Five minutes later, on the car GORCC had hastily summoned from the nearest contact point.
Boom!
Faust plopped down into the back seat and slammed the door shut. He had just straightened the hem of his trench coat when he noticed Ode, seated beside him, subtly scooting his rear end away to put some distance between them. “…What, do I have a virus or something?”
Ode had no idea about any viruses, but he was certain there was plenty of yellow waste. That was what crossed his mind, even as he returned a polite smile. “Of course not. I just wanted to know how you all plan to handle that Gatling gun.”
“Naturally, we’ll take it back along with all the townsfolk for contamination checks,” Faust replied. He rummaged around in his coat pocket for a moment before pulling out a leather wristband. Its silver clasp gleamed against the matte black leather. “Hey, give me your hand.”
“…” Ode pressed his arm tight against the car door. He calmly reminded himself that after fighting side by side so many times, Faust probably wasn’t the type to slap some kinky toy onto someone’s wrist the moment they met—though the man did have a pretty filthy mouth. “I’m wondering why we can’t just use the same method you arrived in to get back to base.”
Ode’s hand, hidden behind his back, began stealthily groping backward in search of a handy weapon. In the end, he grabbed hold of the backseat seatbelt.
“That’s only for when we’re rushing out on a mission. We’re not in a hurry now, so why bother?” Faust started inching toward Ode. In just a couple of shifts, his butt crossed the centerline of the seat. “Would you sprint eight hundred meters back to the office after a business trip? Come on, give me your hand. Why are you sitting so prim and proper? Here—”
Thud!!
The black Jaguar shook from the tussle inside.
In the back seat, Faust was sprawled over Ode like some shameless ivy vine climbing a wall. Ode’s hand gripped the backseat seatbelt in a death clutch.
At that moment, the sturdy strap was twisted around Faust’s neck, choking him until his face flushed red. His hands clawed desperately at it. “You… let… go…”
Click! The driver’s door swung open.
The two tangled men in the back simultaneously glanced forward. An utterly ordinary middle-aged driver with no memorable features leaned into the car. He glanced at the brawl in the back seat, then settled into the driver’s position with perfect calm, closed the door, and buckled up.
“…” Ode tightened his grip even more, gritting his teeth into a smile. “You do this kind of thing often?”
Just look at how unfazed the driver was!
“Ju… just joking…” Faust shakily raised the hand holding the leather wristband. “Watch… a magic trick!”
The broad matte leather band unraveled like burning parchment, the illusion burning away in sparks to reveal its true form.
Ode’s murdering hand paused. He looked up, somewhat stunned. “A watch?”
“It’s yours… right?” Faust frantically slapped at the seatbelt around his neck, gesturing for Ode to let go. “Huff… The innkeeper back in town asked me to pass it on to you. She said you saved the lives of everyone in town, including hers, so she’s refunding your room fee.”
“…” Ode released his grip and took the watch from Faust’s hand. “Thanks… But why the hell did you have to do a good deed like that?”
“Because I felt like it.” Faust rubbed his neck. Only after watching Ode carefully strap the watch back onto his wrist did he add casually, “Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention—I added a tracking function to it. You don’t mind, do you?”
He feigned a sigh. “Ah, even if you do, it’s too late now. It’s already on. If you take it off, the three of us might as well go down together—three tragic lovebirds.”
Ode froze mid-adjustment. “…”
Three minutes later, the Jaguar’s back seat had one fewer impeccably dressed gentleman and one more guy stripped down to his underwear, wrapped head to toe in black seatbelts like a mummy.
The driver remained utterly blasé, unconcerned with whatever his boss had done or suffered. He simply drove on.
Ode rubbed his wrist, twisted during the fight. Beside him, Faust wriggled on the seat like a pupating moth in its cocoon until he finally straightened up with a heave. “You say we’re such good buddies, but you clearly don’t know my style at all.”
What style? Consistently punchable? Ode dragged the conversation back on track with numb serenity. “I trust you… GORCC.”
The trust was so hard to voice that Ode halfway through switched targets. “So I won’t take off the watch. Knowing you have my location makes me feel a bit more secure.”
“But I need to know—how will GORCC handle the townsfolk next? Can you cure Lola?”
“—You don’t even know that?” Beneath Faust’s seemingly flippant suspicion lurked a cool scrutiny. “Were we really partners?”
“No rule says you have to remember every detail from a past life in this one. My memories are incomplete.” Ode casually shifted his foot, pinning the trailing end of the “mummy” bindings to the floor. It yanked the squirming, self-rescuing Faust flat on his face again. “Do you still want to hear what really happened in Dreamcatcher Town, or are you going to keep screwing around?”
“Fine, fine…” Faust grumbled as he sat back up. “It’s a bit tricky, actually. Not the treatment—that little girl’s contamination can be blasted away with a burst from the Tindalos Hunting Rifle. The real issue is resettlement. You can’t just release a whole group of people back into society like that, right?”
Faust spoke in a chummy, rambling tone, but his arms—bound inside the cocoon—extended naturally forward. The sturdy seatbelts snapped apart like fragile spider silk, revealing his lean frame.
He clearly wasn’t the brawny type. Otherwise, how could Ode have swollen one of his eyes days ago in the office, or taken him down so easily today after just three days of intense training?
But underestimating his strength would be foolish.
If Faust weren’t strong enough, why would he feel that instant desire for Ode every time they met? Even Dagon wouldn’t react so immediately. And that earlier mess had clearly included a probe.
Faust didn’t care about his state of undress. He stretched out comfortably and somehow produced a cigar from nowhere.
He pinched the tip of his left index finger, and a crimson ember appeared at the cigar’s end—Ode noted the golden ornament on Faust’s left index and thumb, likely the medium for his alchemy. “Nothing to worry about. Resettling victims like this is one of GORCC’s core duties.”
“More importantly, tell me about your experience. I’m dying to know how this whole town survived under The Colour Out of Space and Dagon… and what you mean by ‘this isn’t our first meeting.'”
Smoke once again filled the cabin, but this time it carried no harsh bite—only the soft notes of lavender and rosemary, dizzying to the senses. Ode noticed the driver raising the partition between front and back seats.
The smoke doubtless carried some truth-serum effect to loosen tongues, but since Ode needed Faust’s trust anyway, he didn’t object. Over the rest of the drive, he recounted everything that had happened in those three days.
“…” Faust’s expression, shrouded in the haze, grew profoundly subtle.
The Jaguar pulled up in front of Grauray Church. When the driver opened the door for him, Faust remained seated, slowly exhaling a plume of smoke.
“I had my doubts about how you kept all these liabilities alive under Dagon and The Colour Out of Space… Then you tell me that besides them, this town also had a Deep One Outpost, the Church of Kolon Sovereign, the Children of the Dust, Quachil Uttaus… and what else? That nameless black-gray mud mountain, and at least three mysterious voices helping you out?”
“And you saved Dreamcatcher Town by devouring enough of that motley crew to fill your belly seven times over?”
Faust let out a scoff, devoid of mockery—pure, rational calm. “I’m convinced you’re no cultist; no fanatic could concoct something this absurd. But do you get it?”
Faust suddenly leaned in close to Ode, voice dropping low. “That little girl you’re so worried about? She just got a taste of Deep One flesh—maybe swallowed a bit by accident—and look at the changes. You’ve eaten hordes of monsters, yet your face is still as clean and pale as ever?”
Faust locked eyes on Ode, scrutinizing every flicker of expression. “No human could pull that off.”
“Are you human?”
“Or after these three days… are you still human?”
Outside the car, the driver stood with head bowed, his absolute obedience to Faust utterly unshaken by his boss’s earlier antics.
Ode’s eyelashes trembled faintly. “That’s why I’m going to GORCC with the townsfolk.”
“I know Eva’s lab has more precise testing equipment. I need answers.”
Silence fell over the car.
A moment later, Faust straightened up. His clothes materialized from sparks, wrapping from ankles to throat. He flashed his lazy grin and tapped the door. “What are we waiting for? Oh, allow me to get that for you—”
Ode ignored the flamboyantly leaning Faust, pushed the door open himself, got out, and followed quietly behind him into the outpost hidden beneath the cemetery.
It was a long path, sloping steadily downward into darkness.
“Why’d you go quiet?” Faust’s chatter hadn’t stopped the whole way—mostly barking orders via phone to his subordinates still in Dreamcatcher Town. Too many things even Ode couldn’t explain; they’d need on-site investigation to piece together. “Are you—nervous?”
Faust eyed the silent Ode with keen interest. “You know—plenty of people would pay fortunes, even bankrupt themselves, just to become monsters. Humans are just too frail, whether in raw strength or our pitiful lifespans.”
They halted before the frosted glass door marked Laboratory 1. Faust gallantly held it open. Ode paused for a beat before stepping inside. “Look at this face of mine. I can guarantee I’m not one of them.”
“…” Faust paused at the heavier tone in Ode’s voice, then resumed, casually waving to the blonde woman at the desk. “Eva! We’ve got a special guest… Oh, don’t give me that ‘too lazy to look up’ face. I promise you, he’s worth rolling out the red carpet for.”
If he hadn’t been so genuinely tense, Ode would have spent more time taking in Eva’s face—far more vivid than in his fragmented memories.
But his mind was entirely consumed by another question, to the point that even after Eva had finished drawing his blood and guided him into the massive capsule chamber, he still lay on the cold, hard bed inside, lost in a trance as he obsessively mulled over this long-buried doubt:
Faust had said his so-called “charm” could inflict mental pollution on humans.
His parents, his grandfather—they had all died in fits of madness.
…Had they died because of him?
Had he been the one who killed his own family?
Ode closed his eyes. The suspicion had grown sharper with every passing day since he had entered this bizarre new world. It drove him to fight without rest, day and night, and it stirred in him an urge to run away.
