There was a place in the Soviet Union that was known as the "secret room."
There, orphaned children are gathered and transformed into warriors to serve the state. These boys and girls have no human rights. Dozens of them are sacrificed, their bodies manipulated like guinea pigs, to collect experimental data.
The existence of that atrocious experimental facility was once exposed by an American journalist.
It became a hot topic and sparked controversy all over the world. It even drew a tsunami of criticism.
However, the Soviet Union stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.
They absolutely refuse to accept investigations from other countries and will not leak a single piece of information.
Several months passed.
If there is no progress, the public will easily get bored.
As no one talked about it anymore, the "secret room" became a fading trend and was buried in people's memories.
It's as if those poor children never existed in the first place.
However, even though no one saw it, the room definitely existed.
Every organization and department has a concept.
An ideology. An ideal. Or, a reason for existence.
In the secret room, the objective was "to use demonic power for military purposes," with the specific goal being "to transform soldiers into demons."
A "demon" refers to a corpse possessed by a demon.
They retain almost no memories of their human lives. Their personalities are corrupted, and they become uncontrollable, vermin.
However, there were rare instances where some memory and rationality remained.
So a high-ranking Soviet official thought:
Is it possible to intentionally recreate "it"?
Can we bestow demonic abilities upon loyal soldiers while keeping their humanity intact?
If they could achieve that feat, they would be able to mass-produce soldiers wielding demonic powers in legions.
If that happens, the balance of power in countries around the world will change dramatically. The amount of the Gun Devil's flesh we possess will no longer be a concern. We will be able to become the world's dominant power ahead of other great nations.
This marked the beginning of the demon transformation project.
The experiments were without exception inhumane, but even inhumanity can be viewed in degrees.
One experiment was conducted solely for the purpose of collecting numerical data, completely disregarding the survival of the subjects.
One experiment is a relatively safe clinical trial derived from that accumulated data.
...The number of guinea pigs is also finite.
Children who show promise as agents are given treatments with a high success rate.
Children who don't fit that description are subjected to experiments that are essentially worthless.
That was the rule.
Furthermore.
Worst of all, the selection method, which was itself based on the ideology of eugenics, was known to the guinea pigs themselves.
The adults had only one intention.
—If you want to survive, you have to work hard.
Therefore, everyone was desperate.
I am competent!
My loyalty to my country remains unwavering!
More than anyone else! More than anyone else trembling beside me in the same predicament, I am the most capable and will be able to make a great contribution to the nation in the future!
I had a dream.
A dream from the Soviet era.
A dream of a secret room
The faces of my guinea pig friends appear and then disappear.
These are true warriors who have mastered the rules of the secret room and gone through grueling training.
Some possessed combat skills that even surpassed Reze's.
Some had mastered many languages, used numerous disguises, and possessed the conversational skills to quickly become friends with anyone.
And finally, the girl who emerged most clearly was one who had received high praise in every field.
Her name was Veronica.
Her striking features included translucent white skin, flowing blonde hair, and clear blue eyes. She possessed a beautiful appearance that captivated not only men but also women, yet she always contorted her face and glared intensely at me.
They were unilaterally viewed as enemies.
Because their abilities were evenly matched.
In fact, I think either side could have won.
But in the end, I was the one who was chosen.
I received Bomb's heart and became a weaponized human. With my human memories and personality intact, I was promoted from a guinea pig who had to live in fear of death to a human weapon whose survival was guaranteed as long as I completed my mission.
The other candidates were not selected.
lal
"...cormorant"
I wake up.
I was drenched in sweat from sleeping. My heart was still pounding, as if I had just finished a run.
I gazed blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling. I counted my heartbeats to about 20.
The ceiling of the Hayakawa family home
A faint memory of last night comes back to me. I can even remember the place. This is Japan, a peaceful apartment room, with no surveillance cameras anywhere. There's no way there are any supervisors or instructors who hold the power of life and death over me. Yet, even so, the stiffness in my muscles doesn't seem to be going away anytime soon.
"Phew~"
He slowly rose to his feet like a zombie. He muttered like a zombie.
"Why can't I forget?"
The echoes of automatic rifle fire lingered in the back of my mind.
I ran into Hayakawa Nayuta in the hallway.
She must have been awake for quite some time. Dressed in a stiffened sailor uniform, she peeked out from the bathroom, her face looking artificial.
Morning greetings. I pasted on a picture of my sleepy, droopy face.
"Good morning"
"..."
Hayakawa Nayuta doesn't respond. She doesn't even smile.
I think she's an unfriendly girl. She should smile more.
The girl, with her piercing gaze, looked up at me.
"I was shown Denji's memories."
They say things that I don't really understand.
Memory?
"What's that? Can the Demon of Control do things like that?"
"can"
"Hmm... So you did it while Denji was sleeping? That's peeping, isn't it? You shouldn't do things like that."
"It's not bad. Kishibe knows that too."
"Really?"
Oh well. I'll check it later.
"But domination, again..."
Domination.
The curse of manipulating others at will. A takeover of their lives.
I don't have a good impression of them at all.
The power of this demonic force of control is on a completely different level from the coercive powers humanity has ever exerted on others and other countries. Brainwashing is nothing compared to this. It is a 100% pure violation of human rights.
I myself have experienced it.
In a way, that could be considered a more horrific act than murder. Not that one is better than the other, though.
"The customers have some pretty deep-seated problems."
"I'm not a customer."
"Oh, right. I'm the customer here."
"That's also wrong."
"Hmm?"
"Denji doesn't think that way."
"Oh, really?"
I felt genuinely happy.
So, Denji doesn't see me as someone from the past, huh?
"So, what are you talking about? Did you find anything interesting by peeking inside Denji's head?"
"Reze, you like Denji, don't you?"
"oh"
I involuntarily leaned back three centimeters.
That's way too sudden.
It seems he came to compete first thing in the morning.
I thought, "What a kid." His energy levels were unbelievable for a child under one year old.
"...What's going on? You've surprised me. Do you want to have a duel? Well, don't worry. I have no intention of taking anything from Nayuta."
"You like it, don't you?"
"Wow, they're really coming on strong!"
The other party seemed quite determined. However, it didn't feel like a dispute over ownership. There was little hostility, yet their stance was remarkably stable. It felt like they were urging me to be completely open in order to continue our relationship.
Hmm. Oh well.
I straightened my hunched posture and made eye contact directly.
"Like, huh... I'm not sure. I'm attracted to him, but I don't think it's pure love."
"Pure...?"
"The devil wouldn't understand. Oh, I'm not being sarcastic here."
"What do you mean?"
"The concept behind the name of a demon is its reason for existence, right? It's decided from the moment you're born... That's incredibly easy, isn't it?"
"Easy...? I don't know, I've never thought about it."
"Humans don't have a predetermined reason for existence. You have to find it yourself. It's something you cultivate as you go through life... But I was raised as a warrior, or rather, a weapon, perhaps? So I still don't have anything."
"..."
"When I first met Denji, I thought, 'Ah, he's just like me.' Just used. He was never given anything. ...But for some reason, even though in some ways his life was even more meaningless than mine, he had his own will... And also,"
And also.
She said she would run away with me.
They recognized the value in me, even though I was supposed to have nothing.
Not out of ulterior motives, nor in pursuit of profit or security. Simply because of my honest feelings.
That made me happy.
And I was also happy that I could feel happy about myself like this.
"...And what's next?"
"secret"
"...If you don't want to say it, that's fine."
"n/a"
I thought of myself as a weapon in human form.
But that's when I realized something: even now, if I take things one step at a time, I might be able to catch up.
It was Denji who made me think that way.
That's why I took on this job.
Because I felt I could gain something to replace the distorted trust I had received from my homeland.
"Well, I was attracted to you because you possess qualities I lack. Are you satisfied with this answer?"
"...I don't really understand."
"I guess the point is that humans are more troublesome than demons."
"I think that's what you call trying to mislead someone."
"That's right. You wrap it up. Because people don't want to show what's inside."
Nayuta's expression remained unchanged. Like a mannequin, she didn't move a muscle, staring intently at Reze with emotionless eyes.
"You seem unhappy. This is life, you learn a lot. I can even teach you if you want. Not about me, though."
"It's fine."
"Oh, really?"
I slipped past it.
I wash my face in the bathroom. As I watch the water droplets fall, I try to put together my thoughts about Hayakawa Nayuta.
A strange demon.
It's trying to grow like a human. ...Why?
To grow, you need a sense of purpose and motivation. In the case of that little devil, it must be Denji. For the sake of others. To be with others. Without such a positive attitude, you can't expect big changes.
I know that very well.
People cannot change solely for the sake of survival. Growth requires a certain kind of hope—a feeling of longing.
@
Peace and quiet are comforting.
That was all my high school life was like.
"Denji? Big brother? It's already lunchtime, you know?"
"Hmm... Mugaga..."
He remained motionless, slumped over the desk. I poked his shoulder with my index finger.
"Uh... I'll get up."
Denji didn't move after saying that.
"That's a problem."
The class was long over. The classroom was completely empty.
Incidentally, Denji's friends quickly left. They were probably being considerate of me, his self-proclaimed girlfriend. ...Although there was one guy who reacted in a slightly crazy way. I think it's amazing that he suddenly asked, "Why don't you cheat on me with me!?" even though they'd barely spoken to each other.
Well, the fact that Japan can tolerate such eccentric people is probably proof of its peaceful environment.
"Now then, Denji-oniisama? It's already past 12:30... What will happen if you keep dawdling?"
I tickled his side, making him yelp.
"Whoa!"
I met the boy's gaze as he looked up. I imagined a curious cat, widening my eyes and playfully curling my lips into a mischievous smile. Everyone feels happy when they receive affection. That's just how it is.
"Good morning"
"Good morning."
She smiled.
"Where should we eat?"
I walked down the corridor alongside Denji.
I have a packed lunch. Hayakawa Nayuta made it for me this morning. By the way, I felt bad just watching, so I tried to help, but she just shook her head without saying a word. Apparently the kitchen is her territory.
"It's like a dream..."
Denji muttered.
"Hmm?" I tilted my head.
"This is the kind of life I wanted to live."
There was no need to even ask, "What kind of life do you lead?"
An ordinary life.
A daily life where one attends school as one is of age, and has time to think about how to spend their leisure time.
The soft sunlight streaming in through the window made me relax too.
"Shall we do more?"
"yeah?"
"It's something a normal high school student would say. I told you that yesterday, didn't I?"
"Huh? What?"
"So, we're boyfriend and girlfriend. Should we really start dating?"
"I'm super happy, but... is Reze okay with this?"
"fart?"
Oh. That's an unexpected reaction.
I thought I'd either be anxious or happy.
"I want lots of girlfriends, but isn't that usually not okay?"
"Well, that's..."
It's definitely not going to work.
But for some reason, I didn't want to say no, so I looked for other words.
"Well, that's true, isn't it? Love is something you direct towards just one person."
Let me think about it for a moment.
What would happen if I had a one-on-one, realistic love story with Denji?
Hmm. That might be a bit tough.
"Ah... Denji, you really care about Nayuta, don't you?"
"ah"
"So, what else is important?"
"Hmm... A dog?"
"Anything else?"
"Hmm, well..."
"See? It doesn't come to mind right away, does it? Denji, you don't seem to realize it, but you don't have many things that are important to you. So, you can't tell him to throw away one of them, can you?"
"Hmm...?"
They're racking their brains. It seems they don't quite understand.
"So, I'm saying, Denji, you should just do whatever you want. I don't really care what you do."
"Hmm. Is that so?"
I glanced at the lunchbox hanging from the boy's hand, who seemed troubled.
Homemade lunch box.
It's like a form of compassion created by Nayuta Hayakawa.
"...I think I'll just forget about it. A guy who has two girlfriends is a no-go. That kind of guy is a total jerk."
"Hmmmm, even if they're scumbags, I'd still like to date both of them."
"Hey, hey. You're gonna get stabbed eventually, you know?"
He made a bitter face.
Come to think of it, Hayakawa Nayuta hinted last night that she might actually "stab" him. I'm sure that's what he remembered.
Turn the corner. I'll give you a heads-up as I head up the stairs to the rooftop.
"Denji, you really need to pay attention to that kid properly, okay? He doesn't have anyone else on his side. I think he's more vulnerable than you realize."
"Unstable, isn't it?"
"Sometimes you should just give them a big hug and say, 'Stay here, stay by my side.'"
"Is that how it is?"
"That's right. It's communication."
I stepped onto the last step. I turned the doorknob and stepped out onto the roof.
A humid breeze swept through the air. Gray clouds covered the entire sky.
Oh dear. I thought it was sunny.
Turning around, she pouted at Denji, who had a gloomy expression on his face.
"Hey, do you understand? I'm driving a nail into you right now, okay? A nail, a nail!"
I pointed my index finger at him repeatedly, but Denji still didn't seem to understand. He kept pursing his lips and groaning.
Sigh. I bet he's just running some boring simulation in his head.
For example, what would happen if I said to Hayakawa Nayuta, "I want to date both of you!"?
...Whatever the reason, what kind of thinking is it to mope around thinking about another woman when you're about to have lunch with the woman you're supposed to be with?
It's kind of annoying.
I thought about saying something mean about them.
"That's lame."
Then he made a really surprised face. Heh, serves you right.
@
I was summoned to the Devil Hunter Tokyo Headquarters.
The guide was a hulking man with a crew cut, and without even a nod, he turned on his heel and strode down the corridor. Since he didn't say anything, I had no choice but to hurry and follow him. The man bypassed the workroom of the operational unit, passed the small rooms used for consultations, and finally turned around when we reached the stairs at the back of the building. He made sure I was following him properly before going up the stairs. Second floor, third floor, fourth floor... I think we've come to a fairly secret area. It's not the kind of place an ordinary devil hunter would normally visit.
I had a feeling something was fishy about this.
If it were just a meeting, they could have it in a regular conference room. The fact that they're not doing that means...it's something they don't want to discuss openly.
The giant finally comes to a stop.
He jutted his chin forward, and there, in front of him, was a plain, uninspired room number plate.
"4th Reference Room"
Upon entering the room, I found only Captain Kishibe and a thin man with glasses waiting. I recognized the man with glasses. He was the one who opposed my appointment during our last meeting. He must hold a high position, given that he was able to voice his opinion to Captain Kishibe.
Well then...
There was no need to look around. It was a small, empty room.
Despite being called a "data room," there wasn't a single file or even a shelf. It was like an empty room right after someone had moved in, with only a square office desk in the center of the bleak, cube-shaped space. The two important figures in question were sitting on one side of it, silently urging us to sit down.
I sat down on a folding chair.
I was handed a single photograph.
It was a face I knew well.
"Veronica..."
A girl with translucent white skin, flowing blonde hair, and clear blue eyes.
The photograph, which was likely taken from a high vantage point, shows the daughter of a classmate I will never forget.
The location appears to be a harbor. It looks like the person has just disembarked from a small boat, and you can clearly see what's under the hood they're wearing.
"this is?"
"Remember that route you used when you stowed away before? We set a trap there and you got caught."
The photo wasn't particularly clear, but there was no mistaking the girl in the picture.
It's clearly Veronica.
"Do you know them?"
"She's one of the people in the secret room. Her name is Veronica. It should be in the information I provided the other day."
"Then let's get straight to the point."
The man with glasses lowers his gaze to the clip file in his hand. With a stern expression, he flips through the documents one by one.
"...So this is her. Veronica, the named guinea pig. A candidate for Bomb adaptation, she made it to the final selection. Her physical features certainly match the photo."
Kishibe adds further details.
"If you stowed away here, you're not here for fun, are you? You're on a dangerous mission, just like you were. Well, I have a pretty good idea."
Kidnapping or assassination?
The target would be either Denji or Nayuta. Or perhaps Reze.
"What kind of guy is he?"
"He's quite similar to me. His close-quarters combat skills, marksmanship, and intelligence skills are all excellent. It's strange for me to say this, though."
"What about Japanese?"
"I'm fluent. As long as I don't show my face, I'm no different from the locals."
Otherwise, you can't be an agent.
Kishibe let out an exaggerated snort.
"You have a striking face. You could be a model. If you walked around town, I'd recognize you right away."
Her distinctly foreign features are a weak point. Her Slavic features are too striking in the Asian market.
"—What are your abilities?"
The man with glasses gives me a sharp, intelligent look.
"The demon transformation project was underway in that secret room, wasn't it? If so, we should assume this guy has also undergone the procedure."
The man with glasses points his finger at Veronica's photograph.
"Look. He's wearing a hood. That means he's likely trying to hide his head, the demon's distinctive features."
I definitely agree. Veronica must have become a demon.
But I don't have an answer to that.
"I don't know."
I wasn't lying. I said it confidently, looking them in the eye. I really didn't know.
"We, the inhabitants of the secret room, are unable to contact each other after an experiment or procedure, regardless of its success or failure. We are moved to a different residence. This is probably to prevent information leaks in case a traitor like me emerges."
"..."
"In fact, I didn't even know she was alive. To be more precise, I didn't know whether or not she had been implanted with a piece of the devil's flesh."
"Hmm, fine. For now, it's best to assume he's transformed into a demon. ...So, what else? What do you think he'll do next?"
"It's about lying low, gathering information, and then making an approach after preparation... I suppose. Of course, I'll tell you what actions you can expect, but... I think it would be difficult to do any of them alone. You should start by looking for collaborators."
"We're keeping an eye on your collaborators... but there's been no movement so far."
"There must be another way. There must be collaborators I didn't use when I was in charge, people I don't even know about."
"...Good grief. Japan is far too vulnerable to espionage."
It reminds me of Veronica.
A girl who possessed almost the same abilities as me, and who harbored hostility towards me.
I was competing with her for the right to obtain Bom's heart. Our abilities were evenly matched. But I never considered her a rival.
This was because she possessed a fatal flaw for an agent, one whose actions and words required delicate consideration.
"Um, can I ask you just one thing?"
"What?"
"I'm making sure to tell you this clearly so you don't complain later. Please also make sure to record it."
I felt I had to say this.
"There's a reason Veronica failed the final selection. It's because she's cruel. She would do anything unless it was forbidden by order, and more than necessary. That tendency was completely unsuitable for a spy. That's why she failed. Do you understand—"
I paused for a moment, then took a light breath.
"Her specialty is interrogation. Do you understand what that means? If you get caught, you're dead. She'll probably try to abduct public security officials to gather information. Be on high alert. Even veteran devil hunters should stick to a two-person team."
I even went so far as to say that a three-person team would be preferable if possible.
"Yes, let's come up with a plan."
Kishibe answered that way, but in his heart, he thought it would never come true.
To stop Veronica's clandestine activities, it would be necessary to restrict the private lives of all public security officers. Such unprecedented tyranny would not be tolerated in this country.
I think this has become a troublesome situation.
I can't believe it had to be Veronica of all people.
Probably, someone's body will be displayed soon.
And then, I glanced at the photograph on the desk.
Veronica's lips were slightly turned up. A faint smile—it was clearly discernible in the photograph.
It was an unbelievable story.
We, the inhabitants of this secret room, are trained as spies. While it might be understandable for an anonymous, inexperienced guinea pig, Veronica, who survived until the final selection round, could not possibly make such a childish mistake.
She is being photographed on purpose.
For what purpose?
That was a foregone conclusion.
She viewed Reze as her rival and hated her for taking away her rights as a Bomb Adapter and bringing her down.
In other words, this is a declaration of war from Veronica.
I shared all the information I knew.
When I get back, I'll have to tell the two Hayakawa family members to be on guard. I thought to myself as I left the fourth archives room.
I walked down the corridor and went down the stairs one by one.
A hulking man with a crew cut was standing on the landing.
It's glaring at me.
"I have a junior from my high school who's a manga artist, and we sometimes eat meals together."
What's going on all of a sudden?
The man with the crew cut stood with his arms crossed, his face sullen.
"That guy, you know, he listens to my boring stories with such enthusiasm, and when we're shopping, his eyes light up and he takes notes, saying, 'This could be material for a manga.' I get the feeling that this is the kind of guy who's going to become a creator."
What was he trying to say? I could pretty much figure that out by reading the emotions that were seeping into his tone of voice.
Dissatisfaction. Irritation. Disgust.
I see. In short, this is just a complaint.
"She's stopped smiling completely for a while now. She looks like she's at a wake all the time. What do you think is the reason?"
"here we go"
"My friend, with whom I promised to create a manga series together in the future, has passed away."
"Huh?"
"Apparently, they've been together since elementary school, and they even collaborated on a manga and won an award."
"Is that so?"
"He didn't do anything wrong, but he died. Don't you think that's sad?"
"...That's so sad. That's all I can say."
"You're the one who killed him."
I had a feeling that would happen.
I had anticipated this. I was mentally prepared. So there's absolutely no problem.
"Those terrorists who were wreaking havoc all over the city seem to be having quite a good time now."
"Does it look that way?"
"Hey, there's just one thing I want to ask you. What do you think about the people you've killed?"
"That's so sad."
There's no other way to put it.
"I was working too."
The man's eyes narrowed.
"Hmm, is that so...? Well, you know? I thought you were some kind of Terminator, a genuine killer created by the Soviet Union. But you're just going to high school and hanging out like a normal person. I was wondering what you were thinking."
"Well, yes."
When I was in my home country—
To begin with, I never had the opportunity to chat with ordinary people who would vent their resentment. The only time I would get involved was when I was going to kill them. So the only people who would vent their emotions on me were either my own kind or instructors who were just observing my reaction.
At that time, all I should have done was demonstrate how calmly I could handle the situation.
But now, I don't know how to respond...
I don't know.
Since I didn't know the answer, I just gave them a straightforward response.
What am I thinking?
How can someone kill another person and still be so calm?
"Are you familiar with the concept of 'conditioning to kill'?"
"a?"
"Humans are built in a way that prevents them from killing other humans. But even that can be overcome if you follow the right steps. First, a scarecrow. Then animals. A military dog that you've raised yourself. A death row inmate. An enemy. An enemy. An enemy. A stranger. A stranger. A stranger. A person you know. A person you know. A person you know. A close friend. A close friend. A close friend. That's how you build up the steps and the number of times. Once you get used to it, humans can do anything. You can kill even if it's not necessary, as long as you have the order, or you can kill even without the order, as long as it's necessary. That's what I've become now. I'm used to it. So when people ask me how I feel about killing people, all I can say is, 'It's sad.'"
"Wha..."
What exactly did the man in front of me, who was flustered by the unexpected counterattack, want to ask?
What kind of response were they expecting?
And did they seriously think they could elicit such humane words from a former Soviet agent, just as they had hoped?
If that's the case, he must be a kind person at heart.
That's why I end up asking this question. And Japan, a country where such questions are allowed, must be a good country.
They are different from me. They are different from us. And they are fundamentally different from my homeland.
"I see. It looks like they're playing, but it's all work. I completely misjudged them. Wow, they're incredible. Soviet-made agents."
"Thank you for showing me around."
A single raindrop landed on the windowpane. Tiny droplets, about the size of a bean, began to fall in layers.
Outside the window, a crow was soaking wet and cawing loudly.
A bomb loses its power if it gets wet.
Veronica had been waiting for this rain for a long time.