Chapter 38
How should a person react upon waking up in an unfamiliar environment?
Asuka Kazuya stood on the black lake, coldly watching himself isolated in a glass room.
“Out of control,” “dispose of him”—the people outside the glass kept screaming these words. Then the scene changed, showing the black-haired man constantly urging Paul Verlaine to act.
[But Kazuya is still there.]
[There’s no time left, the army is coming–]
[Didn’t you say it yourself, Rimbaud?]
[What?]
[Even if they leave the research facility, they will still have their own consciousness. I’ve changed my mind, I won’t hand them over to France, nor will I return them to any organization.]
That was the young Paul Verlaine, carrying the sleeping Nakahara Chuuya on his shoulder, raising his eyes in the shadow-covered alley.
The young man pointed his cold gun at Rimbaud.
[Sorry,]
He said.
[I’ve already decided to do this.]
A huge amount of information flooded Asuka Kazuya’s brain. His clothes were soaked with cold sweat as he opened his eyes on the soft bed.
Verlaine’s clothes were several sizes too big for him. Asuka Kazuya adjusted his breathing, calming down and finding that the wounds on his hands had already healed.
…What happened?
He couldn’t help but think.
Verlaine choked Chuuya. Then came the Flags, their abilities easily suppressed by Verlaine, pinned to the ground by gravity.
Asuka Kazuya’s consciousness was blurry, he only remembered picking up the gun from the ground, pointing it at himself, trying to regain his clarity.
Thinking of this, the young man silently lifted his clothes.
He was wrapped in white bandages, clearly having been carefully changed several times.
“…Where are they?”
Asuka Kazuya turned his head, speaking to the shadow in the corner, his voice emotionless.
“Why did you do this to them?”
Verlaine stood up, leisurely dusting himself off. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, but after taking a step forward, his figure was exposed to the sunlight.
“I’ll tell you if you withdraw the ability you left in them,” Verlaine replied, his eyes still calm. “They are the reason you and Chuuya want to stay in Japan, aren’t they? I still have a lot to do, Kazuya, don’t waste time.”
The Flags, a certain detective who had contact with Chuuya, even the entire Port Mafia and the Special Abilities Division—
Verlaine had many assassination targets, originally planning to finish within a few days.
He didn’t expect to find Asuka Kazuya, who should have been dead, here, so he was delayed.
Asuka Kazuya threw the pillow at him, saying ruthlessly: “You’re the one wasting time, appearing out of nowhere, even trying to kill everyone I’ve had contact with, why don’t you see a psychiatrist?”
Verlaine tilted his head, dodging his useless attack.
He sighed again, taking a step forward as if compromising.
“Ugh,”
The person pressed against the bed groaned in pain. Verlaine deliberately pressed on the wound on his abdomen, applying a little force.
“We’ve already repeated this conversation many times.” Verlaine lowered his head, saying in disappointment, “Release the ability, although I have other methods, that would violate our initial agreement.”
Asuka Kazuya gritted his teeth, trying to pull away Verlaine’s hand, but obviously failing—the more force he exerted, the stronger Verlaine’s ability became.
This top-tier assassin, who could assassinate the Queen during her coronation, clearly didn’t take his resistance seriously.
Asuka Kazuya immediately realized that the other method he mentioned was Dazai.
“Don’t even think about it,”
The young man’s golden hair was disheveled. Although his face was pale, his mouth was still stubbornly unrelenting.
“I’ll curse you to be hit by a cannonball as soon as you go out, just you wait, although I can’t beat you, I can still make you so unlucky that you can’t find your way.”
Verlaine had a slight headache.
The Asuka Kazuya in his memory wasn’t this rebellious. On the contrary, he was a very considerate child, only liking him and Rimbaud, only showing kindness to him and Rimbaud.
Even Chuuya came later. After learning about his purpose in existence, Asuka Kazuya swore to protect his newly born family.
Verlaine remained expressionless, blaming everything on the organization that took Kazuya later.
The Sheep, the Special Abilities Division, the Crows.
“So what if I can’t find my way?”
Verlaine replied indifferently.
“I can just destroy everything nearby.”
As he said this, he increased the force in his hand, showing no mercy even to his younger brother.
The pain from his abdomen intensified. Until blood seeped onto the white bandages, Asuka Kazuya struggled to bend his knees, kicking Verlaine ruthlessly.
It had no effect.
Verlaine was someone who could withstand Nakahara Chuuya’s full-powered punches unscathed, this little force was nothing more than his younger brother’s tantrum in his eyes.
“I’ll bring you dinner.” Estimating that the lesson was enough, Verlaine released his hand and stood up. “Chuuya might be willing to go back with us in a few days, don’t try to escape.”
Who’s going with you willingly?!
Asuka Kazuya, not understanding why he was so unlucky, cursed him under his breath.
“Don’t you have anything else to do?” He clutched his stomach, looking up and asking, “Transcendentalists are respected everywhere, why don’t you go play with your friends?”
Verlaine thought for a moment, realizing he didn’t have such a thing as friends.
He himself was only a being derived from a string of code. Long ago, only Rimbaud would persistently tell him that he had become human.
But even Rimbaud didn’t seem to understand, that persistence was useless.
“Is this why you like making friends?” Verlaine asked him, trying to use a gentle tone. “I also heard about you randomly recognizing older brothers, there’s no need for that now, right?”
Unlike his previous smile, this was a smile that hid killing intent and displeasure.
Asuka Kazuya was certain that if he really withdrew his ability, Verlaine would kill everyone without hesitation.
He narrowed his eyes, replying to Verlaine: “Dazai told me this emotion is called jealousy.”
“Is that so?” Verlaine’s gaze slowly swept over him, then he chuckled.
“Just like watching you play house, Kazuya, that’s not jealousy.”
Asuka Kazuya threw the last pillow at his face.
“I don’t understand,” he recalled Bourbon’s words, “because this can also be used,” speaking before Verlaine walked out the door. “Would an older brother let me starve to death?”
The steady footsteps stopped. Verlaine stood by the door, one foot already outside, but upon hearing this, he retracted it.
As a former intelligence officer, Verlaine saw through Asuka Kazuya’s thoughts at a glance. However, the term “older brother” was very pleasing to him, even more so in Japanese.
However, even so, Verlaine remained calm, reminding him elegantly: “It would take three days of fasting for you to starve to death, I’ve already injected you with nutrients while you were asleep.”
“As for your childhood experiences, I visited the Special Abilities Division before seeing you, it’s basic courtesy.”
Although he twisted that person’s head 360 degrees after asking, Verlaine didn’t remember his name, and even destroyed their computers after he was done.
Asuka Kazuya was speechless.
It was always Asuka Kazuya who angered others, rarely the other way around.
He took a deep breath, releasing his grip on his wound, barely maintaining his composure.
“One last question.”
Asuka Kazuya stared into Verlaine’s eyes, speaking slowly, trying to piece together the fragmented memories in his dream.
“Arthur Rimbaud.”
“Is he still alive?”
In the following days, Verlaine deeply realized the pain of having his once obedient younger brother corrupted.
Either digging tunnels or breaking locks to climb water pipes, every time Verlaine was about to assassinate some unlucky person, he would receive an alert that the alarm had been triggered. Asuka Kazuya’s reason for this was that he was bored, unless he returned his electronic devices, or took him along on his next assassination.
Verlaine remained unmoved, simply knocking him unconscious before going out every time.
Then this would result in a series of protests from Asuka Kazuya. Verlaine didn’t mind, always sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, listening to him finish cursing, then turning off the lights and watching him sleep.
It was worth mentioning that Kazuya’s assassination techniques had improved considerably recently. Although Asuka Kazuya wasn’t happy when Verlaine said this, even attempting to slit his throat with a knife.
“You want me to remove the ability I left in them? Certainly.” Inside a shipping container at the junkyard, Dazai Osamu sat in a swivel chair, seemingly anticipating Verlaine’s arrival, a calm expression on his slightly childish face. “But why should I do that? Kazuya isn’t a Port Mafia member.”
Bored.
A few days ago, when Verlaine was about to assassinate Dazai Osamu, the latter gave this answer.
Dazai Osamu gave Verlaine the classified information of every Port Mafia member, and as a sign of respect, Verlaine decided to put assassinating Dazai last on his list.
“There’s something you haven’t told me,” Verlaine said.
He avoided the swaying lightbulb, walking closer to Dazai Osamu.
“I saw his old files in the Special Abilities Division, why did they know his identity from the beginning?”
This was exactly the same question as Chuuya’s.
Dazai Osamu’s expression didn’t change. He observed Verlaine’s every move, finally saying softly,
“So what if they did?”
“Didn’t you think Kazuya was dead long ago?”
This was a question even Verlaine couldn’t answer, just like how he couldn’t answer Kazuya’s questions about Rimbaud.
Nakahara Chuuya had come looking for him many times these past two days, but Verlaine’s clothes weren’t even dirty after several fights.
Nakahara Chuuya’s punches were weak.
Kazuya’s were even worse.
They both looked like they hadn’t been eating properly.
That day at the Special Abilities Division, Verlaine, shrouded in darkness, listened to the stories of his younger brothers’ childhood in the slums.
It was synonymous with poverty and filth, and it was also the place where Rimbaud’s attempt to absorb Arahabaki failed and caused an explosion.
He should have guessed they would be there sooner.
“As an older brother, I’m very worried,” Verlaine said regretfully. “Constantly knocking him unconscious will damage his body, and if I take him with me, he’ll always try to stop me.”
Dazai Osamu propped his chin: “It would be strange if he didn’t stop you.”
“Speaking of which, I’m quite curious, even if you successfully take Chuuya and Kazuya away, where can you take them?”
“A place no one can find,”
Verlaine said.
“I’ll raise them there.”
Dazai Osamu blinked, laughing at this statement.
He wasn’t mocking Verlaine’s naivety, nor was he correcting him that there was no such place in the world.
Dazai Osamu only corrected him: “The Flags members are still in the hospital, even if you don’t continue your mission, they’ll die automatically when Kazuya’s ability can no longer sustain them.”
Verlaine thought it made sense, although it would slow him down.
As for his next assassination target…
Verlaine was silent, not revealing his plan to Dazai Osamu.
“Why does Kazuya think those police officers are his older brothers?” Verlaine recalled seeing Bourbon and Scotch a few days ago. “They’re just ordinary people, he wouldn’t even talk to anyone besides us when he was young.”
“Do I look like a relationship expert?”
Dazai Osamu tilted his head, replying puzzledly.
“Besides, he was probably just saying that randomly, he not only randomly recognizes older brothers, but also randomly recognizes fathers.”
Verlaine: “…”
Dazai Osamu: “If I had to say, it’s probably because only you and Randou-kun played with him before, and now it’s just a different group of people.”
Verlaine seemed to understand, deciding to buy some toys for his device-deprived younger brother on his way back.
But then again, the alarm trigger time was a bit longer this time.
Kazuya wasn’t the type to give up so quickly, he must have found a place without alarms.
Verlaine adjusted the brim of his hat, bidding farewell to Dazai Osamu politely.
Bread and water, this was the standard meal.
Besides that, there were also some snacks. Verlaine walked slowly, repelling the attack of a certain detective chasing him from Europe without looking back, successfully concealing his figure.
It seemed that just making the plane crash wasn’t enough.
He should have killed them in Europe from the beginning.
Thinking this, Verlaine opened the apartment door.
Perhaps because he didn’t intend to stay long, the apartment was sparsely furnished. Verlaine glanced around, not seeing Asuka Kazuya.
He placed the shopping bag at the entrance, first checking the bathroom where the faucet was running, then walking deeper inside.
The young man sat cross-legged on the carpet with his back to him, water still dripping from his hair.
Asuka Kazuya was covered with a blanket, still wearing that white shirt. He heard the noise, leaning back slightly, revealing the travel-sized Ludo game in front of him.
“Hi, dear older brother, you’re back.”
“…” Verlaine didn’t speak, thinking he was quite mischievous.
Chuuya wouldn’t use this trick, he would only think about defeating him with brute force.
“Did you dig a hole under the carpet this time?”
Verlaine walked over, not interrupting his game, stating his guess calmly.
“I’ve given up on such meaningless actions,”
Asuka Kazuya said, rolling the dice.
“Anyway, you’ll throw a utility pole to stop me before I even run a hundred meters, how destructive to public safety.”
Verlaine watched him roll another one, not refuting his words.
“Kazuya,” he said, “I used to be an intelligence officer too.”
Asuka Kazuya’s hand, picking up the dice, paused, finally turning to look at him.
“…Intelligence officer?”
“There was a third person here just now, right?”
Verlaine sat down beside him casually, his slender fingers picking up a piece from the game board.
“You were just taking a shower, you should have heard the sound. If I guessed correctly, he shouldn’t have gone more than two blocks away.”
“Chuuya has already guessed my actions three times in a row. Although I don’t know who it is, it would be troublesome to let you continue passing information.”
Playing Ludo in such a strange way, besides Dazai, there was only Verlaine.
Asuka Kazuya looked away guiltily, turning off the signal on his earphones to prevent Verlaine from finding him.
“Your imagination is quite rich,”
Even now, Asuka Kazuya still didn’t intend to back down. The young man’s voice was soft as he snatched his toy back from Verlaine.
But perhaps because he hadn’t taken the organization’s antidote for too long, Asuka Kazuya didn’t try to attack Verlaine with a weapon.
He tried to maintain his usual expression, feeling Verlaine’s gaze on his face.
Verlaine felt a bit regretful.
When he betrayed Rimbaud, Rimbaud said he would take him back even if he had to break his arms and legs.
But Verlaine was different from Rimbaud, he didn’t think things had reached the point where he had to break his younger brothers’ limbs to take them back.
Why didn’t Kazuya and Chuuya understand? Were those ordinary people that important?
Verlaine stood up, predictably seeing Asuka Kazuya vomit blood.
The latter was also surprised, staring blankly at his palm, seemingly not understanding what had happened.
“Someone died,”
Verlaine replied, looking at his younger brother, who looked up in a daze, with pity, almost considerately explaining.
“They reminded me that I could start with those of lesser value.”
Asuka Kazuya opened his mouth, finally managing to squeeze out a dry “who” after a long while.
Verlaine smiled, taking off his earphones: “See, you’ve also noticed, haven’t you? You’ve blessed too many people, you can’t even tell who it is anymore.”
“How much longer can you hold on, Kazuya? When you finally can’t hold on anymore, everyone should be dead.”
His response was a storm-like attack.
Verlaine looked at his bleeding shoulder, reaching out to hold his younger brother, who had fainted again.
He couldn’t remember the last time he bled. How rare, after Rimbaud, the first to injure him was actually Kazuya, who would go berserk upon hearing news of his death when he was young.
Verlaine lowered his eyes, carrying the unconscious, frowning young man into the bathroom. Then he put on the earphones Asuka Kazuya had turned off.
The communication had ended. Even though he knew the other party might not open the channel again, Verlaine still asked as he unwrapped Asuka Kazuya’s bandages,
“Who are you?”
