Chapter 158. Their Treatment (3)

Lien’s clear voice tickled my ear.

Whispered for me alone, it felt different from usual. I narrowed my eyes.

“About my body?”

“Yes. Just you.”

Her blue eyes gleamed close, a silent request to speak without Sirocco.

Made sense.

It was likely about my body, something Sirocco wasn’t aware of.

I nodded. Unsure of specifics, but discussing it privately was best.

Lien wouldn’t bring up trivial matters, especially if tied to my possession.

I turned to Sirocco.

“Sirocco, head to the training hall.”

“Training hall? Sparring already?”

“Yeah, you wanted it.”

She tilted her head, puzzled.

“Hm, but didn’t you say you’d rest? You okay?”

I winced inwardly.

Fair point. I’d just said I was tired, then told her to prep for sparring.

Thinking, I brushed it off.

“Resting’s the plan. But you’d get bored here. Why not warm up there?”

“Hmph, not bad. Alright.”

Silently seeing her off, I rose from the bed. Lien stood, hands clasped, watching.

“You’re getting good at handling her.”

“Somewhat. She’s still free-spirited.”

Sitting on the bed’s edge, I looked up at Lien.

“You seemed wary of her at first.”

“I was. Still am. But…”

She glanced at the door Sirocco left through, replying flatly.

“I saw her at the banquet. She’s a good choice for your safety as a follower family.”

Referring to Sirocco’s bold claim at the banquet? Recent, so vivid.

I shifted to the point.

“So, what’s this about?”

“It might sound abrupt, but answer.”

Likely probing my district antics.

But her question shattered my expectations.

“…Who are you?”

An odd question. I opened my mouth, but no words came. She continued.

“I’ve felt something off about you.”

“…What?”

“Are you sharing some of Enoch’s memories or emotions?”

My eyes widened.

Silence hung.

I didn’t know why she asked, but it was true, based on my experiences.

Staring at my silence, she spoke coldly.

“As I thought.”

“Honestly, it’s possible.”

“Possible?”

“Yeah, not certain.”

I’d felt it—brief moments of unfamiliar actions or emotions.

Like during the Leopold exemption mission, assuming an unknown stance. Or in Pangaeon’s mines.

I’d thought my body remembered sword knowledge…

Was it that simple?

A past event flashed.

Meeting Count Elsyde was strangest.

The intense emotional surge, vividly recalled, defied explanation.

I’d need to inherit Enoch’s past for growth, facing it fully, understanding him better. But these incidents predated that knowledge.

The cause was unclear.

Shaking my head, I asked.

“Why ask?”

“You’re becoming like the old Enoch.”

Silence fell.

I narrowed my eyes.

“Becoming like him?”

“Your habits, speech, personality—all eerily like the Enoch I remember.”

“Just a coincidence? Same body.”

Her cold eyes answered firmly.

“No, I know Enoch better than anyone. I’m sure.”

Her past hesitations watching me made sense.

“Is resembling him a problem?”

“If your state involves black magic, there’ll be side effects. That’s what black magic does.”

She said icily.

“Left unchecked, who knows what’ll happen. Isn’t that logical?”

“You’re checking my condition?”

“Yes. I know little about possession. If odd symptoms arise, tell me. I must know anything about Enoch’s body.”

“I will.”

She nodded, approaching, rolling up my sleeve. Blood-soaked bandages appeared. She spoke quietly.

“As expected, you’re hurt again.”

I marveled inwardly. I’d hidden it, but she noticed. She scolded coldly.

“Why ally if you do this? Where were you?”

“It’s complex, but it was for Enoch’s long-term safety.”

I explained concisely.

She’d sense my sincerity. I didn’t rush into danger for fun. She’d likely understand.

She’d seen my survival struggles from the start.

…Though how much she accepted the necessity was unclear.

I added calmly.

“Not deep wounds. I’ll visit the Holy Residence soon, ask Amelia. Non-lethal, so recoverable.”

“…”

She stared at my arm silently, then shook her head.

“I’ll rebandage it.”

Unwinding April’s bandage, she calmly rewrapped it. I watched expressionlessly.

Even without the Holy Residence, my arm would heal soon.

And the incident I’d need to address was likely starting in the 19th district.

***

The outpost’s night was dull.

Carrying a heavy assault rifle gear for hours, even duty couldn’t sustain focus.

Trudging, boots grinding dirt, Officer Aaron Davenport, assigned to the district, patrolled.

Losing at poker with seniors, he’d been stuck with their patrol routes for two days.

His dying flashlight flickered. Angrily smacking it, it flared back on. He scanned around.

Victoria Kazimieśi’s 19th district.

His patrol was the boundary between civilization and wilderness.

To the right, a forest stretched into darkness.

To the left, a sturdy metal wall marked the city’s edge.

“…”

He eyed the wall skeptically.

Meant to protect citizens from beasts, but who felt ‘protected’ here?

It felt like a cage.

The empire shoved outcasts here, where they preyed on each other. The wall encircled that society.

A night breeze brought a eerie whoosh, the forest’s green sea rippling.

Trees were huge, but this border forest’s were abnormally so—dozens of times taller, trunks impossibly thick. At night, they loomed oppressively.

Rumor said an ancient kingdom existed here before the empire. Treasure hunters spoke of it.

Just a forest now. No time for relics when lunch was a worry.

A lit checkpoint appeared ahead.

“I’m done. No issues—”

Something flashed past the checkpoint’s window.

Recognizing it, his sweat turned cold.

Moments ago, patrol heat plagued him; now, icy dread.

He nearly cursed.

“W-What? What?”

What was that creature?

Snapping back, he rushed the checkpoint, bursting in.

Human-shaped beasts surrounded fallen officers.

Black carapaces glowed green. Despair froze Aaron’s spine.

One beast stabbed a spiked appendage into an unconscious colleague.

A gurgling sound followed as green liquid injected, like a syringe.

The officer’s body swelled, skin inverting, beastifying.

Beasts infecting humans?

Shock paralyzed him, but one action was clear.

“Get away from my team!!”

Furious, he drew his pistol, firing repeatedly. Muzzle flashes and gunfire pounded his eardrums.

Crouching, he advanced, 9mm rounds glowing with mana, streaking like tracers.

Beasts’ shoulders jerked, half a face shattered.

More followed. Mana-infused bullets triggered rotating magic circles, igniting flames across the beasts’ bodies.

Dry leaves and wooden walls caught fire.

[Flame Chain]

Rank 17, but potent.

Yet a beast staggered, then steadied.

Its head regenerated. Aaron froze. Healing despite that?

How could he—

The beast’s mouth gaped, revealing sharp teeth and a mocking black throat.

Despair sent cold sweat down his back.

Other officers? Where were they?

Frantically scanning, he saw no teammates in the flaming room. Only more human-shaped beasts, closing in.

Realization hit.

These were the beasts reported this morning.

A few had appeared, killing skilled freelancers despite their small numbers.

Silence enveloped the area.

No teammates remained. Aaron was the only human left.

What to do?

Simulating options, clarity emerged in despair.

This rotten district was his to protect.

Becoming a beast, harming colleagues or citizens, was unthinkable.

His trembling hand checked the pistol’s slide, counting shots.

Twelve fired.

One round left.

He raised the gun to his chin, ensuring a headshot.

Casting his final spell, he poured mana into a self-destruct spell, the muzzle glowing red.

Closing his eyes, finger twitching, he hoped someone would face these beasts next.

Save us.

What’s happening to this city?

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