Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 8 Chapter 3 Part 5

Shirase suddenly appeared to be in pain. He collapsed to the floor, grabbed his throat, and began writhing in agony.
“Shirase! What’s wrong?!” I asked, already running a diagnosis.
His heart rate was slowing. His blood pressure dropped. He was clammy and twitching, and he was having trouble breathing. It was a textbook example of poisoning, but the air composition was as per usual, no irregularities. I checked my logs from previous environmental scans, but there were no traces of poison gas anywhere.
I promptly gave him a shot of atropine, an anticholinergic agent, in order to alleviate the symptoms. After observing him for a while, I saw signs of improvement, so I decided to give him an even bigger dose. I had a moderate stock of drugs to combat biological and chemical weapons, since I was originally designed for use in warfare. With this drug, his life was no longer in danger.
After Shirase had settled down, I gently laid him on the floor and tried to leave the room. But I could not. The door wouldn’t open—neither the door we came from nor the door to the elevator. I could not connect to the control panel, either. I was also unable to contact anyone outside the facility since I already learned the room had electromagnetic shielding.
N had lured us into this room to trap us. That was his plan all along.
The mission’s risk level suddenly increased 38 percent. This was an extremely unfavorable position to be in. After thinking for a few moments, I rammed my body into the exit, but the iron door did not even budge. I threw a metal chair at it, but that only left a slight dent.
I was in a narrow, corridor-like room with only a chair, desk, and lockers for the employees. I could have contacted someone outside if there were a device that could take a wired connection. Furthermore, the floor and ceiling were made of extremely thick iron for the electromagnetic shielding, so breaking through them to escape would prove extremely difficult.
There was no other option.
I reached for my lower back and opened the attachment port, then felt around for the correct part before pulling it out. Next, I opened up my right hand from between my index and middle fingers down to my wrist and equipped the new part in the crevice.
It was a military-grade attachable handsaw. The rotating saw was around the size of my palm. It was typically used to chase after a suspect who escaped behind a locked door.
While rotating the blade, I pressed the saw against the locking mechanism on the door leading to the direction we came. A high-pitched, harsh noise filled the air as sparks flew onto my suit. It was going to take a while, but I had to hurry. This research facility was dangerous.
The poison was probably meant for Master Chuuya while Shirase was merely collateral damage. And now we were trapped. Master Chuuya was in danger. He might have already been killed, even. Or worse…
The room was empty. There were no tables, no chairs, no monitors, no decorations—nothing. There were only notches carved into the wall for measuring height. The room was around the size of a small school pool—in fact, it was actually a tank for storing water to be used during laboratory emergencies.
Chuuya was hanging from the wall in that room. He was held up by his wrists which were tied up with thick barbed wire that pierced his skin like a
wild beast sinking its teeth into its prey. His feet barely managed to touch the floor.
His shirt had been removed, revealing the bleeding holes left by the bullets. The two deepest holes were in his chest and stomach and had large stakes stuck inside them. These stakes were connected to the ceiling with a chain that carried an electric shock through them.
Chuuya screamed. The smell of burnt flesh tickled his nose.
The electric current went through the stakes and exited through the barbed wire around his wrists. Each shock tore his muscles, nerves, and organs so excruciatingly it felt like he was being turned into mincemeat. Agony like this would make most wish they were never born.
“I’m…gonna kill you…,” Chuuya groaned while he glared at the monitor hanging from the ceiling.
Another electrical shock. He growled deeply like a wild beast once more.
N was watching from the observation room. The electric current’s white flashes were visible, but N didn’t even blink.
“Give him ten milliliters of Midazolam,” he ordered his nearby subordinate, keeping his eyes glued to the screen.
“But his heart rate…,” a young researcher said while checking the measurements on a device.
“It won’t kill him. Do it.”
A few devices suddenly moved, and a clear liquid began flowing through one of the four white tubes inserted in Chuuya’s back before disappearing into his body. His eyes opened wide and he began to groan in agony as if his innards were being twisted.
Nevertheless, N’s expression still didn’t change. He showed neither sympathy nor malice. His eyes seemed to only be seeing numerical values as he observed Chuuya.
There were around twenty chairs, several gauges, and a group of researchers in the observation room. Everyone was busily shuffling back and forth while comparing any situational changes against their notes to make sure nothing would get in the way of this important experiment.
“Does it hurt, Chuuya?” N asked into the microphone in front of him.
Chuuya remained hanging lifelessly without replying.
“Sorry. I wish there was another way we could do this.” N didn’t sound remotely guilty. “But this is the only way to save you,” he added while checking the experiment’s values out of the corner of his eye. “Just like how we respect your will, we respect the will of your skill, Arahabaki, as well. But…how should I put this? Your will is tying Arahabaki down, and as long as your will is firm, we won’t be able to remove Arahabaki from you. We won’t be able to remove the only singularity in this country that we can control—the one thing that reshapes what is considered common knowledge when it comes to skills.”
After that, N cut off the microphone with the switch in his hand, then asked the subordinate next to him, “How is he reacting to the Midazolam?”
“He’s showing symptoms. It will take another two minutes before we see a significant response.”
N nodded. “Give him another twenty milliliters,” he ordered before turning the microphone back on.
“Chuuya, your persona model is clutching the reins of Arahabaki and holding it back. Basically, killing you would cause us to lose a singularity we have under control. Moreover, attempting to override the current persona model—you—with another one would make the two models clash, which could cause Arahabaki to go out of control. And we’d prefer not to have another research facility blown up.”
N snorted at his own joke so quietly that no one else heard. But his smirk immediately evaporated.
“That’s why we’ve come up with this.”
He then turned a knob on his remote control, and a heavy current immediately ran down the chains and into the stakes piercing Chuuya’s wounds.
He howled in extreme agony; it felt as if his entire body were being ripped apart. He twisted and turned to escape from the pain, but the barbed wire around his wrists only dug deeper into his flesh, causing him to bleed even more.
“We’re going to make you willingly release Arahabaki. You don’t need to think too much about it, though. All you have to do is recite the control incantation. It’s the authentication code that initializes the seal. After that, we’ll be able to input your character set, and once we confirm the control incantation, we’ll delete you and override your personality with a different one. You’ll finally be freed from all pain, including the pain you’re experiencing now, which could go on for who knows how many days… That—and the never-ending darkness you’ve inhabited for years.”
Never-ending darkness. That was the first phrase Chuuya reacted to. He hadn’t responded to anything said to him up until then, and yet those words made his neck twitch. That change did not go unnoticed by N, either.
“You’re going to repeat the following phrase. You can say it in your head if you want. It’s a simple phrase,” N told him before closing his eyes to monotonously recite the authentication code he knew by heart. It was a simple couplet.
“O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again…” “”O grantors of dark disgrace…’”
Chuuya’s lips moved almost automatically. The drugs were taking effect, and his eyes were having trouble staying focused. They were the eyes of someone who didn’t know what he was saying. The movement of his mouth and trembling of his throat were completely involuntary.
“Good,” muttered N with a faint smirk.
“”Do not wake………,’” Chuuya continued. “Who…am I…?”
His words listlessly fell to the floor before spreading out and cooling the room.
N frowned in disgust at the monitor. “Increase the voltage,” he ordered, never taking his eyes off the screen.
“But…” “Do it!”
A heavy current was subsequently sent into Chuuya’s body through the stakes. An amorphous electric snake rampaged through his organs, nerves, and muscles. Chuuya howled.
My rotating saw severed the lock shaft on the door, which finally brought an end to the unpleasant sound. The saw attached to my hand had distorted due to the heat. I was not going to be able to use it again, so I decided to discard it there.
I could finally escape, but I could not abandon Shirase, who was unconscious. As an android programmed to protect humans, I did not have the option of leaving a defenseless human somewhere dangerous, regardless of the circumstances. I had to bring Shirase to a safe location before I could search for Master Chuuya.
I reached out to open the sliding door with its severed lock, but there was no need…because the door was suddenly blown away, along with me as well.
The floor was above my head, then under my feet, and then above my head once more. As I tumbled backward, I felt a strong concentration of stress in my shoulder and head. An impact had knocked me back. I had been shot.
My main priority was getting back to my feet, followed by scanning the environment with my sensor. It picked up three enemies—heavily armed soldiers. That was no surprise, considering that this was a military facility. They must have blown the door up with an explosive before rushing inside.
I analyzed where I was shot and discovered a spiral fissure in my exodermal armor. This was not good. I had been hit with a full metal jacket bullet.
Softer bullets are typically used in battles against other humans because they get lodged in their bodies and cause greater damage. However, seeing as these bullets prioritized speed and penetrating power, the enemy must have come prepared to go into battle with an inorganic target like me. This was extremely unfavorable.
My vision stabilized, which allowed me to see the door, but the three soldiers were already aiming their weapons at me. A storm of bullets was coming my way with such high precision that it would not be possible to evade.
A heart was beating. It was painfully loud, as if someone was pounding a large drum right next to his ear. Chuuya Nakahara looked in the direction of the noise, but of course, there was no heart there.
Whose heartbeat is it, then? Mine? That’s absurd. I’m not even human.
Something as sophisticated as a heart wouldn’t suit me.
Another electric current sent Chuuya’s body into convulsions whether he resisted or not. It felt as if each blood vessel were being chopped into thousands of pieces and his body fluids were being boiled until nothing remained. This was far beyond the kind of pain a sixteen-year-old boy like him could endure. The only silver lining was that nobody cared how much he screamed or wailed. That was why Chuuya yelled every time he felt pain; he could taste the blood in his throat.
He hadn’t heard from N for some time. Researchers despised unproductive labor. He must have wanted to let Chuuya suffer alone in silence for a while.
Chuuya’s skill hadn’t completely disappeared, but it was extremely weak. They must have been constantly pumping poison into his body through the tubes in his back. His limbs were numb, and his head was in a daze. He could no longer tell what he was physically doing in reality versus what was just in his head. And he was being injected with other drugs as well. Some sort of truth serum or hallucinogen.
Who knew how much longer he could take it?
Obviously, I’m gonna never gonna give in. I can keep this up forever. But for what purpose?
“I told you, Chuuya.”
He looked up in the direction of the sudden voice. It was a familiar voice, one that belonged to the person he hated most in this world.
“Your birth itself was a mistake. We’re the same. Is there really a point to suffering through all that pain for a life that isn’t even real?”
The voice was taunting him.
“Shut up,” Chuuya spat, but even he knew he was talking to himself. He was most likely hearing things due to the drugs he was given. There was nobody there, but his mind was scattered, and the voice wouldn’t stop.
“Screw you, Dazai.”
“That’s the best comeback you could come up with?”
Chuuya wanted nothing more than to slice off the ear the voice was whispering into. He could see Dazai’s wavering shadow by his side, and he wanted to gouge out his eyes.
“That’s just proof that you at least somewhat believe what I’m saying.
Because deep down inside, you’re the same as me.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up! I’m me! I’m not some piece of shit like you!”
“I figured you’d say that to him.”
Another voice, this one deeper than the last, suddenly grabbed Chuuya’s heart, freezing it over.
“But you can’t keep lying to yourself forever. Didn’t I tell you that when I welcomed you into our group?”
Chuuya looked at the individual. This was what convinced him that he was hallucinating because of the drugs.
“Piano Man…”
Chuuya’s voice was hoarse. A drop of sweat ran down his chin and fell to the floor.
Piano Man was leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, languidly looking this way. It was just like how he always stood against the wall at the pool hall. Chuuya couldn’t possibly forget.
“I told you why I let you into the group, right? It was because I was worried you might start a rebellion against the organization. You looked like you wanted to destroy everything in your path, burn it all to the ground in revenge. Still do.”
Shadows began to walk through the wall past the worried Piano Man’s side: Albatross, Iceman, Lippmann, and Doc. They smiled and spoke to Chuuya as well.
“We all died ’cause of how unique you are. But we don’t hate ya for it,” said Albatross.
“We were all members of the Mafia. We knew we could die at any moment,” said Lippmann.
“Don’t be stupid! I…!”
Their smiles faded, and the next voice whispered right into Chuuya’s ear.
“So just die already.”
When Chuuya immediately turned around, alarmed, he saw Shirase’s ghastly pale face staring back at him.
“Atone for what you’ve done to your friends in the Mafia and us Sheep.
Pay for it with your life.”
That was when Chuuya realized the kids from the Sheep—his old friends—were all gathered around him.
Betrayal and separation.
Dozens of children coldly glared at Chuuya.
“Chuuya, you always said you were simply fulfilling the duty of those with power. Was that a lie?”
“I thought you said you’d protect us. Did you forget how we fed you when you were on the verge of starvation? How we protected you?”
Stop.
Chuuya twisted his body and tried to cover his ears, but his arms were still chained to the ceiling.
“Hmph. You’re the king? Yeah, right. All you did was ruin our lives.” “Chuuya, you—”
“Shut up! If you think you can become king, then do it! You can have this power!” Chuuya howled, unable to take it any longer. “To hell with power! If I didn’t have this skill, I’d still be with you guys…!”
Another electric shock. A blinding white light flashed in Chuuya’s mind, and deep within the light, he saw the impossible.
The Sheep never disbanded. They were still a group just like they always had been. Chuuya wasn’t anyone special; he didn’t have a skill, either. He was just a regular member of the group. He wasn’t the king, he had no powers, he wasn’t the center of attention—he was simply a single Sheep among the flock, chatting with his friends.
“I…”
The illusion disappeared, leaving only Chuuya and his wounded body.
And then there was silence.
The next hallucination Chuuya saw was someone’s fingertips.
“Your colleagues and friends all left you. Why do you think that is, my dear brother?”
Chuuya sluggishly lifted his head. He had a good idea of who it was. “You now, huh…?”
“Yes, me. Of course it’s me. I was created in a lab just like you. I’m the perfect person to answer your questions,” the illusion said as he adjusted his black porkpie hat.
“My questions…eh?” Chuuya repeated. “Then tell me this. What did I do wrong? When did I mess things up?”
The hallucination—Verlaine—appeared a touch sad.
“At the very beginning.” His eyes were crystal clear with no lie hidden behind them. “After all, your birth itself was a mistake, just like mine.”
Being born was a mistake.
Chuuya’s fists were trembling.
Is that really okay? Can I just let them get away with it?
“No, they can’t simply get away with it. Of course not. It is time for judgment to begin. They need to be punished.”
“Punished…”
“I’m proud of you for fighting through the pain.” There was even kindness in Verlaine’s voice. “You took responsibility for being powerful. Now it’s time for them to take responsibility for what they did. Make them pay. Only then will it all finally balance out.”
“Ha-ha… Wish I could.” Chuuya’s hollow laughter was directed at himself. “I wanna tear ’em to pieces, but that’s not possible. I can’t get out of here. I’m gonna die in pain and despair.”
“I won’t let you die.”
Verlaine approached Chuuya, then pulled a stake out of him. Chuuya’s eyes flew open. After Verlaine removed all the electrodes, he crushed them with gravity. He ripped the barbed wire off Chuuya’s wrists while pulling out all the tubes in his spine as well.
“I’m going to kill that researcher,” Verlaine said after removing all the restraints, checking Chuuya’s wounds, and getting to his feet. “Just like I originally planned. You’re free to just sit here. But if you want to make the man who ruined your life take responsibility, then…”
Verlaine extended a hand to Chuuya. “Come with me.”
Chuuya quietly stared at the hand as if he were observing something bizarre.
“Why…?”
“I told you when we first met. I came here to save you.”
Verlaine smiled. It didn’t look like the smile of a spy or an assassin. It was the smile of a young man.
“Be angry, Chuuya. Be mad at the unfair hand you were dealt. Be enraged at the researchers who played with your life. That rage will help you take it back. Reclaim your life, Chuuya. It belongs to you. That is, unless you want to spend the rest of it as a guinea pig with a serial number.”
Of course I don’t.
The rage got Chuuya’s blood flowing, which heated his muscles. He stood and took Verlaine’s hand with a viselike grip.
“Let’s go, dear brother.” Verlaine smiled as he held Chuuya upright. “Let’s kill N and get your soul back from this irrational world.”