Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 7 Chapter 2 Part 3

Chapter 2 Part 3

A pale blue sky hung over Yokohama that day. It was perfect—almost anyone would want to take in a deep breath just looking up at it. But some felt differently. The sky was too clear. When the flames of destruction scorched this land, that same sky would be drenched in black smoke. And that black smoke would start to rise at any moment.
Dazai and Chuuya had very reluctantly started this investigation together. Their goal: find the spark that would create the black smoke and extinguish it. They didn’t have much time left.
The pair headed down an alley on that quiet, sunny day. They were scowling, not talking to each other, making sure to stay a good fifteen feet apart. Dazai was in the front, Chuuya was behind him. Surely, no one would think they were traveling together with this much distance between them.
“…Hey,” Chuuya muttered softly.
Dazai didn’t reply. He didn’t even turn around.
“…Hey, I’m talkin’ to you,” Chuuya repeated. “Tell me where we’re going.”
“Gosh, the weather is really nice today. In fact, it’s so nice, I think I can hear a little fairy talking to me.”
“Aw, piss off. You know it’s me.”
Dazai looked back. “Oh, how long have you been there? Do you think you could leave me alone? I’m kind of busy breathing right now.”
“I’m about to rip that head right off your body, mummy boy,” Chuuya growled. “Anyway, forget it. Just tell me where we’re going.”
“Fine, you win. But would you mind keeping your distance? I don’t want anyone to think I know you.”
“Don’t worry. I feel the same way.”
“Hee-hee. Look at us getting along so well. That’s what makes me love you!”

“The hell?! Quit that! You’re making me sick!”
“…Yeah, I felt pretty sick myself after I said that,” Dazai grumbled remorsefully. Without looking back at Chuuya, he continued, “What was your question again? Oh, right. You wanted to know where we’re headed. We’re going to investigate. I thought we should start asking people who saw the explosion up close about what they witnessed.”
“You wanna interview people? Ugh… I thought we were gonna kick some ass, make the enemy spill their guts.”
“Well, you were wrong.” Dazai shot Chuuya a look of disgust.
“What are we even investigating the explosion for?” Chuuya demanded. “Why not focus on eyewitness accounts of the old boss?”
Dazai stared at him for a few moments before replying, “Because we aren’t tracking rumors about the old boss. We’re tracking rumors about Arahabaki itself. If the resurrection was a fake created by some sort of skill, then that means a skill user is pretending to be Arahabaki. No matter how perfectly they’re pulling off the act, they can’t just stop eating, breathing, going about their usual life. That’s what we’re after.”
Chuuya frowned. “But…my guys in the Sheep already looked into rumors surrounding Arahabaki. Like, a ton.”
Dazai grinned. “Just because they love gossip doesn’t mean they’ve gotten to talk to everyone.”
He faced ahead once more, kept on walking, and continued, “A week ago, there was an explosion just like the one we experienced. Same place in Suribachi, too. It took me a while to realize since nobody mentioned seeing the previous boss there, but that explosion was likely caused by the same thing we’re investigating. We’re going to talk to a survivor of that explosion.”
“‘A survivor’? You mean there were casualties?”
“Yeah. A whole group of Mafia members, and only the skill user survived. You’ve already met him once. His house is right over there. He should be expecting us—”
The moment Dazai pointed down the alleyway, an earthshaking roar erupted from that same direction.
“Ah?!”
Startled, Chuuya promptly looked at where the noise had come from. “Oh, great…” Dazai was clearly annoyed. “That was an explosion we just heard.”
The blast occurred at a nearby mansion. Black smoke rose from the building, and the sound of gunfire could be faintly heard as well.
“The hell? Didn’t you just say we were gonna go meet some survivor over there?”
“It looks like the enemy might have beaten us to the punch.” “Seriously? That’s definitely not good. Oh, man.”
Dazai looked at Chuuya, who was positively brimming with excitement, contrary to Dazai’s expectations.
“Guess that means we’ve gotta forget about that boring interview you wanted and go kick some ass instead, eh?” said Chuuya.
“…What?”
“All right! Time for a beatdown! C’mon!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Chuuya dashed off like the wind.
Dazai simply watched blankly. “…What a child…”
Over half the ivied European-style mansion had been destroyed. The right half was a very well-kept, old-fashioned manor while the left half was a mountain of black rubble. Embers sizzled in the debris as ashy smoke rose into the sky.
The mansion was in a man-made forest separate from the residential section of town, so there didn’t appear to be any injured people or onlookers.
There were, however, seven or eight armed men facing the building with their pistols drawn. Gunshots echoed every moment or two.
“Looks like it’s already started,” Dazai observed from within the forest’s shrubbery. “The explosion sure did a lot of damage. If only I’d been in the middle of that, I would’ve had a quick and painless death…”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll beat ya to a pulp as many times as you want later, so focus on the mission right now, okay?”
Chuuya shot Dazai a reproachful gaze, then looked back to the mansion. “The place is under attack by an armed militia. They’ve got eight outside, but who knows how many inside.”
The instant Chuuya finished his sentence, one of the building’s gypsum- plaster walls on the second floor exploded and an armed man came flying out. It seemed as if someone had ejected him from the building.
“Oh… Yep. A few guns aren’t gonna help them against Randou’s powers,” Dazai said at length.
“Randou?”
“He’s a skill user with the Mafia. We were supposed to meet today. Remember the guy in winter clothes who restrained you in the boss’s office? That’s him.”
“Oh, that guy.” Chuuya frowned. “Wanna go save him?”
“Well, we first need to find out who this armed group is working for and the scale of their operations…”
All of a sudden, Dazai and Chuuya heard someone behind them raise a gun.
“I could tell you that,” came a man’s voice—a gentle voice, like the kiss of death. “Hands in the air and turn around.”
Dazai and Chuuya exchanged brief glances before raising their hands and turning to face the man. He was wearing a charcoal-gray military uniform. A burly figure, like a massive tree that had come to life, he had his pistol aimed at Dazai.
“Hmph. Just a couple of kids,” the man barked in surprise. “I thought the Mafia called for backup. Are they that short-staffed? Or is this Randou guy just not very popular?”
“W-w-w-we’re so sorry! We’re just…some kids who live in the neighborhood!” Dazai’s voice was trembling with fear. “We were delivering something to Randou’s house, but when we got here—”
“Hey, Gramps,” Chuuya shouted with glee, cutting off Dazai midsentence. “Let’s save each other some time. First, you shoot me, then I’ll knock you all the way into the next town over. I’ll kick the rest of your buddies’ asses, too, while I’m at it. And then, bam, we’re done. What do you say?”
“What?” The man aimed his pistol at Chuuya next.
“…Ugh.” Dazai stopped trembling, buried his face in his hands, and shook his head. “I had the guy completely fooled. We could have gotten some information out of him…”

“What’s the matter? Ya don’t shoot kids?”
Chuuya walked over until he was close enough to grab the man’s gun, then looked up into the muzzle. “You oughta know not to judge a book by its cover if ya wanna survive in this world. You work for the GSS, right?”
The man grimaced. The GSS—the Gelhart Security Service—was an illegal organization at war with the Port Mafia. Formerly a respectable foreign-funded private security firm, they became a full-fledged illegal organization after their government subsidies got cut off. Now they were not only a security service but an engineer of danger as well. In the simplest of terms, they were pirates. They destroyed the ships of those who didn’t hire them and stole the cargo on board. And yet, the GSS’s security clients never had their ships attacked. This organization was both the problem and the solution, and their notoriety garnered more than enough publicity for them to win over customers.
Their side business led them to attack and steal from the Port Mafia a few times, which was why relations between the two groups were so hostile. And since the GSS’s drill instructor was an actual soldier, their members were all highly trained fighters, which proved very problematic for the Mafia.
“Hurry up and shoot me,” Chuuya taunted while placing the muzzle against his head. The man tightened his finger around the trigger, but he couldn’t pull it. His gun started sinking.
“What the…? My gun’s…getting really heavy…!”
“Don’t tell me you’re worn out already. You’re a man, right? It’s not that
heavy.”
Chuuya then gently touched the gun. That alone made the lightweight pistol feel like a lump of iron weighing down the man’s hand. After that, Chuuya gave the weapon another gentle prod, which suddenly launched it into the man’s torso. The pistol buried itself inside the man’s bulletproof vest with the weight and power of a cannonball. His sternum cracked upon impact, and he let out an agonized scream, then stepped back and grabbed his chest. His pistol dropped to the ground with a faint clink—it had returned to its normal weight without Chuuya’s touch.
“A kid who can manipulate gravity… Don’t tell me you’re the Sheep’s Chuuya Nakahara?” the man moaned as he clutched at his chest. “So the rumors were true! You really did become the Mafia’s dog!” he shouted in rage as he raised his fist. He threw a reverse punch, twisting his hip to land the close-hitting blow.
“…Tsk.”
But before the military-grade punch could reach Chuuya, a black whirlwind slammed into the man’s chin. It was Chuuya’s hammer-like right heel; he’d jumped into the air and landed a lightning-fast roundhouse kick.
“I didn’t join the Mafia, damn it. Got that?”
The man lay flat on his back, unconscious from a concussion. It would be a while before he’d be waking up again.
“Impressive.” There was hollow applause. “What speed. You threw a roundhouse kick after he threw a straight punch, and you were able to hit him first.”
Chuuya was capable of manipulating the gravity of not only things he touched but his own body as well. He could decrease the force of gravity on his body to make himself lighter, thus speeding up his attacks only to normalize gravity the instant before his strike landed. The result: a kick with the swiftness of a feather and the weight of an iron ball.
“And all you did was watch like a little wimp, mummy boy.”
“Unlike a certain schoolboy who likes to show off how tough he is, I was gathering information on the enemy from his communicator.”
Dazai had the gunman’s communication device pressed against his ear.
He must have taken it out of his pocket.
“Apparently, the rest of his crew are heading this way after they heard the guy scream when you hit him.”
Around a dozen armed men appeared the moment Dazai finished his sentence. They slowly surrounded the two boys with their rifles aimed and ready to fire.
“Hey, bandages. I’ll kick their asses, so play me some background music. Somethin’ hard rock.”
“Did you hit your head as a child?” Dazai shot Chuuya a steely glare. “Captain’s down! Our opponent is the gravity manipulator! Open fire!”
The men began firing all at once. Chuuya kicked off the ground practically at hyper speed. The battle had begun…if a one-sided beatdown counted as a battle, that is.
The enemies’ bullets were ineffective as Chuuya kicked one after another to the ground. The 7.92 mm bullets hit Chuuya, but they didn’t pierce his body. They simply bounced off him like wood chips, for the force of their gravity was immediately neutralized upon impact.
Chuuya kept low to the ground as he dashed forward like a wild animal, not allowing the bullets to slow him down. He charged into one of the armed men, who flew into the air as if he’d been caught up in an explosion. Chuuya landed on his opponent’s torso, then leaped in the opposite direction to throw a vertical ax kick on another nearby foe’s rifle, bending it in half. After reducing his weight to almost nothing, Chuuya kicked off the rifle and leaped back into the air. As he soared high into the sky, a bullet hit his shoulder, but Chuuya sent the bullet back the way it came, piercing through the enemy’s shoulder before burrowing itself into the ground. Sometimes, he was like a tornado; at others, he was like a comet crashing to Earth. Nobody could move quickly enough to follow him with their eyes, much less their rifle.
“Haaa-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Chuuya cackled in midair. His overwhelming speed and reflexes dominated his opponents. Even Dazai had forgotten to breathe as he watched the storm that was Chuuya decimate the battlefield.
It wasn’t long until there was just one enemy left. He was bleeding from the shoulder and glaring at Chuuya, who approached with bloodshot eyes. The man had already used his spare magazines and pulling the trigger only made light clicking noises in vain.
“It’s over,” said Chuuya. “Tell me why you guys attacked.”
He slowly walked through the woods, taking his time to saunter toward his foe like a king.
“What do you know about Arahabaki? Why’d you go after one of the Mafia’s sub-executives?”
“Damn it…! I won’t let…a little brat like you…!”
The last enemy tossed his rifle aside and took out his backup pistol at his waist.
“Don’t.” Chuuya didn’t bat an eye. “Put the gun away. You can’t even hit me with an injury like that. You’re playin’ with your life.”
“Die…!”
The gun went off. Chuuya went to deflect the bullet by manipulating its gravity…but he couldn’t. He didn’t need to. The man’s injuries caused him to miss, and the bullet simply passed by Chuuya’s head, hitting the large tree behind him before bouncing off the hard bark. The hollow-point bullet, which left the barrel moving hundreds of miles per hour, still maintained a decent amount of speed, even after ricocheting off the tree. The now- flattened projectile began spinning out of control. It headed straight back to the man who’d fired it before piercing his neck.
“Kah…!”
Unable to even scream in astonishment, the man collapsed to the ground. A gush of blood followed shortly afterward. It was an unfortunate accident but nothing unusual on a battlefield. After watching the entire event play out, Chuuya knitted his brow and lightly clicked his tongue.
“Tsk. You shoulda listened.” He turned around and began walking away. “That’s the last of ’em. Let’s go.”
Dazai didn’t say a word. He stumbled over to the collapsed man and crouched right next to his head. “You’re one unlucky guy. Does it hurt?”
Dazai’s expression was calm, but there was a faint twinkle deep within his eyes. The kind of twinkle a boy who wants to grow up to be a firefighter gets in his eyes when he sees his hero in the flesh.
“…Guh…”
“The bullet pierced your neck. It’s too late to save you now with a wound like that. But it’s still going to take around five minutes for you to die. You shouldn’t have used your gun.” Dazai shook his head. “Those five minutes are going to be pure hell. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. What do you want to do? Do you want me to end your suffering with this gun?”
The man groaned painfully. He was trying to say something, but he couldn’t get the words out.
“I’m doing work for the Mafia. That means I’m your enemy. But you’re showing me something extremely valuable—your death—so I want to pay you back. Now, if you want me to kill you, you should ask while you can still talk.”
The man’s eyes shimmered with despair. “…Me… Shoot…me…” “All right.”
Dazai stood up and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the man’s head, rendering him just another inanimate object.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.”
Dazai fired once more. And again. He repeatedly shot the body until it started bouncing up and down.
“Ha-ha-ha. What a luxury. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

“Quit that, you idiot.”
Chuuya grabbed the gun and stopped him. Dazai, clearly bewildered, looked at the gun, then at the body below him, and then at Chuuya.
“He’s already dead,” said Chuuya. “Quit shooting his corpse.”
Dazai was puzzled. His expression was bizarrely childlike—fit for a boy his age, yet unlike any he had shown before. His lips suddenly curled into a gloomy smile.
“You’re right. When you’re right, you’re right. That’s the most normal reaction to have.”
He then tossed the pistol to the ground like a piece of trash before walking away, as if he’d grown bored with both the corpse and Chuuya. His expression was back to how it normally was: lifeless and utterly disinterested.
“Ha-ha. ‘Normal.’ Ha-ha-ha.”
Dazai’s hollow laughter filled the cluster of trees, vanishing into thin air.