Volume 3, Prologue A: Wolf in Hollow Clothing

Volume 3, Prologue A: Wolf in Hollow Clothing

An endless blue sky holds the world in a gentle embrace.

The scent of the ocean filters between the mounds of abandoned rubble, filling my nostrils.

It is a peaceful time.

It is a peaceful place.

At least, that’s what the sky is trying to convince me.

But when I look down, the tranquility of the sky crumbles and gives way to an infinitely drab daily life.

Drab buildings.

Drab streets.

Drab earth.

Drab air.

Drab noises.

Drab vibrations.

The drab temperature clings to my skin.

It’s clearly winter, but I’m boiling hot. This must be what they call a heat island. I only know the name of the term, not the definition, but it sounds just about right… actually, it’s a pretty literal term.

The refreshing ocean scent instantly turns into the acrid odor of filth.

I understand that this is just a matter of my own senses, but when I looked at the piles of trash lying before me, my mechanical judgement went out the window.

But maybe if I tried…

If I kill my emotions and coldly, deliberately and geometrically chase away the smell, maybe my nose will be able to immerse itself in the ocean scent again—even if my eyes fall on the heaps of garbage.

No. Wait. Now that I think about it, I don’t like the scent of the ocean, either. That was a close one. Doing something you don’t like without a good reason is definitely abnormal.

Ah, what a relief.

I… I’m still normal.

When I felt relief, I felt sleepy. I looked up at the sky again and decided to calm myself by basking in the pleasant breeze.

But that comfort was shattered by a desperate female voice.

“…That’s enough, Mr. Amagiri. Please… please let Misaki go.”

Who’s calling my name?

I forced my sleepy eyes from the blue sky and put them into focus, bringing the woman into view. A strange girl with short hair that covered her eyes, wearing a black leather suit jacket over a thin T-shirt.

Ah… Jun. That’s right. I remember. This is Jun Sahara.

The captain of the Eastern District’s Guard Team. A dangerous kitten who wields a chainsaw in each hand.

She looks young for her age, but she’s got a surprisingly sensual figure. But in her hands were weapons that clashed with that image. Fingering the triggers of her chainsaws, she glared at me.

Her bangs covered her face, but she could look very attractive if she made the effort. If only she’d have more confidence in her looks.

…Right. I can still get distracted by girls. I’m still okay; I’m still capable of thinking about other people.

I… I’m normal.

“Mr. Yakumo Amagiri… Please. Please, let Misaki go.”

Oh, it looks like she remembers my full name, too. It’s nice to see that a girl you barely know remembers your name.

And thanks to her words, I finally remembered that I was holding another girl in my arms.

I thought my arms were getting a little tired. No wonder. But this girl is on the lighter side. Maybe she’s a bit malnourished—then again, who on this island isn’t?

I became a little worried.

Is she going to be all right? I didn’t mean to, but I ended up dragging her around.

It feels like this must be the third time I’ve taken this girl hostage to escape.

Or is this the fourth time?

I looked at the unconscious girl in the dealer’s uniform and slowly thought.

I replayed my long memories from the moment I took her hostage for the first time.

…Right. This is the fourth time. I remember clearly.

What a relief. It looks like my memory is still working right.

Relieved for myself, I chose words to bring relief to the girl before my eyes.

“Hey… you can relax. I don’t think this is the first time we’ve had this conversation, but I don’t want to hurt this girl. I’m going to let her go in one piece once you Guard Team members are off my tail.”

“I can’t trust you, Mr. Amagiri.” She replied, much more tense than her expression hinted. She focused her every nerve at me. This isn’t good. If someone else was after her, they’d choose this moment… BANG! And it’d be over.

Without an inkling of how worried I was for her, Jun stared quietly and continued.

“After all… you’re the Killer Ghoul.”

The opening lasted a moment.

But a moment was just that. A moment. Before even a breeze could pass I replied calmly.

“I am the Killer Ghoul. I admit it.”

I admit to being a killer, but I have not gone crazy.

As long as I’m on this island, I’m normal.

…Because here, not even the moniker ‘killer’ makes me insane.

This is neither the mainland nor the island.

It is Japan, yet not.

It is neither land nor sea.

The longest bridge in the world, spanning Sado Island and Niigata.

The nameless artificial island that stands in the very middle of that bridge—

…Because I’m standing on that floating island.

I catch myself grinning and, with amusement, turn toward the kitten.

Whether she lives or dies all depends on me.

It must go the same for her.

So in order to decide whether to kill her or not,

I stepped forward with the girl still in my arms.

At the same time, the kitten started her weapons.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrm.

When the engines began, the smells of the ocean and the filth were instantly overpowered by the odor of gasoline. The moment the scent touched my nose, she danced to the rhythm of her engines. A dance to kill me… that sounds a little cheesy. I’m still okay; I’m not too drunk on myself to keep a clear sense of judgement.

I… I’m still… normal.

In the moment those thoughts crossed my mind, the girl concealed her steps beneath the roar of the engines and launched herself forward, closing the distance between us. It looks like she has no intention of holding a conversation.

I think I’ve gotten myself on her bad side.

Why? I only killed five people today.

-----