Omake Week 2017, Day 3: These omake, which I wrote back in July, are as I edit them suddenly seeming weirdly prophetic of the fact that my wife and I watched Monster Musume this month. That said, at least this encounter is less "monster girl" and more "legal puns."

~X X X~

When he'd stepped into the Grand Cathedral over the bodies of its crucifix-bearing guardians, Balyn had expected to find answers. This was the heart of the Cathedral Ward, the wellspring of the Healing Church, where they kept their holy medium, the fountainhead of their blood healing.

Just looking around Oedon Chapel, at its décor and at the white-faced church servants patrolling the streets outside had given the hunter a slight suspicion that the Healing Church was not exactly on the side of the angels (or at least if it was, said angels weren't things he wanted anywhere near him). The staircase leading up inside the Cathedral's door to its main floor had only deepened the impression, flanked as it was by statues of inhuman warriors with oblong heads like a warped webwork of stone with hints of eyes peeking out from within.

Balyn was certain then, when he stalked across the floor towards the lone woman mouthing sanguinary prayers before the altar, that at last he was going to learn some of what was really going on in Yharnam. A few good, long conversations would be just what was needed to put things into some kind of perspective.

Instead, he got a fresh example of how clerics became the most ferocious beasts.

She was actually kind of pretty: none of the open sores and rotting encrustations that marked some of the creatures he'd seen, no oozing poison seeping from her pores, but an elegantly pointed muzzle and sleek white fur. The owners of a fine elkhound would have been impressed (though the term "elkhound" generally didn't literally extend to having antlers).

One might even find aesthetic admiration for the efficiency with which her teeth sliced through Balyn's hunter's garb and the flesh and bone beneath, but he wasn't able to take it quite that far. Perhaps, he thought as he lost consciousness, he simply did not possess the artistic temperament.

~X X X~

"Is there any fire paper left in this place?" Balyn asked, rummaging through the large chest he'd been using to stow his extra gear.

"Pardon me, good hunter?"

He shoved aside a couple of Molotov cocktails and picked up a tricorn hat, but the only things beneath it were a handful of bullets, and…was that tomb mold, or just something growing where he'd spilled a blood vial?

"Maybe I should have taken the time to actually organize this stuff." He turned and looked up at the Doll. "Do you have any idea where the beast blood pellets are?"

"I believe that you stuffed them into the toes of your tomb prospector's boots?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks."

"May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

"I blundered into Vicar Amelia without being prepared to fight a giant beast, so I want to get ready before I go back."

"That is…surprisingly long-sighted of you, good hunter."

She really did sound surprised, too. Balyn decided to ignore that. A man needed to protect his pride.

"Well, this isn't just some ordinary beast, here. We're talking about the Vicar of the Healing Church herself. I have been chased around by those gray-suited thugs, stepped on by clanking giants, kidnapped by those creepy guys with the sacks, rescued a nun whom I'm pretty certain is going to murder somebody if I don't treat her gently, and don't even get me started about those old ladies in Hemwick that I'm pretty sure work for them, too. Amelia's assorted underlings, minions, and lackeys have been up to no good generally and chasing me specifically all over town with clubs, knives, and random pointy stuff."

He lifted his saw cleaver, noting the sharp teeth so effective in shredding beasts.

"So I'm going back to the Grand Cathedral, and I'm going to impose some…vicarious liability."

~X X X~

A/N: Failing to follow the general advice of "don't explain the joke," in law "vicarious liability" is the doctrine that you can hold an superior liable for the actions of their employees. I have a feeling it's actually the same word root as "vicar," given that it deals with the same concept (the substitution of an agent's authority for that of the person who appoints the agent; if you're that curious about the clerical rank of "Vicar," you probably should look it up).