Stop This Bullshit. (4)
The corner of my mouth curled upward. My eyes curved into round crescents. Simply put — I wanted to kill. I wanted nothing more than to see that twisted, vicious face drown in terror.
[Brother…, rep… ent….]
Those limbs. Every knuckle of every finger. The fingernails. I wondered what kind of expression he would wear after I'd torn them all off. How euphoric would those screams sound, begging me to just end it? How lovely would the wet slap of blood dripping to the floor be? I found myself curious.
[Brother…, rep…, ent….]
So I chanted the spell.
「Enhance Strength」
「Swiftness」
Divinity spread faster than usual, winding through my body and breathing vigor into every corner of it. My frame felt lighter. When I swung the mace with a low whoosh, a heavy, meaty thud rang out. It felt perfect for killing a man.
And whether something about my appearance struck him as wrong, the man visible in the distance began edging backward — shuffling, clearly scheming to flee. But did he realize it was already too late? With an enhanced body, this distance could be closed in an instant.
KWAAANG—
I drove strength into my legs and slammed them hard against the ground. The mace stretched back behind me, ready to swing the moment I closed in. The floor split beneath my leap, spraying stone dust.
"M-Madman…!! Uwaaagh!!"
The criminal's scream reached me a beat late, as he finally grasped the situation. His wavering frame turned frantic, and without so much as a glance back he began sprinting in the opposite direction.
Except.
Crunch—
He no longer had the legs to run on.
"Khhk…?! Khh—mmph!!"
I pressed my foot down over his mouth to smother the scream. If he cried out now, the others might get away. If I meant to kill every last one of them, I had to deal with this quietly.
His bloodshot eyes had flooded with terror, and his body shuddered uncontrollably — a natural consequence of the severed legs, presumably.
[Brother, calm your…self. Get a grip….]
Right. First, the fingernails. A shame the toenails were already off the table, both legs gone as they were — but he still had hands. Tear out the nails, dislocate each finger in turn. Then sever the wrists. And gouge out those two eyes that dared glare at me. I smiled at the thought.
"Uu-mmph…! Mmph, huhh-mmph…!!"
Tears of blood had begun streaming from his eyes at some point. They traced down his cheeks and soaked into my dress shoes. Filthy. How dare a common criminal. I ground my foot down harder on his face at the thought.
"Mmph, mmph…!!"
His pinned face gradually turned red. His eyes bulged wide like a balloon about to burst, and the one arm still free to move seized my leg. Yes — killing him like this wouldn't be bad either. Plenty more were left to kill, so there was no need to mourn rushing one. And so I moved to crush him dead beneath my foot—
[Brother, get a hold of yourself!]
—had Niger's voice not finally come through loud and clear.
"Huh…?"
What the hell is this?
It was the exact same scene as the day I'd shaken hands with Professor Prodi. These were my actions, and yet the alien sensation that I hadn't done them. Niger's voice — surely the reason for it — echoed in my ears.
[Now that you've come to your senses, cast the Calm spell first. Judging by the state you're in, brother, I'd say you need to stack it at least twice.]
Suppressing my bewilderment, I recited the sacred spells as he instructed.
「Calm」
「Enhance Mental Strength」
The spells began to take effect, and the dizziness seemed to ebb a little. I blinked several times, and only then did my vision start to return to normal.
"Mmph, mmph…!"
As I shook my head and steadied myself, a small whimper rose from beneath my foot. Looking down, I found the criminal sobbing with his mouth sealed under my sole. A briny stench washed over me alongside the reek of piss. I turned my gaze toward his lower half — both legs severed, blood pooled thick on the ground, and his crotch soaked damp through it all. Apparently he'd let loose with everything he had, convinced death was seconds away.
"Ugh, goddamn it."
I yanked my foot back, and the criminal's sobbing swelled.
"P-Please spare me…. Please, it was all my… fault…. I was wrong, I was wrong, I… I was wrong…."
He couldn't even string a sentence together, too busy begging forgiveness, and I moved to answer him.
"Hurph, hueeek…."
"S-Spare me…. Mmph…!"
And then the criminal vomited all over his own face.
[…You truly are a piece of work.]
Hey, I'm not doing this on purpose. The smell of blood — no matter how much I take it in, I never get used to it.
I did spare the criminal, in the end. Reattached his legs so he could walk, roughly healed him up, let's say. I'd only left him alive to serve as a guide to the criminals' den. Though I suspected he'd be dead the moment we reached our destination. By Niger's hand, not mine. Because even now my hands were trembling with the urge to kill.
I shoved the scattered thoughts aside and spat words at Niger.
"So how come you're perfectly fine, Professor?"
I mean, the moment I laid eyes on the criminal, I went half-mad and did the insane thing of lopping his legs off first — so why does the actual killer feel nothing? I'm the one dragged into his emotions, and I'm the one who gets screwed for it. Unbelievable.
[Once you grow accustomed to it, it becomes tolerable. Accumulate experience.]
"Fuck, what a thing to brag about."
[…Fuck?]
"What?"
Fu-uck. What?
Nothing scares a man who, thanks to a murderer, is living through things he never wanted to experience. Even now I was trudging along behind the criminal, swallowing down the urge to throw up.
[Ha…, enough. Save the muttering and keep your feet moving.]
I didn't answer. Because the criminal leading the way had turned to look at me like I was a lunatic.
"I-I'm sorry…! Sorry, sorry. I'm truly sorry. S-Sorry…."
"That's enough, so hurry up and walk."
Even so, whenever our eyes met, he'd drop his head and stammer out his apologies. The problem was that staring at him for more than three seconds made him piss himself.
Oh, there he goes again. At this point, hasn't the guy developed bladder damage from the PTSD? I frowned at the rising stench of urine — and because of it, the criminal soaked himself all over again.
[Truly…, you piss and shit in tandem.]
"…."
You're telling me.
And so, following the criminal, we finally arrived at the criminals' hideout.
"H-Here it is…."
He spoke carefully, stealing glances my way.
"Thank you for your service."
"Th-Then you'll spare me…?"
"That's why you should repent through death."
SPLAT—
His head burst, scattering brain matter in every direction. Flesh and sticky bloodstains clung to the wall, slowly oozing down toward the floor.
[Ah, fuck.]
"Don't curse. Get used to it."
Because by then, Niger and I had already swapped control of the body.
Niger naturally knocked on the door before him.
"Who is it?"
A husky man's voice came from inside, and the mace swung toward the sound.
KWAAANG—
One light swing of the mace, and the heavy iron door burst apart.
"Gaaakh…!"
The man who'd spoken from within writhed with iron shards embedded across his body, and with a dull thud, his head shattered just like the other criminal's had moments ago.
Blood dripped from the mace — and flesh along with it.
And so euphoria welled up. A smile spread across Niger's face, his eyes blazing a vivid blue. With every skull he crushed, his emotions surged higher.
"Wh-what the hell is that crazy bastard doing all of a sudden…!"
A man at the far end of the corridor spat the words at the sight, and Niger's gleaming gaze swung toward him. The corner of his mouth lifted. Then, just like me earlier — drunk on madness — he kicked off the ground with nearly identical movements and charged.
[Hold on, Professor. You're far too worked up right now.]
I hurriedly called out to him, but—
SPLAAAT—
The only answer was a human body bursting like a balloon against his mace, and a smile steeped in madness.
"…Repent through death."
[Repent my ass — calm down first, I'm telling you.]
SPLAT—
Another criminal burst apart.
"Through death."
[No—]
SPLAT—
Two more died on the spot, spliced clean in half at the waist by the mace.
"Repent."
[You absolute son of a—]
SPLAAT—
"Gaaaakh…!?!"
"Do not wail."
And whenever one failed to die in a single blow, Niger's eyes lit up. Just like the impulse I'd felt earlier, he was making real the torture of crushing them slowly, one by one.
"Mmph, uuumph…!!"
Ten minutes. It had been a mere ten minutes since Niger entered, and the scene had already drowned in terror.
No — you crazy murderer. You said it would get better with experience. You said you were used to it and could keep it under control. That was twenty goddamn minutes ago.
Niger ignored even my words and began to rampage. That composed gentleman who told me to calm down and get a grip — I have no idea where he's gone.
Just.
The sight of human bodies bursting apart made bile climb up my throat, and yet with no control over my own body, I couldn't even throw up. I hated that reality.
Seriously.
Please, for the love of god, stop this bullshit.