City Series:Volume2 Chapter 6

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Chapter 6: Honest Confession[edit]

Part 1[edit]

Music played while a bell rang eleven times.

London’s night was reaching its high point.

The times when humans slept were the best times for monsters.

At that time, a group of carts left the back of Scotland Yard. They were all drawn by Nightmares.

Why were they leaving the Yard? And why were they loaded with wooden boxes of bottles which were clearly not needed for criminal investigations?

The carts seemed odd when they first left the Yard, but as they moved slowly through the city, they soon blended into their surroundings.

Once they turned left in front of the Houses of Parliament, Scotland Yard was no longer visible behind them. At that point, they only looked like a wholesale seller transporting alcohol. London consumed a lot of alcohol during the night, so one could easily imagine these were meant to provide those drinks.

However, that was not the case.

After all, Amon was in control of the lead card.

He kept the horses moving a bit faster than normal and looked around.

Whitehall was lined with political buildings and it had a certain dignity to it even at night.

Everyone walking along the road was moving quickly because they had homes to return to.


Amon silently faced forward.

He had the horses race by so quickly no one could read his Open Words. He heard the Inspector speak from the second cart behind him, but he ignored the man.

He thought about a great many things all on his own.

They were quickly approaching the Savoy Hotel.

Part 2[edit]

“The preparations really took some time,” said the Inspector as he stopped his cart behind the Savoy. “We’re pretty late.”

Fir glanced over at him from where she sat next to him in casual clothes.

“You’re too obsessed with looking good. You said we needed to disguise ourselves so they wouldn’t catch on, but then you ended up wearing your usual coat and suit.”

“I realized a brewery disguise does not suit me.”

“Quiet,” cut in Amon.

He had already stepped down from his cart and stood at the Savoy’s large back entrance. Unlike the main entrance, it was a plain metal door and it was currently closed.

“Did you have this closed to keep them from escaping? These are normally open at delivery time.”

“The Inspector brought a hand to his chin and tilted his head.

“Hm. When I called the manager earlier, he told me to come right in.”

Just as the man finished speaking, Amon placed a hand on the knob.

It opened surprisingly smoothly.

The white light of the hotel slowly cut into the darkness. It was brighter than they expected.

They all cautiously looked into the bright hallway.

“No one’s here,” muttered Amon as he moved inside the light.

“Hey! The first one in needs the warrant!”

He ignored the Inspector but stopped as soon as he set foot inside.

He saw a large metal door to his right.

The doorplate was polished enough to see his reflection and it said “Furniture Storage” in gold. The room likely stored their extra chairs, cupboards, and the like.

“That’s not it.”

He turned to a similar door on the opposite side. The gold word on its doorplate said “Kitchen”.

A grim look filled his face when he read that word.

“So this is it.”

“Hey! Don’t do anything without permission! I am in charge of this-…!”

“Shut up! Just stay put!”

Amon cut off the Inspector and turned toward him, Fir, and the disguised police officers who had entered the hallway.

“Can’t you smell this!? This is the stench of Ash!”

He opened the door in front of him and it flew open as if inviting him inside.


The scene before his eyes went beyond anything he had expected.

This was the result of mass-produced death.

Dark scorch marks could be seen on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. These were undoubtedly the stains and scorch marks of blood and Ashing.

As they burned into Ash, they had seared their silhouettes into the surfaces they lay one. Some had collapsed atop the cooking tables, some had their upper bodies in the sink, and some had fallen on top of each other on the floor.

A lot of “cooking” had occurred in this kitchen.

No corpses remained. Instead, the pork legs and hunks of beef leftover from dinner were lying around and dripping blood.

“We messed up.”

Amon did not sound all that bothered by it as he turned his back on the kitchen. That seemed to say that he had no business with the tragedy before his eyes and that this was only the beginning.

He walked further down the hallway.

“Hey, wait!”

He did not turn toward the voice behind him.

“Come with me and you’ll die. I am Death Wish Amon after all.”

With those parting words, he reached for the large door at the end of the hallway.

And he pushed open the double doors all at once.

The opening doors created convection in the air. The perfume-like aroma of the hotel flowed in, but it was accompanied by a stench of death even stronger than before.


What Amon found beyond the door was exactly what he expected.

Part 3[edit]

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.


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.

City v02 215.jpg

“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…”


“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.


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!”

Part 4[edit]

A barrier closed behind Amon as he ran out of the hotel’s back entrance.


He turned around and reached out a hand, but it was knocked back as if struck. His fingers and nails went numb. It was a powerful barrier.


He grimaced a bit and stared past the invisible wall. The door at the other end of the hall had closed, so there was no way to know what was happening.

He just about gave a shout, but closed his mouth and stopped.

He turned his back on the hotel.

“I need to get to Westminster Cathedral.”

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself and he walked over to the cart he had arrived on.

It belonged to Jonathan’s brewery and he had to pursue Valeath with it.

As he approached the cart he needed to ride, he noticed something.


He sensed an odd presence and Overrode his surroundings. He saw someone standing in front of the cart’s front seat. He saw a girl standing in the darkness.

It was of course Klausl.


Amon’s mouth hung open for an instant, a number of expressions appeared in his mind, and he finally settled on a reaction.

“Y-you idiot! Why are you here!?”

He snapped at her, but she did not flinch back.

Despite his blatant rejection, she took a step toward him.

“The Inspector told me to check on the situation after you went inside and to provide support if anything happened.”

“Him again.”

He frowned and pointed at the hotel behind him.

“You can tell a barrier was put up, right? They’re trapped inside.”

“Yes, so I sent out a clairvoyant letter a moment ago. Reinforcements will arrive soon.”

“You sure are calm.”

Amon sighed and seemed to remember what he needed to do. He walked past Klausl in order to board the cart.

“Please wait!”

She stopped him.

“Where are you going, Amon!?”

“If I tell you, you’ll come with me.”

She fell silent at that.

He placed a hand on her head and rubbed her soft blonde hair.

“I’ve sworn to take revenge. …And my old friends are calling for me.”

At that very moment, he sensed something.


He heard something.


He thought he heard Klausl speak. He had definitely heard something so quiet it barely qualified as a voice.

What had she said?

He looked down at her and saw her biting her lower lip, frowning, and hanging her head. There was no way she could have spoken like that.

He could definitely hear a voice, but he was not hearing it with his ears. These words seemed to Task him more directly. They were a cry of someone’s will.

They were Open Words.

You don’t understand!

That was what her will said to him. She then shook her head to push aside his hand.

“You don’t understand anything!”

The look on her face must have surprised him because he took a step back.

He put up his guard a little and stared at her.

“What don’t I understand?”

It was a quiet question and she did not answer it.

Instead, she placed a hand on her chest and took a deep breath. She seemed to be applying Verbal Self Control. She firmly received his gaze and asked him a question.

“Why do you refer to yourself as Death Wish Amon?”

It was a simple question and Amon smiled bitterly as if it were a silly thing to ask.

“You read the Yard’s data on me, right? Someone around me always dies. And they drive me onward by saying they wouldn’t have died if it hadn’t been for me.”

He took a breath and hesitated, but ultimately continued.

“And I agree with them! If I weren’t here, if I hadn’t been born a demon, and if I’d never been here, things would be so much better!”

He looked to Klausl’s face as he shouted at her.

She did not give a look of pity or sadness, but she did give him a look he could not quite put to words.


His expression briefly twisted when he saw that look, but…

“I understand. I really do! That’s why I’m Death Wish Amon! That’s what everyone wants! It’s what Jonathan wants, what my mother wants, what Eilen wants-…!”

He stopped shouting there.

He was stopped by a strike to the cheek.

A sharp tone filled the night air. Like a wedge, it tore a hole in the mood filling that place.

And that hole took the form of silence.


Amon subconsciously brought a hand to his cheek and Klausl Tasked him.

You don’t understand!

“Why do you see it that way!? At the very least, I…I…”

She took a breath.

“I don’t want you to die!”

She hung her head and clenched her fists, but Amon opposed that idea.

“D-don’t be stupid!”

“I don’t care if it’s stupid! I’m used to being called that!”

She tilted her head.

“And it isn’t just me. Fir, the Inspector, and everyone else don’t want to see you die either! So why do you insist on finding a place to die!?”

“As long as I keep living, someone else is going to die. And yet I have an infinite lifespan as a demon. …So many people have died because I’m alive!”

Klausl looked up at that.

She brought her hands to her chest to create a dividing line and to gather her resolve.

“I am a Sein Frau, so I didn’t die.”

Amon gasped and she continued.

“You’ve accepted that I really am alive.”


“So I’m glad that I’m a Sein Frau! Because I’m not a normal person and because I won’t die, I can keep living forever and ever!”

She did not cry, but she did hang her head to hide her expression from him.


He quickly looked away from her, Closed off all of his emotions, and stared up into the sky.

There was no fog this night.

However, the sky was cloudy. The clouds were lit by the city’s lights and glowed white from below.

As he looked up at them, some words escaped his lips.

“I can’t see it.”

Was he looking for the moon? With a look of resignation, he looked back down and spoke to Klausl’s downturned face.

“Anything you say is useless.”


She looked up, but he was not looking at her.

His gaze had dropped to the ground.

“No matter what I do, death is the only option. Are you sure you want to see that?”

She took his hand in hers.

“It will be okay.”

Her words were not directed at anyone in particular.

Amon’s expression changed as if that had been a sign. He gave a bitter smile.


She frowned at that word.

“That is a bad habit of yours. …So where are you headed?”

She pulled on his hand and climbed onto the cart’s front seat. Amon’s bitter smile deepened as he answered.

“Westminster Cathedral. We need to hurry!”

Part 5[edit]

The cart took off with the two of them onboard.

Traveling to Westminster Cathedral required returning to the vicinity of Scotland Yard.

They raced down Whitehall and turned right in front of the Houses of Parliament. The wheels cried out along the pavement and the whip struck the horse. The cart began to tilt, but it shook and tilted back.

The cart shot down a long stretch of Victoria Street. Continuing this way would take them to Scotland Yard in five minutes. Another two minutes and they would reach Westminster Cathedral.

At their pace, that would be shortened a little.

They moved quickly.

Klausl drove from the front seat. She was new to this, but she gave it her all.

“You can be pretty reckless when you need to be,” shouted Amon as the wind whipped at his jacket and carried his voice behind them.

“Sorry,” replied Klausl without looking over.

Amon glanced at her.

“I don’t mind. In fact, pick up the pace if you can.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”


“Um… I was talking about before…when I hit you.”

Her voice grew weaker toward the end and Amon rubbed his slapped cheek.

“That hurt.”

Even after hearing his blunt comment, she continued facing forward.

“But that was your fault, Amon.”


“You were speaking to me, but you suddenly mentioned another woman. I couldn’t help myself.”

She tensed her shoulders uncomfortably and Amon frowned.

That’s why I was slapped?”

“S-sorry. But… But it’s an important issue, so…”

Watching her as she trailed off, Amon frowned and sank down in his seat.

“Well, whatever. At least the arm I healed is working.”


“You don’t remember which hand you slapped me with?”

“Oh, um, the arm you healed is doing great. Really. Look.”

“Don’t swing the reins around!”

The headless Nightmares directly responded to the movement of the reins. They nearly veered over into the opposing lane, but Amon got them back under control. They returned to the proper lane without dropping in speed.

“That was close.”

He turned around to make sure they had not left any confusion behind and then handed the reins back to Klausl.

“Oh, thank you very much. Also, um, well…”

“There’s more?”

“When you healed me…um, I’m not sure how to put this… Did you see?”


“Well, what I mean is… How was I?”

“W-wait just a minute!”

At that moment, the cart hit a stone and bounced up. The wooden boxes in the back clattered together as the cart landed.

Amon had been trying to say something, but he must have bit his tongue because he covered his mouth with a hand.


Meanwhile, Klausl continued facing forward and ignored Amon’s groan of pain.

“That was the first time I let someone other than my father see my body.”



When Klausl turned toward Amon, her cheeks were flushed.


Amon was dumbfounded and Klausl continued to blush.

“Is something the matter?”

“Your face is red.”

“Eh? Oh, yes. I don’t know why. This never happened before no matter how embarrassed I got, but it suddenly happened just now. …How strange. I wonder why.”

A Sein Frau would grow as soon as she felt the need for that ability.

So what did it mean if she blushed?


When the answer came to Amon, he placed a hand on her head.

“Watch the road. The heat in your face is…from a cold. Yeah, a cold.”


“Shut up. A cold is the beginning of all illnesses.”

After that strange comment, he focused on the road ahead and sighed. He was on his way to a battle, but his body was not at all tense.

As if to scold him for that, a blade-like presence suddenly stabbed into him.

This was murderous intent.


The murderous intent belonged to someone standing in the center of Victoria Street. She wore a white dress, her black hair fluttered in the wind, and she stood there as if to stop the cart.

“Miss Moyla!?”

“It doesn’t matter! Drive right into her!”

Amon jumped from the front seat to the back of the cart. He snapped his suspenders as he shouted toward the rapidly approaching witch.

“Come on! I’ll take you on!”

His roaring voice was filled with strength.

They were less than three minutes to Westminster Cathedral and it was just under ten minutes until midnight when Ralf had said heaven would be brought down.

Part 6[edit]

Just as Amon and Klausl encountered Moyla, the Savoy Hotel had become a giant execution site.

Gunman Ralf was the executioner.

He had two targets: the Inspector and Fir.

The Inspector pulled on Fir’s hand and jumped to hide behind a marble column.

“Ow ow ow ow ow!”

“Don’t shout, Fir!”

A loud gunshot rang out just as the Inspector shouted. The marble column broke down the middle as if its contents had been blown out. Fragments washed over the Inspector as he backed away. It was worth mentioning that he kept Fir safely behind his back.

“There’s nowhere to hide. I’m in top form right now.”

Ralf’s voice was cheerful. He had been standing in the center of the lobby and firing his gun without even turning to face them. He may have thought they were not worth pursuing.

The Inspector actually clicked his tongue which was rare for him.

“This isn’t good. I seem to be having a streak of bad luck right now.”

“Oh? And when will that streak end?”

“Good question.” He placed a hand on his chin at the perfect angle. “When you are gone, I suppose.”

A sudden gunshot rang out.

This time, Fir tugged on the Inspector’s collar. The two of them collapsed toward the entrance to escape.

They hid behind a sofa, but the back was blown away and white fluff scattered everywhere.

The fluff floated around like powdered snow, but some of it was scorched from the heat of the bullet’s passage.

The Inspector crawled along the ground and knocked a table on its side as a barricade.

“This guy can’t take a joke. You’ll never have a successful career like that.”

“Well, I think your career’s about at its end too.”

“That’s dark, Fir. Can’t you be more cheerful?”

“I’m trapped in an inescapable barrier with an unreliable boss and a powerful enemy. How am I supposed to be cheerful?”

“What if we add this to the equation?”

The Inspector turned toward Fir and pulled a metal device from his coat pocket.

It was a handgun.

It was a six-shot revolver, but Fir did not recognize the type.

“That does cheer me up. But the Yard doesn’t normally carry guns.”

“I picked it up at home.”

Fir’s expression showed she did not believe him, but he held out the gun.

“Take it.”

“You’re not going to use it?”

“In the end, a dandy gentleman has to use his fists to fight.”


Fir took the gun with a frown and Ralf’s gunshot seemed to challenge them.

The last decorative plant was blown away as if it had exploded.

“What are you doing hiding back there? This isn’t any fun if you don’t try to run.”

Fir bared her teeth and prepared to poke her head up, but the Inspector held her down.

“Fir, listen carefully.”

“Ow ow ow ow. C’mon, women only want their lover to touch their hair.”

“The hair salon worker is your lover? ….No, we need to take this seriously.”

“Wh-what is it?”

Hearing her confused voice, he pointed behind her.

“The hallway to the Savoy’s first floor is a few meters behind you. Run in there.”

“He’ll shoot me halfway there!”

“I’ll move at the same time. Once you slide into the hallway, close the fire shutter. The one in here’s electric, so you just have to hit the button and it will close.”

“What about you?”

He smiled at her question.

“I’ll find a way to escape even if it means leaving you here.”

“U-um, y’know…”

“Shut up. This is your chance. Go!”

He shoved her out toward the hallway door.

I can’t believe this!

She stood without turning around and ran. She ignored the murderous intent on the back of her neck and Tasked herself to run. Her toenails jabbed into the bottom of her shoes as she kicked off the lobby floor.

The gunman’s intent to kill struck her back and she almost stopped as it grew thicker and thicker. On the third step, she could feel that thick and heavy intent to kill focusing on the very center of her back. But at the same time…

“What are you doing? I’m the bigger prize.”

She heard the Inspector’s voice.

The murderous intent vanished from her back. The pressure disappeared.

She ran and ran and ran as fast as she could.

She saw the hallway entrance right in front of her.

I can make it!

She was certain of it. She Overrode her body forward and leaped. She used her feline nimbleness to leap as far as she could.

She reached out her hand in midair and pressed the button for the emergency alarm.

Three things happened all at about the same time: the bright red sound of the alarm rang out, Fir landed, and the fire shutter started to separate the hallway from the lobby.

She slid across the carpet on her back and twisted around. She pressed against the hallway wall and looked back toward the lobby.


The man was persevering past Ralf on the other end of the lobby. His eyes turned toward Fir, but he did nothing and said nothing. Ralf had not moved from his spot between them.

The two men glared at each other as the fire shutter continued down. Feeling like her field of vision was shrinking, Fir shouted again.


She received a gunshot in response.

A bullet moving too fast to see blew away the column the Inspector tried to hide behind and cut off his escape.

Next, Ralf turned toward Fir.

“I guess I’ll leave you until later.”

His tone of voice showed clear delight and he aimed his rifle back at the Inspector.

At the same time, the lobby was cut off from her view. The fire shutter had fully closed.


She stood up.

At that moment, she heard multiple sounds that reverberated in her gut from beyond the shutter meant to defend against flames and smoke.

The gunshots were low and deep.

Fir knew what was happening, so she backed away from the shutter as if she refused to believe the scene occurring beyond it.

“That…can’t be happening.”

She held the revolver tight and backed down the hallway.

She saw the dining hall to the left.

“Does this connect to the kitchen we saw before?”

She stopped moving.


After a short silence, she charged into the dining hall.

She was not trying to flee. She was trying to find any possible way of winning.

Part 7[edit]

The witch’s jump surpassed the realm of humanity.

Moyla kicked off the road toward Amon who took a defensive stance on the back of the cart. She leaped…no, flew toward him. Her white dress spread out in the night air and picked up the city’s lights. It looked like a snowflake.

City v02 241.jpg


The white shadow flew over Klausl’s head and even Amon’s shoulder. She easily and silently landed behind Amon on the back of the cart.


Amon turned toward her and saw an open-handed jab coming at him like a spear. It was a quick strike and the fingernails growing from her white hand left a red afterimage behind. Was the scarlet decorating her nails a manicure or was it blood?

The cart maintained its speed and Amon back-stepped out of the way without losing his balance. He then faced his opponent.

There was no strength in Moyla’s eyes, but her movements were sharp. This time, she made a sudden karate chop. Not only that, but she made a full swing from directly to his side. It was not a straight-line movement.

This woman knows how to fight!?

He felt a chill on his spine and his body crouched on its own. He reflexively stuck out a foot to kick Moyla in the gut. This was no time to hold back.

The kick would have broken some ribs with a normal opponent, but she endured it while only taking a few steps back.


He gasped at that and she folded her fingers together with tremendous speed. The movement showed no sign of hesitation or damage.

Is she not human!?

The very next moment, light flew through the air.

The light grazed his right shoulder and struck a red brick building along Victoria Street. It was a school known as a Bluecoat School. The spear of light blew up the sculpture on top of the building.

Stone fragments scattered everywhere and poured down on Amon and Moyla like colorful rain.

However, they quickly left the fragments and commotion behind.

Moyla charged toward Amon and threw an open-handed jab toward his crouched body.

He Overrode one of the cart’s wooden boxes into his hands. It was empty and he used it to block Moyla’s strike.

Her red nails easily broke through the wooden box and out the other side.

But that was fine.

As the splinters washed over him, he forcibly twisted the box.

An unpleasant noise came from the box. It was the sound of scraping flesh and of a dry branch breaking.


He kicked her knee from the front to knock her down.

With a dull sound, the white dress fell face down and swept Amon aside with her empty hand. Her face remained expressionless and her eyes weak.

Amon kicked that face.

He did not hold back.

He heard a dull sound he would rather not have heard.

Moyla’s teeth scattered across the cart and her nicely-shaped nose was turned at an odd angle.

“How about that!?”

As if to deny his triumphant tone, she stood unsteadily back up and prepared her unharmed hand.

“You’re persistent.”

Just as he clicked his tongue, Klausl shouted back at him.

“Amon! We’re about to turn left!”

“All right!”

Moyla stepped forward as if his shout had been her cue and he picked up a new wooden box.

The cart began to curve left. Centrifugal force tugged them to the outside. Amon faced the rear of the cart, so his balance shifted to the left and Moyla’s to her right.

Perhaps due to the box hanging from her right arm, Moyla swayed outward.

That motion settled the fight.


Amon swung his box from the direction she was falling toward. He swung it free of the centrifugal force and into the side of her head.

The box broke and Moyla’s face caved in.

There was a great shattering sound.

The box had been filled with bottles.

The bottles collided with her head, broke, and spilled their contents. Their weight bent her neck at an unnatural angle and her blood mixed with the strong mixed cocktail.

The cart reached the end of the curve and sped up.

Moyla could not keep up with the change in speed and she swayed backwards. With boxes still attached to her right arm and face, she fell off the cart and to the road.

Amon turned his back on her and the wind struck him in the face. He looked straight forward.

He saw Westminster Cathedral up ahead.

That was the final battlefield for them all.

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