†Chapter 3: The Fight Outside the Cage†
†Chapter 3: The Fight Outside the Cage†
“ERICA! Why did you let them arrest Zelaide?! You’re horrible! How could you? He’s innocent!” Euphemia charged, barging into Erica’s office.
“…Can you lower your voice, please? It’s echoing in my ears.” Erica sank into her office chair, worn out.
Euphemia rarely saw her sister look exhausted. Erica never showed fatigue at work, even when they were alone. She still had a full day ahead of her too.
“You look tired,” Euphemia said softer, restraining some of her anger.
Yelling at the only person capable of helping wouldn’t improve the situation. Erica’s secretary and aides waited outside the office to give the siblings space.
“I’m sorry… But I’m not baselessly claiming his innocence, Erica. He doesn’t have any reason to kill the prostitute…to kill Manuela. He has no determinable motive, and even if he had one, he’s currently my bodyguard,” Euphemia attested. “He’s a professional. He wouldn’t ruin a limited-time job opportunity by committing such a blatantly obvious murder. I mean think about it, he hunts some of the world’s most carnivorous creatures, why not just toss her corpse to them rather than leave it defiled where anyone can find it?”
“I can piece that much together myself, thank you,” Erica sighed. “This is clearly a threat aimed at me.”
“Then why—”
“That was an arrest warrant with an authentic authorization number. In other words, the chief of police officially ordered his arrest. Arguing the point with officers acting under official orders wouldn’t help Zelaide, you, or me. Zelaide went with them without a fight because he understood that. You can’t figure that out?” Erica asked, rebuke edging into her tone.
“…I know that, but it’s a trap. Once they have him in custody, they won’t let him out again…”
“Even so, we have to play by the rules of this city. He bought us time.”
“…Time…” Euphemia repeated.
“Yes. Now it’s up to us to carefully and daringly make things happen. We are going to repay Zelaide for his help along the way.”
Erica’s logical explanation rendered Euphemia speechless. She collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy thud. “Was that your plan all along? I’m sorry. I panicked…”
“You did. You acted rash and without thinking. Confessing your love in front of our enemies essentially shackled Zelaide and put an even greater target on his back.”
“…It did, didn’t it? My confession is a burden…for you, too…”
Saying she loved Zelaide in front of Erica’s two anti Beast Blood proponents was a dumb move, even if it was the truth—no, especially because it was true. She realized that after she calmed down enough to think straight. Overcome with regret, Euphemia buried her face in her hands.
“I’m always so dumb, never thinking before I act…”
Erica exhaled a small sigh and offered a wry smile for her remorseful sister.
“We can’t do anything about the past. What matters now is coming up with our next move. I’ve allowed my opponents to act first and suffered for it. With Zelaide’s arrest my options are limited. On the bright side, we can now determine who set him up and perhaps discover the true puppeteer hiding in the shadows.” Erica swept her bangs out of her face.
“The enemy assumes I can’t do anything without damaging my position because they brought the police into this, but I’m not such a fool to have no connections at the precinct,” she continued. “My net might not be as wide, but I do have my own supporters who will act without drawing attention. Let’s start by investigating what evidence they fabricated and submit it.”
“Erica…”
“I won’t forgive them for cruelly taking someone’s life just to overthrow me.”
Erica is furious…
The always calm and logical Erica was enraged. Euphemia sat up straight and realized this wasn’t the time for her to whine and do nothing. This was where she needed to become a wise and bold woman capable of crossing swords with an unseen enemy.
“You convinced me, Erica. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Didn’t you have a police officer friend?”
“Yes. Wei Lin-jie.”
“I’ll look into him.”
“Why? He’s a good guy. You suspect him?” Euphemia defended one of her few good friends. Wei would be moved to tears if he knew. But Erica wasn’t so lenient.
“You know, it’s about time you learned it’s dangerous to judge people based on their outward personality. I trust the facts I have researched. And not even the facts tell you the whole picture. I draw my conclusions about a person after I have looked into them from various angles.”
“…What will you do after you look into him?” Euphemia asked, leaning forward on the couch.
“I’ll use him if he’s as good as you say. He’s a normal police officer, so he will have an easier time poking around than us. Contact him when I give the okay, Mia. I can’t be the one to ask him. Be extremely careful not to bring up my name,” Erica warned, brushing a stray hair behind her ear.
“Got it. You proceed using your methods, and I’ll proceed using mine.”
“Were you even listening to me?” Erica panicked, sensing the underlying danger in Euphemia regaining her usual stubborn calm.
She knew her younger sister never backed down once she made up her mind.
“You’re planning on going back out there, aren’t you? Don’t. I understand your feelings, but for the time being behave under my protection. Any action you take will throw mud on Zelaide’s sacrifice.”
“I’m stubborn and dumb, but not that dumb. I won’t go back to my apartment or Zel’s house. I’ll be your annoying house guest for the time being. Under one condition: let me continue my research.”
“You want to keep working?” Erica sighed. “That’s the last thing you should do right now.”
“No, it’s exactly what I should be doing. I’ve been crossbreeding the gerbils and have finally created an immune generation that only eats Night Blooms. They have a huge appetite too. If I can increase their numbers, we could literally nip Nightz in the bud. At the very least we will be able to reduce its numbers. There is also the possibility of my gerbils leading police to illegal Night Bloom farms too!”
“I’m opposed to it. You will become their next target… It wasn’t long ago that the biker gang attacked you. I won’t let you out of my sight until I have a feasible lead on who to go after. Don’t even think about asking me to have the Guardians escort you to and from work. I can’t use them for personal reasons.”
“My research doesn’t have to be done outside your protection,” Euphemia suggested with a smile.
“What do you mean? Ah! You can’t possibly be thinking of…” Erica pressed her hand against her temple. She had a bad feeling about where this was going. Her foolhardy little sister’s brain was running in full gear.
“Exactly that. I’m going to have my adorable gerbils come to me,” Euphemia announced with delight. “I’m not going to stay locked up in this tower doing nothing. I can fight back against the enemy in my own way.”
“Hold on! Are you going to turn the clean and sacred City Hall into a gerbil nest?”
“How rude! My gerbils are as clean as City Hall. Anyway, I’ll make it work out. Size is about the only thing this place has going for it. The real problem is how to get the gerbils and equipment here. You also believe there’s a spy working at Biotech, right?”
“Of course. Hard to ignore after the rare snakelike Muta attacked you at Zelaide’s house.”
“Oh, you mean the Chude? Have you learned anything further?”
“Still haven’t received word on it,” Erica admitted.
“Who do you have looking into it?”
“I can’t tell you yet. They’re a bit of a fruitcake, but incredibly skilled. I know they will do their part once they are confident who the traitor is.”
“Hmm.” Euphemia was quite surprised. She didn’t know Erica trusted someone that much at Biotechnology.
I wonder who it is. Probably not any of my coworkers. Maybe Director Burhardt? He seems likely. Erica and the Director are kind of similar types… Or is it someone higher up? I hope it’s Director Burhardt…
“On that note, I will talk to that person about your rodents and see what can be done. Better for me to take action than let you run wild.”
“Thank you, Erica!”
“Keep them contained. I won’t stand for any documents or cables being chewed.” Erica shivered at the thought of a bunch of rodents running around her office.
“I promise to keep them under control. Give me a big room that can be sealed off.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Behave in your room for today and tomorrow. You mustn’t set foot outside my residence,” Erica warned her sister who had regained her usual vigor.
“At least let me help your secretary—”
“No need. You will only increase my workload. All right, we are done talking for today. I have work to do.” Erica’s long, manicured finger pressed a button on top of her desk. The head of her secretarial staff immediately entered the office. “Hello, Naomi. Show my sister to her room. Also, I hate to burden you, but can you keep an eye on her today?”
†††
ERICA received a report two days later from her police insider while she was reviewing the initial data he’d sent her beforehand.
A grin tugged at her lips when she saw the name attached to the short message accompanying the report. She promptly took action as she wasn’t one to let opportunity get away from her.
First, she returned her gaze to the report on the prostitute homicide case she had obtained through alternate means. Notes were scribbled in the margins. The case was definitely full of holes.
Looks like I can use the man named Wei. I’ll have Mia get in touch with him. She probably won’t stay cooped up for much longer. But will she be able to persuade him with crocodile tears? Well, they might not be so fake where Zelaide is concerned.
“She’s worried enough I’m sure she can pull it off,” Erica muttered.
This will open up a route of communication with Zelaide inside the station. Their evidence for the homicide looks solid at first, but if we can unravel it…it might become the little leak that sinks the puppeteer’s behemoth of a ship that keeps crime afloat in my city.
Erica narrowed her eyes. She was ready.
The laboratory comes next. I don’t want to deal with him, but the situation calls for it.
Erica pulled out the mayor’s exclusive IHT. She pressed the dial button and the other side picked up right away. They were comically quick to answer.
“Hi! It’s meeee! You rang?” a high-pitched, quirky voice responded. His choice of words was just as wacky and unprofessional.
Erica decided in advance to ignore his playful banter. Putting up with his quirks was the only way to interact with this person. “It’s me. I know you are busy, but I need you here as soon as possible.”
“Whaaa? You jest. You surely know just how unbusy I am, Queenie. I have so much spare time my lackeys won’t even talk to me anymore.”
“You are the one joking around. Just how many people have you deceived with that quirky act of yours? Let’s leave it at that. Will you come? Or not?”
“Of course I’ll come. If it is Queen Erica’s request, I shall hasten to your side at once. My goddess.”
“Call me mayor. There is something I need you to bring with you. My sister is being a pest. I want you to bring everything she left in her laboratory. Charge it as a personal expense.”
“What? Everything in her lab? Not just the data? Whoa. By personal expense, you mean at your expense, right? Right?”
“Of course. I don’t know what’s in her lab, but Mia made a list. I’m sending it to you now, so make the appropriate arrangements. Make sure you are disguised when you do it.”
“Oh dear! I was informed about your younger sister’s research. Has something to do with Nightz, right? You will end up with a lot on your hands if you take her whole lab. A whole lot of…uh…rodents…that is.”
“So it seems. I dislike rodents, so it gives me the chills thinking of living with them. But she said she wants at least half of the population from her lab. I don’t really understand what she is doing, but she claims the more generations there are the greater the chance of limiting what they eat, so she has to keep breeding them. She feeds them Night Bloom seeds. That child is passionate about putting an end to Nightz with those rodents.”
“She sounds like a fine sister who burns with a sense of purpose. Her personality differing so much from her appearance and the first impression she gives is also quite nice…indeed.”
“You could say that. I likely would have had the same opinion as you if she wasn’t my own sister. But she is my one and only family. I need a good reason to keep her from leaving and to bring you here without it looking unnatural. I have a lot of work to attend to here, you see.”
“I see… You seem to have your hands full.”
“I always have my hands full. At any rate, please take care of any preparations needed for transport and come here quick. Never forget that I always have high expectations of you.”
“Spare my blushes. Then in order to meet your expectations I’ll let loose for the first time in a while and ride in on a white horse to see you right now—”
“Please come the normal way! You hear me? Please do your absolute best to come by normal means. Do you know how much attention you will draw riding in with a cage of rodents? Please act normal! NORMAL!” Erica emphasized. It was rare for her to raise her voice. She was dealing with someone normal communication didn’t work on. Of course, the person she was talking to was fully aware that transporting the gerbils was simply the official excuse for his visit.
“Do you understand?” she asked for good measure.
“Your very wish is my command, my goddess.”
“Call me mayor! Otherwise, I’ll draw the delivery fee from your salary.”
The call ended in silence.
Erica folded her fingers under her chin and contemplated the situation.
The future was glum. But it had to be done. She prioritized Gothic City’s peace and the citizen’s safety over all else. The enemy was nearby. But without solid, irrefutable proof, they would slip through her fingers, and once they did, she’d never get another chance to catch them. She had to proceed carefully and with certainty.
“I expect much from you, President Murakami.”
Erica slowly rose from her chair.
†††
“BEAST BLOOD Zelaide Silvergray. Get out!” a gruff voice ordered. The shout echoed off the thick, unscratched walls, causing the man lying on the bed bolted to the wall to crack open his eyes.
Zelaide stood in silence. Being confined for more than a week didn’t impair his catlike movement.
The clothes and shoes they removed from him when he was detained were placed on a cart and pushed inside the cell. He stripped off the prisoner garments that had been forced on him in the detention center. Pulling on his leathers felt like putting his second skin back on. There was comfort in his familiar clothing. His weapons weren’t returned, however.
“Your weapons will be returned in the chief of police’s office,” the police officer explained in a dry voice, his face hidden beneath a cap. Zelaide’s silence seemed to have earned him an explanation at least.
†††
“SO you’re Zelaide, eh? Mm-hm, you’re a keeper. You got caught between a rock and a hard place this time around, huh? But your patience is admirable.”
Zelaide was escorted into the filthiest room at the back of the police station. In other words, it was the janitor’s closet near the rear entrance.
Zelaide suspected his release was top secret, but didn’t expect to meet with two men in a cramped closet. He recognized one face—the chief of police.
The other man looked strange. He wore gaudy clothes over his short and plump body, and his shaggy hair was thinning at the crown of his head, drawing attention to the roundness of his face. He topped his peculiar looks off with perfectly round, antiquated specs.
The man was round and curvy from top to bottom.
“Come along—”
“W-Wait, President Murakami! We still haven’t proven he isn’t the murderer yet. Seeking help from him is like playing with fire,” advised Gothic City’s Chief of Police with a gruff tone seeped in irritation. “This man is a purebred Beast Blood without any documentation. He’s a ferocious, unintelligent, dangerous creature. He’s about as useful as using fire to put out fire. His brain doesn’t work the same way as ours. Don’t treat him like he’s human.”
The chief could only be so frank because he held absolute confidence that Zelaide would never hurt him inside the police station. Case in point, Zelaide ignored him entirely and focused his full attention on the middle-aged man called Murakami. He recognized that name.
“Oh dear, are you racist? I’m not.”
“Some of my direct subordinates were slaughtered by a Beast Blood when I was working the field as an inspector. That monster had the same eyes as this one here,” the chief hissed in a voice laced with vitriol.
“My, you had a painful experience there. That’s a shame. But you know, I actually love all primates from bonobo to homo habilis. Oh, that includes all extinct species too, mind you. Naturally that also extends to humans and Beast Bloods. So I’m very intrigued by this young man with those supremely striking eyes.” Murakami casually brought up the sciences in a way a layman might be able to follow him. This was the president of the world’s leading research institute’s method of dealing with the grim-faced police chief. Then he turned to Zelaide. “Everyone envies those eyes of yours, don’t they?”
“…You’re Biotech’s president?” Zelaide asked moodily.
“Bingo! You know me? I’m Murakami. Akio Murakami. You’d make me the happiest researcher in the world if you remember me!” Murakami winked with his small, beady eyes. Unfortunately for him, both the Beast Blood and the police chief pretended not to see it.
“Why are ya here? What’s goin’ on?”
“Hoho? It’s not ‘What do ya want with me?’ but ‘What’s goin’ on?’ eh? See, chiefy, this young man’s intelligence far surpasses what you give him credit for. Don’t you agree?” Murakami asked Zelaide and cheerfully gave the peace sign only to be ignored again.
“Sorry, but can ya cut to the chase?”
“Ooh, my bad. Sorry for playing around at a time like this… I’ll tell you then, but it’s a bit of an embarrassment for us, so I’d rather not talk about it.”
Zelaide patiently waited for him to continue.
“To tell you the truth, three of the Bijours in our care slipped out of the breeding pens due to a work blunder.”
“Bijours got out?” Zelaide’s eyes widened.
Bijour—a beautiful and ferocious reptilian Muta. They should have been kept in Biotechnology’s Tier 1 Hazardous Organism Sector under their highest security.
Yet Murakami calmly spoke of an security breach that shouldn’t have been possible at the world’s leading research facility.
“Did they escape outside? Or inside?”
“The silver lining in all this is that they’re still in the building. We managed to seal off that sector. Feeding and cleaning is automated, so we fortunately only lost several drones and don’t have any human casualties on our hands. However, those agile, intelligent Bijours escaped through the feeding crane when it opened, smashed through the air vent, traveled through the piping, and are hiding somewhere deep within the walls. This is a Level D Emergency.”
Yeah right. There’s more to this.
Murakami casually returned Zelaide’s look of intense disbelief.
“It’s a separate sector where we keep the most dangerous Mutas. Of all the facilities that research Bijours, ours has been around the longest and was the safest until this happened. Drones are currently searching the vents and pipes, but even if we know where they are hiding, catching them is another story. They are known for mauling anything that moves. So much money has been lost in destroyed equipment.”
“What ’bout the sensors?”
“The normal heat sensors don’t work well on coldblooded Muta. Plus, they’re extremely slender. We have motion sensors, but Bijours move so quick, it has a hard time tracking them. We can’t send the hunting dogs in against such bloodthirsty creatures, and Guardians would demand an artillery strike on the facility rather than put people in danger. So that’s why…” Murakami purposely paused there.
“You need me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Doesn’t it sound a little too convenient? I’m a murder suspect. You guys didn’t listen to me for days no matter how much I insisted I didn’t do it,” Zelaide said to the police chief. The police chief shamelessly turned his nose up.
“Come now, hear me out without getting angry,” Murakami said persuasively. “Letting the Bijours escape is on me. I don’t look the part, but I’m actually an authority figure in this city. I don’t stand out much, but I’m a big player. That’s why I want to quietly and peacefully solve this issue before it gets out…or it could end bad. So I looked into Gothic City’s Muta Hunters for the best beasty for the job.”
“……” Zelaide cocked an eyebrow at him.
“And what do you think the results were? I checked every databank, talked directly to people in the know, and everything led me back to the same person. You.” After a slight pause, Murakami hardened his tensionless round face. “So I’m asking you to recapture the Bijours.”
“For free?”
“No, no. I’ll compensate you, of course. I will back up your innocence and have a third party organization reevaluate the evidence presented against you at this station. You will be able to get out of here depending on the results.” Murakami deliberately lowered his voice.
“This is actually Erica’s doing. According to our own investigation, a normal suspect in your situation would have been released due to insufficient evidence, but under the current special circumstances, you won’t be released unless something major happens. It’s not like they can keep you under house arrest, and everyone knows no cop can keep tabs on you. So taking down the Bijours is your little offering to the big guys upstairs. You understand, right? You have to do this job right. Otherwise I really will be fired.”
“Can I kill ’em?”
“Such a waste of resources, but I will allow it. I can just send you out into the Wilds to catch more. Just don’t blow up the building and we’re good.” Murakami grinned.
“You have a lot of demands.”
“Sorry. But you’ll still do it. You have to, right? Just so you know, Bijours are immune to pain despite how agile they are and tranquilizers don’t work on them. Oh and they become even more ferocious when they are hungry.”
“This offering might cost me my life…”
With all that said and done, Zelaide finally set foot outside his interrogation cell for the first time in a week.
The winds were already showing signs of the coming autumn.
†††
“THIS the place?”
Biotechnology’s Tier 1 Hazardous Organism Sector was located far from the pavilion where Euphemia and her team worked. This large cylindrical building isolated from the rest of the research grounds was one of the sectors that contained large and carnivorous Muta.
Three Bijours had escaped containment. A malfunction caused the automated crane not to close its shutter after depositing food in the containment area. The Bijours escaped through that partial gap in the security system.
The surveillance room immediately detected the malfunction and sounded the alarm. Employees evacuated the building, every block was sealed, and the sensors and drones were turned on to locate the loose Mutas. But despite narrowing the search field, they had no success capturing the dangerous creatures.
While the drones were equipped to take down Mutas, they were typically chomped on or swiped out of the air the second they moved. Making drones almost useless within the confines of a building against the quick Bijours.
Bijours were also said to have exceptionally high-intelligence and were wary of humans. They never stayed in one place for long. That was one of the reasons they were touted as a rare species.
“This should be enough space…”
Zelaide was currently in the cylindrical building’s lobby. He sensed nothing from the blindingly bright white space.
They’re here. They’re hiding in the walls. His Hunter instincts blared in warning.
“I’ve entered the lobby. Turn off the lights,” he instructed the control room through the small microphone attached under his coat.
“Done.”
The lights clicked off. Nocturnal Bijours didn’t enter bright spaces. They preferred to move in tight, cold places. They originated from a broad expanse of dense woodland known as the Sea of Trees.
Zelaide thrust one arm into the bag he carried on his shoulder. A freshly killed goat was inside.
“Come an’ get it. Sorry it ain’t alive like ya like ’em, but it’s plenty hot. It’s dinner time, boys.”
Around a day had passed since they had escaped.
Bijours were ravenous eaters. They couldn’t resist the sweet scent of a fresh kill. Zelaide sunk his claws into the goat’s neck and ripped it open. Blood gushed out. He brought his face to the opening, sank his teeth into the fleshy neck, and tore off a chunk as he shook his neck to the side like a dog.
“Heh heh heh… Look, I’m a beast just like you. Come an’ join me for a meal.” Zelaide let out a ghostly laugh after swallowing the warm chunk of meat.
I don’t cling to life. If I wanted to live peacefully, I woulda never become a Hunter.
As it was, many Beast Bloods born from human parents jumped through various hoops to finally receive permission to live among humanity despite the discrimination.
But among their species were those who gave up on society or fled into the outside world because they couldn’t integrate into society. Though they were isolated from humanity, they created their own culture and unique society with fellow Beast Bloods, which often led to them finding mates and leaving behind offspring.
Zelaide’s parents fell into the latter category.
I don’t mind dyin’. I’m good as long as my enemy deals a quick and lethal blow. I live every day prepared to take as many enemies down with me and slit my own throat before they can miserably torture me to death. I’ve never thought my life had value.
But I can’t die now. I don’t want to die, Zelaide thought. Because I have Yumi. I’m responsible for destroyin’ her enemies and returnin’ her to her sister once I know she can live in peace.
“Responsible? Me?”
Zelaide found his usage of a word unfit for Beast Bloods funny.
It works. I don’t know a better word. I’ll leave it at responsible. I’ll free Euphemia. Then I’ll leave this city. That was Zelaide’s plan. Once he returned her where she originally belonged, men would immediately flock to her.
She doesn’t look it, but she’s a strong-willed, hardworking, good woman. There are thousands of better men for her than me out there. I know a man who measures up to Saionji’s standards will make her his. Isn’t that how it was always gonna be?
Zelaide squeezed the goat carcass’s neck. Blood splattered everywhere, painting an ominous pattern on the wall.
Aaah, she’s gonna belong to another man? Some man I don’t know is gonna lie with her and dirty her.
NO!
“Never! I won’t let ’em!”
Dark flames ignited in Zelaide’s body and heart. It quickly became a lump of scorching heat that ate away at him.
No, no, no, no, no, no. I won’t allow it.
A strange odor began to permeate the sanitary space. Part of the odor came from the lukewarm blood dripping from the carcass. The other was completely different—a sickeningly sweet fragrance that had nothing to do with flowers or fruit.
It was the sweet odor Bijours exuded.
“…You came, beasts.” Zelaide’s pupils contracted, awakening his instincts as a Beast Blood. “Aaaaaah!” He bent backward and roared to the ceiling. “I’ll kill ya!”
She’s my mate. My woman. My—
“Life!”
His wide-open eyes glowed.
Slender shadows jumped over his head.
Zelaide leapt backward and chucked the goat at the wall in front of him. It splattered against the white wall and slid down, leaving a trail of blood behind.
SPLAT!
A single pink shadow soundlessly landed in the middle of the lobby—the Bijour.
†††
THE pungent smell of blood and sweet death hung heavily in the impregnable darkness. Fortunately for Zelaide, Beast Bloods possessed excellent night vision.
Large reptilian Muta covered in striking pink scales soundlessly landed in the middle of the spacious lobby. Bijours always paused for a second after making any large movements, almost as if they were an actress posing before an audience.
The Bijour curiously tilted its slender neck toward Zelaide. He saw his own reflection in the Muta’s large, crimson eyes before it dropped its gaze to the bloodied goat.
Bijours were said to be one of the most intelligent Muta on the planet. It made its decision in a split second. Seemingly deciding it could eat the dead goat at any time, the Bijour faced Zelaide and opened its large mouth as if to claim dominance.
This species didn’t have any vocal cords to howl or growl with. However, they knew that showing off their razor-sharp fangs intimidated most prey. In a smooth motion, it crouched and sprung at Zelaide. Its muscular hind legs extended, launching it toward its prey at tremendous speed.
Zelaide jumped a good several feet backward to maintain a wider field of view.
Three Bijours had escaped containment. This was one of the three. These Muta excelled at hunting large game in packs. While one distracted the prey, another would take it down from behind. Against one, Zelaide had a sufficient chance of winning, but against three? The odds were not in his favor.
“Tch! Damn overgrown pink perfume lizards…”
I have to take out at least one first. Before the other two show up.
Zelaide dodged the Bijour’s lunge attack and raised his favorite gun. The barrel was short, but he wouldn’t miss at this distance—if he was fighting anything other than a Bijour.
The agile and gorgeous Muta was made of pure muscle and moved faster than a bullet in short bursts. And since they didn’t feel pain, there was no way to seal their movement unless he broke its legs or dealt a lethal blow.
The Bijour in front of Zelaide paused as if confused by this prey that easily dodged its attacks, but after a quick twitch of its jaws as if assessing the situation, it launched into the air again. It seemed confident since Zelaide had his back up against the wall. Its graceful long tail sliced through the air.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Zelaide rolled on the floor and fired three times at the smooth belly of the beast passing overhead. One shot missed and pierced the glass ceiling. The second shot hit its side and the third pierced its femur. But the Bijour landed effortlessly and twisted its long neck back to look at Zelaide. The third shot seemed to have severed a nerve in its femur as it struggled to turn its whole body around.
“No time for a stare off, pink lizard.”
Zelaide bent his knees in an offensive stance. The bullet only dented the tough ceiling glass without shattering it, but the vibrations were enough to lure the second Bijour into the upper lobby floor.
The injured one comes first.
Zelaide drew a large survival blade from his thigh holster and ran along the wall before the injured beast could initiate its next attack. He lunged at the Bijour’s head that had twisted around to look at him with emotionless eyes. This was Zelaide’s first preemptive strike during the fight.
He slid under the long neck stretched out to bite off his head and sliced through the tender fan-shaped trapezius muscles with his knife.
SPLATTER!
Blood sprayed from the severed artery. The beast from primeval times stayed upright for a few seconds before finally toppling over. But Zelaide didn’t have a moment to catch his breath. A second Bijour sprang into action while he was preoccupied with the first. It landed in a crouch in the exact place Zelaide stood before inflicting the deathblow to the first Bijour. It immediately rose to full height and slowly moved its crimson eyes over the room.
Things only got worse as the third Bijour jumped down from the rafters.
“Looks like the odds are against me tonight…”
The third Bijour silently landed a few feet away. Its jaw twitched with anticipation.
Blood streamed from Zelaide’s shoulder. He had avoided the sharp fangs, but not the knifelike claws that shot up underneath them. The gnarly claws had sliced through his thick leather jacket into the flesh below. He could still move his arm, but the wound was deep.
The second Bijour didn’t even look at its fallen packmate, its neck careening toward Zelaide instead. Mutas were incapable of emotion, but it almost looked like it was sneering at its wounded prey. It planned on ripping him to shreds and then slowly feasting on his body.
Sorry, but I ain’t on the menu. I can’t die. Not until I see her again.
Oddly enough, while Zelaide didn’t trust humans, he believed the deal Murakami cut him. The short, round-faced middle-aged man who jabbered about stupid things was unlike any human he’d ever met. When he looked at Zelaide, the eyes hidden behind his round specs glimmered with fascination, not discrimination.
So Zelaide believed he had to defeat the Bijours per Murakami’s orders. Because that was likely the stage Murakami prepared to save him.
Zelaide kept his eyes on the second Bijour and honed his senses to detect the third. Rather than stalking him, the third seemed intent on devouring the goat corpse he had tossed aside before the fight started. Was it that hungry? Or was it just leaving the troublesome prey to its packmate? Either way, it was lucky for Zelaide. Not even a Beast Blood was guaranteed to survive an attack from two Bijours at the same time. But he didn’t have much time. For the gluttonous Bijours, a goat was nothing more than an appetizer.
“Savin’ me for the main dish? In your dreams, pinky!”
One was dead, but the other two were unscathed. He needed to target one and seal its movement.
Zelaide crouched, muscles tensed before exploding into motion to give his jump more height. Flying through the air, he shot several times at the creature’s knees—but the Bijour dodged before the bullets even came close. This was one of the largest species of Bijour, and it was easily several heads taller than Zelaide. In other words, not only was it fast, but it had the physical strength to match.
Crap! I missed! No time for regrets!
He set up his next attack without missing a beat. Flipping over in the air, his feet made contact with the cracked glass ceiling and launched him forward. Even the quickest Bijours were defenseless when they jumped.
The Bijour hopped back. Zelaide shot the wire from the device attached to his wrist and hooked it to the beam behind him, then let it reel him in while leaving his hands free. The wire pulled him up rather than letting him get closer to the floor. He held out his gun and knife to take on the mouth full of fangs charging at him as he rose higher into the air.
The Bijour jumped to tear off his legs, which it was very capable of doing if it caught one of his feet. Zelaide yanked his arm down, dragging him up, and slammed his foot on top of the Muta’s head, avoiding its bite, and fired into the wide open red maw. Two bullets went down the monster’s throat.
However—
The Bijour just staggered a little, and as soon as it landed, it looked up at Zelaide hanging from the beam. How much firepower could these creatures withstand?
That wasn’t enough to do the trick either? Thick-skinned reptile… How in the world did they even capture these alive in the first place?
The bullets should’ve damaged its throat and internal organs. It may have slowly bled out in a protracted battle, but Zelaide couldn’t literally hang around all day waiting for it to weaken. Worst yet, when he looked down from the beam, he saw the third Bijour gulp down the last of the goat and turn its sights on the next prey—him.
I’m not high enough off the ground to be safe.
His height was working against him. If one of the Bijours jumped, they would tear him down from his knees. Releasing the wire from his wrist device and dropping down would only ensure he ended up in the two hungry Muta’s bellies. Showering them with bullets wasn’t an option either. Only one shot left. It didn’t help that he was losing even more blood from his shoulder. The battle would result in his defeat if it prolonged.
Stimulated by the warm blood dripping from above, the uninjured third Bijour exploded into a burst of movement.
Hanging from the beam, Zelaide looked like a piece of raw meat strung up in the butcher’s shop to the Muta. Fangs and claws of death reached for him. Zelaide swung like a pendulum and dropped forward as he released the wire at his wrist. His landing point: on top of the third Bijour’s back. Between the creature’s sudden speed and Zelaide’s unexpected movement, the Bijour was caught unprepared.
He landed on the slender Bijour’s muscular back. The creature’s legs buckled under the sudden weight. As it was losing balance, Zelaide wrapped his legs around its neck and squeezed with all his strength, crushing the reptile’s muscular neck between his thighs. Then, when he was about to be shaken off, he shot the last bullet into the back of its head. It wasn’t just a close-range shot, but he actually had the barrel pressed against its medulla oblongata. There was no way for him to miss.
Taking a bullet to the brain, the Bijour fell dead on the floor, spraying brain matter from the bullet hole. Zelaide threw his arm down at the last second and rolled away before he could be crushed. He saw his gun slide across a floor covered in a sea of blood and brain matter. His moment of triumph was shattered as an even greater threat to his life literally bore down on him.
Zelaide had rolled right under the belly of the second beast that had quickly moved in for the kill.
“Aggh!”
Sandwiched between the Bijour’s legs, it stared down at him with blood-red eyes. Blood dripped from its gaping maw, dirtying Zelaide’s face and hair—blood from the wounds inflicted by the bullet that went down its throat. Bloody saliva dripped in sticky globs.
Serrated fangs snapped at Zelaide’s throat.