Irool's Resolve Aligns with Mine
Irool's opinion matched mine exactly. He'd set aside his deep-seated disgust, his worries, and even his nightmares to make the choice that would save the girl's life. We weren't the ones making the final decision, but I hoped—at the very least—that this sincerity would sway Elama's heart, even just a little.
That's what I clung to.
"...Anyway, those damn kids who can't even think from another person's perspective."
Even with the client right there in front of him, Elama wore his complicated emotions openly on his face. Razma, the next highest-ranking auditor after him among the on-site staff, remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on the girl. I wondered what the two of them were thinking right now. At the very least, Razma ought to empathize with Rainy's suffering, since she was undead like him. And above all, being from the guC faction, he'd surely support this loan.
The audit report wouldn't be decided by majority vote, but Elama was human too—he couldn't just brush off a tiny life like this without a second thought. At least, that's what I wanted to believe.
"I have no other desires. I just want to treat this child. I can imagine what the bank is worried about. But as a doctor, I don't want to let God take her away."
Whether living or dead, as long as a soul existed on this plane, he wanted to help it continue its life. There was no reason to deny the conviction of a doctor with such an excessively pure wish.
"Understood. We'll go back and prepare the report."
Elama sighed heavily, as if the ground might cave in beneath him, and nodded.
"Just... don't get your hopes up too high. As you know, it's a highly sensitive matter."
His words said one thing, but his expression was one of resignation. Instinctively, I realized he'd been convinced.
* * *
On the way back after finishing the hospital audit, I pulled out my smartphone to check the message I'd missed earlier. There was one new notification in the chat app—from Oatanocha.
To be precise, it wasn't a message. Just a single attached video file.
"What's this?"
I wanted to check it right away, but something about a video from Oatanocha gave me a bad feeling, so I couldn't open it in front of the other bankers. I held off until I returned to the Kikiwai branch, wrapped up the rest of my work, got home, and finally lay down alone in bed.
And then.
"......"
I was stunned.
The camera, hovering high in the sky, captured someone's figure. A radiant angel with brilliant wings. A whole city vanished, swept away by the massive sword of light he swung.
"What the hell... is this?"
The angel slowly turned his gaze, staring straight at the camera filming him from above. And that face—it was all too familiar. It was Irool.
* * *
In Great Huuriten's capital, Linden, not far from the Dimensional Credit Vault HQ, two bank executives were conversing in a hotel lobby. Both were former military bankers from the guE faction, under Nesmento's command.
"Elama submitted his report."
"Started on it the moment he got back? Consistent as ever, that diligent bastard."
"They say it's leaning in guC's favor."
"Doesn't matter. We'll know for sure tomorrow."
The lower-ranking man with glasses looked extremely anxious, but his superior showed no sign of worry.
"Wasn't the audit department's angel supposed to make a move today?"
His impatient subordinate risked ruining the mood and asked the question burning in his mind.
"Ah, so that's what you thought."
"Yes."
"The plan's been slightly adjusted."
The superior sipped his coffee nonchalantly and continued.
"You have to detonate a bomb at the right moment for it to have value."
"What does that mean, if I may ask?"
"It means everything in the world has its proper timing. Don't worry about Dimension 16. guE is made up only of those who don't make mistakes. You know it's an insult to even suggest the thread we've grasped might slip, right?"
The man bowed his head quietly, convinced by his superior's relaxed smile.
"How could I dare..."
"The general has it all planned out—just trust and follow. If we use this chance to sweep those disgusting undead scum from the board at the next meeting, I might even aim for an executive spot next year."
"If guD just stays quiet, it's definitely possible."
The two bankers clinked their glasses with sleazy grins.
"If it all plays out right, we might even get to watch those guC fools dance."
Imagining the show that would soon start just for them.
* * *
Unexpectedly, the guD board members raised no objections to Elama's submitted report. They argued that saving the child's life would improve the Dimensional Credit Vault's public image.
Things had gone exactly as hoped, but the guC directors—who'd prepared all sorts of materials expecting pushback—felt a hollow sense of emptiness.
In the end, the board's decision was passed to the personal loan approval department, and Marcus Bernard's loan was swiftly approved.
The executed loan funds hit Bernard's account and were immediately withdrawn by more than half that same day. The budget went mainly to hiring technicians and purchasing materials.
The design for the magitech medical device to fully anchor Rainy's soul to her body had been completed long ago. It took just ten days to manufacture the machine in a sterile facility following the blueprints.
Bernard's masterpiece, which yielded positive results in animal trials, passed the authorities' rigorous but expedited review process. It was granted limited use under the condition that insurance wouldn't apply.
And on the day of the procedure, a group of Dimensional Credit Vault bankers—including several from the guC faction—gathered in Dimension 16.
Bernard had wanted to exclude everyone from observing the surgery, but he couldn't refuse the bank's request, since they'd provided the loan.
"Then, we will now begin the procedure to treat the undead's soul dissociation syndrome."
One way or another, to give the child the rest of her life.
The doctor picked up his scalpel once more.
* * *
"This is already scary as hell."
I voiced my honest feelings.
We were in the director's office, monitoring the operating room in real time. Irool and I, along with about a dozen other Dimensional Credit Vault bankers, watched Marcus Bernard perform the surgery from there.
The custom medical device he'd commissioned looked like a transparent glass tank, surrounded by all sorts of incomprehensible machinery plastered everywhere. Among them was a transparent, elongated hose connected to a cylindrical tank, ending in a massive scythe.
No clue how any of it was supposed to work, so all we could do was watch in silence.
"Brother Jian is so kind-hearted."
"Hm?"
Irool, whom I hadn't seen in days, was staring at the same screen when he suddenly said something odd, startling me.
"If Brother Jian hadn't stepped forward, I probably would've stayed silent."
"......"
"The child hasn't done anything wrong. Isn't it ridiculous? Me, an angel, acting like this. People would laugh if they knew."
Guilt, relief, and a swirl of other emotions churned across Irool's face as he spoke.
"It's fine. You and I made the right choice."
"...Right?"
"Well, technically, the board decided after reading the branch manager's report. But honestly, how could we abandon a kid like that? We have to help. Probably good for the bank's image too, right?"
"Yeah, the important thing now is saving the child."
As we talked, on the screen, Bernard finished prepping and picked up the scythe attached to the long tube.
"Looks like it's starting."
Among the bankers standing and watching the screen from the director's office, two waiting nurses moved about, distributing prepared documents. Since Bernard couldn't explain during the surgery himself, they planned to detail the bank-funded surgical machine via these pre-written materials.
"Impressive."
The machine's operating principle, as described in the documents, was simple.
Conventional necromancy used the soul's lingering attachments to this life as material to craft a "cage" and trap the soul inside. But for soul dissociation patients, repeated attempts to leave the body damaged that cage—and once aware of the body's death, the soul never returned after departing.
The root cause lay in the undead with dissociation having thinner, weaker—or entirely absent—links connecting soul and body compared to others.
Bernard's solution was straightforward: create a new, sturdy, unbreakable link between soul and body.
Whirrrrr!!
The next instant, the massive scythe on screen began emitting a brilliant light.
Bernard, wearing a peculiarly designed metal gauntlet on his left hand, slowly moved the blade to slice away a portion of Rainy's skull.
"...Hm?"
It was a sight that would've made anyone with a weak stomach vomit on the spot. But I noticed something off.
No blood sprayed—not a single drop.
Rainy's head looked intact in the operating room camera feed. Bernard's left hand, not holding the scythe, gripped something like translucent mist.
"That's... a soul reaper. An angel's sword that cuts souls directly. Where the hell did he get the blueprint for that..."
A scalpel that could interfere with souls. My head spun at the impossibility, but I kept my focus on the surgery unfolding on screen.
Hummmm...
As Bernard pressed the flat side—not the blade—of the scythe against the thin strand still linking Rainy to her soul, the transparent hose attached to it glowed.
The scythe's surface rippled like water, and the severed soul fragment was sucked through the hose into the connected tank.
Curious what he'd do next, I flipped to the next page of the distributed materials.
"Monatomic gold?"
As I read the explanation, the soul fragment's tip inside the tank began to writhe. Boiling bubbles.
According to the documents, Bernard was performing "Soul Reception"—granting physical form solely to a portion of the soul.
The dream of all alchemists, mineable only in Nanoi. Powered by the miraculous energy of vast quantities of monatomic gold, just the very tip of the soul fragment transformed into a tiny lump of flesh.
If it was true that he'd used the pain and memories from electrodes directly jabbed into her pineal gland as material for the bridge linking soul and body, then Bernard was an utter madman who'd walk through hell to achieve his goal.
But if the outcome was right, I could never deny him—not ever.
Pop!
When Bernard detached the scythe from the hose, the severed soul piece flowed back into his hand like reverse suction. He carefully embedded the tiny lump of flesh at its end into Rainy's brain, then repositioned the cut skull piece.
The "link"—processed while connected to the soul, now possessing properties of both flesh and spirit—anchored securely in Rainy's head like a dropped anchor.
All that remained was for the flesh at its end to be safely absorbed by her body.
"...Surgery complete."
With the weary voice of Bernard, the grueling three-hour major surgery came to an end.
And right then.
"This heretic doctor shall face judgment!!"
The camera captured a madman strapped with bombs all over his body bursting through the operating room door.