Ch.42Ch.4 – Perfect ■ ■■ State (■)

The dog-like mannequin let out yelping cries.

It was a life-sized doll, the kind commonly seen in clothing stores. Its face was uncannily half-human, making it unsettling. Only its jaw moved meaninglessly, opening and closing repeatedly.

While its head and torso remained relatively intact, both shoulders and lower body were shattered to pieces.

Two henchmen wielding sledgehammers meticulously smashed the broken fragments.

The other subordinates split into two teams. One group stood guard with guns and set up barricades, while the others installed dynamite.

Though the sewer pipe was sturdy and massive, years of neglect had left cracks throughout, with the connecting joints showing particularly severe corrosion.

“It’s a decoy operation. They’re planning to detonate the explosives when someone comes to help the mannequin.”

They already knew their opponent wasn’t human. Some organization members had fled the scene where Salvatore’s head was torn off.

The claim that they’d sent only the elite of the White Hand didn’t seem entirely false.

Thud.

The entire sewer shook. It was the distinctive resonance of something heavy falling in an enclosed space.

The mannequin trembled and screamed. Looking closely, I noticed its neck wasn’t made of wood.

It had black and white spotted markings with fur—I suspected it might be flesh from a large stray dog.

Thud! Thud!

From the far side of the sewer, wax dolls emerged, holding metal plates as shields.

Glass eyes were visible through horizontally carved grooves. The mafia opened fire. Sparks flew as bullets pierced the metal plates.

Pfft. Pfft. Bullets lodged in the mannequin’s body, but with reduced impact, they continued advancing.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Torio signaled. The mafia members retreated—a calm, pre-arranged movement.

They conserved even their bullets. One shot each, three at most. Just enough to calm their nerves while adequately provoking the mannequin.

Eventually, the shield-bearing mannequins lifted the torso-only doll. It was still screaming.

A hitman with a Springfield rifle on his shoulder aimed at the dynamite attached to the upper sewer pipe.

Torio and the other mafia members took cover behind the barricade. Abashina and I quickly covered our ears.

“- – – – – -“

Even sheltered around the corner, the shockwave reached us. With a thunderous explosion, the pipe collapsed.

It took some time for the dust to settle. When Torio barked orders, others responded briefly. No one seemed injured.

As the dust subsided, the mafia members dusted off their clothes. Because the terrain was solid and the pipe thicker than expected, it wasn’t completely destroyed.

The pile of stones that fell from the ceiling only reached about 1/4 of the pipe’s height.

Still, it was enough to bury the mannequins mimicking humans.

“Check it.”

Following Torio’s order, organization members approached. Though they aimed their guns, most seemed relaxed.

No matter how monstrous its strength, it was essentially a wooden doll covered in wax. Being damaged beyond recognition was only natural.

“Nothing to worry about.”

The members exchanged jokes. Among the rubble, the mannequins’ heads, arms, and legs protruded.

Like marionettes with cut strings, they lay limp.

I tried telling Abashina that the White Hand’s elite seemed to live up to their reputation, but she didn’t respond.

Her already pale face had turned ashen.

“Be careful!”

Her sharp voice echoed throughout the sewer. Startled organization members stepped back.

“W-what’s going on?”

Thanks to this, they could see the limbs writhing among the rubble. They weren’t completely neutralized.

They had deliberately exposed parts of their limbs and heads to attract attention, while other parts crawled like snakes through the debris!

“Aaaagh!”

There was no time to react. Three organization members fell on the spot. The arms, legs, and heads that emerged from the rubble tore their bodies apart.

“Torio! Aaagh! Torio!”

“Shoot!”

Those who had retreated fired without hesitation. They shot without hesitation at those who had been their comrades moments ago.

But it was too late.

The torn bodies of the organization members disappeared under the rubble. Like rats scattering when suddenly caught in flashlight beams, they vanished instantly.

Thump…

The pile of stones stirred. The writhing form fully raised itself.

Its torso was a patchwork of human and doll bodies, six differently shaped heads sat above the neck, and arms and legs were attached randomly all over the body, resembling a sea urchin.

“Torio.”

“Torio.”

“Torio.”

Despite some heads being partially severed and some even pierced by bullets with visible skull interiors, their mouths chanted Torio’s name.

The mafia members screamed and shouted as they fired. This wasn’t the calm shooting from before. It was panicked, indiscriminate firing.

“Torio! Torio! Torio! Torio! Torio!”

It approached, walking, crawling, rolling, and flailing its limbs.

The different heads cried, laughed, growled, burst into laughter, shed tears, and wailed “I’ll kill you,” “kill me,” “save me.”

Someone threw a stick of dynamite.

It caught the flying bomb and threw it back toward the mafia. Just as the mafia members dove in all directions—

Pfft.

Abashina rushed forward. It was a speed I’d never seen before. Her long silver hair made her almost impossible to follow.

After snatching the dynamite, Abashina barely touched the ground before leaping over the creature’s head.

“Sister!”

Torio shouted, but his subordinates couldn’t respond rashly. If they shot carelessly, they might hit Abashina instead.

The creature howled and swung its appendages.

Abashina kicked at the heads and fired Thompson bullets into the approaching arms and legs.

When her ammunition ran out, she discarded the gun and shook her left arm vigorously. A long awl emerged.

Abashina gripped the awl upside down and drove it down toward the creature’s nearest foot.

“Uuuuuuu!”

The six heads wailed. Abashina quickly shoved the dynamite into one of their mouths.

Then she flung herself backward. It was brief. Just as the others and I rushed to pull her away—

“Bang.”

Abashina raised her right hand. The beast staggered and stopped.

[Bang bang, shooting doesn’t make you faint. If I look at you straight like this and you don’t fall under hypnosis, how can you be ‘human’? Humans are supposed to fall under it no matter what]

It was human. That creature was human. That monster was clearly human, though joined together!

Abashina retreated quite a distance. The beast, regaining its senses, shook its head.

Just as it tried to pull out the dynamite, a Derringer pistol sprang from Abashina’s right arm with a click.

It was the same pistol she had shown me when we first met.

Flash. Fire. Screams and shrieks. The second explosion rocked the sewer pipe again.

In that precarious moment, I managed to pull her away.

“Ah. Ouch.”

Abashina grimaced. Protruding rubble had torn her nun’s habit. Blood flowed through the gaps.

The creature still twitched intermittently, but with all its heads blown off, it seemed unlikely to do anything more.

I embraced her. Her face had a bluish tint, perhaps from the sudden exertion. Still, she tried to force a smile.

“Did I… do… well?”

Before I could tell her she’d done well, Abashina suddenly twisted her body.

“No!”

A long wooden stake pierced her body. Her slender frame shuddered. Abashina, seemingly unaware of what had happened to her, looked back at me and said,

“Beast…?”

Then she collapsed.

“Formation! Get into formation!”

The mafia members regrouped at the hitman’s instruction. The creature stirred and raised itself from the rubble! It threw whatever it could grab!

Splash, splash, splash!

Someone ran from the far side of the sewer. Though human in shape, their faces showed no trace of humanity.

They were dolls wearing human skin. Five wore water department uniforms, two wore military uniforms. Those in military uniforms held small wooden boxes.

“Fresh? Is it fresh! Krafamli! It must be fresh, right?”

A human voice came from the wooden box.

“Uaaaah!”

Two subordinates with sledgehammers rushed forward. The doll in military uniform fired an automatic pistol.

In the light, the wax doll’s face was beautiful and utterly cold. The mafia members fell one by one.

The water department dolls rushed over and stuffed the dead organization members’ bodies haphazardly into the creature.

Soon it stood upright. Though bleeding from above the neck,

Torio

Please save me

Save me

Torio

Don’t abandon me

A deeper resonance came from its body. It sounded like a chorus of many people.

“Ugh. Gu..uuu…”

Bloody foam formed at Abashina’s mouth. I wiped her lips with my collar. Torio, looking down at us, put his gun on the floor.

Torio Torio Torio Torio

Torio took a cigar from his front pocket. He struck a match against the wall, lit it, and approached his loyal hitman.

“Torio.”

“You’ve worked hard.”

It was clear English. The most accurate pronunciation I’d heard from him so far. The man wearing a white glove only on his right hand embraced his lifelong subordinate and patted his back.

“Don Torio!”

The hitman wailed. The organization’s old lion slowly moved his steps.

“Stop. Must. Must stop…”

I covered Abashina’s mouth. She shouldn’t speak more. I couldn’t carelessly pull out the stake that had pierced her.

“Yes. It’s me.”

Torio took a deep drag of his cigar and stood before the creature. Even facing the mixed corpses of those who were once his subordinates, his lifelong comrades, he remained detached.

Torio. Let’s go together.

“We should.”

Torio pulled out dynamite he had taken from the hitman. He lit the fuse with his cigar.

With a hiss, the fuse burned rapidly.

The creature and the water department dolls lunged at Torio. Torio shouted.

“This is for Salvatore!”

Bang!

The weakened ceiling couldn’t withstand a third explosion. The water pipe collapsed.

Careful not to disturb the stake, I shielded Abashina’s body from debris. I felt a dull pain in my back.

Abashina made a thin, high-pitched sound. It was a bad sign that air was escaping from her lungs.

“No. No.”

She shook her head.

Whether she was trying to say it was regrettable or that it wouldn’t work, I couldn’t tell. I lifted her body.

Thud! Thud!

Something pushed aside the rubble. A massive creature—a mixture of humans, stones, and mannequins—emerged from the pile.

Human heads were embedded in rows on its back, legs were joined to legs, and teeth were inserted at the ends of its arms.

The hitman fired his last bullet.

The massive creature grabbed the hitman by each limb and pulled. Then it attached them to its own body.

Perfect perfect Krafamli I finally did it with proper stimulation they can move even after death Professor Halsey I was right I was right

There was a particularly noisy head with glasses. Blue eyes flashing with madness. I guessed this head must be Herbert West, whom Crayfield had mentioned.

Right next to him was a wax doll head. It looked slightly different from the others. It

resembled

me.

It made eye contact with me.

The massive beast stopped moving. The other heads looked at the head that “resembled me.”

“Survive.”

It spoke to me. I asked what it meant.

“Every protagonist has a helper. Every saint has a martyr.”

It struggled to continue speaking. *You* notice that it’s straining itself.

*You know that he is holding back his forcibly expanded, hypertrophied body with superhuman endurance.*

It left its last words.

“Look at me. Testify like me. And never come back.”

[Wisdom burrows into your head like a midnight serpent.]

[You hear a heavy drumbeat. Heavy. Monotonous…]

[A faint flute sound reaches your ears.]

* Only you can set everything right *

* Please continue reading if you wish to accept the quest and intervene in the situation. *

* Please stop here if you do not wish to accept. *

.

..

…

….

“No.”

Abashina clutched my chest.

….

“No. Don’t… don’t tear apart anymore. You must remain yourself… don’t become something else. Don’t hand yourself over.”

A labored sentence, as if reciting last words. Abashina exhaled a feeble breath. I pulled her closer to hear what she was saying.

“Mea culpa…”

She grabbed the stake in her abdomen. Then she pushed it back with all her might. Blood flowed from the pierced wound.

“Mea culpa…”

Abashina reached out to caress my cheek. The massive creature regained consciousness and moved again.

I drew my revolver with my right hand and shot at it. With my left hand and arm, I supported her body.

“Mea maxima culpa.”

[Mother Superior Abashina bites your shoulder and takes your blood]

A strange, dreamy feeling spreads throughout my body. As if under anesthesia. Like having a pleasant dream.

“Hup…hit….up…eut…”

Abashina’s fangs dug into my shoulder, and her tongue licked the wound. Each time I felt a pleasant sting, she trembled.

“Hu..hu…ung..aheu..ut…”

Her breathing became clearer. The blood flowing from her body stopped. Like frozen ground welcoming spring, her body now awakens.

“Haa…haa…wub…u…a…at. At. Aut!”

Abashina arches her back. Her strengthened hands grip both my arms.

Moon-like silver-gray eyes turn red. Her slender body trembles as if about to break.

From deep in her throat rises an ecstatic moan of happy corruption.

The moistened flower bud

blooms fully.

[The Last Blood Clan Leader, Abashina rises…]

Abashina stood up. Her skin is clearer than ever before. The wounds visible through her torn nun’s habit are gone.

The Blood Clan Leader unfastened her cross necklace. She tightly bound the chain around her left wrist and pushed the cross into her fist. Then she clenched it tight.

Abashina gave me a faint smile. As if in her right mind. As if everything was fine. As if she was still here.

Then she turned toward the massive creature and commanded.

“Punish.”

The massive creature rushed at her, flailing its limbs. It tried fiercely to tear her apart.

But it couldn’t touch even her torn nun’s habit. Abashina commanded in an eerie voice.

“I punish you with the blood you defiled. I enlighten you with the sins you committed. I judge you with the humans you harmed!”

Blood flowed from the massive creature’s body. From the forcibly joined seams, from its mouth, from its pulled-out arms.

Each time Abashina waved her hand like a fisherman pulling up a net or a hunter skinning hide, blood gushed from the creature’s body.

The massive creature rushed at her, howling in an unknown language, the language of Babel, formless words.

Abashina commanded.

“Antonio Salvatore! Where are you!”

A piece of flesh fell from the beast. It was his stolen vocal cords. Blood the size of a teacup swirled around Abashina’s left hand.

[Abashina knows how to read blood]

Abashina’s body convulsed. It was because Salvatore’s blood carried memories of pain, love, and life.

“Ellen Halsey! Where are you!”

Gurgling, a human-sized blood mass fell from the beast. It howled like a hybrid of human and dog.

When Abashina placed her left hand on its head, it immediately became docile. It too wrapped around Abashina’s left arm.

“Eric Molenk Krafamli! Harry Smith! Pietro Gentile! Where are you!”

Here I am!

Here I am!

Here I am!

Now the beast tore at its own body.

Like a sinner who finally realizes their sin, like one who has enlightened themselves, almost like a human.

Their sins. Their unspoken love. Their obscene desires. All flowed into Abashina one by one.

The beast’s shell fell away piece by piece. The wax fell off. Now it became a single, whole human.

Blue eyes. Eyes flashing with madness. It was Herbert West.

The madman stubbornly looked up at the Blood Clan Leader.

Now wings of blood fluttered on the Blood Clan Leader’s back. They were white like angel wings and red like sacrificial doves.

Abashina placed her hand on West’s head. She was crying. West was smiling.

“Another failure. I suppose it wasn’t fresh enough.”

West sneered. Abashina carved letters into his forehead with her fingernail.

<H e r b e r t West>

And quietly. Like a prayer. She pronounced.

“Annihilate.”

Light burst forth.

[Herbert West has been annihilated]

Among torn corpses and broken mannequins. Abashina stood. No wings. No West. No beast.

Only she and I remained standing.

[She “denies” part of herself. What is denied and suppressed sometimes manifests in unexpected ways]

I approached Abashina. Gently placed my hand on her shoulder. Abashina hung her head.

“Am I… like a monster?”

“No.”

I answered. What did I say last time? What did she tell me to say?

“You’re beautiful.”

“Kik.”

Abashina turned around. Her eyes had returned to silver-gray. But her cheeks still glistened. From tears that continued to flow.

“Instead of becoming a monster, you chose to sin. Only humans can make choices. So…”

Just like the bookstore’s tomato, I gathered incomprehensible words. Abashina lightly kissed my lips.

“When you have nothing to say…”

I felt a sharp pain in my right side. She had pinched me.

“You should say I’m lovely.”

Abashina lost consciousness. She was still breathing. I carefully lifted her up.

Like newborns having good dreams, she tightly clenched her hand.

Her left hand, holding the cross.