Ch.190Request Log #016 – Transformation (1)

“Ah, yes. Dr. Lysander. It seems the company has decided not to invest. Perhaps it’s because we couldn’t find a way to remove the curse and the need to continually bring in corpses…”

It was time to finish what I had started when using the alias Henry Davis. The idea of transferring and removing the curse wasn’t bad, but the inability to completely eliminate the curse was definitely a problem.

Just as important as ensuring our actions were of our own choice and will was cleanly eliminating curses like Hexenbane did. Even transferring them to dead bodies only weakened the curses.

There was certainly potential, but the Veterans Association wasn’t in a financial position to invest in mere possibilities.

Those of us who wore various gleaming crosses on our chests could at least receive pensions, but the war bonus we received was only 60 dollars. None of my comrades had enough money to invest.

If I’d known it would be like this, I should have started detective work earlier rather than participating in the Great War. Sixty dollars was exactly three days’ worth of allowance. The Professor had sneered that we received less money than Revolutionary War veterans.

What little money we had was collected for the Rat-Catcher’s wife. I’d made sure there was a way out so she wouldn’t need to feel sorry, but I decided to feel sorry anyway. It was something I had to do.

Dr. Lysander, whose hopes had been greatly inflated only to be rejected, was quiet. He could have sighed deeply enough to sink into the ground, but he didn’t, and instead answered in a composed manner.

It wasn’t actually a composed voice, but he seemed to be trying to appear that way. He seemed to have decided not to greedily desire money that wouldn’t have been his anyway.

“Ah, I see… No, please don’t apologize. It would be strange to apologize for not giving me money that wasn’t mine to begin with. And you just gave me a clue, so what are you sorry about? A way to remove curses… I’ll have to look into that more. I’ve been treated like a parasite by the Necromancy Medical Association for years anyway. Well then…”

He hung up without adding anything else. He must be feeling anxious, and it would be difficult to pretend to be fine. It was a consideration of sorts. Or at least I tried to think of it that way.

I craved coffee more than work. I still had quite a bit of money left after working for The Morrígan, so visiting Cafe Caligula would be nice. It had been too long since I’d seen Levi.

It wasn’t simply that I hadn’t seen Levi for a long time, but that I’d been away too long from the things that came to mind when I saw her. People weren’t made to fight, so occasionally one needed to fill life with something else.

Nevertheless, I put on my coat not because it was getting chilly, but to wear my holster. After putting an “out of office” sign on the door, I drove toward Fifth Avenue. As always when going to see Levi, I felt my tension ease.

It was a busy time for Cafe Caligula. The cafe’s sign, reminiscent of a Roman-era coin, was gently swaying.

It was definitely a busy time. As lunchtime was beginning, the streets were full of people, and Cafe Caligula was no exception. I quietly entered through the door as usual.

Levi, looking much more relaxed than usual, perhaps because she’d hired an employee, waved at me. She stood up from where she’d been leaning against the counter and approached with quick steps.

“Welcome! Ah, Marian, this is Michael, a regular at our cafe, and Michael… this is the new employee I just hired! Work should be a bit easier now. And I’ll be able to chat when Michael comes in.”

She said with her hands on her hips. At her voice, a woman wearing the same apron as Levi turned around. She was a dwarf. I didn’t have particularly good feelings about that race, but there was no need for prejudice.

At the very least, it wasn’t unpleasant that her bright and energetic nature was visible. The woman spoke with the typical boisterousness of dwarves—though it had been a while since I’d heard it.

“Ah, so you’re the customer the boss said she’s going to make a pretty penny from. I’ll be seeing you often from now on. Really!”

The fact that she was repeating Levi’s joke suggested she wasn’t a bad person. I raised my hand in greeting—the same hand that had shot sixteen dwarves dead just days ago. It didn’t smell of blood.

“I don’t come that often. And I don’t let Levi fleece me that much. Oh, if you ever want a day off, let me know secretly. I’ll take Levi out that day.”

The dwarf burst out laughing. Levi looked quite embarrassed, but it wasn’t too bad to see.

“Ah, haha, well I’ll be. I may not be a red like those Idealists, but I won’t turn down this kind of worker benefit. Let’s meet secretly next time!”

She was too bold for it to be secret, so Levi didn’t caution her. I could at least welcome the fact that I could talk with Levi alone, just like monopolizing bartenders at a bar.

I sat on a stool and waited for her to naturally make the coffee I usually drank. When the cup was offered, I paid with coins.

I gulped down a sweet coffee with plenty of milk and sugar, almost looking like an elvish coffee. Of course, I only felt half the heat, and my palate was twice as strong as normal.

Levi had seen this before, but she still opened her eyes wide every time. It felt good to hear her concerned voice again.

“Ah, I told you not to drink it like that. You’ll hurt your throat. Should I get you a glass of cold water?”

“You know I’m fine. Ah, nothing much happening at the shop? You even hired a new employee, and not some good-for-nothing who doesn’t want to work but wants money, but a dwarf like that.”

Dwarves were originally a race notorious for their diligence. If you gave them a job in the morning that would take three days working six hours a day, they’d call you in the middle of the night asking, “Should I deliver it now?”

They were inflexible but diligent, which made them seem quite naive… but these days, meeting such dwarves wasn’t common. Levi spoke with her lips slightly pouted.

“I’m about to get upset because she seems to get along better with you than with me. Is that why you’re asking?”

“Ah, why? Levi, I said if you want a day off, I’ll take you out. I didn’t say I’d take that woman out and put in a good word for you. Isn’t that enough?”

“You shouldn’t expect more than that from a friend. But still…”

I was just thinking about ways to spend time in this city that was slowly entering the beginning of autumn, when a loud noise and screams were heard from outside the cafe. There was the sound of bricks or something breaking.

Through the windows of Cafe Caligula, I could see people fleeing. What’s going on? The street had been peaceful until just a moment ago when I parked my car. Having my plans for relaxation ruined was extremely annoying.

Some of those fleeing pedestrians poured into Cafe Caligula. They rushed in as if believing that the thin glass wall of the cafe building could somehow protect them.

By the time those people stopped gasping for breath and making panicked noises, the sound of a troll’s roar spread. It was as loud as Giuseppina’s roar, but it wasn’t Giuseppina’s voice.

One of the customers who had suddenly rushed in shouted. It had taken just fifteen seconds for everyday life to shatter.

“P-please call the police! There’s a fight at the Italian restaurant across the street, and, well, please call quickly!”

Given the troll’s roar and the fact that the fight was at an Italian restaurant… Was this a conflict on a day when I’d finally found some peace? It seemed misfortune didn’t discriminate by timing.

I couldn’t understand why peace was already cracking when it hadn’t been long since we’d made a peace treaty with the Irish half-bloods. Maybe it would have been stranger if it had lasted longer.

Levi rushed toward the phone at the back of the shop, and Marian quickly handed glasses of water to the customers who had rushed in. Providing service even at times like this was something only dwarves could show.

Still, she was close to the window. If it really was the mafia fighting, hiding behind the window wouldn’t be wise. I approached the dwarf who was calming the customers who had poured in.

“Gather them further inside. If it’s the mafia, they’ll start shooting, and there’s no need to stand by the window and get hit by stray bullets and shattered glass.”

“Ah, that’s right! Please come inside for a moment! Since we don’t know what’s happening, I’d appreciate it if other customers could be a bit considerate!”

I needed to go check what was happening. After all, I was the only one who wouldn’t die if hit by a stray bullet. I drew my gun from my coat.

I had come well-prepared for a visit to Levi. The saying that a man can go out without a suit but not without a gun had often saved my life.

“I’ll go see what’s happening, so stay here. Don’t raise your head, and it won’t take long for the angels to get here, so just stay put. Understand?”

“Ah, yes! I understand!”

It was strange to see Fifth Avenue with so many cars and pedestrians gone at this hour. The sounds of fighting were coming from inside the Italian restaurant. I crossed the street with my gun drawn. Another troll roared.

It was shouting something, but not in a language I could understand. It was Italian. I knew one troll who couldn’t speak English and only knew Italian.

She was as big as Giuseppina but more capable than her, and for a female troll’s shout, it was filled with pain. I needed to see what she was fighting.

As I slowly approached the restaurant, something red flew out through the restaurant door. It was too large to be a piece of meat, and too red like raw meat to be a creature with skin.

It slowly raised its body. I was only confused because its shape was a bit different, but it was something I knew very well. Arms and legs made of excessively muscular red flesh, black eyes densely covering from head to forearm, and a huge mouth that diagonally split half of the head—it was an abomination. An abomination created by the Germans using curses.

But the shape was strange. Those made from humans usually resembled human form, but this one was much shorter and wider… it looked like a dwarf.

Are they using curses on their own people now? The dwarf veterans of the Great War had been quiet. The troll I had seen at the meeting hall last time ran out of the Italian restaurant on two feet.

She was holding a shotgun. It was a double barrel, but due to her large size, it looked only about the size of a pistol. She pulled both triggers simultaneously, embedding bullets in the abomination’s chest.

The chest won’t do. Abominations died only when their heads were smashed. The troll saw me holding a gun and shouted something. It was Italian again, but she shouted once more in brief English.

“Shoot it!”

If possible, it would be best to tear off its head completely, but shooting would be enough. I aimed precisely at the head of the creature that was trying to get up despite being shot in the chest.

I pulled the trigger when it shook its head to regain consciousness. I didn’t stop at one shot. It would be better not to shoot at all than to fire just one or two shots. Including the one in the chamber, I fired a total of eight shots.

It still wasn’t enough. After replacing with the spare magazine in my holster, I approached the abomination, which was clutching its head with both hands in pain, and pulled the trigger again.

Gunshots, not commonly heard on Fifth Avenue, rang out as if from a corner of the slums. The acrid smell of gunpowder wafted from the muzzle. What I had expected when coming out today was a peaceful holiday, not this.

The shiny black eyes, whose inner thoughts couldn’t be discerned, burst open, and a black, oil-like liquid that didn’t look like it belonged to a living creature flowed out. A non-human blood also flowed from the bullet holes in its skin.

The abomination looked at me while suffering. It roared. Abominations often had sad expressions, but this time… it was a face full of hatred. It started running, pushing off the ground with both hands.

Although abominations were strong, they weren’t good at changing direction. I ran toward that horrible red flesh. When it jumped at me, pushing off the ground, I threw myself in the opposite direction and rolled to avoid it.

The abomination planted its face on the ground more ungracefully than I did. As it barely raised its body, it began to spout words that had become inarticulate due to the changed structure of its mouth. I couldn’t understand.

“Chiwoo! Chinoo! Chi, chihoo! Aaaaargh! Kkeuk, aaaaargh!”

It was clear that because of the bullets lodged in its head, its target had changed from that large troll to me. After quickly getting up, I briefly glanced toward the troll and held out my palm.

Now the troll seemed to remember me too. Believing I was someone she could trust, she handed me her sawed-off shotgun before the abomination could charge. It was a loaded gun.

This time I wouldn’t dodge. With a reliable 12-gauge shotgun often used by female trolls in hand, there was little need to avoid anything.

There was no reason to fear an abomination I could face even with bare hands. I just didn’t want to reveal that I was a member of the Argonne Invincibles in such a public place.

The abomination charged again, pushing off the ground. It threw itself at me as if to crush and smash me. I willingly stood still to let it do so. Fortunately, I couldn’t understand what the troll was shouting.

I waited until it opened its mouth wide as it pounced on me. I waited until its abnormally long arms almost reached me, then aimed at the palate of its drooling maw and pulled both triggers.

This wolf-hunting shotgun, which the mafia called “lupara,” made a very satisfying sound. The double-barrel shotgun’s uniquely exhilarating explosion-like gunshot rang out, and the abomination collapsed on the road in front of me.

“Got any more bullets?”

I crushed the abomination’s thumb, which was still squirming, with the heel of my metal-reinforced shoe. I ejected the empty shells and reloaded the shotgun with two bullets thrown by the troll.

Two gunshots rang almost simultaneously. The road looked as if someone had thrown pomegranates on it. I kicked the hand with the crushed thumb to check if the body was moving. It wasn’t. Completely dead.

It was clutching a crumpled cigarette pack in its hand. It was the very brand I often smoked.