Please Do Not Leave Me

by Student of Aristotle

An ambitious rewriting of MMBN 1-6 in the span of 8 arcs. A complete reinterpretation of the main story takes Rockman into deep dark places full of pain and suffering. Netto x Rockman

34. 34: Man Eater: Quickman III

[Chapter 8: Man Eater: Quickman III]

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The Situation

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Having finished the storytelling, Daisuke triumphantly lifted his head up and looked around. Somehow, the way he did it gave an impression of immense immaturity, like a toddler being proud of having used the toilet properly or a dog asking for a compliment for finishing its meal. So, what was he proud of? Of himself, of course, for managing to deliver a story that was like a children's fantasy in an acceptably serious tone. His mind relaxed—he expected the officer to come up with a plan any minute now, go out for a hunt, and terminate his nightmare once and for all. Rockman, however, saw in Daisuke a man of an overwhelmed mind, dangerously close to breaking, unpredictable, and dangerous.

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Daisuke then began to urge in an uncontainable excitement, saying in the manner of "So, officer, what do you think? Have I told you enough? Do you need any more?" and "What are you waiting for? What is stopping you from putting a bullet to that wretched thing?" and "Officer, officer! Something! Anything! Please-!" and so on. In a way, he was like the frenzied Odysseus listening to sirens' singing, tied to the mast of his penteconter. It was as if he had an immediate need to receive a definite answer to his miserable problem as well as a guarantee. Enzan, a good officer he was, did not succumb to the temptation of making empty promises. He acted as if the man did not exist and remained pensive, in stark contrast to the impatience of the man, only gesturing him to stay put. In time, Daisuke found Enzan unreachable and stopped his futile effort.

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Through the slight gaps between the curtains came the orange lights of the setting sun; the color, instead of heartwarming like the dancing flames of a hospitable hearth, only rendered the atmosphere viscous and threatening. It was as if the end of the world was near. Girls whispered to each other, which was strangely hazy and unsubstantial like the murmurings of spirits. Dekao nervously glanced back and forth between Enzan and Daisuke. Netto exchanged eye contact with Rockman. When the blue navi faintly smiled back, the boy returned likewise. Rockman could not see a speck of worry in him; it was as if the boy did not care much as long as they were together. Was it because Netto trusted Rockman? Well, that could be said, and many would be convinced…but it would not be true. Netto simply was incapable of experiencing anxiety as long as Rockman was with him as he did not care about the ending… Well, needless to say, the boy was assuming that they would suffer the same ending, which was a naïve assumption, but who can fault him?

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When the light turned from the unbearable orange to cold, purplish-grey, Blues interrupted.

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"Enzan-sama, sound contact, eight-o-clock, approaching, slow."

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Enzan perked up. The room fell silent.

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"Contact signature?" Enzan inquired. He meant if the sound signature of the contact was comparable to the creature's.

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"Contact identity unknown. Potentially Quickman; potentially an animal. Now designating the contact 'Sierra-1.'"

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"Keep tracking. Report in short intervals." Enzan commanded. He then bit his lower lip and muttered, probably to himself, "Let's see if this is the sudden end of us all…"

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"Sierra-1, eight-o-clock, approaching, slow. Distance, 100."

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Faint sound of cautious footsteps was now audible to all.

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"Sierra-1, eight-o-clock, approaching, slow. Distance, 50. Sounds…quadrupedal, Enzan-sama." Blues said in his ever so calm, matter-of-fact tone, but Rockman perceived some relief in his report.

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"We shall see, Blues…" Enzan stood up. "Netto, on me. Now let's see who our guest is, shall we? …Jokes aside, if something happens, you just follow whatever Rockman tells you to do. He will probably make you run and give you a direction. I hope that will be enough."

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Enzan led the way into the first bedroom (the empty bedroom) that they had checked, which was the room closest to the contact. They could hear the intermittent hoofed footsteps. A deer was it, after all? Rockman imagined a netnavi (Quickman, but Rockman did not know how exactly that navi looked) using a deer's legs, freshly torn, like stilts of mischievous French clowns; it was a horrible image.

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When the footsteps stopped in front of the window, Enzan swung open the curtains (aggressively, like a father trying to uncover the delinquent boy, who had been dating his daughter without permission, hiding in his daughter's bed), and quickly raised the gun, aligning the rear and front sight of his pistol with smooth proficiency. Lo! Something was indeed there! Enzan nearly pulled the trigger; his adrenaline-fueled reflex fortunately recognized the shape and arrested the motion in time. It was a doe, looking at them with that characteristic cervid expression of cluelessness and indecision mixed with paranoid innocence. Enzan lowered the gun; the deer quickly ran away.

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"…Shit." Enzan murmured. Quickman not taking the offensive initiative was a good news for them. However, a bad news: Enzan noticed how the window was obviously cracked at several points with long slashing marks that were unmistakably originating from the Quickman's wrist blades. "You see that, Blues? It seems like our guy is not telling the entire truth."

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Enzan pulled in the curtains. The room became dark again. There was hardly any light outside as the sun was already behind the mountains and the sky was turning into cold shades of violet very fast. Too fast. The officer pulled the boy to the corner, furthest from the door, and spoke quietly,

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"Netto, Rockman, we need to talk."

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To this request, Rockman obliged. He, too, was looking for an opportunity to question Enzan; the officer so far had been silent about his own adventures that certainly took place before their rendezvous, and the omission was concerning. Rockman positioned himself on the Netto's left shoulder.

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"…We have a problem here, don't we?" Enzan said as he pointed at the window. "I would like your second opinion, Rockman."

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"Hey, what about me? What do you need me for?" Netto commented.

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"I called you because you and Rockman are a set. I can't have one without the other…nor can I use one without consent from the other. You two are like- what? You know it's true. Too true, actually… Why are you looking at me like that?"

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Enzan waved hands, dismissing the judgmental squint Netto was giving him. Netto resigned. The boy crossed his arms and leaned to the wall on his right side, distancing himself from the discussion at hand, retreating into comfort and obscurity.

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"Before I make my assessments, I request additional information. What did you find while out there, alone?" Rockman inquired. Enzan answered, honestly as usual, but at a nervous pace,

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"Not much. I first wandered around, aimlessly, trying to figure out the place. Blues and I made a map out of that small patrol, which will come in handy now… Then we came across the office complex that Mr. Hayami so frightfully described. The overall observation was as he described, but I did not see the 'young man folded into a perfect cube,' though I did see the old man, all shriveled and withered like katsuobushi, lying on the floor in a twisted posture, face lifted away. Unfortunately, we know where that face went now. I apologize in advance, but when I saw that murder scene of supernatural circumstances, I became infinitely excited. I told myself 'A-ha! So this is what Yuichiro sent me for…' but then quickly realized that it was paradoxical for the doctor to send his son into such a hazardous position without any preparations. I admit now that I was wrong in assuming that you and your father had something to do with everything… Yes, I have overestimated his capacity. Nevertheless, I still believe that he knows more than we do, and that, as a corollary, you, Rockman, naturally know more about all these netnavi anomalies and 'god' than I do, for you must have had better access to…well, everything. I admit that I took quite a long time in my patrol; in retrospect, it's a near miracle that I did not encounter Quickman during that time. After investigating the murder scene, I came back to the campsite and met Netto…and you, of course.

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"Regardless, Rockman, do you see the problem? The scratch mark on the window, the missing young man… Mr. Hayami is not telling the whole story. I do not think he is the culprit of this mess; he is too frightened to be one. I believe he is hiding some facts in order to paint himself as forgivable and pitiful, feigning innocence so that people do not suspect him to be brewing a cruel and selfish plan while ostensibly waiting for me to take care of Quickman. If we assume this, then we necessarily conclude that his next plan must involve his own survival at our expense. Maybe he thinks Yaito will be a good hostage against us and a good bait for Quickman or something. I do not know—there are too many unpreventable crimes a wretched coward like him can commit. It pains me to acknowledge that the best we can do is to keep a close eye on him without having enough power to enforce the safety of the group.

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"I have a plan currently, and my resolve is only reinforced by what we've seen right now. I'll explain later—I do not wish to influence your analysis. So, what do you say, Rockman?"

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Rockman joined his hands on his back, pensively squinted, and looked slightly downward; it was his habit to look somewhere else when in ruminative concentration as if the information were floating in the vacuum around him. Rockman spoke in that posture without making eye contact. Quite fast, too.

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"Conclusion first: we play the long game and wait it out here. Feasibility: high. Everyone is currently physically fit to endure a week of starvation. Access to clean water is guaranteed through tap water. Hygiene is acceptable due to the presence of the toilet. Risk is manageable as long as we do not get our gun taken and successfully lock up Mr. Hayami in a room or, better yet, the wardrobe. Prospect is optimistic as someone is bound to come searching for us, either by the initiative of Doctor Yuichiro or the house of Ayanokouji. I doubt Yaito has permission to go dark for more than twenty-four hours. We can wait for them to clear the situation.

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"Additional considerations: from the logs of Iceman's case, we know that materialized navi feel dread and thirst, which is quenched by drinking blood. Iceman implied that the blood was the fuel to his anomalous manifestation. We can also infer from his logs that drinking blood had progressively diminishing returns. Presumably, the thirst continues until the target…the netnavi's owner…is consumed.

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"Quickman has no virtual space to rest in. If Mr. Hayami's account is to be believed, then Quickman drank a bear and two men at least, which is a copious amount and explains how he is still up and running. If he is short on fuel, then he should be more desperately assaulting us. It is possible that Quickman is supplementing his needs with other wild animals, but we can expect that to be unsustainable. Even if reinforcements come in late, Quickman should run out of juice and self-terminate before we encounter serious nutrition deficits. Therefore, all pieces of information point to the optimality of waiting it out."

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Having finished the analysis, Rockman opened his eyes and lifted his head.

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"So? What do you have to say, officer?" Rockman's eyes shined with confidence.

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"Well, that's that then, isn't it? Waiting out should be easy enough…" said Netto behind him, ease in his voice.

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"But, Netto, the windows!" Enzan blurted out, frustrated. "Do they not concern you, Rockman? They are structural weaknesses! This place is like a Swiss cheese, not a bunker!"

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Rockman replied immediately, for he had already considered that problem.

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"Based on the fracture pattern, they are reinforced glasses. At this point, I believe it is safer to bet on their integrity. However, should the window panes fail, at least we can control the direction of the Quickman's approach, which is far better than being in the open. Because, if we go outside, how is it any better? It is getting dark outside. People will not know how to handle themselves. We won't see him coming. We won't be able to protect others; Quickman will pick off people one by one, and we know that he will not let us go as long as Mr. Hayami is with us. Which means…means…well, if things come to worst, we can throw Hayami as a bait and march out. Quickman will probably leave us alone as he will be too busy ripping apart Mr. Hayami… Well, Enzan kun, that does not sound half bad. Why don't we throw the man to Quickman in case he breaks in and then run with others for the exit?"

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Rockman's suggestions astounded Enzan. The officer, knowing that the blue navi had a human origin, and only having heard about the kind nature of Saito Hikari from Netto, had expected a tamer plan based on the idealized worldview that young boys often have. However, what came out of the netnavi was…to discuss throwing away a man as the sacrifice so casually! To speak like a man already versed in the selfishness of the world! Enzan suddenly found himself doubting Rockman's identity as Saito Hikari. Could it be that the Hikaris were possessed by a mass delusion, wrapped in layers upon layers of self-fulfilling prophecies? Enzan then remembered the case of Iceman, the god of netnavis, the demonstrations by Yuichiro; the doubt was immediately extinguished. Nevertheless, Enzan could not help but feel uncanny; to make such recommendations so quickly—was Saito still fully human? Has he become…Rockman?

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"You bet in their integrity!" Enzan retorted, dismissing the divergent thoughts. "That's exactly the problem—you are betting! At a thing that you should never bet—someone else's work! And what if you bet wrong? Whether the windows are reinforced or not—what if Quickman decides to use his bear-crushing force? When he gets desperate, he is bound to try something, everything. Heck, I think I would've followed your advice had I not known that Quickman was running out of time. That's the underlying problem here: we are safe as long as Quickman has no reason to get desperate, but he has one. He is short on time, and he will be forced to make an assault. We do not have enough firepower. Holding out in this place cannot be the best answer…but I refuse to believe that we are checkmated. Blues, confirm, is the window reinforced?"

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"It appears so, Enzan sama." Blues confirmed, "The glasses are almost certainly reinforced, and Mr. Hayami is expendable as far as our survival is concerned. Of course, I understand that it is not what you want, Enzan sama. The theoretically best outcome is the termination of the threat and delivering Mr. Hayami to the legal system."

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"Indeed. Two things, however. One is that it is unclear that we…I…will be able to control Mr. Hayami sufficiently. My intimidation will erode over time, and as soon as he realizes that I won't shoot him before he commits an unpardonable offense, he will start disobeying. I guarantee you that it will happen in the matter of days, if not hours. Wosre, if Quickman breaks in and he is faced with the threat to his life, he will probably grab one of us as a hostage or a shield and try to get himself out of the pickle—I mean, out of this camp. Waiting things out is waiting for a trouble to happen; we must act before Mr. Hayami starts formulating some strange ideas. Two is that I refuse to fall so low as to contemplate abandoning our only witness just to save my own skin. We have an extraordinary problem emerging, and I won't be able to convince anyone in my organization unless I have an undeniable evidence. I have my duties, and I shall uphold them. This is unnegotiable."

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Enzan's tone was heroically solemn. It was truly a divine miracle that he ended up in an organization as wretched as Netpolice. Rockman felt a bit ashamed for having underestimated the officer's sense of righteousness.

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"When things are done, won't be the corpse of Quickman be an evidence enough?" Netto remarked.

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"Quickman is a netnavi, is he not? He is not even supposed to have a physical form. Then what will happen to his body after we kill him? Disintegrate? Remain? Change? I must assume the worst and that his body will evaporate. Therefore, I need Mr. Hayami as the evidence, a witness, a suspect, or something equivalent. I can't lose him. Blues, plot the map to the exit. I will go out and try to establish contact with the HQ before it is too late." Enzan firmly ordered, marking the beginning of his reckless plan. "Plus, if we go out now, we might move unnoticed in the cover of the dark."

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"We?" Netto pointed at himself, one eyebrow raised. "You are including me?"

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"Netto, I hope you can help me. You are quite fast on your feet, and should anything happen, you can run forward and reach our goal. Our victory condition is sending out an SOS, not killing Quickman. You can do that. I'll cover you."

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"Nope, not doing it." Rockman quickly interrupted.

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"Rockman!" Enzan exhaled, incredulous. "How can you say that in this situation? Don't you see? I know you understand; you are simply being irrational because your bro- operator is involved! You know very well that I need him!"

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"Nope. As his netnavi and his…well, it's a suicide mission. I refuse to consent."

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"Rockman!"

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"No is a no, Enzan kun."

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"Even if you two remain, how is it safe for Netto? What can you do when I am gone and Quickman storms this place? Rockman! Think!"

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Rockman did not budge; the blue netnavi was adamant and displeased.

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Seeing that he had no hopes of convincing the blue navi, Enzan pleaded elsewhere.

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"Netto! Surely you understand…you must understand, yes?"

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Enzan's decision was perhaps right, for the boy was with an uncertain expression, floating between the disapproval of Enzan's plan and the wish to help his friend in a noble cause. Rockman was alarmed; out there, he was helpless; out there, he was powerless. Should Quickman get his hands on Netto-

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"Netto kun, don't answer." Rockman's tone was becoming ferocious.

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Enzan looked back at Rockman equally ferociously. The officer then continued,

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"Netto, please. I just need you to be brave. You are brave. You have already done it once leading others to here; you can do it again. Just once more. Please. I swear that Quickman will not reach you before I am dead. I am already putting my life on the line, and you don't have to feel bad about it. I am simply doing my duty, and it is not your duty. I won't even ask you to come around and help me in the inevitable encounter. No, in fact, I ask you to do the opposite: send out the signal and come back here. Wait things out. Make the reinforcement come in before Quickman becomes desperate… Things come to worst, I would have prolonged Quickman's time with my blood and you will be safer-"

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"Enzan sama!" Blues protested, fearful.

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"It's okay Blues. I don't plan to die. He will have to work, and work really hard to get me… Oh, and Netto, should Quickman gets inside the cabin later, just do as Rockman suggested: toss Hayami to that monster and get the fuck out."

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Perhaps it was the way Enzan pleaded while looking straight into the boy's eyes. Perhaps it was the naivete of Netto who had not witnessed proper violence in his life. Perhaps it was the upright upbringing and innate understanding of virtues. Perhaps it was fate. Netto, for whatever reason, said,

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"Sure. I'm in."

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And when he said that, an indescribable satisfaction filled his soul, and by this, Netto understood that it was the right decision.

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"Netto kun!" Rockman jolted, apprehensive.

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"Rockman-" Netto calmly addressed. It was evident that the boy's heart was set. "-I am sorry, but-"

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"No!"

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"-I can't let him die like this." Netto said, resolute.

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Enzan appeared rather annoyed when he heard Netto. He did not have a plan to die nor did he consider his plan a suicide mission; nevertheless, seeing that the situation was to his advantage, he remained silent.

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"Netto kun, if, if, if something happens to you-"

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"Rockman, please. I have to do it. I know it's dangerous, but it is no less dangerous for him either."

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"You don't have to! I'm not allowing it!"

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"Rockman, please. I don't want to regret my entire life."

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"Netto kun-"

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"Saito niisan, please."

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The magic word. Rockman froze.

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"Saito niisan, please?"

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"…Netto kun…" And Rockman yielded. "…Only this time, Netto kun… Never again will I allow you to do something like this. Never ever again…"

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"Thank you Saito niisan."

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"I'm never going to forgive myself for this…" Rockman murmured, nearly crushed, his head leaning into his hand.

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"We just have to be focused. You will help me, right?" Netto said.

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"…You know it's worse than the last adventure that we had, right?"

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"Right."

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"And that I will be very angry at you after all this, right?"

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"Right."

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The way Netto so readily admitted—it reminded Rockman of a well-behaved puppy, so he chortled. He could not help it; even at moments like this, how did his operator managed to be so adorable?

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"…Haaa…Okay, I'll help you. I'll be with you through it all, to the end."

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"To the end." Netto repeated. He liked that.

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"Alright then. Enzan kun," Rockman said, collecting himself. Soon, his demeanor became much colder. "when we get out of that door, at least ask Yaito for cooperation. If you remember, on our way here, you two were bickering, and during that she said something about her security detail waiting nearby. We can surely use that."

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Enzan replied,

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"…That is… I admit that I have been forgetting about that. If they are nearby, then we have something to work with. It means that we have the initiative at the least, which is very good. Very well, let us join the others and ask her right now. If she is willing to cooperate, which she should, then I will cede and go with your plan, Rockman."

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When they emerged from the room, everyone knew that it had been a false alarm. Enzan briefly described their situation (reserving as much detail as possible, only admitting that a netnavi had gone crazy and materialized, and that it needed to be put down), disclosed his intention to go out and establish a contact with the police comms, and declared that Netto will help him in the endeavor. He also called on Yaito to notify her security detail for the additional manpower. Strangely, Yaito tried to dodge the matter in many ways, which was ignoble and uncharacteristic of her. At first, she became very angry at the idea, saying that it was not in her best interest to do so (which was indisputably erroneous). She then denied ever having mentioned her bodyguards. Later, she became quiet and irresponsive, resuming a façade of pride while having a singularly depressing expression of face. However, when Netto pressed, she tearfully confessed, in utter embarrassment, that she had lied. The bodyguards were not here. She came alone. They were alone.

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The safety of the day was no more and the outdoor scene was saturated in a dark-blue hue of the dying daylight; it was as if they were deep underwater, and it even seemed that should they go outside, they would drown in an instant. In about half an hour, the light would be gone and the valley would be in absolute darkness.

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Enzan and Netto stepped forth into the pale world.

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Nightfall

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"You sure about that?"

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As the door shut behind them, Enzan inquired, genuinely curious, but not out of concern for Netto's lack of defense. Ah, I am sorry readers; Netto had handed over the knife to Dekao prior to bravely stepping forth into the unknown.

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"Sure I am. Do you think it's going to be of any use against Quickman? Probably not, right? And my job is to glide as fast as I can on my shoes. I can work with shedding extra weight. Besides, Dekao needs that to keep Mr. Hayami in check." Said Netto.

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"Fair enough." Enzan agreed.

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The greyness of the outdoors was almost suffocating. The air was cool, washing away the adherent heat of a late summer day. Had the circumstances been different, it would've been refreshing stroll; a simple knowledge of the presence of Quickman somewhere in the darkness was enough to render the coolness of the evening into the coolness of a blade—threatening, unbearable, macabre.

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In fact, to Netto, every moment, every element was equally unbearable. The sound of their feet crushing dirt underneath—too conspicuous! The terrain—too open without concealments! The narrow beaten paths—too limited and perfect for an ambush along the entire length! The campsite—too big! The internet connection—too far away! When the wind rustled the trees, the dancing shadows of branches moved like black flames—too alive! Past the main campground where the ashes of the last campfire still remained, when they reached the last building of the camp, Netto sighed,

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"I'm starting to regret this…"

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Netto checked his PET. Rockman was looking at him with 'This is such a terrible idea. I told you so. We can always go back. Can we please?' expression

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"No turning back now." Responded Enzan. This was not true; they could still go back. He probably spoke in this terse way to discourage Netto from thinking too much, for from thoughts come changing of minds, and from changing of minds the modification to his plan.

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"Right." Netto agreed.

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Going forward a little bit more, they reached the entrance of the campsite. From thereon it was a snaking downhill of ten or fifteen minutes' walk until they reached the point of internet reception; with the absence of even the murky light, the distance easily elongated into twenty to twenty-five minutes' walk. Enzan stopped here. He looked up, observing the dusk sky through the strangely entangled outlines of leaves and branches. The air was getting filled with the characteristic nocturnal Sylvian odor—the damp and decaying leaves, stagnant water, resinous pines, and perhaps even a sulfuric whiff of a bloating corpse of an animal of which life no one remembers. He then turned to Netto, resolute,

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"It seems like there's no way we can make progress without using our flashlight" Noted Enzan.

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"Quickman will see us!" Gasped Netto in a hushed voice.

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"Yes, inevitably. It's one thing to suppose that he can look through the darkness with a sort of night-vision. It's another thing to broadcast our location with a flashing beacon, visible from more than a mile away…"

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"So we go slow and steady!"

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"No."

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"Why not?"

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"We make haste. It will get pitch black in a moment. So dark, in fact, you won't be able to see your hand right in front of your face. We can't find the path in that state, let alone keep the orientation. I can't protect us in that state. Better to have vision and move quickly"

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"You can't be serious!"

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"I am."

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"Everything will see us!"

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"I am aware."

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Enzan left no room for negotiations. However, Netto tried to-

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"But-"

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"He is right, Netto kun." Rockman chimed in.

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Netto looked at Rockman with a surprised face, feeling confused and betrayed.

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"Rockman! It was you who said it was best to wait things out! You were the one to take things slow and carefully!"

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"It's different now."

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"How so?!"

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"There are no walls here, Netto kun. We do not have an advantage. We also do not know if Quickman can see through the dark or not. We move or we-"

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Rockman abruptly stopped speaking. He could not bring himself to say the word 'die.' The most likely outcome…that must be avoided… Rockman reset his processing unit. Thinking about it was too disheartening while the die was already cast.

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"We what?" Netto asked, oblivious.

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"Well, what's important is that we are safest if we move quickly." Rockman said, dodging the question. "We have no time. Activating flashlight; let's go, Netto kun."

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"Right."

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Enzan, having the map, led the way at a brisk pace. Netto followed. In minutes, the darkness became complete and the visibility was reduced to null, exactly as Enzan warned. He could only see what was right in front of him in a nauseatingly narrow field of view that corresponded with the arc of the flashlight. Netto realized that in this condition even if Quickman happened to stand right next to him, he would not detect that.

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Netto curiously brought his hands in front of his face and briefly turned off the light. Volumetric blackness that he had never experienced in his life (him being raised in the city) covered his eyes. In that state, the light was completely absent. Nothing could be seen, even the hands that had to be there. He waved them and wiggled the fingers; doing so did not change the results.

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"Netto kun, not now." Rockman softly whispered. The blue navi turned the light back on.

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Netto liked the soft whisper which had the perfect ratio of concern to annoyance. It was a perfect remedy to the gut-wrenching tension that had been inside him. Ah, only if he could hear it once, no, twice, no, thrice more! Then he would be filled with unwavering satisfaction and, possibly, bright courage! He contemplated turning off the light just to hear that voice again, but decided not to.

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Moving through the pitch-black forest relying solely on the flashlight attached to the PET, Netto noted that the experience felt very unreal, like a hazy memory of an abstract nightmare. It seemed that he could wake up from all of this in a moment. It even seemed that everything that was happening around him was inconsequential. However, The sound of orthoptera (grasshoppers and crickets) as well as the escalating number of flying insects (mostly ephemera and lepidoptera of terrifying sizes) reminded Netto that the moment was indeed real.

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Certainly, they glowed like a pair of Christmas trees—so magnificently conspicuous. As much as they tried their best to proceed with caution and speed, the light greatly attracted all manners of winged insects and forced them to proceed at a reduced pace, keeping their heads down, protecting their faces with hands and arms. It was not good; in this state, even Enzan was unable to maintain his vigilance. They were completely dependent on their netnavis for awareness, especially Blues and his hearing capabilities. Netto occasionally endured highly unpleasant feeling of very light flaky things landing in his mouth—small flies or something similar—of which identity the boy was not sure. Some of them even moved… Not wanting to check or think about it, he quickly swallowed them and decided to forget. At one point, even Enzan almost stumbled onto the ground as a hand-sized green moth (luna moth, possibly Actias artemis) aggressively and repeatedly threw itself into the officer's face.

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Had it been only the small winged things, the progress would not have been as tormenting as it was However—oh the mosquitoes! Their tenacity! The females' determination to suck the succulent and delightful blood of furless mammals! A glint of optimism: the mosquitoes, those devilish automated micro syringes, had much trouble making proper contact with the skin as long as they kept moving. Notwithstanding, the journey felt like an eternity (seventeen minutes and twenty-two seconds) while being under constant attack… By virtue of the ever-flowing, ever-diligent time they eventually reached the warning sign that marked the limit of the telecommunication signals, for nothing lasts forever. Remarkably, by some luck unfathomable, they reached the objective without encountering Quickman.

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"…We did it!" Netto exclaimed, incredulous, waving insects away from his face. They kept coming in wave after wave, some incessantly following them from the campsite all the way down to here, singularly attracted to the lights they held, magnetically drawn to the thin skins and the nutrition underneath.

.

"Yes we di- fuck-!" Enzan violently swung his hand and swatted a moth into the ground. It pitifully fluttered there, which he vengefully (gleefully) crushed with his foot. It did nothing to meaningfully reduce the number of flying things around him, but it was a small victory nonetheless. "These godforsaken moths! Ach, Blues! Blues! Do we have reception yet? Can you send the signals?"

.

Blues briskly reported in as a hologram. The way he was rendered from feet to head, Netto thought it looked like the budding of a flower. A strange flower.

.

"Connection faint. Sending an emergency code. Attempting…failed. Retrying…failed. Retrying…packet loss 30%...failed. Retrying…failed. Retrying…"

.

"So, that's a 'no,' then? Blues? Ah, forget it."

.

Enzan then instructed, covering his mouth as to prevent anything from entering there,

.

"Blues, considering the outdated government channel protocols, it is nigh hopeless. Try…this." Enzan wrote something on the PET screen. "As much as I do not wish to be indebted to…well, you know…this might be a clearly better solution considering other potential outcomes… You still have their hotline access information, yes?"

.

"Will do, Enzan sama. Due to different encryption requirements in this case, I believe I can override some data handling parameters and increase our chances. Please give me a moment. Considering we will have to move out nearly a kilometer to gain functionally better signal, I strongly believe that this is worth a try… Retrying…"

.

"Well?"

.

"…failed. Retrying…"

.

"Well? Ah, do we have much hope here, Blues? We need to keep moving; at this rate, I will be spitting moths for the entire week, and I have no desire to supplement my nutrition with such an ecofriendly option."

.

"Five, no seven more tries, Enzan sama. Retrying…"

.

Contrary to the scalding sentiment, Enzan gave in to the request. Alas, Blues failed all of them… Realistically, it was the predictable outcome; even so, he did not give up. The navi kept trying. Rockman remarked to himself that Blues sounded like a broken radio and wondered if the logic circuit shorted somewhere.

.

"Don't bother. We will go out a bit further. Let's go, Netto." Enzan gestured.

.

However, just as he did so, Blues triumphantly returned,

.

"…Success. Signal sent."

.

A miracle! Finally, the time to go back, away from the horrid summer nature!

.

"Good!" Enzan remarked. "Did you tell them to bring in some firepower as well?"

.

"I could only manage a simple SOS signal, Enzan sama. However, given the stake at hand, I expect them to overreact. If we are lucky, we might even witness the mythical white coats-" Blues sounded rather proud, almost triumphant.

.

"Agreed! If we are lucky, yes, now-" And Enzan sounded atypically bright. It was a rare sight—a happy Enzan.

.

To Rockman, all of this sounded exceptionally suspicious, of course, for it was inferable that Enzan did not call for reinforcements from the police department. Given the officer's social position, calling in a SWAT team or an equivalent seemed to be a reasonable response. What (or who) could possibly be the white coats? What could be the implication of this for him and Netto? Enzan was treating them like grunts who had access to information only on a need-to-know basis, and Rockman found it to be an intolerably dishonest practice. Maybe, just maybe, what if Enzan's decision was destined to cause trouble to Netto? His Netto? Whom he should protect at all times?

.

"Wait, wait wait, stake at hand? With only an SOS signal- what stake? Overreact? White coats? What's going on? Enzan kun, did you not ask for police dispatch?" Rockman hastily inserted himself.

.

"Hush! Blues you speak too much!" Enzan briefly glared at Blues, which only fueled Rockman's suspicions. "Rockman, I cannot speak about it now, but you will figure it out later, naturally, as nothing remains secret forever... But remember I told you that I had no plan to die? This should be quicker and more decisive. What we have in our hands, the law is not equipped to handle properly. What we need right now is complete violence with utter disregard for laws. It is the only way that we won't be held accountable for the death of how-many-lives that happened here. It is the only way that we will be released without consequences. Don't you see? You have to agree, at least rationally, I know, or I trust you to be smart enough to understand. Anyways, no time to explain, and I refuse to stay here any longer. Got to keep moving, yes? That's it then. Let's head back. I cannot stand the bugs- to God, I swear, that if I must stay a night longer here, I'll burn the entire place down!"

.

"Whatever it is, I guess your plan can't be that bad. Rockman, can we go back now? Let's go back, please." Netto said while flailing his arms and twisting his body this and that way, trying to parry the insects that kept coming at him like their sole reason for existence was to charge at him with impunity.

.

The one benefit of their misery was that they were no longer dreadfully concerned with Quickman (although they should've been), as the immediate annoyance was so great that they forgot the magnitude of the invisible threat. The fact that they had achieved the tactical goal without trouble doubled their confidence.

.

For the most part, the way back was equally uneventful. Either by having already trodden the path (and therefore being familiar) or by the great need to reach safety, they covered the ground faster than before. The density of the winged things decreased substantially as they exited the woods and reached the opening near the camp entrance. Netto recognized the place; expectantly, he aimed his flashlight (PET) upward. About twenty meters ahead was the 'Welcome' sign.

.

They were almost there! Surely, it was over; surely, they would be home by the morning; surely, nothing could go wrong now; surely, there would be Rockman's naggings and the overdue homework and petulant Enzan and a netbattle with Dekao and-

.

"Contact! 3 O' clock! Approaching! Fast!" Blues suddenly shouted.

.

Its meaning was obvious: Quickman was here! For some reason, the monster had not ambushed them from the convenient positions along the trail flanked with lush foliage, but by the precise timing of the attack, it was abundantly clear that they had been stalked for a while. No wonder—it was impossible to hide their positions with flashlights that shined like two small suns in the absolute lightlessness. Their hearts sank. 'Welcome,' the sign said. They were so close- so close!

.

"Run! I'll cover you!" Enzan shouted as he took out the gun.

.

Netto nodded and ran past Enzan. He could hear Enzan trailing close, but it was soon drowned out by the ever-increasing crescendo of frenzied footsteps and heavy breathings of Quickman.

.

"Don't look back, Netto kun!" Urged Rockman.

.

A large thumping sound erupted behind Netto. What could it be- lo! Behold! Quickman jumped a great height and distance, over them, and landed in front of Netto like a comet that consumes all hope, creating a great cloud of dust that rose about two meters high. Path blocked, Netto and Enzan came to a breaking halt.

.

"Back, back, back!" Enzan hurridly said as he pulled back Netto by the shoulder. The officer stepped forward and placed himself between the monster and the boy.

.

As the dust settled, Quickman was seen kneeling. He lifted his head slightly; oh, the wretched skin-mask of the old man! On his body—the flayed hides of various animals hanging from him like the branches of a willow tree! He slowly rose. He assumed a posture quite difficult to describe exactly: slightly—ever so slightly—hunched forward such that he appeared vengeful and proud at the same time. Quickman then ripped off the mask he had been wearing; it crumbled with a crunching sound like an old paper, for it was dry and shrunk and hard and brittle. Quickman hurled it to the side, as if he was being liberated from something unbearably disgusting.

.

"Ah…" Quickman let out a sigh that was full of frustration and longing. "The shame…it is unbearable unless it is covered… Oh, my god, please make me one out of the hides of animals, so that I might hide, so that I might be covered… Oh, the mercilessly silent, hideous light…"

.

Enzan used the opportunity to aim his shot carefully at those red and glowing eyes, for eyes are ubiquitous weak spots among the living. Enzan slowly cocked the hammer of his pistol, doing his best to make the effort unnoticeable so as to not agitate Quickman.

.

Quickman studied Enzan, from top to bottom. If one could lick with sight, then Quickman did exactly that. Oh, what a viscid, scrutinizing gaze! Strangely, Quickman, even though he must have recognized the threat Enzan's pistol posed, did not care a bit; he instead muttered, like a desperate prayer,

.

"Rise, walk, kill, eat, until I become as a man. Rise, walk, kill, eat, until I become as a man. Rise, walk, kill, eat, until I become as a man. As a man. As a man. I did, I can't, the soul- oh, the soul-. Daisuke, I can't, I refuse, I shall not pollute myself with inferior- inferior-… Daisuke, make us whole, you will make us whole, yes? Make us whole…"

.

Enzan exhaled quietly and held his breath. His mind was focused; his hands were steady; his sight was aligned; his index finger pulled the trigger at very small increments, making sure that his aim was not undone by the uncontrolled squeezing of the muscles of the hand. Soon, Enzan sensed, based on his training sessions, that in about five increments the hammer would spring forth and strike the bullet. Five…four…three…two…

.

'one-' Enzan anticipated. He did not blink once during this time.

.

Quickman suddenly arched his back, looked up into the moonless, clouded sky, and roared a scream so terrible and full of gurgling that it sounded as if he was drowning in blood. Unfortunately, it was also at this moment that Enzan finished his pulling. The revolver flashed; the bullet struck Quickman under the chin, penetrating, and making a hole into the oral cavity. The beast's head jolted according to the momentum of the bullet. Quickman rolled his eyes and looked down at Enzan in a way that signaled nothing. It was impossible to read his expression. Amusement? Contempt? Simple recognition?

.

Quickman spat out something—the bullet—to his side. The bullet failed to make a full penetration into soft and important places! He sprung into action. He approached in a highly symmetrical and regulated zig-zag pattern at a speed that, combined with the overall darkness, made him almost invisible while in motion. He only stopped briefly—perhaps for 100 milliseconds or so—at each pivot point, which created an afterimage. To be precise, the afterimage was not out of speed alone, but because of the human eyes, which, in the absence of light, tend to cling to the image that it had perceived earlier, for human rhodopsins (color sensing proteins of the retina of eyes) are slow and inefficient.

.

Enzan could fire only three more rounds before Quickman reached him. Distracted greatly by the afterimages, he hit none of them.

.

"NETTO! RUUUU-" Enzan shouted on top of his lungs after the fourth shot. He sensed a checkmate. There was nothing more he could do, but to be subjected to the cruel strength of the carnivore, like a rabbit in a wolf's mouth, like a mouse in a snake's embrace. His valiant cry was soon subdued as Quickman struck the gun out of his hand and lifted him up by the neck, "-UCK!"

.

Enzan hung in the air, held by the throat. The shock from a sudden powerful grip combined with the restriction of the airway rendered Enzan powerless. As a result, he swerved according to the way Quickman handled him, limp, as if life was instantly drained from him. Netto witnessed it in horror.

.

"Netto kun! Move!" Rockman shouted

.

But Netto did not move. Was it out of fear? Reluctance to leave his friend behind? Simply his mind being blank, overwhelmed?

.

"Netto kun!" Rockman shouted again, desperate.

.

Still, Netto did not move.

.

"Oh, what a soul…" Quickman quietly remarked, looking at Enzan, eye to eye, sounding very tired and astonished, "sizzling like a blue fire, shining, glowing, dancing, hot… But even this, too inferior. I must…I need…your blood, just a little more, let me, to borrow time, until I can think of a way, Daisuke, we must unite, I'll find a way, Daisuke, Daisuke… Your soul that is like a black and molten chewing gum on a hot asphalt road, that's exactly what I need, exactly what I deserve…"

.

Was it the end?

.

"I'll get you him." Netto said.

.

Then, it was as if the time stopped. Quickman froze. Enzan closed his eyes and silently struggled to breathe adequately. Netto remained still, studying Quickman, trying to see if he was gaining attention.

.

Quickman turned his head and head only. He was like a rigid marionette. Netto noticed how the beast's eyes were red.

.

"You heard it right." Netto said, his voice trembling slightly. "Daisuke Hayami, he's whom you need, right? I'll get him to you."

.

"…Speak." Quickman hissed, hoarse.

.

"Let him go first."

.

"I decide that. Speak."

.

"No. You let him go first."

.

"I think not."

.

Quickman tightened his grip. Enzan's breathing became significantly labored, creating high-pitched wheezes.

.

"Then you will never get him." Netto did not back down.

.

"Nonsense."

.

"You don't have time and you don't have an idea. Let him go."

.

"Insolence. Your fate is in my hands."

.

"What, you think we can run away?"

.

"Hmm…" Quickman squinted.

.

"You have nothing to lose."

.

"…"

.

"And everything to gain."

.

"…Annoyingly…accurate." Quickman admitted, extremely reluctantly. "Very well."

.

The grip loosened and Enzan fell onto the ground. The officer coughed and gasped for air."

.

"You could not get him because of his knife, and you don't know what to do with it." Netto accused, and it pierced Quickman. "But I can get him outside. You will know what to do after that, won't you?"

.

"Ne-ett-o…" Enzan, on the ground, lying like a damsel in distress, squeezed out his voice by Achillean willpower. "do- n't…"

.

"I'll do it." Said Netto, but not in reply to Enzan. The boy worrisomely measured Quickman's response. "Come on."

.

Quickman contemplated, slowly and erratically turning his this way or that way, like a doll possessed by a wicked spirit. After what seemed like an eternity, he answered,

.

"…I accept."

.

"Deal. Enzan, let's g-"

.

"And I need a guarantee." Quickman added. He pointed downwards, at Enzan, like a heartless Roman praetor condemning a slave, "This one stays. You go alone."

.

"That's not what I proposed. Let him go or we have no deal."

.

"Then I don't need it."

.

Quickman reached out to Enzan. There was certain glee oozing out of that effort; the thirst was consuming him, and he was in need of some good blood as much as an alcoholic requires a can of cold beer on a Friday evening.

.

"Wait-" Enzan said as he struggled. "Netto, I'll be fine. Take the deal. Get to safety. You know what to do."

.

"But-" Netto protested.

.

Or at least tried to. However, when Enzan pleaded

.

"Please."

.

Before those valiantly resolute eyes of a noble soul, Netto could not say no. Feeling like garbage, Netto ran to the cabin.

.

Despairing Daisuke

.

"…Do you mean it, Netto kun?"

.

As Netto was running, Rockman asked. He sounded morose.

.

"Yeah." Answered Netto.

.

"I can ask you again…but it's not going to change anything, won't it?" Rockman hung his head. Netto did not see it, but he could sense it. Rockman was quite consistent with his body language.

.

"I'm sorry, Rockman. I have to do it."

.

"…Okay. I guess you won't sleep tight if you abandon him like that."

.

"Thank you, Rockman."

.

Outside the cabin, in stark contrast to what he had been expecting, Netto heard growlings, shoutings, cryings, and many other sounds of distress. It also seemed that every working light was lit, and the shadows of people inside projected onto curtains, dancing like flames in the wind. They were supposed to wait, in darkness and silence, with anxiety and prayers. Instead, they were imploding.

.

'Daisuke Hayami!' Netto and Rockman both concluded. Who else could it be?

.

Greatly troubled, the boy burst in. As the door opened, the sound of pandemonium struck him like a shockwave from an artillery shell, and what he beheld was beyond his abilities.

.

Netto observed in this order: in the center, most prominent, was Daisuke, livid and greatly disturbed, and Mayl, held as the hostage. The man's arm was coiling around the neck of the girl like a boa constrictor climbing a shisham tree, and had the knife's blade touching the delicate and thin skin (oh so translucent and milk-colored flawless skin!) of the girl. The sofas and chairs had been pushed away; the old table was on its side, creating an obstacle between the man and everyone else. Dekao was rolling in a corner, right hand tightly held against his chest, which was red and wet. Between the man and the boy, Yaito was shouting many threats, helplessly, hoping that her social position and promise of retribution would subdue the man.

.

"-just you wait, you little piece of shit!" Yaito screamed, high-pitched and wrathful, and Netto had never heard such a sound coming out of that small body. "You make her bleed a drop and my men will shred you to pieces! I promise you!"

.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Just fucking shut up!" Daisuke shouted, trying to drown out Yaito's voice or intimidate her. However, his voice was surprisingly small and diffident; it was visible that the man believed what Yaito said and was instead being intimidated himself. No wonder, for Yaito always exuded the insurmountable confidence that could only come from someone who was certain of everything in life, who was above others, by several orders of magnitudes, in materials and power.

.

"Netto!" Dekao groaned, frowning in pain.

.

Everyone looked at the boy at the entrance. Even Mayl, who had been squeezing her eyes shut out of fear, opened them.

.

"I'm sorry, Netto! I couldn't- he got me!" Dekao confessed. From the way he spoke, Netto saw that the pain in his soul for failing his task was greater than the pain in his body.

.

Netto noticed how Mayl was looking at him in an expectant way. Her gaze constricted his heart with guilt.

.

"Netto! So the beast is slain!" Yaito remarked, jubilant. She then addressed Daisuke, triumphantly, "Give up! Before Enzan comes in and has to shoot you!"

.

Daisuke's eyes shook.

.

Dekao struggled to stand up. The blood on his hands made them very slippery, and he ended up smearing the floor several times in dark-red. Netto saw that the blood was coming from a cut in Dekao's right palm, and that the shirt was simply stained in red because of that. Netto had feared that the source of the blood was the chest; he was glad to see that the worst was not the case.

.

"Be careful, Netto! He's stronger than you think-" Dekao hurriedly warned.

.

Daisuke lowered the knife, shocked, but still holding on to Mayl. He did so as he was unwilling to admit that everything was over until he saw Enzan himself. Or, maybe, just maybe, he did so because the soft flesh of the blossoming young girl was too pleasant and enticing to hold on to. This kind of desire is often subconscious, therefore—who knows?

.

"The signal has been sent. Enzan said the white coats might come, whatever that means…" Netto reported, panting.

.

Yaito brightened significantly.

.

"A-ha! Excellent, Netto!" Yaito exclaimed, then, addressing Daisuke, "You heard that mister! If you don't want them to skin you alive, better let her go!"

.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhh! All is lost! Lost!" Daisuke cried out; Netto had, until then, never heard a grown man despairing for life, emitting sound comparable to the yowling of beastly tribal women of deep rainforests and forgotten islands. It was a haunting sight.

.

To confused Netto, Yaito graciously explained. To her, the victory was at hand; reiterating the situation to Netto was equivalent to proclaiming it.

.

"The white coats, Netto! The deadliest unit the house of Ayanokouji can field! Do you understand now, Netto? Just as expected of someone like him-"

.

No, readers, Yaito did not expect it. She had not been expecting anything from Enzan.

.

"-Enzan sent SOS to Ayanokouji channel! Surely, they will come! We only have to wait a bit, Netto. All will be fine now. Now, speaking of Enzan, why is he still not coming? Ah, so be it, he probably has his own reasons, and he never stays in one place, always making more work for himself…"

.

Yaito made a satisfied expression. There was no worry on her face.

.

"By the way, Netto, can you believe it? This man here, our most illustrious genius Daisuke Hayami, thought you wouldn't make it, swore that Quickman would come any minute now, exclaimed that we must prepare, wrangled the knife from Dekao, and took Mayl hostage! It's easy to see what kind of plan hatched in this stupid and cowardly man's head… Netto, mark my words, they are all the same, the journalists I mean, always depraved, always cowardly, always law-breaking, always lying, always peeking- anyways, I digress. It's clear that he wanted to use Mayl as a distraction, or a shield, against Quickman. You must see, Netto, why else would he do this? It does not matter anymore; it's all over."

.

Yaito turned to Daisuke.

.

"Ha! You are done for, now! Surrender and desist! If you do, and cooperate, I'll personally see to it that you live! Netto, go and take the knife, please." Yaito commanded, naturally, as expected of a person who had been doing it her entire life.

.

Netto hesitated.

.

"Netto?" Yaito asked, not understanding what was taking so long.

.

"Netto?" Yaito asked again. She sensed something was wrong.

.

"Yaito…" Netto said, looking at Yaito like a lost puppy, still panting from the sprint he had.

.

Something was indeed wrong! And she saw that the boy was about to spill it! She knew how Netto's honest heart was compelling the boy to confess everything. If that happened, all was lost.

.

"Hush! Later, Netto, get the knife!" Yaito urged.

.

"But-"

.

"What 'but,' Netto? Get your priorities straight. Don't you see Mayl? Get the knife before she gets hurt!"

.

Netto looked at Yaito and Mayl, back and forth, wrought between the guilt of lying about his (and Enzan's) failure to contain Quickman and the guilt of becoming honest and jeopardizing Mayl, the poor girl who was terrified like a hamster tied by a veterinarian for an X-ray inspection. There did not seem to exist a third choice, and both also seemed to be equally inconducive to his goal.

.

What goal?

.

Oh, readers, Netto was here after promising Quickman that he would bring out Daisuke in exchange for Enzan's life! He also had to keep his end of the bargain swiftly, before the monster decided to not honor their agreement out of impatience. Before entering the cabin, he expected the group to be waiting for him, patiently, orderly, greeting him and then bombarding him with questions. In that estimation, Netto did not know how he would break the news—that Daisuke Hayami must be sacrificed to account for their failures. How could he make everyone understand? Make everyone agree? Subdue Daisuke? Or perhaps, how to deceitfully lead Daisuke out of the safety of the place, unarmed? Back then, all of these considerations felt grievously wrong.

.

The situation at hand solved at least one issue: now Netto did not feel any guilt at the prospect of having to sell the man, like a livestock, in exchange for Enzan's life. However, the knife, as well as the physical initiative, was now with the man. Even without a knife, Daisuke was an adult who could physically dominate or stalemate the combined effort of him and Dekao. Then, how could he-

.

Netto saw Rockman and noticed that his netnavi was moving his lips, trying to deliver an idea. Netto read them. It went 'y-o-u, M-a-y-l.' Others would not have understood such a truncated communication. Netto, however, understood perfectly; his heart resonated with Rockman's (or so it felt), and agreed that he must replace-.

.

Epiphany!

.

Netto approached the man. To everyone, it appeared to be in obedience to Yaito's demands, which meant that she was right, that Enzan would come in soon, and that Daisuke would be shot unless he complied with disarming. Daisuke did not want to be shot. The man, a degenerate coward, was sensible enough to understand that much… He therefore instantly surrendered in his heart and readied himself to hand over the knife.

.

"Good, now take it please." Yaito commanded behind Netto.

.

Netto saw Mayl looking at him with relief. Netto looked away, feeling sorry for what he was about to do.

.

"Mr. Daisuke Hayami," said Netto.

.

"Yes, yes, take it, please, and tell the officer that-" Daisuke pleaded as he reversed the direction of the knife and offered the handle.

.

"I am sorry." Netto did not take the knife. Instead, he confessed, "We have failed to kill Quickman."

.

The statement befuddled everyone. There was a brief pause, and then-

.

"God! Netto! Why?! Would it hurt if you stopped being overly honest for a second?!" Yaito roared in frustration.

.

Netto saw hope seeping out of Mayl's eyes. He could not endure the sight, so he averted his eyes.

.

Daisuke stood and trembled, stunned, processing the ramifications of that statement. He then burst into agitation.

.

"I have feared- and, it is just as I have thought, just as I have guessed, just as I have known all along! The monster of the forest, oh the great judgment, the drinker of souls will be here… I- Oh how I have hoped that you two would slay the monster as Enkidu and Gilgamesh did Humbaba! It's not how things were supposed to happen! Do you understand? No, you dumb little shits would not even comprehend what this all means, or what I am saying… But I was smarter, eh? From my very guts arose intuition that was absolutely correct… Good that I have prepared beforehand! Ah, by the way, I'll give you that—you almost got me there! I believed for a second that Quickman was no more and that I just put myself in a deep trouble…Ahah! But look! I was correct! My instinct, my gut, is always correct, except when it is not, for example- Bah, what does it matter now, eh? And what do I care? That thing is going to come, and I know I need to get the fuck out of here. Once that comes in, what will I do? Threaten with my own life? Will it work? Again? I can sense it, brat… It won't work this time. That thing…evolves, thinks… It's intelligent. If I stay, I'm done for, good as dead! But the white coats are coming, too. You brat, look at what kind of position you put me in. I let go of her, I die by Quickman; I do not let go of her, I die by the whities… At this rate- wait, think, Daisuke, think, think, think, think, think…"

.

Daisuke grabbed the knife tightly and pulled Mayl in closer. The poor girl yelped, almost ready to cry, but too terrified to do so.

.

"But…" Daisuke's eyes gleamed as he studied the girl. "What do we have here? You are…so…so… Little boy, do you see? The skin? The helplessness? Like a lamb most well bred…oh, how succulently…delectable…"

.

Daisuke licked his lips and then looked up at the boy. It was almost like a jolt, hinting at how epileptic his mind has become.

.

"Eheh, ahah, ha, ahaha! It would've been better had she been fatter…but a man's gotta work with what he got! Surely, the beast won't be able to resist, and will take a really good time digging into her, don't you think?"

.

Everyone understood what Daisuke meant. He had reverted to the original plan of using Mayl as a distraction (or a food offering in plainer terms) against Quickman!

.

"NOOOOOO! MAAAAYYL!" Dekao squealed ferociously like a boar. However, he was immediately suppressed, just as boars tend to do when faced with comprehensibly superior violence, when Daisuke pointed the knife at him.

.

"Yeah, that's right, stay there, piglet. Right- right- there- good!" Daisuke excitedly jeered. The man then shifted his attention to what was already in his arms. "Come here, yeah, that's right, good girl, good girl! Come with me-"

.

Daisuke began dragging Mayl by the neck, slowly heading towards the door. The girl began to cry.

.

"Stop!" Netto shouted.

.

Somehow, Daisuke stopped. Maybe, just maybe, it was because the boy's voice resonated perfectly in the living room, having just right wavelength and frequency, generating just enough amount of reverberations, making him sound like an admonition from heaven. Daisuke looked at the boy, for a moment, stunned, and then,

.

"What, you little shit? You still think you are something, eh? Ah- I see! Trying to play a hero…you really like her, don't ya?" Daisuke shook Mayl like a little doll. "I see, I see! Eh, but, sorry, no. Gotta go. I guess you can share her with, well, Quickman, if you are interested. Maybe he will let you have her kidney or two. Ahah, ahah! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

.

Netto bravely declared,

.

"Take me instead."

.

"Why should I?" Daisuke waved the knife, amused.

.

"Yaito is right: you are incredibly stupid. You know that?" Netto escalated.

.

Such a small beratement; disproportionately explosive result. Daisuke cracked.

.

"DO. NOT. CALL. ME. STUPID!" The man bellowed. It was admirably charged with testosterone.

.

"I'll say it again. Stupid. There, like it?" Netto continued to provoke. Yaito, from behind, considered the boy mad beyond saving. She simply stared, aghast.

.

"ARGH!" Daisuke clubbed the wall several times with the knife. A primate-like behavior. A savage, barely even human. "Why, you little-"

.

In the way Daisuke's nerve was failing, Netto saw that his plan was nearing success. He pressed on. It was now or never.

.

"First, she will make noise all the way to wherever you are taking her to, crying or making pleas, and Quickman will find you in no time. You won't like that. Second, Quickman will be plenty happy to see me because I just escaped his grasp, so I'll be the better bait. That guy is quite resentful, you know? I think you two are quite alike…which is not surprising. Third, I'll last longer because I am faster. You don't think Quickman's just going to let you go because you gave him a gift, don't you? Well, if you do, then I feel mighty sorry for you. What you need is an energetic bait that can entertain Quickman until you gain distance. I can give you exactly that. Fourth, I'll be obedient; she will be not. Now, you would be smarter if you took me instead." Netto said all these very quickly.

.

They were all true. Daisuke found his heart deeply pierced by them.

.

Daisuke growled.

.

"Come on, hurry. You don't have much time—Quickman's coming, any minute now. Just let her go. I'll come with you.

.

Daisuke reluctantly released Mayl, almost throwing her. He then snatched Netto.

.

Before being taken outside, Netto caught a glimpse of Mayl. Her expression was that of unbounded wonder and dread, as if she had found her God.

.

Pure Love, Wet Intestines

.

Rockman felt something heavy and sticky pooling in his heart, and it was in every literal sense. It was a strange sensation. Rockman saw Daisuke laying his hands on Netto, trying to find a good hold. The man's left hand finally rested on the shoulder; Rockman clenched his hands.

.

"Shit, can't see anything! Shit, shit, shit…" was the first remark Daisuke made as the door slammed shut behind them. "Alright, little boy, take out your PET and turn on the light. I gotta see what I gotta see, eh?"

.

Netto cooperated. He became a living shield and a flashlight.

.

'This shit… Stop touching my Netto kun-' seethed Rockman, doing his utmost best to not speak it aloud. By logic, he understood that he should not stir the man; by heart, he wanted to skin the man alive, scrub the exposed muscles with salt and vinegar, surgically delaminate vertebrae, place electrodes into the exposed spinal cord, giving electrical stimulations of various parameters, causing involuntary movements and severe contractions, and-

.

[Attention: Battery charge 10%] The PET system reported. Rockman made a quick extrapolation.

.

'Expected time to shutdown at current power consumption: 23 minutes.'

.

Rockman stopped the calculations and returned to the PET. Almost all of the functions were turned off. Ever since he became operational, Rockman had never limited PET this aggressively; consequently, the cyberworld around him became a broken and flickering mess, frighteningly without depth and dimensions, whereas only an extremely small space, barely enough for him to stand on, was spared. The PET became like a coffin. A standing coffin.

.

"Good! Now, keep it that way. You try anything funny, I fucking stab you and leave you in the puddle of your own blood. Just you fucking try me…" Daisuke said, satisfied with Netto's obedience.

.

How dare he! Rockman's spirit burned with judgment. No one spoke to his Netto like that—never! 'You touch him funny and I shred you into pieces…' was what he wanted to say, triumphantly, while threatening him with a formidable glare (Rockman did not understand that he would only appear as scary as an angry squirrel—rather cute than formidable).

.

'Only if I could enter the real world…" Rockman desired. He could not. He was powerless.

.

Rockman felt hot and thick…something—thick as tar—spreading from his heart. Rockman shivered.

.

Netto shivered, briefly. Rockman noticed it.

.

[What is it, Netto kun? Are you cold?] Rockman wrote on the screen.

.

"I don't know…it felt kinda cold. Maybe it's the valley, or maybe it's the water, or it could be the forest-" Netto whispered.

.

"Stop your God damn yapping. Quiet."

.

Daisuke grabbed Netto by the back collar and advanced, holding the boy like a scutum, as if he had become a Roman legionary, and pointed the knife forward like a gladius. The man's hand was damp with cold sweat, and he trembled a lot.

.

"So, mister," Netto started, quietly.

.

"Shut up!" Daisuke urgently whispered.

.

"What's the plan, anyways?" Netto continued.

.

"Shut up, shut up, shut- what does it matter to you, huh?"

.

"Of course it matters."

.

"Shush! Quiet! Quickman will hear us!"

.

Ah, but that was exactly what Netto wanted… Besides, Daisuke was acting as if the sound was more conspicuous than the PET that was illuminating the path like a small sun (Netto turned up the intensity to the maximum). What an irrational analysis!

.

"And why the fuck do you care?" Daisuke added, jittery.

.

In a moment, Netto made a surprised expression that Rockman had never seen before. He studied what he could through the PET screen. For one, the knife, which should have been visible next to Netto, could no longer be seen. What could it be? Where did it go? Netto began to appear extremely uncomfortable. Their eyes met.

.

'b-a-c-k.' Netto informed, aphonic.

.

'Back?' Rockman wondered. 'Knife at the back? Then why- ah! !'

.

Daisuke was pressing his knife against Netto at the back! Rockman then- However, before the netnavi could do anything, Netto slowly shook his head.

.

'Wait' Netto requested, aphonic.

.

"Of course, I have to, sir." Netto calmly said. From the addition of 'sir,' Rockman could see how startled Netto was, and also could guess how hard the knife must be being pressed against the boy. He bit his teeth.

.

"No you don't. Now, just be fucking tranquil before I decide that it was a bad idea to take you."

.

"But if I don't know anything, how will I help you properly?"

.

"Oh yeah?"

.

Netto nodded.

.

"I'll tell you the fucking plan, then, brat. The plan is that if we meet Quickman, you start running and then die fucking slowly and painfully. Got it? Now shut up."

.

From how the expression of the boy changed (wide-eyed, as if something had been violated, irreversibly), Rockman inferred that Daisuke must have pressed the knife almost to full stab. His heart quickened. The thick substance that had been welling up in his heart began to spread, according to the path of the blood, filling his chest. It was hot and nauseating.

.

"Yeah, that's right. Stay that way." Daisuke commented, seeing that Netto had gone quiet.

.

'Don't. You. Treat. My. Netto. Kun. Like. That.'

.

If the man continued to treat Netto like that, then what? What retribution could he make? In what way could he help Netto? What good was he at the moment? Ah, the undeniable reality and the overwhelming sense of powerlessness…

.

"Netto kun, stop…" Rockman pleaded, in the barely audible voice. He was shaking.

.

Netto looked at him. The boy seemed shocked, and then nodded.

.

Rockman noticed how his limbs began to feel heavy and thick. He attributed it to the vexation he was enduring.

.

Forward they went. A little bit ahead, there were markings on the ground, including a trail of something having been dragged away, toward the forest. The place looked familiar. Netto looked up. Rockman, using the camera on the other side of the PET, saw it too.

.

[Welcome], the sign read.

.

It was the place of the attack. The boy looked around, shining the light left and right. As expected, Enzan nor Quickman was present. Netto then started to scan the ground. Rockman, at first, could not understand for what reason the boy did so; soon, he figured out that the boy was searching for the gun that had been struck away.

.

"I. Said. Stop. The. Funny. Stuff. Keep the light steady, boy." Growled Daisuke.

.

The man did not appreciate Netto not focusing on the main path. All he cared about was getting out of this godforsaken valley as soon as possible, and his patience was as unstable as his state of mind. Rockman appeared in front of the boy, made an 'X' sign with his arms, and shook his head vigorously, conveying that the gun should not be searched. If it was found, then for whom would that discovery be? According to his memory, the gun still had one bullet remaining, and Daisuke was most likely to use it against the boy. Netto accepted the advice and abandoned his effort. Rockman returned to the PET.

.

The two entered the trail that went downhill, parallel to the stream on the right. Now, to their left was the forest. The accursed, dark, fearful forest… Contrary to the earlier foray, the density of insects was bearable. Even the moths did not charge recklessly like French knights of Agincourt anymore; they simply hovered nearby. Netto felt like he was being cheated by nature.

.

'Or maybe Enzan is an arthropod whisperer. His blood must be the delicacy of mythical proportions…' Rockman sardonically thought.

.

Walking along the path, Daisuke was perpetually nervous, frequently demanding Netto to stop, sometimes telling him to turn off the light as well, listening intently like a paranoid rabbit. Turning off the light—this was important. It meant that the man was well aware of the risk the light posed, yet he still pressed on with his decision.

.

'This is the worst decision on his part. If he was worried about the balance between terrain visibility and detectability, then he should've chosen the early morning to make the run. However, he decided now would be the best, and it's either because he thought the time was the limiting factor or because his nerves got to him. At any rate, the best he can do is to move as fast as possible while using the brightest illumination for navigation. He is doing neither; he is trying to move during the night slowly. This is beyond stupid…well, it is good for us. We need Quickman to find us, soon. Oh my…how did things come to this?' Rockman noted.

.

Miraculously, they were not attacked up to the signpost that indicated telecommunication limits. Mircale, was it? Did Rockman believe that? For reasons that he did not yet know, it seemed that Quickman was avoiding this stretch of the path as a place of ambush. Last time, Quickman jumped them at the camp entrance at the perfect timing. He did not believe that it was a miracle. Most likely, rather, Quickman already knew of their presence and was stalking them.

.

"Finally!" Daisuke shouted, as if he forgot about Quickman and stealth and all that. He quickly demanded Netto to call the police; Rockman reported, in breaking voice (he lowered the voltage supply to the audio unit until it happened), that the battery was at 5%, the connection was too weak, and that any attempt to do so was meaningless due to severe packet loss.

.

"Then increase the power, god damn it! Do something!" Daisuke sounded like a rude ape throwing a tantrum against its keeper.

.

"Negative. Not enough power left in the battery to attempt a signal boost." Rockman returned, "I advise moving out further for a better connection."

.

'As if I would do anything for you even if I could… Come on, Quickman, I know you are watching somewhere…if this place is no good for you, then I'll make him move out, as much as you want, until he reaches a perfect place for ambush…' Rockman resolved.

.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit… SHIT!" Daisuke trembled, keep reapeating 'shit,' not knowing what to do. Then, seeing that there was nothing more he could do, decided to comply with the request. "Better signal, you said? Fine! I'll give you one…shit, this is shit, all shit…"

.

Little bit past the telecommunication limit sign, the trail became a short wooden bridge that went in front of a medium-sized waterfall. Despite the size, its deceptively high flow rate caused significant volume throughput, and resulted in the inspiringly loud sound of crashing waters. Naturally, all other sounds tended to get drowned out when nearby. The rising mist of splashing water from underneath wet the place like a cloud. The light scattered and lost focus; the boy could see no more than ten meters ahead. Netto shivered; it was damp and cold. One would believe that it was a late autumn, not a summer night.

.

Almost past the waterfall, Netto stopped.

.

[What is it, Netto kun?] Rockman wrote.

.

"No one is holding my collar, Rockman."

.

"…!"

.

Both looked at each other. What to do?

.

"…Mr. Hayami, are you there?" Netto checked.

.

Because no one answered, Netto turned back. Rockman also decided to emerge on Netto's right shoulder; he had to see together. Battery was at 3%.

.

And what they saw-

.

…

.

The mist was heavy and thick. When the flashlight was directed, they could only see the silhouette of two…no, one man and one netnavi, easy to distinguish because of that v-shaped helmet decoration as well as a crudely woven cloak made out of the hides—foul and uncleaned—of animals that made him look like the bottom of a forest arisen. They were facing each other, and Quickman's right hand was around Daisuke, holding the man by the back of the neck. If not for the situation, the arrangement almost passed as a romantic climax… How strong was the grip? Daisuke frantically and repeatedly stabbed Quickman under the ribs (or about that area, if human anatomy is to be assumed). When only the outlines of the two entangled men were visible, it was impossible to tell whether the knife was bouncing off or penetrating. Nevertheless, because Quickman's actions were leisurely, Rockman inferred that the knife was not inflicting any damage.

.

Quickman's left hand reached for Daisuke's unruly right forearm, at a gentle pace. He then bent it, as if another hinge joint was inserted between the ulna and radius. The knife fell onto the ground. Daisuke convulsed. Daisuke must have screamed; Rockman and Netto almost heard it, but the mighty sound of the flowing and crashing water covered it all.

.

Daisuke's knees buckled in pain, but the force with which Quickman held Daisuke was so strong that the height of the man's head did not shift a bit. Quickman touched Daisuke's right cheek preciously, or affectionately, and removed the baseball cap. The cap was tossed. It tumbled and then fell into the stream under the bridge.

.

Quickman continued to touch and inspect Daisuke's face and neck as if they were the most fascinating things on earth. This infinite fascination did not last infinitely, however, as Quickman, at one point, raised his index finger and drew a line from the upper neck to the jugular notch of the sternum. He repeated that motion multiple times, and Rockman noticed that his finger sank in deeper each time. Daisuke's neck was being dissected.

.

Based on what happened next, this must be what had happened: Quickman broke Daisuke's skin, went through the platysma muscle, split the sternohyoid muscle, and reached the inner cavity of the neck. Quickman's finger went in very deep and then fished out a tube-like structure. It was the trachea. He pulled and then released it several times, like a guitarist checking new strings, testing the tension. He then put his index finger on Daisuke's lips, suggesting calm and silence (what impossibly unreasonable demands!); Rockman could see that Quickman was highly disappointed. With what?

.

Quickman turned his head and looked in their direction. His eyes glowed in red.

.

Rockman's heart—the —beat fast. The mysterious substance that began from his heart was now reaching his head.

.

Quickman squeezed his right hand a bit. It must have crushed a segment of the cervical vertebrae and damaged the spinal cord within, for Daisuke's limbs jolted violently and then went motionless. Quickman released Daisuke; the man fell like a broken marionette. Quickman then launched himself towards them like a bolt of lightning. In what was only a few dozen milliseconds, Rockman saw the glint of Quickman's wrist blades, their orientations, their projected spatial coverage, and the possible intent of the monster. The endpoint was Netto's abdomen.

.

It could not be.

.

'No

'No

'No

'No

'Netto kun-'

.

"NEEEEETTOOOOO!" Rockman shouted, wishing, desiring, wanting, praying, to reach the space between the monster and the boy, to-

.

Something happened. A bright light—crimson light! And then it was as if the smallest spark of the hellfire was injected into his body and then ignited the strange tar-like substance that had been spreading inside his body. The flame spread, following the path of arterial vasculature, not sparing a single particle of his body. Oh, the burning! The heat! The hotness and the indescribable pain of being endlessly cooked fiercely from inside! Followed by coldness that was like the winds of Siberia! Ah, the liberating headache-

.

Before the bright light faded, Rockman felt something incredibly cold brushing against his belly. When he came to, he found himself at the exact place that he wanted to be: the outside world, about three meters in front of Netto. To his 10 o clock was Quickman, taller than him, surprised beyond what is describable. Rockman looked down. In his belly was the blade, stuck.

.

Quickman retreated. A burning sensation, severe cramp, and sharp pain replaced the blade.

.

Rockman put his left hand on the place the blade had just pried. He decided to not check the damage. He was still functional. However, he could feel the cut slightly opening. In response, he slightly bent forward, assuming a posture similar to zenkutsu dachi of karate. Doing so successfully applied some pressure against injury; Rockman could feel the place stabilizing. Instinctively, he wanted to hide what was happening from Netto, so he did not turn around to check the boy.

.

"…Rockman?" Netto muttered, dreamy.

.

"Netto kun! Battle chips, now!"

.

"Right, wait, shit, where were they, so… Oh…"

.

The light coming from behind him disappeared. The flashlight expired. Rockman, however, did not notice it, as he found himself able to see through the moonless night as if it was the midday of solstice.

.

"Netto kun?"

.

"Rockman… The PET, its…"

.

"What?"

.

"…The battery… it's out…"

.

Rockman finally realized that he could see as if the light and dark were one.

.

A little pause ensued. Rockman did not have to see to picture Netto standing awkwardly with a wandering expression. Ah, lovely face, lovely creature, strategic value absolute, everything he lived for, the very thing he lived to save. Rockman's lips curved.

.

"Netto kun, can you see?"

.

"No."

.

"It's okay," Rockman replied, tenderly, "I'll take care of him."

.

Despite the injury, Rockman emanated confidence that made Quickman (even Netto) believe the blue navi had something superior and fiery inside him. Suppressed, Quickman did not resume the attack.

.

"Ah, a fellow brother of faith!" Quickman remarked in the friendliest tone, except his eyes wandered here and there, studying the blue navi, trying to understand the weakness and why he felt so inferior in comparison. "A wandering shadow in the world of the light! My heartfelt greetings!"

.

Quickman bowed lightly. The cloak only rendered the motion eerie and incomprehensible.

.

"Fuck. You." Rockman replied, slightly labored.

.

"And so hostile! Oh, I am hurt- brother, I was simply being friendly! Don't you remember the teachings, brother? We are all shadows, and therefore we must be-"

.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Brother."

.

Quickman gasped, which was artificial and exaggerated.

.

"How could this be? But in the faith and the teachings- Ah, the teachings! We are one, whether we like it or not! Like briers we shall interlock; like thistles we bruise each other! Is it because of that little unfortunate collision we just had, brother? I am sorry, terribly, but you must admit that you were also at fault there… Who could've known that you would come out like that, at that timing, at that location? Truly, you had ample chances to- Ahah! I see! That boy, he is yours, isn't he?" Quickman eyed the boy. "You were saving him for later!"

.

"You. Don't. Look. At. My. Netto. Kun. Like. That." Rockman spoke the ultimatum.

.

"Yes, you were! So it is, so it is! But how could this be?" Quickman inhaled, perplexed. "I did not believe it the first time you spoke, because, under this eternally crimson sky that presses down on us and the pulsating moon that remembers us, how am I supposed to know if this was another trickery of the devious light? But I am certain now; there is no mistaking it: you are complete! Which means that you have already- but then how does it make sense that you are claiming that boy for yourself when you have no need for him? How is it that you are oppressing me? How? Why?"

.

Rockman glanced at the sky. It was dark indigo. What crimson?

.

"You have Hayami, right behind you. That's who you wanted. Take him and get lost." Rockman growled.

.

"Oh, but my good sir…" Quickman pleaded, regretfully, "This man here, by the name Disuke Hayami he goes… He stinks! You have no idea the life he led, the lies he made, the prices he paid, the conscience he shed, the paths he trod… I was part of them, so I know them all… Guess what? All of those deeds- they accumulated. Even so, I knew, from the very beginning, that what I have become is the reflection of his soul, and that his soul is precisely what fits me… But woe to me for I have laid my eyes on the soul of that boy- so beautiful! So- fragrant-! Compared to that of Daisuke here… Do you understand? This thing here is absolutely unbearable, like a soup of maggots. I have decided that the soul of that boy behind you would suit me better, certainly. At least, where is the harm in trying? So, please, would you please kindly yield him to me? A pity, that's all I ask…"

.

Rockman glared.

.

"So, no? Please think again… You already have a soul, so beautiful, so perfect, so…so…like opal and turquoise and emerald and bismuth! You already have one, but why must you be so greedy? Why must you take it all? Why can't you yield? Is it because-"

.

Quickman's eyes widened.

.

"Could it be? Well, it must be, for there is no other rational answer… You are trying to get him 'changed,' aren't you? You seek the miracle that was bestowed onto the pontifex maximus, the master of the most exemplary frigid heart, by our most graciously hideous light! Ah, but give up, brother, it is nothing but a myth never proven, although some swear by its truth… It is true that those some also claim that our pontifex maximus was once human, but how can we believe it when we have never seen him? I certainly have not, and I have attended many congregations! I was even 'baptized,' you see, and so received the dream and the bubbling chalice… Brother, it is all for naught! I promise you- it is futile to search for the ! Please, have pity on me; is it not more important to help a brother at hand than to cling on to distant hopes?"

.

Quickman finished the analysis. The more he looked at Rockman, the more the blue navi seemed weak and conquerable, as well as the initial impression of an insurmountable dominance dissipating.

.

Even so, Quickman came forward at a timid pace. Then, pacing left and right, he probed Rockman like a timid rat, ready to retreat faster than he came, constantly testing limits. When the hands and blades came too close, Rockman struck them away, but that was the extent of the resistance he showed. The blue netnavi's conservative replies only boldened Quickman.

.

"What is it? Ahah! Ahah! You acted as if you would dismantle me into pieces, but what is it? You pretended!" Quickman began to put certain unpredictable rhythm into his steps, bouncing left and right, trying to get in range and give a slice or two. They were manageable; as Quickman accelerated, the bounce became pendulation, which then became vibration, which then became alternating teleportation (not literally, but Rockman felt it was an equivalent), which then became a simultaneous existence. Although the bridge that he was standing on limited the angles of approach, because Quickman occupied the entire frontal arc, Rockman found his position unsustainable. Shallow numerous cuts began to appear on him, most of them on his arms.

.

When Quickman became too bold, Rockman inserted a shallow kick or two. They alarmed the navi greatly, and after barely dodging them, Quickman strictly kept his assault in the methodical fashion. It seemed that Quickman was determined to erode Rockman one particle at a time.

.

"Come on! Do something! Come on! Where did that glare go? Huh? Hahahahahahahaaah! Why you won't move? Is it that you can't move?! Wait- of course, of course!" the monster remarked.

.

Inside the eyes of the monster was the reflection of Netto. Rockman noticed it.

.

"Keep- your- eyes- off- him-!" Rockman shouted, finding it unbearable.

.

"haah haaaaaah ahahahahaaaah hahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAA!" Quickman continued in his laughter of ephiphany. 'Well, well, well!' He concluded, 'I see! I was frightened for nothing! Nothing at all!'

.

Quickman lunged forward. To humans, it was an unbelievably feline speed, as it took him less than a second to come next to Rockman. However, because of the fine timescale the netnavis lived in, Rockman saw and perceived it all. First, he parried both arms of Quickman using his free right hand. Then, seeing that there was an opening, Rockman released his left hand from the duty of abdomen compression and grabbed Quickman by the left arm. The abdomen hastily warned that it was ready to fail and let loose what was being held inside, but Rockman ignored it. There was a more immediate threat at hand: Quickman swung his right wrist blade against him; at the danger of having his left arm severed, Rockman let go. The moment he did so, however, he witnessed the exhilarating smile that filled Quickman's face.

.

Quickman was bypassing him! Heading straight to Netto! The deranged monster was apparently not so deranged in calculative functions, and it turned out that the attacks were half-hearted attempts, designed exactly to occupy Rockman only for a moment. Quickman was no longer looking at him.

.

'No you don't!' Rockman pivoted around counterclockwise, following the angular momentum generated by the retraction of his left arm, and then stretched his right hand. It reached, and he was able to grab the left brachium of escaping Quickman. Rockman reeled in the catch, like a fisherman of great strength.

.

'Che, nuisance!' Quickman noted.

.

Finding it impossible to escape, Quickman turned. Then, hoping to force Rockman away from him, he swung his blade, vertically, striking the blue netnavi from above. If the blue navi dodged, Quickman could continue towards his target; if the blue navi remained, then the blow would confer irreversible damage. A dilemma of no solutions. Quickman convinced himself that he had won. He made a wide smile that could only be the product of a filthy and arrogant heart. He stopped combat calculations and instead initiated various considerations on how to extract from the boy the most fabulously tormented breath, for in the breath was the soul, and the wonderfully beautiful soul such as his had to be properly twisted.

.

Rockman raised his left hand. The blade struck between the third and fourth fingers and began to cleave the arm along the length. It went through the hand; it went through the wrist; it went through- ah! In the antebrachium, between the ulna and radius, the blade became wedged.

.

It was too late for Quickman to renew the combat calculations! When a suitable counterresponse did not come within a hundred milliseconds, Rockman continued without hesitation, unhindered, and struck the monster out of balance using his right leg, in a sweeping motion that was of perfect balance and shape as if he was pedipulating a soccer ball. With a thud, Quickman found himself on the floor.

.

"Huh?" Quickman remarked.

.

"NOT-" Rockman stepped on the Quickman's chest, firmly fixing him in place. Quickman looked at Rockman. It was too late.

.

"MY-" Rockman pulled violently on Quickman's left arm, which he was still holding on with his right hand. Quickman's arm stretched like a polyurethane tube. The fibers around the shoulder girdle snapped one by one until, with a sound that was similar to the breaking of natural rubber, the arm came off. A great scream came with it.

.

"NETTO-" The pulled arm was hanging in his hand, spontaneously convulsing. Rockman shifted his grip from the brachium to the carpalis (wrist), which was the base of the blade. He then struck it into Quickman's remaining right shoulder, pierced it, nailed it to the wooden bridge, twisted it until he heard a great crack, then pulled away his left arm from the wedged blade. Quickman begged while twisting like a freshly decapitated snake.

.

Rockman noticed something was leaking in great quantity from his divided left arm. He instinctively knew that it was that something which was thick and viscous and had been flowing forth from his heart since earlier this night. He found himself becoming dizzy, rapidly.

.

"-KUN!"

.

Rockman stomped on the Quickman's face. He wanted it to be crushed like a watermelon, but it resisted like a ripe coconut. Rockman stomped again. The feeling under his foot seemed to suggest some compression—progression! Rockman stomped again. There definitely was some more deformation. Rockman stomped again. Good! Again, again, again, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp…

.

Quickman stopped moving. To be exact, it happened around the fifteenth stomp, but Rockman gave at least a dozen more for a good measure. When the wrath subsided, Rockman removed his foot and found the head to be adequately formless. Feeling quite dizzy, like a sailor hopelessly drunk in purest brandies and rums, he decided it was okay. Then, in weak and dragging steps, he approached Netto. Even in this, he was like an alcohol-saturated wretch, whose life had been a complete waste, returning solely based on the homing instinct.

.

"…Rockman?"

.

Netto asked in a weak voice. The boy still could not see. In the darkness, wild imaginations ran through him as he heard the exchanges. At this moment, all he could be certain was the unstable footsteps in front of him, which he guessed to be Rockman's. However, the uncertainty made the boy's heart tremble.

.

"Netto…kun" Rockman answered.

.

Having reached Netto, Rockman extended his right hand—his only functioning hand. It touched the boy's cheek. Ah, the tender cheeks…

.

"Rockman, is it over? Are you okay?"

.

Rockman sounded a bit off. No, it wasn't about the fatigue; Netto could not pinpoint it.

.

"…Netto kun."

.

"…Yes?"

.

"Can we…sit down? I'm…tired…"

.

Netto obliged. Rockman sat on the boy's lap, still facing the boy. His blue legs wrapped around the boy's waist, like a higurashi cicada.

.

Netto, unable to see anything, even Rockman's face which was quite close by, extended his arms wide and far, and then slowly closed them. In time, they wrapped around Rockman's back. That strong yet small back. Netto noticed the well defined borders of the scapulae. Netto noticed the warmth that was cooling.

.

"Rockman-"

.

"Netto kun, just, a little bit, like this…" Rockman leaned into the boy. It was nice. It was like a dream. He felt the hands on his back firmly pressing.

.

Rockman noticed the PET on the right side, lonely on the ground. He picked it up, slowly, not because he was sentimental but because it was all the strength left inside him. It was dusty. Habitually, he raised his left hand and tried to brush it away-

.

"Oh." Rockman observed with an extinguishing sigh-like voice.

.

From the split left hand it flowed, the black and thick liquid that was like diluted tar… It was smeared all over the screen, and the PET was ruined.

.

"What is it, Rockman?"

.

"…Here. It's time that we go home…" Rockman pressed the device against Netto's chest. Netto's left hand retreated and grabbed it. The boy's right hand still held onto Rockman.

.

"Ah, the PET…" The boy recognized.

.

For some reason, the PET's light came back up. The screen showed the battery at 2% and charging. Could it be…the blood?

.

Netto's eyes widened.

.

"R- Rockman!"

.

It wasn't a dream.

.

"…Un, Netto kun…"

.

Like a student who hadn't slept for seven days dozing off, Rockman's head temporarily slumped.

.

"Rockman? Rockman! Do- don't do this to me… You are scaring me… We, I have to get you back to the PET. Shit, what is this stuff? How can I do it? What do you need me to do? Rockman, Rockman, do you hear me? Rockman- Wha- Shit, Rockman, your arm!"

.

"…Un, Netto kun…"

.

"Rockman!"

.

"…I'm sorry, Netto kun… I dirtied your PET…"

.

"Don't, don't talk anymore…just let me know what I need to do, please-"

.

Rockman put his right hand on Netto's shoulder. It became too heavy for him to wield. Left hand? It had been dangling like a pendulum, strengthless, the whole time.

.

"…I'm dirty, Netto kun…"

.

"No, you are not! What are you saying? Shit, it does not matter, Rockman, it's just a stupid PET-"

.

"…Yes…I am…"

.

"No, you are not dirty, Rockman. It's fine. It's okay…"

.

"I'm…not?"

.

"Yes, you are not."

.

"Eheh…heh… Thank you…Netto kun… Clean me up…alright?..."

.

Rockman, with the drowsiest face and dullest eyes in which was no longer the spark of soul, brought his face closer to Netto's. So close. Netto could see the edges of his eyelashes-

.

He pecked the boy's lips.

Gently.

Airy.

It was like the moon of cloudless nights, so close, so far away.

.

It was just a moment. Rockman's face went back.

.

"Eheh…I'm clean now…" Rockman innocently smiled.

.

Then, the blue navi collapsed, like a column of melting wax, slowly and steadily, exactly at the pace his consciousness seeping away.

.

When Netto looked down, he saw the insides of Rockman herniating, arrested in the process of flowing out. It was wet and glistening, in the purest and transparent red, like the rubies of Mogok.