Rattle— rattle—
I'm pressing my head against the bus window right now.
Because of that, the bus's vibrations are traveling straight through my skull and into me.
"Puhh..."
The ticklish sensation from the shaking made me laugh reflexively. Had a few hours on the bus already driven me a little crazy?
If this were my old world, I'd probably be on my phone right now, but I don't have one of those.
Thud—
So they dragged me into a contract without my consent and couldn't even bring something like that along? I lightly bumped my head against the window, directing my resentment at the owner of my original body.
Ugh, this isn't the time for that. I should be gathering information and all sorts of things... except there's nothing to do.
Just a few hours ago, I would've been looking for information about this new world, or about this body.
But after I finished sifting through all the memories in my head, that became unnecessary.
All the information about this body was already there, and most of what I needed to know about The City was there too, so there was no real reason to keep digging.
And in a situation like this, with no phone to distract me, all that was left was boredom that would never go away.
...Should I try talking to someone else?
"Ugh, up!"
I got to my feet and started looking for someone who was awake. It'd be awkward to wake someone up just to talk to them.
Hmm... let's start with someone difficult.
"Mr. Vergilius? Where did you say we're headed right now?"
As soon as Vergilius heard me, he reacted sharply.
"Are you really going to make me say it three times, Saramago?"
Well, failure. Exactly as expected.
Still, wasn't it a little much to refuse to repeat something he'd said just a few hours ago?
While I was grumbling inwardly at Mr. Vergilius for no good reason, I noticed Ms. Rodion talking with someone.
Let's see, the other Sinner's name was definitely... right, Sinclair! A male Sinner with golden hair and a rather small frame.
Having remembered his name, I started edging closer to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"So, Sinclair. Is this really your first time working at a company?"
From what I could hear, the topic was a light one they both had some common ground in. But had neither of them noticed me?
A mischievous impulse kicked in. I quietly crept between the two of them and then...
"Boo!"
"Y-yes, I—aaah!"
Oh, that was a more intense reaction than I expected. That was louder than I thought—didn't wake anyone else, did it?
Tick... tick... tick...
Apparently everyone else was sleeping soundly. Relieved, I joined the conversation between Ms. Rodion, who had burst into laughter, and the startled Sinclair.
"What, Ms. Rodion isn't surprised at all. You knew?"
"Heh heh heh, of course I knew~ I stayed quiet just in case, but Sara's got quite the mischievous streak, huh?"
Sara? Was that what she was calling me? Somehow, I'd picked up a rather feminine nickname without even noticing.
"I-I was surprised!"
"Sorry~, your name is Sinclair-kun, right?"
"Yes, that's right..."
"So, so, Sinclair, how did you end up getting hired here?"
"Just... by chance, I guess..."
Sinclair seemed like a very timid kid.
Types like that feel like little animals, and it makes you want to take care of them.
Ms. Rodion seemed to feel the same way, because every time Sinclair answered, that pleased smile never left her face.
"Aw~ that's boring. Then what about you, Saramago?"
"Ah, I ended up here by chance too."
"Why are both of you being so boring~? Are you hiding something?"
...I really don't know, though.
"...Then what about you, Ms. Rodion? How did you... end up here?"
"I... have something I absolutely want to achieve."
As soon as the mood-maker, Ms. Rodion, turned serious, the atmosphere grew heavy in an instant.
Sinclair, what are you going to do about this mood?
"What's with everyone? We're all in similar circumstances. Hmm... this doesn't really feel like the time for more conversation, does it? Should we stop here?"
By tacit agreement, the two of them let the conversation die there.
Did this body also have something it wanted, like Ms. Rodion did? Like... eyes, maybe.
...A headache is creeping up on me. Maybe I should stop.
Forcing my curiosity deep down, I turned my eyes to find the next person to talk to.
And then I met the gaze of Mr. Vergilius, who was staring at me with bright, gleaming eyes.
"Eek!"
...I really should stop acting up.
After sitting back down and seeing Vergilius's attention move away, I had nothing else to do, so I decided to close my eyes for a bit.
If something comes up... I'll wake up again...
"Ver."
"There's an obstacle ahead. Can I go vroom-vroom?"
"......"
"Okay, let's just keep going through it."
"Yep. Rattle-rattle."
Crunch
Hearing that chilling sound, I woke from sleep.
"It's expensive cleanser. Ber said he really went all out."
...The front windshield of the bus was smeared with blood and chunks of flesh. Was that chilling sound the sound of a person being ground up?
Before long, the flesh clinging to the glass began dissolving under the cleanser Charon had mentioned.
From the perspective of my old world, it was a gruesome sight, but from the memories of this world, it was fairly common.
Then Dante, who had only been making faint ticking sounds until just now, began speaking with a normal clock's rhythm.
"Hey..."
"Wor... no, glasses-wearing fellow. Do you know where we're going right now?"
He was probably asking Mr. Gregor. The only glasses-wearing fellow here was Gregor.
"Wor... that means bug, right? Sorry to say this, Mr. Gregor, but the insect-like part making up your right arm stands out more than your glasses do."
I might have been horrified too if I'd seen him for the first time and tried to talk to him.
Gregor himself seemed well aware of his own condition.
"...You were about to call me bug-fellow, weren't you?"
"To put it another way, my name is Gregor."
"Just like you're called Dante, not clock-head."
Gregor spoke irritably, but he also seemed curious about where we were going, so he asked the bus driver in front, Charon.
"Hey, driver. Where are we going?"
At that, Charon answered as if she were imitating Gregor.
"To put it another way, my name is Charon."
"Just like you're called Gregor, not bug-fellow."
Hearing Charon mimic even Gregor's tone of voice, I couldn't hold back my laughter.
"Pfft... pff..."
Gregor was so stunned he didn't even notice me laughing.
"......"
"You got one over on him, Gregor."
Only after hearing Dante's words did Gregor seem to come back to himself, and he let out a helpless laugh.
"Haha, I didn't even get my money's worth."
Charon suddenly replied.
"...Ber said it."
"'The Sinners are going to District 4.'"
Don Quixote reacted explosively to that.
"Diiistrict 4?! Did you just say District 4?!"
"That place is famous as the birthplace of the young lady of green! The hero's footsteps began there. Indeed..."
How can someone's title be "young lady of green"?
What on earth did that person do to get such a bizarre title?
No matter how much the highest-ranked Fixers can only receive the title of a Color Fixer, built from two characters each for "color" and "trait" to make four characters total, "young lady of green" is still a bit much, isn't it?
Even Mr. Vergilius over there has the cool title of Red Gaze.
Did the person assigning titles have some kind of grudge against the young lady of green?
"You've been chattering away nonstop..."
"Could you shut up and be quiet?"
Heathcliff complained to Don Quixote in a rather rough tone.
"I've kept my mouth shut until just now!"
...Don Quixote really didn't seem to know when to read the room.
"Don't talk back!"
I knew this would happen.
"...Hey, do you know you're the louder one here?"
Ms. Ishmael objected to Heathcliff's raised voice.
But if you provoke him now, won't the fight get a little bigger, Ms. Ishmael?
"...Just because we come back to life when we die doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Say one more word and I'll smash your mouth in."
Yeah, this is usually how it goes.
But Ms. Ishmael didn't seem inclined to back down.
"I speak the truth, and what I get back is violence. Says a lot about your level."
"...Hah."
Just then, Dante stepped in to stop them.
"Everyone, excessive excitement..."
Swoosh
...What just happened?
"Ghk..."
"Kk...—..."
Roll...
I could only fully grasp the situation when their heads were rolling on the floor and the muscle tissue that seemed to be their vocal cords was scattered across the ground.
"Mofunjo."
"You've got to break their necks to make them quiet, you pig-like bastards."
Did he kill them? Really?
So suddenly that I froze and couldn't say a word.
I wish the chaos had ended there, but... unfortunately, the disaster wasn't over yet.
Thud
"......"
"Violence without reason cannot be forgiven! I shall punish you!"
Ms. Ryoshu's head exploded.
A massive spray of blood and what looked like brains and viscera splattered across the floor.
I feel dizzy. People dying here isn't exactly rare, but getting used to the innards of someone I was talking to just moments ago being scattered in front of me? That's rare.
While I was holding my spinning head together, I heard Ms. Rodion's voice beside Ryoshu.
"Ah~ I knew this would happen. You got blood on my clothes. Hey, do you really have to fight right next to me?"
Even with fellow Sinners dying beside her, Ms. Rodion didn't react at all.
"...What the hell..."
Right, that's the normal reaction. Not standing there blankly while someone's head bursts open beside you.
Maybe because I saw a reaction even more shocked than mine, I actually felt a little calmer.
"This is what happens when I look away for even a second."
"You four are cleaning the bus this month."
Vergilius didn't seem pleased that the Sinners were killing each other.
"Why! I merely carried out justice!"
Don Quixote... is that really what you're saying right now?
Then, as if she had something to say, Ms. Rodion added to Vergilius's words.
"Wait! Include washing my clothes too. Blood doesn't come out as easily as wine, you know. Tsk, and they were expensive..."
Should I get used to having conversations like that so casually?
...I don't really want to. If it goes that far, I feel like the mind I brought from my old world will be irreparably broken.
In any case, since it seemed bad for the Sinners to die, Vergilius looked at Dante and said, "Dante, would you turn the clock back?"
"Turn the... clock back?"
Maybe Dante had forgotten how to revive a Sinner?
"That expression means you're confused, I take it. I'll remember that."
Vergilius seemed to infer Dante's meaning from his tone and said that.
Then he pointed at Dante with a finger, calling out to someone who seemed to know the solution.
"Ms. Faust."
"......"
Faust let out a small sigh and approached Dante.
"I'm talking about what you did on the day we first met, Dante. Though back then, you probably did it by instinct."
"Now, let's try again. Close your eyes."
So that head can close its eyes too. It's a more functional head than I expected.
Well, I suppose that makes sense if nerves and such are connected to it.
Anyway, looking at Dante with his eyes closed, Faust explained.
"In truth, the door is everywhere."
"But only you can see it. Because the stars in your sky have not yet fallen."
After saying that, she fell silent for a moment.
Was she doing something? I had no way of knowing.
"Are you ready to share the pain?"
Was that a question for Dante, or an order to prepare himself?
As I wondered that,
the clock was turned back.
"...Aaaagh!!!"
Dante screamed.
And the more his scream intensified, the more the blood pooled on the floor surged upward in a spray, and the faster the bubbling grew.
In time with the blood, the viscera scattered across the floor also began to regain their original shape and crawl back into the body.
And then, at some point, Dante's scream cut off abruptly.
...What was Dante doing this for? For a moment, I felt a flicker of sympathy for him.
Soon after, the dead Heathcliff and Ms. Ishmael rose again.
"Mm..."
"...Ugh."
Ryoshu, still trying to hold onto the scraps of her returned consciousness, said to the two of them, "K... how does it feel to have your neck cut off and stitched back on? Thrilling?"
Then Heathcliff touched the area around his neck, muttered a curse under his breath, and walked toward Ryoshu.
"Wait, you revived them and now you're going to start fighting again?"
Heathcliff glared at Dante with eyes burning in fury.
"Isn't bringing us back your job anyway?"
"If you've done your job, then shut your trap before I smash that ridiculous clock-head of yours."
...No matter how you slice it, that's not something you say to the person enduring pain to bring us back to life.
Maybe because of the pity I'd felt when I heard Dante's horrifying scream earlier, I decided to step in and stop Heathcliff first.
"Mr. Heathcliff, no matter how you put it, isn't that a bit too harsh for someone who's enduring pain to save us?"
"R-right! Dante seems to be suffering, so maybe let's stop h—"
Heathcliff had been trying to endure it until I finished speaking, but when even the easy target Sinclair tried to stop him, his patience ran out and he swung his club before Sinclair could even finish.
...At both me and Sinclair at once.
By now, some of you may have guessed what happened. I'll naturally confirm that guess.
Yes, that was my last memory.
Dante side
"Ghk... ghk..."
"Kk... krrk..."
Unclear murmurs from someone whose life was fading away reached my ears.
Heathcliff, the one who caused that situation, looked at me and said, "Clock-head, next time I'll crush you. You understand that now, right?"
Even after hearing him, Ishmael, once revived, still mocked him.
"Honestly, they say you are what you look like, and you're vulgar to the core."
The face of Heathcliff, who had been wearing a faint smile just moments ago after killing two people, hardened in an instant.
"...Still not satisfied after dying once?"
He readjusted his club, and Ishmael's mace was also ready to swing.
...Was I really becoming the manager of people who couldn't be stopped even after dying and waking back up?
As I thought that, the atmosphere inside the bus suddenly sank so coldly it seemed to freeze over.
At last, someone capable of controlling them had stepped forward.
"Looks like I'll have to correct this properly."
As Vergilius said that in a low voice, the bodies of the two who had been about to fight froze in place.
"...!"
"......"
The two of them, who had been about to collide a moment ago, stopped where they were.
And between them, a red and chilling gaze fell like frost.
"First rule."
"No sound of weapons clashing is to be heard inside the bus."
"From this moment on, if this rule is broken."
"You'll be begging me to kill you."
"I'm more than capable of that. You know that, right?"
Only the sound of the two dying on the floor writhing remained.
Heathcliff glared at Vergilius with all his might, but he couldn't bring himself to argue.
"Dante, I'm sorry about this. Please turn the clock once more."
"You want me to do that again...?"
The pain I felt when reviving the Sinners is the kind of pain that might make begging to be killed seem preferable. I shook my head quickly.
Then Vergilius's expression changed sharply, and even the faint trace of a smile vanished.
"...You'd do well to open the door while I'm still apologizing and asking, Manager Dante."
Having said that, Vergilius seemed to infer something and, with a touch of politeness, continued, "Ah, if you're only afraid of the pain. If that's why you're shaking your head, I'll gladly help you."
"I'll make sure you won't even blink at that level of pain. Then, wouldn't you be able to endure it?"
Just then, Otis joined the conversation.
"Did I mishear that? It sounded like the Manager was clearly refusing."
"You... chose a poor moment to interrupt."
"When I was hired, I was clearly told my superior was the Manager, not you."
"If the Manager shook his head, I'd say the meaning was sufficiently conveyed."
Hearing Otis, Vergilius seemed to realize words would not be enough, and his red pupils burned even brighter as he threatened her.
"So, the aide is stepping in."
"Then I suppose I'll have to convey sufficient meaning to the aide as well."
As those red pupils deepened further, the chill intensified.
...What exactly is a manager supposed to do? I didn't even know whether I had the qualifications for it.
At the very least, I felt I had to stop this from escalating any further.
Reviving two people should hurt less than reviving all twelve...
"Otis... I'll turn the clock. It's fine."
Waving my hands to stop Otis, Vergilius seemed to understand and let the red in his eyes subside.
"A wise decision."
"...If the Manager says so."
Otis seemed about to add something, but soon closed her mouth and straightened her posture.
Then it was time to revive the Sinners.
I first blocked my vision.
Recalling what Faust had said earlier and focusing, I felt light seeping into my sight even though my eyes were covered.
I accepted that light with the sensation of opening my eyes.
What lay there was a space.
Only I was there, and before my sight stood a massive door.
Beyond the door, a terrible heat and cries still mixed together and poured through.
The endless lamentation and wailing, even on the second time, made my mind go distant just from hearing it.
And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I grasped the door handle.
When I pulled, the door opened easily despite its heavy appearance.
I groped inside the door. There were still thousands and tens of thousands of cries within.
And among them, I grasped the hands of two.
I could feel the histories of sin, each bearing a different brand, climbing up over my hands and forearms.
I pulled with all my strength on the sinners who had taken my hand.
With pain still beyond description, the clock turned back.