Editing City Series:Volume2 Chapter 6 (section)

===Part 3===

The Savoy Hotel’s lobby was spacious. It was large enough to hold an entire brigade and it felt like a temple with its many marble columns.

But at the moment, that lobby felt small.

It was littered with traces of murder that one had to avoid stepping on.

It was impossible to judge the details of what had happened here, but the general idea was clear. A great slaughter had occurred here as an Override of death. The scorch marks of Ashing could be seen on the floor, on the walls, on the columns, on the front entrance’s windows, and even on the curtains.

No one had survived.

They had been thoroughly annihilated.

“They just killed as much as they could, didn’t they?”

Amon walked to the center of the lobby and turned toward the Inspector and the others.

“So they were all still alive when you called about-…”

He stopped speaking midsentence.

As the others cautiously entered the lobby, they followed his gaze.

“What is it, Amon?” asked Fir.

“Up above!” he shouted.

Those who reacted appropriately to his words survived.

Those who did not took a bullet to the head, fell to the floor, and Ashed.

Eight gunshots sounded. The same number of flames burst out and scattered ash.

“…!”

The only survivors were Amon, the Inspector, and Fir.

“Wh-what was that!?”

Fir twisted in midair, landed, and looked back up.

Amon was already looking in that same direction.

He Overrode the terrace sticking out above the front desk.

“You.”

A man dressed as a minister sat on the terrace railing.

He was the gunman who had lost his right arm.

He gently lifted the submachine gun in his left hand and greeted them.

“Hm. So when it’s the police, a surprise attack isn’t enough to wipe all of you out.”

“Wipe us out? Do you really think you can do that when I am here?”

“Inspector, that doesn’t sound very convincing when you’re hiding behind a column.”

Fir glanced over at her boss who had moved to a safe position at some point.

“H-hey,” she said. “You’re the Hound named Ralf Gurt, aren’t you?”

Ralf turned toward her on the railing.

“Just to be polite, I’ll give you a warning,” she announced without fear. “We got our information on you from the continent. Even if you kill us, you have nowhere to run. We have plenty of friends back on the continent. So…”

“So we should turn ourselves in and atone for our crimes?”

“Even the Grim Reaper lives in London. If you play your cards right, you can avoid going to hell.”

Ralf gave a deep nod.

[[Image:City_v02_215.jpg|thumb]]

“You’re telling me to seek salvation?”

He swung his arm as he asked that.

The arm that whished through the air was the right arm he had supposedly lost.

“!”

Everyone’s eyes gathered on the arm just as the man Overrode it.

A false arm of metal dully reflected the light.

It expelled some steam from the shoulder, but it was not a combat arm like Hard Wolves used. It was simply a prosthetic meant to replace a lost body part, but…

“I didn’t really think one made in London would attach to a human like me.”

He gently swung the metal arm around, spread the dully glowing fingers, and clacked the metal nails together.

“I’m supposed to be a minister, but I just can’t seem to save anyone. Not the villagers who relied on me and not even a single woman. So…”

So?

“I thought it would all be easier if I wasn’t human. If I wasn’t bound by the constraints and emotions of humanity, I wouldn’t have to seek salvation!”

Once he said that, the sound of neighing and wheels on stone pavement came from the other end of the hallway Amon’s group had entered through.

These were not the Nightmare-drawn carts prepared at Scotland Yard. A different cart had left.

…''Who was that!?

To reach the answer, the Inspector spoke from behind the column.

“Come to think of it, you were gathering voices, weren’t you? What for?”

“That’s simple. To bring heaven down on London.”

The others exchanged a glance at his casual answer.

The first to react was Fir.

“D-don’t be ridiculous! You can’t do that just by gathering voices.”

“England is a world of words, isn’t it? If I say we can do it, we can do it. …When the nine chapter title pages opened only slightly during the Great War, a massive amount of knowledge leaked from heaven and into the human world. Technology flourished and even our nation of blood and iron made it just one step away from reaching space.”

“Are you trying to bring that about again!? How!?”

Ralf smiled bitterly at Amon’s question.

“Are you really people of England? The chapter title pages sealing the way to heaven are nothing more than the words ‘Aerial City’! And can’t words and sounds be drowned out by even greater ones!?”

“Don’t be stupid. Not even the voices of monsters are powerful enough to break through the chapter title pages.”

“Are you sure?”

With that question, Ralf Overrode a shotgun into his right hand. Its muzzle was pointed toward the column the Inspector hid behind.

A gunshot rang out and the surface of the column was blown away. Countless tiny holes were gouged into the marble like air bubbles.

“Let’s say each of those holes is a single voice. Looking at it that way, it’s true you can’t shoot through a column just by gathering monster voices.”

He Overlossed the submachine gun in his left hand to make it disappear.

“But what about like this?”

When he raised his left hand again, it held a rifle.

He showed no sign of aiming and slowly fired. The gunshot was far louder than the shotgun’s.

The Inspector must have sensed danger in that great roar because he jumped out from behind the column and got down on the ground.

At the same time, something exploded.

“…!”

The destruction was over in an instant.

The column broke.

It was made of marble and had been large enough for the Inspector to hide behind, but it crumbled like it was bending its back.

Its pieces fell to the lobby carpet. Some stabbed into it, some collapsed onto their sides, some bounced, and some crumbled to dust. It was all covered by a dull yet intense sound.

The Inspector got up just as the final stone fell from the ceiling directly behind him. It split and broke with a sound that reverberated deep in their heads.

He glanced over at it.

“Ahh! My coat!”

The bottom of his coat had torn.

“I only bought that two weeks ago!”

“You’re going to die along with it, so what does it matter?”

Ralf lowered his rifle.

“Do you understand!?”

He looked down on the three in the lobby.

“Tonight at midnight, we will gather together the voices we have collected and fire them into heaven! But we will be using more than just those voices. The voices of every monster in London will resonate with them and be fired along with them.”

“Is that why you only collected the voices of Arche race monsters!?”

“Yes. That allows every monster’s voice to resonate with them. And with a few million voices, destroying the chapter title pages will be easy. We have created this cannon to gain the knowledge of heaven, so we have named it the Babel Cannon.”

The three in the lobby exchanged a glance.

…''Can they actually make something like that?

Fir spoke to the Inspector with her Open Words.

“That previous cart must have been a hint. I expect it was heading to wherever this Babel Cannon is.”

Where was that?

For all the others voices to resonate, it had to allow the sound to travel a long distance.

It had to take the shape of a tower-like cannon firing straight up into the sky.

And Ralf had specified it would be fired at midnight.

“…”

Amon was the one to come up with a location that met those conditions.

“Westminster Cathedral.”

He looked to Ralf with strength in his golden eyes.

Ralf looked down at him, but his usual smile was gone. He met Amon’s gaze for a while, but suddenly…

“Go on ahead. Valeath is there.”

Amon broke into a run as if obeying him. He cut across the lobby and into the previous hallway to take one of the carts after Valeath.

“Amon!”

Fir tried to chase after him, but a bullet burst at her feet.

“!”

“I only said ''he'' could go.”

Ralf Overlossed the guns in his hands and crossed his arms.

The sound of shattering glass briefly filled the lobby.

It shot out from Ralf in every direction and wind followed.

The heavy gust of wind blew away the scent of monsters hanging in the lobby and continued down the hallways.

“A barrier!?” shouted the Inspector.

Ralf nodded.

“It isn’t as strong as Moyla’s, but this is the combat barrier a holy man uses when hunting a monster. There is no escape for you.”

He jumped down from the terrace and his minister’s clothing spread out behind him like black wings.

“Now, I need to kill you quickly! I plan to kill Valeath next!”