Suffer Not the Shaman to Live (2)

"Prophet hunting, is it."

The voice all but growled. Rough black hair was hidden inside a hood, but the golden eyes — a beast of prey's eyes — showed clear and bright.

Marbas. Fifth spirit of the Ars Goetia, and President of the Hell Council. Lord of Plagues.

Name and majesty alike had survived the change into a woman's body, and her gaze was not one an ordinary person could easily bring themselves to meet.

"And is there a reason I ought to cooperate?"

"Of course there is."

The one facing her, however, was perfectly calm. No — she looked delighted, and grinned.

"All right. Let's hear this story of yours, Matthias Muerte."

Natural enough, if one thought about it. Where in the world would one find an Apostle who feared a demon?

"Mind you, this is only if you can explain it while deceiving a prophet's eyes."

"Let's just say I got a present from Santa, so we'll be fine."

If anything, it was far more natural that Marbas should be the one afraid of Alejandra. Alejandra had fought her once before and won in a rout, and how thoroughly she — he, of course, back then — had been broken could be judged well enough from the fact that fleeing a café while claiming the trauma was acting up would have seemed entirely plausible.

"The reason you're going to cooperate is simple. That prophet is a collaborator in the Vampire Syndrome."

"......"

"Well? Has that caught your interest?"

"...As it happens, yes."

Knew it. Alejandra was still beaming.

The domain the demon Marbas governed was disease in every form. An attempt at terrorism in the shape of plague, right around the place where he lived, would have struck him as deeply offensive — all the more because it stood a good chance of harming the contractor he cherished. Alejandra had judged that, offered a chance to beat that unpleasant wretch into the ground, the black lion would never refuse. She had been exactly right.

"Marbas. Do you know how to kill a prophet?"

"The surest way is to strike the limit of the prophecy. Even King Solomon died that way."

Foresight always has a limit. True omniscience cannot exist in this world, and slipping into that gap to strike from ambush was the surest method there was. Even the great King Solomon had fallen because someone aimed at the blur in a foresight grown dim with age — a very old tradition, as ways of dealing with prophets went.

"If you're facing someone who can see ten minutes ahead, you feed them a poison that takes about twenty to work. By the time they see the future in which they're vomiting blood and collapsing, it's already too late."

"Exactly. That's the second precept of Cassandra, too. This time is similar."

Alejandra nodded.

"The problem, if there is one, is that the Church still hasn't been able to pin that limit down for certain."

"Then what do you intend to do?"

"Feed them several poisons, each taking a different amount of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time to act."

"...If you simply feed them the one that takes the longest, there's no need to administer the rest, is there?"

"True. Poison is only a metaphor, anyway. And time, more than anything, is a difficult thing to control."

That was Marbas's objection. Alejandra answered it with a shrug.

"Which is why, to get inside the limit of time, we're going to use space."

"Space, for time? Relativity, spacetime, that sort of thing?"

"Much simpler than that. People describe space in terms of time all the time, don't they? 'Ten minutes by car,' and so on."

Something along those lines, Alejandra added. By the time you had stepped into the place, it would already be too late to get back out. Making that true was the heart of this prophet hunt.

"Wait. That story — don't tell me..."

"Whatever you're thinking, you're probably right."

She shaped her fingers into a gun and leveled it at Marbas.

"You lure them to where the executioner is waiting, and from a distance they absolutely cannot dodge — bang! But what if they foresee that and manage to avoid it anyway?"

"...You blow the whole car apart with explosives set in advance."

"And if they foresee even that and never come near the car in the first place, then this junction. If that still isn't enough, the entire street."

And so, step by step, you annihilate a wider and wider range — until you reach the limit of foresight, the point where the zone detonates before they can escape the danger area, even if they see it coming.

"...The maximum range. All of Tokyo?"

How far, in the worst case, were they prepared to blow things apart? Marbas said it with a crease between her brows.

"Ha ha."

Alejandra only smiled, and said nothing.

"Wait. That reaction — don't tell me it's the whole of Kanto?"

"Honshu."

"...What?"

And at the words that followed, Marbas's mouth fell open.

If a hostile prophet was powerful enough that only going that far could kill them, then it was well worth doing.

"...Right. Things have been so quiet lately that I'd forgotten, but you lot were always like this. The Church hasn't changed a bit since China."

"Well, even so, a scale like this is only possible because Seoyeon's in Japan, you know?"

Alejandra said it, though there was no real seriousness in the defense. She knew as well as anyone that the Church, from time to time, sacrificed a great deal for the sake of the greater cause. All she did instead was raise a single finger.

"Of course, we'd rather keep innocent casualties to a minimum. So there's a second plan."

"A second plan?"

"No — strictly speaking, this is the first plan, and if it doesn't go well, we shift to the chain of annihilation I just described."

Marbas looked at her as if to hurry the explanation along. Alejandra drew a sturdy-looking briefcase out from under the driver's seat and handed it over. It was quite thick, and heavier than it looked.

"What is this?"

"Ah. Don't even think about opening it. If anyone interferes with the contents at any time other than the designated moment — opening it, damaging it, seeing through it, anything of the sort — it's designed to explode on the spot."

"Tell me that kind of thing first! Damn it, you could have said so before you handed it over! And more to the point, why the hell are you giving something like this to me?!"

"Because what's inside is the most important piece of the plan for minimizing casualties."

Marbas shouted, aghast. But she had been told the case must not be damaged, so she couldn't throw it either, and was left frozen in an awkward half-crouch. Watching her, Alejandra chuckled and lightly traced a fingertip across the window.

"You do know the third precept of Cassandra, of course?"

"The Six Precepts of Cassandra. Where the hunting of prophets is concerned, they are guidelines no different from Holy Scripture."

So said Han Seoyeon.

"Mmm...?"

Hitomi, of course, could only wear ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a look that asked what on earth that was supposed to be. She had been promised word on how the investigation into last year's Christmas Eve Vampire Syndrome was progressing, and then this had come out of nowhere. For a moment she was simply stunned.

"Shion. You have skipped rather too much of that explanation."

Professor Senjoji Chihaya, who had been rummaging through a tower of printouts, whipped her head around and cut into their conversation. She seemed to have found what she was looking for; fluttering a single sheet, she returned to her desk.

...And then, for reasons no one could fathom, hopped up and sat on the desk instead of the chair.

At length her gaze turned to Hitomi.

"Ninomae. Why do you suppose I went to the trouble of summoning the two of you... no, that phrasing is a little inexact. Strictly speaking, this takes the form of Shion having asked me to call you to the laboratory..."

She set the printout down on the desk ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat.

"At any rate. Do you know why Shion arranged the occasion in this particular way?"

"Um... it's about countermeasures against the prophet, isn't it? You said there was a prophet among the members of that Hermes-something organization..."

"Precisely."

She nodded, satisfied with the answer.

Senjoji Chihaya possessed a body that did not appear in prophecy. Any conversation she attended was likewise hidden behind that veil.

"My role, you might say, is akin to a jammer for preventing eavesdropping."

"So... what does that have to do with this 'Cassandra' from a moment ago...?"

"In truth, very little! If one must draw a connection, they share the subject of how one deals with a prophet, and there the resemblance ends."

"...What?"

And once again a dazed voice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slipped out of Hitomi.

"I only said it because I wanted to sound impressive! Surely you have days when you feel like doing the same, Hitomi?"

"I do not have days like that!"

"A pity. ...Ah, but my remark that Shion's explanation was insufficient — that much, at least, was sincere."

The professor's gaze turned, this time, to Han Seoyeon. Seoyeon, seated in the guest chair, received that look and cleared her throat.

"Cassandra, then, was the name of a holy knight order that existed in the past."

In an age when the Church held far more power, and far more force, than it does now, holy knights existed in greater numbers and in a far more organized form. They were, for all practical purposes, the standing army of the Vatican. And among the groups of that era closest to what one would call special forces, there were those known as Cassandra.

Their principal duty was the extermination of hostile prophets. They were professionals of war against prophecy, and their code of conduct survives to this day, widely consulted as the standing rules for facing a prophet.

"Those are the Six Precepts of Cassandra."

"And the heart of this operation is the second precept."

For a short while, Han Seoyeon's explanation continued. It was precisely what Apostle Matthias, who had come to Japan a few days earlier, had explained to a certain demon forcibly turned into a woman.

"H-Honshu?! The whole of it?!"

Hearing that, Hitomi could only be appalled. This was not burning the house down to catch a flea. It was a declaration that they would set the entire country alight.

"It assumes nothing more than the worst of worst cases. Had the prophet been formidable enough that we truly needed to go that far, the terror attack last Christmas would never have been stopped."

Weighing the opponent's estimated strength, the Church conjectured that even the worst case would not extend beyond Tokyo. Reducing all of Honshu to rubble was merely something they intended to keep in a state of readiness, against the fear of a situation in which absurd variables piled upon absurd variables.

"Of course, for the sake of the aftermath, I must not be caught up in it. Ideally, I would be out of the country entirely during that period."

"And you're saying that to me now because..."

"Yes. I wondered whether you might care to take a short trip to Korea with me."

"U-umm..."

Hitomi made a sound as if she were thinking it over. But her eyes and her voice alike were thick with interest. Had she possessed puppy ears, they would have been standing bolt upright.

"B-but this is an operation where a lot of people might die, and for me to just slip away on my own — and spend the whole time being lovey-dovey and giggling with Shion — that's a little..."

"So the part where you are lovey-dovey with Shion is already settled, is it?"

"Urk. But no matter how I think about it, if we're stuck together the whole time, holding back would be impossible..."

Hitomi muttered it red-faced, in a voice that shrank as she spoke. The substance of it was bold enough. The question was how she could be quite so bold about it.

"Hitomi. This is not simply running away. It is the preservation of our strength, so that we may be certain of resurrecting the victims. There is also a Plan B capable of cutting the harm down to almost nothing."

"Mmmmm..."

"And above all, I simply wanted to go to Korea with you, even just onc—"

"I'll go! Yes! Absolutely!"

"As I thought. For Ninomae, that is what strikes true."

Hitomi had flung her hand into the air as she shouted.

"...S-so anyway, this Plan B. What is it?"

She herself seemed a little embarrassed after the fact. She looked away a beat too late, and in the end simply changed the subject.

"An operation founded on the third precept. 'Let them be struck because they saw.' — Do you happen to know this picture?"

Seoyeon seemed to consider for a moment, then found an image on her phone and held it out.

"Oh, that's the one, right? The picture that's supposed to kill you if you look at it three times."

"Yes. That is correct. By way of example, one shows the prophet something of that sort in the instant before the killing. A version that truly works, of course."

Fail to see the future, and you cannot avoid the trap, and you die. See the future of that moment, and you die all the same.

"Well. This is only an example. It would be difficult to put it to use in the situation before us."

There was no guarantee the opponent's foresight took visual form. They might be resistant to this sort of thing, or they might already have prepared for it in their own way.

"So what we show them will be this."

Seoyeon then searched up another image and held it out to Hitomi. It was the box art of a game.

"...Half-Life 3?"

Even looking at it, Hitomi could only tilt her head.

"Why this?"

"A series a great many gamers waited for, all the way up to its release, is it not?"

"Huh? Ah, yes. I suppose so. Though that was already years ago..."

"I am told that a prophet who once served as a close aide to a certain immortal was a fan of this title as well."

"So what does that even... huh?"

She seemed to have caught on. Han Seoyeon smiled faintly.

"When Miss Chiyo met Kan'in Tomoe in person the other day, the two of them hit it off over talk of works whose sequels never come out. That was it, was it not?"