Tokyo Serial Killer

A week later,

"Berserker—!"

With the boy's shout, a ferocious monster roared as it descended from the sky. Scarlet light streamed from its crimson eyes, and dagger-length claws gleaming with a ghastly pale chill plunged viciously into the fleeing figure below.

Warm blood burst from the wounds, staining the monster's body crimson.

The figure struggled in agony. The sound of bones breaking was like snapped stalks of straw, while flesh and blood flew everywhere. Before such absolute violence, he was as helpless as a newborn infant.

The ravaging continued for several minutes. Only after confirming that the figure had completely stopped breathing did the blood-soaked monster halt. Its bulging muscles gradually shrank, its sharp claws, fangs, and bony protrusions retracting into its body as its nearly three-meter-tall frame returned to that of an ordinary person.

The monster vanished, replaced by a frail young man. He wore gold-rimmed monocle glasses and a faint smile. Dressed in a pitch-black formal suit, with a dark gray waistcoat and snow-white shirt beneath, he appeared to be wearing something fashionable in nineteenth-century Britain.

A thumbnail-sized red gemstone was set into his black cravat, which bore dark gray patterns along its edges. Neatly trimmed golden hair fell beside his ears. If he held a book in his hand, he would have looked no different from a young university professor. No one would have associated this refined young man with the bloodthirsty monster from moments ago.

"Berserker, was it taken care of?"

The black-haired boy ran over from his hiding place, panting heavily. He still held a monocular telescope in his hand. Having never learned visual enhancement magecraft, he could only use it to keep track of the battlefield.

"Yes, easily."

Unlike other Berserkers, only Hyde, the Counter Force side, held the Berserker class. Normally, he appeared as Jekyll, his good side, so he retained his sanity and could communicate normally.

"This guy... was he the target mentioned by the Holy Church?"

The black-haired boy crouched down. The pungent stench of blood made his stomach churn, and the mangled corpse only worsened the feeling.

"Bleurgh—"

Unable to endure it, he ran away and vomited in a corner. His stomach spasmed, and a bitter taste lingered on his tongue—the taste of bile.

After all, just a week ago, he had still been an ordinary high school student, enjoying an utterly ordinary campus life. Those days had completely left him when, out of curiosity, he followed his grandfather's notes and summoned the young man before him.

The Holy Grail War—the source of all this. Even after learning everything, though he could have chosen to withdraw, he still persevered.

Facing mages who acted without restraint, the boy did not consider himself a Hero of Justice. He had persisted for only one reason: to protect this city, to protect Tokyo, where everyone had smiled at him.

"Are you all right, Tatsumiaino?"

Berserker asked softly, then handed him a bottle of water.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Berserker."

Tatsumiaino shook his head with a bitter smile and accepted Berserker's water. He rinsed the residue and bitterness from his mouth, then took a deep breath. As though he had made some kind of resolution, he walked back toward the mangled, incomplete corpse.

I'm sorry.

He silently apologized in his heart. His trembling hands searched over the broken body, turning out every pocket.

"A phone, a wallet, business cards..."

The items from the pockets were laid out on the ground. The surface of the black leather wallet was stained with blood. Tatsumiaino opened it, and the first thing he saw was a family photograph of four. A slightly balding middle-aged man was surrounded by his wife and children, wearing a heartfelt smile.

His lips tightened involuntarily. He tried to pretend he had not seen it and quickly searched through the wallet.

His fingers passed over ten-thousand-yen notes bearing Fukuzawa Yukichi without pausing. At last, in a hidden compartment along the inner lining of the wallet, Tatsumiaino found his target.

—It was an exquisite membership card.

Berserker leaned closer in curiosity. For a membership card, this one was almost excessively elaborate. Flowing Takama-ga-hara lettering reflected a luxurious golden sheen beneath the streetlamp, while openwork carvings formed the waves of The Great Wave off Kanagawa. The entire card felt heavy in the hand. It seemed to be made of pure gold, yet possessed a toughness gold did not have.

"So that bar really is these people's gathering place."

Tatsumiaino let out a breath and tossed the wallet back. Berserker took out a fingertip-sized glass vial from his coat and poured its liquid over the corpse. Azure flames rose up, burning everything to ash—bloodstains and sin alike.

As he watched the man gradually be consumed by flames, his gaze became complicated. Who would have thought that such an ordinary middle-aged man was actually a murderer wanted by the Holy Church?

Thinking of the families that had been destroyed, Tatsumiaino felt increasingly heavy-hearted. Even the joy of completing his mission had faded considerably. Still, he did not regret killing this man. The moment he decided to join the Holy Grail War, he had already prepared himself.

"Let's go, Tatsumiaino."

Berserker patted his shoulder. A villain like that was not worth pitying, no matter what reasons he might have had.

"Yeah."

Tatsumiaino turned around and clenched his fists. In a low voice, he said, "Berserker, tonight, we'll wipe out those people for good. This city has no need for serial killers."

Before a neon sign two stories tall, Tatsumiaino tried his best to keep a straight face. Last time, he had been defeated here and returned empty-handed. The reason was simple: minors were not allowed to drink, and naturally, they were not allowed into bars either.

A stream of people flowed before the door, which was as tall as two people. Attendants in formal wear greeted the passing guests. This was Takama-ga-hara, one of the largest bars in Shinjuku District. Of course, it was not merely a bar. More precisely, it was an integrated entertainment complex.

He gathered his courage and walked toward the entrance. Perhaps a high school student's still-youthful face was too conspicuous among the guests coming and going, because an attendant smilingly stopped Tatsumiaino.

"Please show your identification. Minors are not permitted to drink."

Tatsumiaino's mouth twitched as he heard Berserker's quiet laugh beside him. He took the golden membership card from his pocket and handed it to the attendant.

The attendant took out some kind of device and scanned the surface of the membership card. Numbers appeared beneath a special light.

13

"Since you are an esteemed member, please follow me."

After confirming that the membership card was genuine, the attendant respectfully returned it with both hands. The other attendants bowed in greeting. Under the curious gazes around him, Tatsumiaino hurried inside, though his retreating figure looked more like he was fleeing in panic.

For him, this kind of pressure had come a little too soon.