†Chapter 9: Fight to the Death†
†Chapter 9: Fight to the Death†
THE man in the shadows watched Zelaide with one glowing eye.
“You…I know you,” Zelaide breathed, controlling the anger in his voice.
“That you do. I also know you…very well.”
“…You’re a Beast Blood?”
Burhardt—Shank—answered with a thin smile. “Only half.”
“Half?”
“That’s right.”
Mating between Beast Bloods and humans was possible. The likelihood of a child being born of their union was small, but not impossible. However, almost all the children turned out to be pure Beast Blood. Half-breeds didn’t exist. Extensive research had proved it.
“You can’t tell from this eye?” Shank pointed to his one glowing eye. “I am on par with the rest of you when it comes to physical strength, but as you can see, my appearance is entirely human aside from my right eye. That is what has allowed me to live among the humans my entire life—all while I cursed this wretched blood coursing through my veins.”
Shank was short and skinny even by average human male standards. His teeth weren’t sharp and pointed. Bathed in the afternoon light, he looked like a cordial gentleman. But he wasn’t one.
“You curse Beast Bloods despite being one?”
“My mother was human. But not my father’s mate. By giving birth to me, a child no different from a human, my mother was abandoned by my father. Rejected by human society as well, she took her own life. It happened more than fifty years ago though!”
Shank lunged at Zelaide before he finished speaking. He released several circular weapons with sharpened outer edges. One cut through Zelaide’s shoulder and came back around to Shank’s hand after making a sharp loop.
“GUAH!”
“Hahaha! That’s the spot the Bijour got you last time. Thank you for putting on such an entertaining show for me to watch through the security cameras. Granted, you were just following Murakami’s script.”
The thin, round blade ran with precision through the healing wound, reopening it. Blood dripped down Zelaide’s arm onto his fingertips.
“…Bastard!”
“I modified a surgical blade into a chakram,” Shank said as he spun the circular blade around his index finger. The cold light from his right eye reflected off the blade. “I’m a biologist and a doctor. I specialize in handling scalpels. The blade itself is on the smaller side, but it cuts through flesh better than a knife. Worked wonders on your shoulder, didn’t it?”
“Are you the one who killed Manuela?” Zelaide seethed.
“Of course I did. Haydn planned on framing you as the murderer and filming you getting tortured to death in prison, but that wasn’t very fun for me. So I let Murakami’s plan work without interference. Haydn went raging mad, but aren’t you glad you get to be killed by me here instead?”
Zelaide ground his teeth. Flying into a rage would put him at a disadvantage.
“In any case, your stupidity astounds me,” Shank continued. “I dropped so many hints that I was targeting you both. That foolish woman wouldn’t listen. I even went so far as to use a precious Chude embryo—and she still didn’t notice. I nearly died of boredom.”
“…Why were you targeting us?” Zelaide asked.
“I was contracted to do so, just like you.”
“Your client is this mansion’s owner?”
“Correct. The other reason is personal. I wanted to fight you to the death after driving you to the brink, just like this!”
With Shank’s signal, bullets rained down from every angle.
“…Tch!”
“I don’t want to fight alongside humans, but I’m at a physical disadvantage, so I’ll let them wear you down first. Not like they can kill you anyway. Go on. Run, beasty, run. Hahaha!” Shank belted out a deep, rumbling laugh.
Zelaide jumped back, but the bullets came in rapid succession. There were at least three shooters stationed on the catwalk circling the greenhouse for an aerial view of the plants. He escaped the bullets by rolling on the floor and launching himself off the wall.
Shank threw his weird weapon into the mix whenever he saw an opening. Zelaide could only run—he couldn’t find an opening to counterattack. But he didn’t sustain a single new injury.
Scowling, Shank caught the circular blade when it returned and spun it on his finger. “Hah… No wonder you take so much pride in your fast legs. But how long can you keep this up?”
Shank spun around and sent two chakrams flying after him.
Zelaide dodged the first and shot down the second. Bullets continued to pelt the floor around him, busting the tiles, walls, plants, and furniture. He tried to escape through the door leading out of the room, but a spray of bullets forced him back.
“Shit…I can’t get outta here.” Panic rushed in on him. “DAMN IT ALL!” Zelaide howled louder than the bullets.
And, as if summoned by his howl, the glass ceiling shattered.
“Uwah!”
“The hell?!”
Five men smashed through the ceiling and plunged into the greenhouse, along with falling shards of glass.
“Yo! I have such good timing! Go me!”
“Vulcan! You’re late!” Zelaide shouted.
“Don’t be stupid. I rushed here so fast I didn’t even stop to take a piss!” Vulcan hollered.
Luce, Leo, and two men Zelaide didn’t know dropped behind him.
“I’m Maiti. I’m here to help!”
“The name’s Ludo. I owed Vulcan a favor.”
Zelaide’s reinforcements smiled.
“Don’t they look dependable? We’ll handle things here, so scurry off to your mate! I’ll make it so you owe me big for this,” Vulcan smirked.
“Found loads of Nightz packed in a truck parked inside the mansion! And a warehouse with piles of dried Night Blooms in the garden!” Luce bounded into the air, snapping his long whip on the ground.
“Now go! Run for your mate!” Leo fired his twin pistols at the same time.
The Beast Bloods charged in the respective directions of their prey, brandishing their weapons of choice, dodging between the plants to take out anyone with a gun. An all-out melee ensued, kicking up gun smoke and debris from the shattered ceiling. Several dozen screams rose from within the chaos.
“Hold your horses there, buster.”
“…Move.”
It was none other than Vulcan who blocked Shank from chasing after Zelaide.
“I’ll play with you… Might not be as fun for ya though.”
“…Tch!” Showing signs of anger for the first time, Shank unleashed the chakram from his fingers.
“Go!” Vulcan glanced over at Zelaide and grinned. The other Beast Bloods each gave their own signs of approval as they clashed with the enemy.
Accepting his kin’s assistance, Zelaide bolted out of the oversized greenhouse and down the hallway heading deeper into the massive mansion.
Another shooter sniped at him from behind one of the many doors lining the walls. Zelaide opened a different door and used it as a shield. Once the shooting stopped, he charged the shooter, knocking him over with the door. Even the sturdiest wood door was nothing more than scrap when rammed with all the force of an ox.
As he proceeded, various defense systems and enemies got in his way, but Zelaide only thought of getting to Euphemia.
The mansion shed its classic, elegant looks for more constructive ones the further he advanced. A sensor in the walls triggered, activating a shield blocking the way forward. He plunged into it with his IHT. The moment the energy field came in contact with the device, a very expensive and illegal hack sent a pulse into the shield, short-circuiting it. That triggered a bulkhead to lower, which he slid under just in time before it sealed.
Then, at last, a round door came into view at the end of the never-ending hallway.
Every cell in his body sensed it—his mate was just past that door.
Just a little further. Yumi is right ahead!
†††
ZELAIDE hurtled through the double doors into another insanely large open space. The rooms before it didn’t even compare in size.
The Wilds spread out in every direction. Did he accidentally exit the building?
No, on second look, it wasn’t the Wilds. To be precise, it was a habitat that recreated the Wilds on a smaller scale indoors. While the greenhouse was a manicured garden with flowerbeds and walkways, this space let nature take its course untouched.
The ceiling was an all-sky dome, and although it was currently the middle of the night, a light-blue spring sky was shown instead of the stars. Rugged wastelands, grasslands, and deep green forestry resembling the Sea of Trees surrounded him.
Zelaide’s attention was drawn to several towering rock formations on the opposite side of the dome, the tallest of which nearly pierced the ceiling.
This space was elaborately crafted to mess with the senses, confusing visitors into not knowing what was real and what was being projected by advanced projectors and screens.
A gentle breeze caressed Zelaide’s sweaty cheeks.
“What in the seven Wilds is this place?!” Zelaide was rightly astounded by the huge space that preyed on the senses.
His eyes were drawn to the plethora of Night Blooms covering half the grasslands inside the dome.
Despite the flowering season having already ended and the fact they were being bathed in sunlight, the glowing petals didn’t lose their luminescence. All of these flowers bore the fruit that was the raw material of the terrifying narcotic Nightz.
RUSTLE. RUSTLE.
The air control system strengthened the wind current, swaying the field of flowers.
To an outsider, it would be an enchanting spectacle to behold. Zelaide marched on, unmoved, trampling the alluring flowers underfoot.
The winds quieted down and clouds crossed over an artificial sky that began to shift away from the light of day as it slowly darkened. A night cycle had been triggered. The Night Blooms emitted an even brighter light. Temperature and humidity were perfectly controlled by the automated environment control system. It even controlled weather patterns such as rain and snow.
Zelaide stood in the middle of the artificial beauty. Eyes closed, he felt the wind in his hair.
Closing off his visual perception helped him search for any life inside this dome where the very air was controlled by the enemy. Concentration fully honed, he sensed several living creatures.
She’s here! Zelaide’s skin tingled. His eyes flew open. Those silver pupils shined brighter than the Night Blooms. Every cell in his body reacted to his mate’s close proximity. She’s on the farthest rock mountain!
“Yumi! EUPHEMIA!” Zelaide yelled. “Yumi! I’m here!”
His voice echoed back from every direction. The dome’s diameter was impossible to estimate. How many enemies were left lying in wait was a mystery. Nobody responded to his voice.
Beast Bloods had impeccable vision. But he didn’t see a single soul near or around the mountain where he sensed Euphemia. That could only mean she was locked up somewhere out of sight within that mountain. There was nowhere else a person could hide.
Then, in the distance, Zelaide heard gunfire. He sprinted through the simulated Sea of Trees only to pass a Bijour charging through the branches with a human leg still in its mouth.
Zelaide quickly snapped out his wrist wire and swung up into the trees in hot pursuit of the Bijour that was charging another stumbling guard.
“Stay away!” the guard screamed, firing his gun before grabbing a grenade from his belt with shaky hands. In his panic, he pulled the pin out and threw the explosive at the charging Bijour.
BOOM!
The Bijour vanished in the explosion. Yet the tenacious reptile stumbled out of the dust cloud bleeding but still not dead. Its snapping jaw inched closer to the guard who stood too dumbfounded to shoot.
BANG! A single shot finished off the Bijour.
“Entertained? Definitely is somethin’ to see alright.”
“…!”
Fear filled the bleeding guard’s eyes when he shakily turned around. The Beast Blood was right behind him. He was a greenhorn barely out of training. It didn’t matter how good his gear was if he didn’t have the experience to use it.
“I’ll give ya a chance to live,” Zelaide whispered like the devil to the glassy-eyed young man. “Where is she…?”
“…I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die,” he repeated, fear stricken.
“I swear I’ll let ya live… You just have to pretend I killed ya and play dead up in the trees. All you gotta do is tell me where she is. Where are they in this dome?”
That deep, rumbling whisper sounded awfully kind to the terrified young man.
“T-Tallest rock mountain…c-control room’s inside…he’s in there with her—GHH!” The young man lost consciousness. He had taken a direct hit to the back of the neck from Zelaide’s hand chop.
“See, I didn’t lie. I knocked ya out instead of killin’ you.”
Zelaide gazed up at the majestic rock mountain visible between the trees. How tall was it really?
The sky behind it turned a deep shade of red, dyeing the rock surface red.
That was going to be the stage of the final battle.
†††
ZELAIDE took the time to recover during the short hike through the now quiet forest. In what felt like minutes, he stood before the tallest rock mountain.
The footing was bad, but still climbable. He would be defenseless while climbing. Getting sniped in the back would knock him right off. But he didn’t hesitate to do what needed to be done. His superior physical strength got him halfway up the mountainside in no time.
CRUNCH!
He stomped on the hidden cameras made to look like rocks.
Nobody has shot me down yet. Out of shooters already?
Midway up the mountain, Zelaide noticed a deep crack running through the rocky surface. It extended artificially in a straight line and seemed like something capable of opening and closing. Some sort of room was located within.
This is it.
From the looks of it, it couldn’t have been too spacious inside. As Zelaide contemplated how to infiltrate, the answer came from the other side. A part of the rock face extended out and began to protrude into the air as if it were a balcony.
Now what?
Zelaide cautiously watched from where he clung to the mountain side. The balcony jutted out of the bare rock wall thirty feet before stopping.
Two machine guns were equipped to the balcony railing. Probably there for Haydn to take part in whatever sick scenarios he wrote up from the safety of his high tower. They were small caliber guns, but taking a few hits would still kill a person or adventurous Muta. Knowing Haydn, he purposely chose low caliber machine guns that would lengthen the time he had to torture a person to death. There were even chairs set up on the balcony for him to sit back and enjoy watching the people suffering in agony below.
Zelaide slowly climbed around the rocks until he came down just over the balcony. From where he clung to the mountain, he had a perfect view of the balcony and the entire dome.
“Yumi! Euphemia!”
His voice bounced off the rocks and throughout the expansive interior landscape. By the time the echoing stopped, he sensed someone move within the mountain.
“Oh, you were up there? Come on down. Your precious lady is right here.”
Some of the rocks were actually speakers. He heard Haydn’s voice all around him.
Zelaide dropped onto the balcony. Just as he expected, there was a control room with dozens of monitors and machines installed in the back part of the balcony. In all likelihood, Haydn adjusted the dome environment and edited videos there. A luxurious sofa and loveseat set took up the center of the room. This was his viewing spot.
But Zelaide had eyes for only one thing.
“Yumi…”
He stared at the petite figure curled in a ball at the stout man’s feet. Euphemia—his beloved mate.
“Yumi!”
Zelaide froze midrun—the man had the sharp conical tip of his thin, long rapier pressed precisely against Euphemia’s neck. The man cracked a self-satisfied smile when he saw he had effectively sealed Zelaide’s movement.
“Will you quit calling the treasure I finally obtained by that classless nickname? I won’t ask you a second time. Your kind may be lacking brains, but you should at least be able to get that through your thick skull.”
“Get away from Yumi,” Zelaide roared like a ferocious beast. Even the big shot businessman cringed.
“……”
“Move.”
“……”
Haydn scrunched up his face, almost as if bracing himself to face a monster, and he purposely flexed his legs to show he wasn’t moving from that spot.
Infuriated from being made into a fool, Zelaide yelled, “Now! Or I’ll tear you apart!”
“…Trying to threaten me? I won’t falter. For I am Ziggurat Haydn, and I fight on the side of justice! I know you have come to kidnap this pitiful young lady. But I won’t let a cowardly Beast Blood’s violence go unchecked! Shoot me if you must! Shoot me! I will fight you to the bitter end to save her!”
Haydn sounded like he was reading off a badly written script.
“Come at me, Beast Blood! This old man will fight you!”
“Shut the hell up! What’re you goin’ on and on ’bout?”
Zelaide realized something was amiss with the sudden, uncharacteristic change in Haydn. There was something more hinging on this poorly orchestrated hero act. Zelaide shoved back his anger and fell silent, no longer taking the bait. Haydn continued shouting a stream of sappy one-liners on his own until he grew tired of it and faced Zelaide with an exaggerated wave of hands.
“Cut! How was that?” Haydn signaled his editor hiding somewhere and smirked. In an instant, the sham hero façade vanished and the twisted gentleman returned.
“…Give me Yumi. You’re finished,” Zelaide said, keeping his voice calmer than before.
“Finished? What gave you that idea?”
“You manufactured Nightz and spread ’em around the cities in order to dispose of Mayor Saionji. The evidence is blatant. Night Blooms are growing in this dome you own as well. And you kidnapped the mayor’s sister on top of all that. What other proof is needed to finish you?”
“Nightz? Oh, you mean the Night Blooms growing here? Aren’t they beautiful? By controlling the light, temperature, and moisture, I can make them stay in bloom all year long. Gazing upon flowers is another one of my hobbies. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying flowers. The seeds and narcotics outside were all seized from criminal organizations as evidence by my detectives. I should be highly praised for the successful recovery of a dangerous narcotic. As for this young lady, she is only here because she agreed to partake in one of my movies.”
Haydn fondly lowered his gaze. Euphemia’s eyelids were stark white and firmly closed. She didn’t have a jacket on, but she was clothed. Her hair had come undone from a bun and hung messily around her face. The specs she always wore were missing.
“That’s some shitty chop logic given the way things look,” Zelaide countered, then turned his full attention on his mate. “…Yumi! Wake up! It’s me! Zelaide!”
Euphemia’s shoulders twitched on the floor. An agonized sigh escaped her lips.
“Yumi! You bastard! You injected her with Nightz!” Zelaide gritted his teeth against the fragrance wafting from her body. “Perverted psycho!”
“Me? I wouldn’t know. She had a lot to drink. Perhaps it was the alcohol? Speaking of which, she flew into a drunken rage earlier. I had to teach her manners.” Haydn slapped Euphemia’s butt with the side of his rapier.
“The hell did you do?” Zelaide hissed through clenched teeth, aware cameras were still on him.
A lewd smile warped Haydn’s face. “It was wonderful… She suffered and experienced pleasure.”
The rapier’s tip ripped Euphemia’s cuff. Dark-red fingerprints left a deep mark on her wrist.
A roaring howl ripped from the depths of Zelaide’s throat. The rumbling roar echoed through the dome, shaking the very air. Haydn clapped in appreciation.
“Ooh… Is that a Beast Blood’s war cry? Perfect for television. I wonder how well the top quality microphones picked it up. Will speakers even be able to replay it the same way?”
“Move.”
“……”
The Beast Blood’s roar made the hair on the back of Haydn’s neck stand up. But he didn’t move. Nor did he remove his rapier from the unconscious woman.
Zelaide took one step forward. Then another. And then he lunged!
“ARGHHH!”
He was repelled by an invisible wall into the balcony railing. Burnt silver hairs scattered into the artificial wind. His forearm burned from contact with the invisible shield.
“Shame on you. Did you think I would provoke a savage like you without ample protection? Anti-beast defenses are always on.” Haydn snickered on the other side of the invisible wall.
“This is the best seat in the house to view the various events held in this dome. On occasion, there’s a brute like you who charges in without thinking or a stray bullet. A man has to protect himself. A word to the wise, don’t think you can get through the shield with your fighting spirit or that worthless little tool you’ve got. As you can see, the other shield you interacted with was a civilian model, this one is Guardian grade. Quite illegal for the common masses to own, but I, of course, am an exception. You will turn into a charred piece of meat if you try to force your way through this one. Not that I would mind seeing that happen too. But you know, the longer this goes, the more entertaining it gets.”
“Go to hell! Yumi, wake up!” Zelaide shouted as he rose to his feet clutching his burnt arm. Euphemia’s fingertips twitched.
“Yes, yes. This is turning out quite well indeed. Yes, I think it’s better to edit this separately.” Haydn seemed truly entertained as he looked up at the top monitors.
“Now then, let’s move this along. I have to return to Gothic City and submit a legislative bill to the next senate meeting. One proposing the unconditional internment of Beast Bloods. Not even Saionji will be able to oppose it once I show them this video. You destroyed several of my cameras, but I have plenty of footage and it’s all in the cloud. Footage showing Beast Bloods breaking into a patriotic senator’s home and slaughtering the guards who bravely tried to fend them off.”
In other words, his heroic act a few minutes ago was a role play for the cameras. He planned on editing the footage from the night into a campaign video.
“We didn’t kill your people because we wanted to. You forced this situation on us. We purposely missed their vitals when we could. And you’re more of a savage than we’ll ever be. You fed your own men to the Bijour.”
“None of that matters in the pursuit of perfection in film.” All expression suddenly vanished from Haydn’s round face. “Beast Bloods shouldn’t exist. I’m doing what is needed to erase them.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“This planet exists for humanity. Do you comprehend how much we have gone through to preserve our species? Ever since mankind moved to this world from the old world, the genes we carefully selected have reverted back to their former mixed state over the centuries. All that work they went through selecting the best of the best in order to create a wonderful world of only superior humans has gone to waste. Now those ideal genetics are gone and the people have even forgotten it existed!” Haydn languished, throwing his arms out.
“It didn’t take long for the humans who settled on this planet to breed with the indigenous people, defiling the ideal gene pool. And with each successive generation, humans fell into depravity, art was lost, and crime spread. Chromosome aberrations are only increasing with time. We are reverting to a state worse than what we left behind.”
Insanity colored the man’s eyes and crimson stained his ashen cheeks. Haydn glared at Zelaide as if he were possessed.
“It is unforgivable for filth to mix in with the genes that have been carefully selected. It will eventually cause humanity’s decline. Someone has to clean it up before it is too late. So I came up with a plan to stop it. By spreading drugs, I can narrow down who the weak humans are and eliminate them for good. The same goes for the money mongers who are blinded by wealth. Granting citizenship to Beast Bloods? Ludicrous. Beast Bloods just have to fight to the death with the Vermi and Inferni I created—what?” Startled, Haydn looked down at his feet.
Euphemia tightened her hand around his ankle.
“Yumi!” Zelaide instinctively stepped forward.
Her pain-glazed eyes focused on him and a faltering smile spread on her cracked lips. She then returned her gaze back to Haydn.
“You woke up? You have a remarkable force of will to push through all the drugs I injected you with. As expected of the woman who fascinates me.”
“Y-You are…wrong. There is no such thing as perfect…genes.”
Ugh. My brain and tongue feels numb…
Euphemia knew she’d been injected with drugs. But it didn’t cause her pleasure—only intense sleepiness. Even after waking up, the whole world spun and she felt sick to her stomach. It was worse than a hangover. With sheer force of will, she pushed herself up on trembling elbows. She couldn’t stand letting him capture more footage of her sprawled out on the floor like a drug addict.
“…We are all human beings, stupidity and cleverness included. No one has the right to choose what makes someone better than another. There’s no right end point for humanity to obtain,” Euphemia argued vehemently. The fog slowly lifted from her mind as she spoke.
“Mankind is full of possibilities. No matter the time or the planet, we live to our fullest, make mistakes, right our mistakes, and make mistakes again without learning our lesson. But we are an unbelievably tenacious and tough species. Otherwise humanity would have gone extinct ages ago… Those superior genes you speak of have long since died off. What you have left are the tougher humans who survived in the colonies without their cradle world to support them.”
“Heh. Now that is a novel theory. Try not to hurt that empty head of yours by speaking, Euphemia. Are you suggesting that superior genes are destined to go extinct?”
“…No. The best will remain in future generations. Just as was proven by the Mongolian gerbils. Give them a little time in the wild and they will interbreed with other gerbils, leaving behind a stronger generation. My research has taught me how strong living creatures—AGH!” Searing pain caused Euphemia to curl in on herself.
Haydn’s rapier tip pierced her soft calf. “You ignorant sow! Don’t you dare compare ideal human genetics with rodents!”
“YUMI!” Zelaide’s roar cracked the air. He crouched to lunge at Haydn.
“Don’t!” Euphemia yelled back, her cry not losing out to his.
Zelaide froze in place.
“I won’t forgive you if you come!” she shouted. “Look twice before you charge in! I was only pretending to be unconscious. I saw what just happened. Do you want to become a roast Beast Blood by charging in head first? No one wants to eat charred Beast Blood!”
“Yumi…”
Even Haydn did a double take before her clearheaded scolding. Euphemia looked at the rapier lodged in her calf and snorted.
“A bug bite hurts more than this flimsy thing! I’m actually grateful he stabbed me because it gave me a clear mind. He’s only cutting into my excess fat anyway. No biggie. Besides, I’m thick-skinned and drugs don’t work well on me! Nightz are no worse than a sedative! But hey, at least this finally made this lowlife’s gentlemanly mask fall off, revealing the scum beneath!”
“Hahaha! Excellent…truly excellent. You truly are a wonderful video subject. Your constantly changing expressions can’t be taught. Too bad your stupidity ruins the overall package…” Haydn dug the rapier in and turned it as he spoke.
Face twisting with pain, Euphemia swallowed her screams and squeezed her hands together as her whole body convulsed.
“GRAAAAAAAH!”
Witnessing his mate suffering, the Beast Blood fell to his knees, his head tilted back with a sorrowful roar, and scraped his claws over the floor, ripping up chunks of the balcony. Red lines ran through the gleaming eyes locked on his mate.
“Yumi! YUMI! You piece of shit! I’ll kill you!”
“Z-Zel! I-I’m…o-okay… I’m doing okay!” Shoulders rising and falling with her heavy panting, Euphemia smiled reassuringly at Zelaide. Sweat drenched her ashen face.
“Yumi… I’m comin’ to you even if it means turning to charcoal—”
“Zelaide Silvergray! I forbid you from coming!”
Ordered by his mate, the Beast Blood stopped mid-lunge. Her emerald eyes burned into him. It was only those eyes that restrained the Beast Blood.
“Yu—”
“I will be fine…” Euphemia pushed back the pain and smiled without shaking.
Dammit! Find a way! Frantically suppressing his anger before it made him run wild, Zelaide ran his eyes around the control room, looking for a hole in the defenses he could exploit. Haydn watched him, enthralled by his suffering and desperation.
“Go ahead and search to your heart’s content. We will leisurely await the police’s arrival from here. You will look like an intruder to anyone who comes.”
“I’ll testify against you!” Euphemia rasped.
“Your sweat and urine will test positive for Nightz. That will make your testimony void. Leave everything to me. I will take down your sister, but I won’t do anything bad to you.”
“…Go to hell.”
“Speaking of people bound for hell…” Haydn watched the Beast Blood searching for an entry point with amusement. “I suppose Shank and the others failed, seeing as this Beast Blood made it this far. I was hoping to get some entertaining footage of two Beast Bloods killing each other. Useless.”
“You called?”
†††
A Beast Blood with one glowing eye smoothly dropped onto the balcony railing.
The dome darkened.
False night with deeper blues than the real night sky had arrived. The Night Bloom petals blazed in the distance. Wind swayed the false Sea of Trees. Shank stood with the simulated Wilds against his back.
“It’s a mess back there. This wouldn’t have happened if the private soldiers you hired were a little more helpful. I at least dealt an equally fatal blow to the Beast Blood ranks,” Shank reported, expressionless as he looked at Haydn twirling his rapier in Euphemia’s calf.
“Bastard! You killed them?!” Zelaide growled.
“Can’t say for sure… If they’re lucky enough, they probably survived,” Shank replied, launching into the air without even bending his knees.
Zelaide promptly fired on him. Shank kicked off the railing and landed dead center of the balcony, unharmed. The strength of his kick propelled him at lightning speed. It was hard even for Zelaide to track his movement.
A flicker of light shot out of his afterimage. He had thrown one of his moon-shaped weapons—the chakram.
Zelaide dodged right and fired where he thought Shank would land next. His aim was off by an inch. Valuable bullets were decreasing with each missed shot.
“…So close.” Shank laughed as multiple chakrams spun on his fingers.
Vexed, Zelaide sunk his fangs into his lip.
He’s supposed to be weaker than me physically? Ha. Son of a Bijour bluffed.
Zelaide tightened his grip on the gun. Only two bullets left. Shank didn’t have a gun. But the holders on his thigh were packed with strange steel rods and more of those round blades he spun like discs. What other unseen weapons was he packing?
“You’re still young,” Shank said quietly. “Brute force isn’t enough to defeat me.”
“…We’ll see ’bout that!”
Zelaide launched himself off the marble floor, closing the distance in one long stride. His first shot missed; his second just barely grazed the tip of Shank’s boot. This was the first time he had ever missed at this distance.
“Out of bullets?” Shank smiled.
“…Not the end of the world.” Zelaide tossed his gun. It clanged loudly on the marble. Before the echo stopped, he lunged at Shank with his knife in the reverse hand grip.
CLANG!
Shank blocked with a nightstick. In his right hand, he held a double-edged knife with a blade thinner than Zelaide’s.
They clashed blades repeatedly. Zelaide had a bigger physique, giving him a size advantage. But Shank fought on par with him. Zelaide clenched his jaw whenever he lashed out with his knife, while Shank’s expression remained placid.
Steel crashed against steel.
“I hate you,” Shank said, his voice quiet and even.
“What a coincidence. I hate you too,” Zelaide responded with vitriol.
“You don’t understand why, do you?”
“I don’t give a damn!”
Another violent exchange of blows started. They constantly changed their footing, parted, drew near—the two men dizzyingly clashed and danced around the cramped balcony. The occasional sparks added color to the flashes of silver.
“Oh how the Wilds have cursed me! I must hurry, but I’m dying to watch this through!” Haydn was glued to the battle between two Beast Bloods.
Cameras must have been installed all around the balcony, because several of the rear monitors displayed different angles of their fight. And yet that wasn’t enough for him. Haydn was keen on filming their battle with the small camcorder he had hidden in his pocket. He essentially had ringside seats to the ultimate match.
“You have to bear with it a while longer,” Haydn said to Euphemia. “I will have you properly patched up once the authorities arrive. Yes, that’s the face I want to see!”
“…Go to hell.”
Haydn filmed Euphemia pinned to the floor by his rapier. She struggled to stand despite it, only for him to kick her in the side, knocking her back down.
The air hissed through her clenched teeth.
“Oh no! Your Beast Blood pet is in danger. He’s being driven to the edge! Wow! He jumped onto the railing without looking behind him. Who knew they could do that. Does he have eyes on the back of his head? Is he an ape or an owl?”
Euphemia pretended to go limp on the ground and slowly inched away from Haydn on her stomach.
Unfortunately, Haydn was just as interested in her suffering as the fight. He dug his foot into her side, keeping her pressed against the cold marble floor. The one hand he had on the rapier lodged in her calf didn’t ease up either.
Bleeding out slowly from her calf, and still under the influence of drugs, Euphemia had no strength to force him away.
“GUH!”
Zelaide dropped on the ground to avoid Shank’s blade. He was right next to the shield. In that instant, their eyes met. It was hard for her to know how he took her expression, but Zelaide smiled with just his lips and sprung to his feet.
“Don’t worry,” he mouthed.
Euphemia suddenly wanted to cry.
He’s putting his life on the line to save me this very moment. Bound solely by a stupid contract. I won’t let him die! Euphemia scraped together what little strength she could muster and quietly waited for her chance.
One of the chakrams tore through Zelaide's arm. Wearing body armor put Shank at an advantage over Zelaide.
To make matters worse, Shank seemed to have ample experience fighting Beast Bloods. It was difficult to tell a Beast Blood’s age by their appearance, but Zelaide instinctively sensed that Shank had lived many more years than he had. Likely more than triple. He lived all this time hidden in human society, bringing death to both humans and Beast Bloods.
Zelaide, on the other hand, lived as a Muta Hunter and had significant experience battling the beasts for his age. But very little battle experience against Beast Bloods. The difference in experience was starting to show. Shank’s expression remained unchanged despite Zelaide getting a few good hits in.
“Dance!”
Spinning blades flew at Zelaide again. He was starting to understand their trajectory now. He ducked and swept up with his knife, knocking the chakrams out of the air. They plummeted off the balcony with a whoosh. Shank’s knife lashed out before he could breathe a sigh of relief.
Gimme a damn break!
Zelaide retreated to the balcony’s edge and breathed.
What’s that? From his current position, he spotted something shining on the wall. It appeared to be a lever that had been cleverly disguised to look like the rocks.
Does it go to the shields?
Shank unleashed his next attack before he could stop to think. Zelaide blocked his strikes, pretending he hadn’t noticed the lever, and slowly retreated in that direction.
Just a little further. Just a little further.
Knowing Haydn’s sickening hobbies, he probably built the shield to be controlled from inside and outside the control room, in case he wanted to trap someone in with the monitors.
Zelaide advanced a step. A trail of his blood stained the white marble floor. He took another step forward.
Shank swiveled in front of him, blocking his path. He had noticed Zelaide was controlling the direction of their fight. The lips on his deadpan face twisted. He was smiling. The lever was visible over his shoulder. One leap and he’d reach it.
Well, taking one direct hit shouldn’t kill me.
Shank swung his knife up.
Zelaide lured him in close, dodged at the last second, and leapt. He didn’t even think about attacking Shank.
Jumping with both feet paid off—Zelaide’s hands latched onto the rock wall. He stomped on the u-shaped lever. The heaviness in the air instantly lifted. The invisible barrier at the entrance of the viewing room disappeared. Nothing was left to stop him. Now he could go to Euphemia’s side.
“AGH!”
Severe pain pierced him.
A knife had pierced through Zelaide’s thick leather boot and sank through the top of his right foot. Pain numbed his whole body. He couldn’t withstand the sudden kick to his left leg and tumbled onto the ground. His knife flung out of his hand. He didn’t have time to retrieve it. The next attack was coming. Zelaide dodged it by rolling into the control room.
“How?!”
Haydn was struck dumb by the black leather ball that suddenly rolled into his space.
As he rolled inside, Zelaide ran his eyes over the wall in front of him. Sure enough, there was a big lever just behind the wall. It was pulled down, in the off position. The shield could be controlled by a lever installed on the inner and outer wall.
Silver flashed through the air. Zelaide rolled to his feet and dodged away from Shank’s knife. Blood squirt up around his stabbed foot. He slammed into the wall and leaned in with his weight, shoving the lever up. Instantly, an invisible and heavy hum filled the room once again.
“AGGGGGGHHH!”
Shank’s knife hand skidded across the floor. Removed by the sheer power behind the Guardian-grade shield, the severed arm slid until it hit Haydn’s boot, leaving a long trail of blood behind it.
“…Urk,” Haydn croaked like a toad.
Euphemia noticed Haydn’s hand loosening its grip on the rapier and his foot easing up on her side as he balked. In that moment, adrenaline kicked in, the pain disappeared, and she grabbed hold of the handle and yanked out the blade skewering her flesh. And then—
“…?”
Haydn saw a delicate, long piece of red metal sticking out of his side. It took three whole seconds for him to realize that it was his own rapier sticking out of his side.
Though she had succeeded in thrusting the rapier into him, she had unfortunately missed his vitals. Haydn spun around and kicked the woman gripping the rapier in the face. Euphemia’s shoulders slammed into the hard marble, ripping the breath from her lungs, and the searing pain returned. Stifling her cries, she scrambled to her knees.
“You sow! You dare turn on me?!” Haydn tossed aside his camcorder and pulled a pistol from his jacket. Sweat glimmered on his face, but the gun barrel was aimed precisely at Euphemia’s forehead. “Die, wench. Atone with your death.”
“DIE!”
Zelaide raced to Euphemia. There was no way for him to save her except to become her shield.
Zelaide cried out in a voiceless roar.
NO! Anything but that! She’s my life. She’s everything to me… My very soul!
Haydn squeezed the trigger.
“GAAAAH!”
BANG!
A black spike zoomed through the air at breakneck speed, passing Zelaide, and striking the gun barrel. The diverted bullet shot into the rock ceiling.
Zelaide threw himself on Haydn, knocking him to the ground. All of this happened in a blink of an eye.
Rocks showered them.
“…GUUERGH!”
Zelaide slammed his fist into Haydn’s face. Blood spurt from his nose like a water fountain. Haydn squealed like a Muta. Fear distorted his always smug face into something ugly.
“Bastard!” Zelaide straddled Haydn and shook him by his collar. “I should tear out your heart and feast on it…!”
The Beast Blood’s eyes gleamed despite the light. Madness flashed in them.
He brought his fist down on him over and over. Haydn quickly lost consciousness.
“Zel!”
A strangled cry instantly stopped his fists. Euphemia unsteadily rose.
“That’s enough. You’ve done enough. Any further and that thing will die without ever being fully punished. He will escape far too easily with a quick death… It’s okay now. I am right here… Calm down…please.”
“……”
The Beast Blood’s arms fell limply to his side. Those teal eyes vacantly stared up at Euphemia. And then, like a lost child who had found his mother after days of wandering, light filled his eyes once again.
“…Yumi…”
“Thank you for coming to get me… I was waiting for you.”
His mate reached out. Though she wobbled on her feet, she opened her arms to him.
“Say, would you mind coming to me? My leg hurts too much to walk. Oh, but you’re hurt too…”
Zelaide clambered to his feet. His legs were in worse shape than hers, but he stopped feeling the pain. Staring into her eyes, he dragged one leg behind him as he crossed the endless distance between them.
He wasn’t just crossing the physical distance between them, but the figurative gap that kept them apart. The gap consisting of barriers such as class difference, cultural difference, and the difference between the worlds they lived in—those things that seemed impossible to bridge and overcome.
Who the hell cares ’bout that?
Zelaide jumped the last several feet to her.
“Zel! Are you okay? Oh no, look at all that blood—whoa!”
Euphemia’s vision was suddenly obstructed by something big—Zelaide’s warm, broad chest. He dropped to his knees and was hugging her. Or rather, clinging to her.
“I’m alive…you’re alive…Yumi…” He nuzzled his face against the nape of her neck. “I’m sorry… You must’ve been scared… Sorry. I’m so sorry!”
Sorry for letting you get hurt. Sorry for not protecting you. Sorry for makin’ you the mate of a beast like me. Sorry for not givin’ up on ya. Sorry for bein’ unable to let ya go.
“…Forgive me.” Zelaide apologized profusely into her chest.
“Zel…? What are you apologizing for?”
“For being an idiot,” bitterly answered a voice behind them.
Zelaide sprung up and hid Euphemia behind his back. Shank was standing there scoffing at them. He had flipped the lever and dropped the shield. He had tied a cord he ripped out of the wall around what was left of his arm to stop the bleeding. Blood dripped from the tied off ends.
“……”
The Beast Blood males stared off. If stares could kill, theirs would have.
“Director Burhardt…”
It was the human girl who broke their silent battle. Shank’s gaze drifted to her. Boring woman…
This woman was only one of his subordinates at the temporary job he held as part of his current cover. She wasn’t particularly intelligent, and tried to get through life taking advantage of the privileges she was born with.
But that same woman didn’t lose her spirit even after being pinned to the floor by that sleazebag’s rapier. Her emerald eyes twinkled like the stars, making her just as beautiful and strong as any Beast Blood woman. Though she was more fragile than a flower petal, rather than be scared of the bloody arm that landed near her, she yanked the rapier from her leg and stabbed it into the back of the sleazebag during his moment of fear. How many women were capable of that? For that matter, how many men were?
And then there was the gun that was turned on her. Driven to insanity, the sleazebag tried to kill her. The young Beast Blood ran to shield her with his body.
Unforgiveable, Shank thought.
In that instant, even greater hatred for Zelaide exploded within him. That emotion threw a wrench into the man’s ability to tackle every battle with a calm mind. Shank was in greater shock that he’d lost his composure over Zelaide trying to protect his mate than the fact he had lost an arm.
He was finished after that.
He threw the spike without even thinking about it.
Almost as if…
Almost as if I was trying to save the woman from death.
And that very woman was embracing the object of his hatred.
What a farce.
Why is this woman—
“My—”
“Don’t look at her.”
Zelaide sensed it right away. Baring his fangs, he glared at Shank.
“She is my mate.”
“……”
“Don’t look.”
A ferocious growl rumbled deep in Zelaide’s throat. The blood-covered silver wolf rose to his full height and showed his prowess despite his wounds. In order to obtain his mate and keep her from another male.
The two Beast Blood males faced off, ready to kill for a mate.
And then the entire room shook from a brain-rattling impact.