he couldn't run?
A far more terrifying enemy. What if an overwhelming terror, far greater than Ash and his party tearing through Inferno, had been gripping the man by the ankles? What if he knew that fleeing the threat would only lead to an even more horrifying death at its end?
The fragments of thought, swirling like the Vortex emblem itself, gradually began to bind together into one.
Memoryphilia... is Vortex's subcontractor?
The moment the thought arrived, another question followed. What could a corporate titan like Vortex possibly lack that they would join hands with an Underland gang?
They even have their own independent societies...
Just then, something Santa had once said surfaced between the circuits of Ash's main core.
— Vortex Energy is the same. Their core value is 'efficiency.' They judge emotion and desire to be inefficient elements and purge them without mercy.
Dreamweaver was a technology that edited human memories to order, allowing people to be manipulated like puppets. Surely it could strip away emotion and desire as well. Efficiency, and Dreamweaver — quite the convenient correlation, wasn't it?
Ash's optical sensors glowed.
...What if this isn't a subcontractor at all, but a laboratory? Just like with Omnicell — a laboratory hidden away in Underland for the sake of human experimentation!
Of course, all of this was only Ash's hypothesis.
"Nnngh...!"
Right on cue, the old man who could prove it woke from his stupor.
Maestro. He pried open his swollen eyes with effort and rolled his gaze across the crowd, larger now than before.
"So you're finally awake, Maestro."
Ninjas in black techwear stepped up beside the old man. A murderous aura Rolled off them, sharp enough to suggest they might tear him apart at any moment.
The one wearing the tiger mask among them — Zero — spoke in a low growl.
"I'm told my younger siblings suffered at your hands. As their elder brother, I intend to collect the price."
He reversed his grip on his blade and drove it straight down toward the old man.
-Shwaek!
The sword fell at blinding speed. But it never reached Maestro's brow — it stopped dead in midair.
"Hold a moment, Little Hero."
It was Ash's hand that had stopped it.
"...Young Master."
Ash had drawn near without a sound, and he patted Zero on the shoulder as he continued.
"Just a moment. There are a few things I need to confirm."
Zero studied Ash briefly, then slowly stepped back. Ash crouched down to meet the old man's eyes, his optical sensors glowing.
"Now then. Time for another round of questions and answers."
"Heeek! What now..."
"The one standing above you — it's Vortex, isn't it?"
The old man's eyes snapped wide open. He was, evidently, quite startled.
"I'll take that as a yes. Then how about this? Dreamweaver was never Memoryphilia's technology — it was Vortex's all along?"
The old man's eyes went wider still. Evidently, very startled.
"Your face gives everything away. You make for wonderful conversation. One last question, then. Memoryphilia is in truth Vortex's subordinate organization, in charge of its human experimentation — yes?"
The old man's eyes bulged as if they might pop from his skull.
"H-how could you possibly—"
"A fine conversation."
Ash rose to his feet and turned to Zero.
"I've confirmed what I needed. See to your business."
"Are you certain? He'll never answer questions again after this."
"I know."
"In that case, gladly."
Zero and his siblings advanced on Maestro. In the meantime, Ash walked straight over to the signal amplifier he had activated moments ago — and drove his blade into it.
-Kwadeuk!
In the same breath, he channeled lightning-force surging along the blade.
-Jijijik! Kwajijik!
The machine shrieked as it went up in flames.
"GUAAAAAAGH!"
Maestro's final, ragged scream rang out in unison with it.
Siren drew up beside Ash and spoke in a trembling voice.
"Sir Ash... what did you mean by that? That this place — that Inferno was actually a human experimentation site for Vortex?"
"So it would seem."
At Ash's calm confirmation, the color drained from Siren's face instead.
"Then... that means we've just touched a Vortex laboratory. Right now."
"Unintentionally, but that does appear to be the shape of it. Vortex's support forces will likely arrive soon."
"Dear God..."
Her voice shook. Vortex Energy. The very weight of the name. This was a problem on an entirely different order from clashing with Underland gangs.
"What... what do we do?"
"Hmm. In moments like these, there is but one course of action."
"There's a way? What is it?"
"Of the thirty-six stratagems, the best is to run."
"R-run... pardon?"
Ash's optical sensors turned toward her.
"It means run. Now."
Leaving the Room of Contemplation behind, they sprinted back the way they had come, at a speed that made their earlier pace look like a stroll. Not a single soul stood in their way.
But that silence offered the group no comfort — if anything, it felt ominous. Like the stillness before a storm.
When at last they reached the lounge where the Revenant was parked, their dark premonition materialized before their very eyes.
"...We're a little late, it seems."
Beyond the shattered front door, a force beyond counting had already surrounded Club Inferno.
Dozens of dazzling beams of light swept toward the lounge interior — most likely the flashlights in their hands and the headlights of the vehicles they'd arrived in. Thanks to the glare, the enemies' faces were impossible to make out. Only rows of black silhouettes, aligned with unnerving precision, shifted in the dark.
"Oh no...!"
Sensing something deeply wrong, Zero drew his blade. His siblings and Siren did the same.
But Ash did not.
The instant he spotted the encircling force, he flung open the Revenant's door and dropped into the driver's seat.
-Bu rrung!
The massive engine roared awake. At the sound, the entire group whipped their heads around.
"Uh... Sir Ash?"
"Young Master?"
The bewildered Zero and Siren called out to him, but instead of answering, Ash only shouted in haste.
"What did I tell you? We run — now."
"That was still in effect?!"
"Never mind that — everyone aboard, quickly!"
At Ash's urgent cry, the group scrambled to sheathe their weapons mid-motion and went hurtling toward the Revenant.
-They're running! Fire!
As if reacting to the group's movement, the encirclers' muzzles vomited flame.
-Ta-ta-ta-tang!
Dozens — perhaps hundreds — of rounds poured down like rain against the Revenant's armor plates. Without a moment's hesitation, Ash slammed the pedal to the floor.
-BUAAAAANG!
With a deafening roar, the Revenant's colossal frame charged head-on into the improvised defensive line of Vortex troops sealing off Club Inferno.