When Mulan returned home, the state he was in nearly scared Old Buck and Leo out of their wits. Learning that he had fought the Mad Killer and ultimately killed him only left them more shaken by what might have happened.
Afterward, Leo kept asking Mulan for every detail of the fight. He and Old Buck listened, picturing the scenes in their minds and fearing for Mulan again and again.
Still, however shaken or frightened they were, it was all over. The Jonester Household could finally sleep soundly. Of course, if anyone was going to sleep best that night, it would certainly be the chief inspector of the Valentine Police Department.
The chief inspector had come up with all sorts of plans, preparing to launch a major manhunt once the storm passed. Even if they failed to catch the killer, they would at least have to put on a convincing show. He had never expected the Mad Killer to meet his end before the storm was even over.
Well, although it hadn't been a police officer from the Valentin Police Department who had done the deed, Mulan Jonester was Detective Leo Jonester's younger brother. Surely it wasn't too much of a stretch to call it a joint operation with the Valentine Police Department?
That night, Mulan had another nightmare. In the dream, he was still chasing the Mad Killer...
"Mulan Jonester, you and I are the same kind of person..."
A crazed voice came from the dimly lit house. Breathing hard, Mulan held his gun and pressed himself against the wall outside the door. His heartbeat became especially distinct at that moment, and he seemed able to sense the Mad Killer's emotions and mental state.
Cruel and insane, almost beyond reason, yet his body also held tremendous strength.
That sense of resonance with the madness grew stronger and stronger. Mulan even felt as though he were the one standing inside with a knife!
As that thought crossed his mind, Mulan's perceptions began to blur. He shook his head and opened his eyes. As his vision sharpened, he discovered, to his horror, that he really was holding a knife-a sharp Boning Knife-and that his left arm was locked around a woman's throat.
Mulan froze. He seemed to feel two sets of emotions within him as he watched the woman cry and saw the terror on her face. One was shock and sympathy, while the other was madness and excitement. His right hand instinctively swept toward the woman's neck.
But in the next instant, Mulan stopped his right hand, then shoved the woman away.
The woman ran off screaming. A figure suddenly appeared in the doorway, raised a gun, and fired into the room.
Bang, bang, bang...
The muzzle erupted with brilliant, blinding flashes. Almost instinctively, Mulan twisted into an incredible evasive maneuver, then fled up to the attic.
An ambush, trembling, wounds piled upon wounds, and finally a bullet that brought him down...
The course of events was very different, but the outcome was exactly the same.
After experiencing the terrifyingly real fear and fierce madness of the moment he was shot, Mulan did not feel dead. Instead, he seemed to be lying quietly on the floor.
Everything else in his field of vision had blurred, yet something like smoke was growing thicker.
Gradually, the attic became clear again, but now it looked utterly dilapidated. The people around him were gone, yet countless ghostly shapes seemed to lurk in the distance. Night had fallen early-or perhaps the sky had always been boundlessly dark.
The ruined attic was no longer intact. Half the roof had rotted away completely, leaving a gaping hole. Mulan lay motionless, his eyes wide with terror.
On the roof outside the attic crouched a twisted monster. He could make out claws, fangs, and a tail, but its entire body was covered in human torsos and exposed organs. It watched Mulan and reached a claw toward him. The closer that claw came, the stronger his terror grew, and the more confused and agonized his mind became...
"Aah-!"
Mulan jolted violently and woke in bed. Gasping for breath, he raised a hand to wipe his face and found it drenched in sweat.
"Hah, hah, hah..."
Damn it, what kind of absurd nightmare was that?
This dream had been more terrifying than the previous ones, and he remembered it more clearly. No, he hadn't forgotten a single thing. Mulan could even recall the killer's feeling of drifting between madness and excitement, and there was no way he could forget that twisted monster at the end.
What was that? Was I seeing the otherworld? Did that maniac's soul see the same thing after he died?
Mulan's mind was full of questions, and his heart still pounded with dread. Only after several minutes did he gradually calm down. He tried to relax and think of something pleasant. That was what he had done during the brutal war, and what he had taught the soldiers under his command to do as well.
"Looks like it's time to go find Good Head again."
The next day, as though heaven had finally shown mercy, the wind and rain eased considerably, making it easier for Valentine's residents to get around. Newsboys, absent for some time, eagerly put on their rain gear and hurried through the city, excitedly selling freshly printed newspapers. They knew which stories would interest the public and help the papers sell much faster, and they were excited by the news themselves.
"Valentine Daily! Valentine Daily! Retired Second Lieutenant Mulan Jonester pursued and dueled the Mad Killer! The Mad Killer who terrorized Valentine has been slain! Valentine Daily! Valentine Daily! Fresh off the press! Wonderful news!"
The newsboys picked their way along the drier stretches of street, wading through water when they had no choice. Wherever they went, anyone who could afford it came forward to buy a paper.
One newsboy walked along humming, his cloth bag hanging light on his back.
"Valentine Daily! Only one copy left! Hurry if you want it!"
The newsboy waved the newspaper in his hand. The drizzle had already dampened it a little, but he wasn't at all worried that it wouldn't sell. Sure enough, shortly after he took it out and began waving it, someone stopped him at a street corner.
"I'll take a copy."
"Certainly, sir! This is the last one. I only just took it out, so it's only got a little rain on it!"
"I don't mind."
As he spoke, the man buying the paper took out a coin and handed it to the boy. The boy happily accepted it, then took out some smaller coins for change. As he handed them over, he finally got a clear look at his customer. He froze, his face lighting up with disbelief and excitement.
"Y-you're Second Lieutenant Jonester!"
Holding an umbrella, Mulan had already unfolded the newspaper. He smiled and nodded at the boy before walking on. His gaze returned to the paper, where a photograph occupied the most prominent spot beneath the front-page headline.
A young man in a raincoat and military boots was walking out of a somewhat dim building, while all the Valentine police officers around him stood back to either side.
He had to admit that the reporter had managed to capture an excellent shot with such a rudimentary camera. Well, the main thing was that it made Mulan look very cool-so cool that even he, the subject of the photograph, wanted to give the reporter a thumbs-up.