Black Bullet, Vol. 1: Those Who Would Be Gods (4 page)

“Does it hurt, Enju?” he asked.

The girl snorted with triumphant eyes and looked at him unwaveringly. “I’m fine. It’ll heal soon. I’m more angry about my clothes being ruined. It even broke one of the straps of my camisole.”

As if to back up the girl’s words, what she said came to pass. The painful-looking scratches that covered her back got smaller as they all watched. Eventually, the wounds healed as if nothing had happened, and all that was left was the beautiful, smooth skin of a young girl, along with her ripped clothes.

Looking at Tadashima’s gaping mouth from the corner of his eye, Rentaro thought,
That’s the normal reaction
.

An ordinary human would first get a scab over the wound, and then the wound would slowly heal over time under that. The fact that she skipped that process when her wound healed emphasized the fact that she was no ordinary human.

Superhuman powers of healing. That was one of the benefits they had as Initiators—girls who could control the Gastrea virus under certain conditions. The extraordinary muscular strength and agility they possessed also fell into that category. And when she was not using her powers, like now, her eyes were always black.

Rentaro was a Promoter, someone who supported the Initiators, and he had the responsibility of directing her onto the right path. “Oh yeah, Enju. You talked to the victim before he experienced shape collapse, right? Did he say anything?”

“Yes, he said to say ‘hi’ to his wife and daughter.”

“I see…” Rentaro looked at his watch, straightened his back, and gave Tadashima a salute. “On April 28, 2031, at 1630 hours, Initiator Enju Aihara and Promoter Rentaro Satomi eliminated the Gastrea.”

“Good work, civil officers.”

Even if it was ritualistic, Rentaro bowed back at the highest-ranking officer on the scene. Exchanging glances with Tadashima, they both let smiles escape.

At that point, an innocent voice that didn’t understand what it meant to read the situation broke the mood.

“Hey, more importantly, are you going to make it back in time for the sale?”

“Huh…? Oh!” Rentaro hurriedly pulled out the day’s insert flyer from his pocket. The blood drained from his face.

“Oh, you’re going already?” asked Tadashima.

“Yeah, if you’ve got more work, let me know.”

Tadashima seemed to be mumbling something for some reason. “Well, you know, that…when you, uh, helped me earlier… Oh, never mind. Anyway, what’s the important business you’re rushing off to?”

“Bean sprouts are six yen a bag!”

Watching the young man’s shadow as he ran away, followed by the playful smaller shadow following him like a puppy, Shigetoku Tadashima grumbled. “Bean sprouts…?”

He had thought about thanking him for protecting him earlier, but it seemed silly now.

“You made it out in one piece, Chief?”

Turning around, he saw his subordinates who had split up to search for the Gastrea start arriving late to the scene.

“They looked like new faces. Do you think we can use them?”

“Who knows. Speaking of which, I forgot to ask for their IP Rank.” Tadashima pulled out a cigarette from his chest pocket almost unconsciously and lit it. Seeing that, his younger subordinates gazed at the cigarette without a word.

“You gonna work with the cigarette in your mouth?” one said.

“Don’t be so stuffy. I almost died just now.” Ignoring his subordinate’s knit eyebrows, he took a deep puff into his lungs and blew it out. It had been clear all day, so even the Monoliths standing far in the distance could be seen in one glance. The enormous rectangular walls standing 1.618 kilometers high and one kilometer wide dotted the scene like steel towers at regular intervals. Even though they seemed out of place in the natural landscape, there was also a feeling of reverence for them for some reason.

Within the Monolith barrier that completely surrounded a portion of the Kanto Plain was one of the last paradises left for mankind. What looked like a forest of black chrome stone blocks were actually slabs of metal made of Varanium. They were the same as what surrounded the Kanto Plain, extending into Old Tokyo, Old Kanagawa, Old Chiba, and Old Saitama.

Gastrea hated Varanium. With the special magnetic field given off by Varanium acting as a natural barrier, Tokyo Area was able to avoid large-scale Gastrea attacks. To put it another way, outside of the five remaining areas in Japan including Tokyo, the rest of the land was teeming with nonhuman monsters and nonhuman monsters that used to be human. If a mere human were to take one step outside of the Monolith, he would either be devoured in an instant or end up as one of them.

And this wasn’t just happening in Japan.

Before Tadashima knew it, forensics and other police had gathered, gathering evidence and putting up caution tape that said
KEEP OUT
.

Ten years ago, these Gastrea began to appear around the world, and with their infectious capacity, their destruction of humanity accelerated with incredible momentum. One infected person became two, two became four, four became eight… When humanity finally began
to worry about the multiplying Gastrea, it was already too late. There was nothing they could do.

All the countries that suffered damage during the large-scale war used the Monoliths, which were barely good enough for practical use, to build barriers. Now, ten years later, they continued to desperately barricade themselves with them.

Humanity lost the Great Gastrea World War.

The cigarette smoke that rose into the air soon dispersed in the setting sun.

In those ten years, Japan had healed the wounds of its defeat and finally gotten its cultural compass back to the levels of the early 2020s.

Tadashima crushed the shortened cigarette butt with his foot and looked out of the corner of his eye at his subordinate, who was moving briskly to the scene.

Occasionally, to prevent a Pandemic, they would have to hunt an early-stage Gastrea that had wandered in. At first, that was the job of the police and the riot squads under their command, or the self-defense force, but now, civsec had a firm hold on a large share of the fighting jobs. The police were left to deal with the aftermath.

Feeling the thick spring air on his skin, Tadashima looked at the two disappearing backs with uncharacteristic sentimentality. Initiator and Promoter. Fighters who came in pairs. They used the power mastered by their bodies to fight the Gastrea.

They were mankind’s last hope.

“Do you have anything left to say before you die, Satomi? Do you?”

Cold sweat ran down Rentaro’s cheek, and he backed away from the voice, but his back was soon against the wall.

The girl with the dangerous-sounding voice had a frown on her face and her arms crossed, and her foot tapped impatiently. He knew that this would happen. She was extremely angry.

In front of Rentaro’s eyes was a beauty in black. In sharp contrast with her smooth skin white as light snowfall, her long straight hair was jet-black. The only places where her skin was exposed were her
face, the nape of her neck, her hands, and the part of her thigh that could be seen between her skirt and her high socks. Everything else was covered in black with the school uniform of Miwa Girls Academy, and other than the red ribbon tied at her chest, it could be said that she was completely black and white. Her turned-up almond eyes were sharp. She was cute when she smiled, but she was usually in a sullen mood, which seemed like kind of a waste.

Rentaro was trying his best to protest while being overpowered, but he kept his voice low. “Wh-what’s done is done, right?”

“You moron!” Her shouting echoed in the small, cramped room, and when Rentaro avoided her sharp punch at the last moment, she seemed to snarl as she glared at him.

“Why did you dodge? You’re making me angry.”

“Don’t be unreasonable!”

When Rentaro made a move to escape, the girl followed, fists flying, chasing him around the reception area’s furniture.

Damn it, the whole day’s been like this.

“The only thing…you’re good at…is running…” The girl had no stamina and shortly fell back, her shoulders heaving as she caught her breath.

“C’mon, I’ll work hard when we get a new job, all right, Kisara?” said Rentaro.

“Don’t be stupid! This was our last chance!” the girl said. “And,” she continued, glaring at Rentaro, “at work, you are to call me ‘President,’ not Kisara.” Flipping her long hair, she briskly returned to her work desk. “Useless thing,” she said as she sat in her office chair.

Rentaro sighed. When he got back to the office, it wouldn’t be a mere butt-kicking waiting for him, it was an iron-fisted punishment that knew no moral bounds.

There was a large ebony work desk about the size of a grand piano and a well-tanned leather office chair. Seeing a girl wearing a sailor school uniform sitting there looked very strange.

Kisara Tendo. The youngest daughter of the Tendo family that took Rentaro in ten years earlier, and the president of the Civil Security Agency, that Rentaro worked for.

“In other words, is this what happened? You rushed off to buy the sale items that are sitting on that desk right now, and didn’t realize
until you were halfway there that you had forgotten to get paid by the police?”

“Yeah…,” Rentaro mumbled brusquely as he averted his gaze.

He had hurriedly called Tadashima, who said, “What? I thought for sure that it was a pro bono service you were doin’ for us. Well, what’s done is done, so why don’t we just call it a free trial? If more jobs come up, I’ll make sure to work you good and hard!” he said, laughing as he hung up.

Kisara rested her chin on her knee and continued with a look of displeasure on her face. “And then all you bought were two bags of bean sprouts?”

“Y-yeah! It was limited to one bag per person, so I brought Enju and bought two!” Wondering what kind of report he was giving, he searched for something else to talk about. “Do you want some, too?”

A bag of bean sprouts flew right into his face.

“Come on, Satomi, we’ve had zero income this month. Whose fault do you think that is, you useless, good-for-nothing fool? Besides, is the supermarket time sale more important to you than your report to your boss?”

Suddenly, Kisara started trembling with her hand still in a fist. But instead of a punch, she put both hands on the table and stood up. “Most importantly, why didn’t you tell me about the limited-time sale?!”

As if on cue, Kisara’s stomach growled, and the girl collapsed on her chair, holding her stomach. Her eyes were blank. “I can’t take this any longer. I want beefsteak…”

“I do too, you know,” said Rentaro.

Kisara was currently living on her own, separated from the Tendo family, so even though she looked rich, her wallet was empty. “Hey, Satomi,” she said.

“What is it?” said Rentaro.

“Get to work.”

“Ugh, I’m getting spasms from my chronic disease.”

“They’ll stop if you work.”

Kisara looked down at the rush-hour traffic from the third-floor window of Happy Building, where the Tendo Civil Security Agency was a tenant. She shook her head gently and sighed. “Owning a business is harder than I thought it would be.”

“Did you think it would be easy?”

“Playing the stock market or foreign exchange is easier. Just moving things from the right side to the left side results in a profit margin. But a business is completely hopeless. That’s also because you’re an unreliable moron, Satomi.”

“You don’t think it’s because the second-floor tenant is a cabaret and the first floor is a gay bar? The fourth is a loan shark, you know.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Location doesn’t matter to a truly good company.”

Was that how it was?
Rentaro thought. “We should just pass out flyers or tissues and advertise on the streets,” he said aloud.

“Boring. Doing average things will only bring average results. If we’re going to do something, we need something with more impact.”

“Then why don’t you wear a maid outfit and pass out flyers?” He meant that because Kisara had extremely good raw material to work with, ten out of ten people would turn to look at her, but apparently Kisara did not get that. Her face turned red and the vein on her temple bulged.

“I am a Tendo! Are you telling me to imitate those lowly waitresses and hostesses? I will do no such thing! You should run into a crowd and shout ‘Tendo Civil Security Agency is right here!’ while setting yourself on fire or blowing yourself up!”

“That’s terrorism…” Rentaro was half-shocked as he looked around. “But, President, seriously, let’s hire another employee.”

Even if it was small and cramped, the Tendo Civil Security Agency rented out a whole floor for its offices, and having just Rentaro and Enju as its only two employees was too much of a waste.

“I will if there’s someone I think I can use,” Kisara said curtly and snapped her fingers to change the subject. “Satomi, make some tea.”

“Do it yourself,” he said.

“Oh my, what idiot was it that forgot to get paid again?”

“Damn it. Okay, okay. I shall bring it directly, Miss.”

Wondering how she could still put on such airs when she was so poor, Rentaro poured hot water into the teapot and put it on Kisara’s desk.

“Oh, thanks,” Kisara said, but didn’t look as she continued typing on her laptop with her delicate white fingers, but when she looked up
for a second, their eyes met. “Hey, the Gastrea you defeated was an infected, right?”

“Yeah,” he said brusquely, and continued, answering what she left unasked. “We couldn’t find the source of the infection, but it was probably the same Model Spider Factor. Since it wasn’t a bird or winged insect type, another company probably found it and took care of it already. If it were above Stage Three, we would’ve been called in to help. Besides, the biohazard alarm didn’t go off, either.”

The single-factor Gastrea that Rentaro had defeated was just a scaled-up version of an animal on Earth, so it was still almost cute. With two or more factors, and especially with four or more, the DNA was so mixed up that the resulting Gastrea could only be called a monster.