Party venue where dressed men and women gather. They all wore masks, sitting in a row on one side of the long table and enjoying their meals gracefully. At the tip of the table, there is still a dripping stage of the drapes.
Eventually the lights go out and the spotlight illuminates in front of the drapes. Masked guests applaud simultaneously.
Illuminated by the spotlight were the early twenties and a captive man in the middle of the middle of the middle meat.
In both of those neighborhoods, two men in black with disappointed stature stand to solidify their sides, head to the guest seat, and they are both deeply drooling their heads.
The man in custody is named Changhiko Mamiya. Despite the circumstances in which he was being held, his eyes had a strong light of will and his mouth was tight. There is no fine dust in the way you are afraid of the position you are in.
Mamiya's restraint is lifted and he looks around. A dozen men and women dressed up in front of a table served with dishes, in the form of a twisted grin with their mouths peeking from the mask.
And myself on stage. He knows beforehand what this unusual situation means.
The drape rises to the top. A giant cauldron of transparency was placed on the dewy stage. From the bottom of the cauldron it is blurred with burners, and the oil filled inside is boiled down.
Moreover, on top of the cauldron, a naked girl was hung from being forced to hang a monkey, with a sad look at the man in tears.
"A new assassin of Junko Yukioka, unleashed for our formalin-pickled president! To save his lover, who fell into our hands, he came here to be the experimental bench of Junko Yukioka. Ah! The cauldron will be filled with boiling oil. Before he is tempered with his lover, can he help?
A woman in a tuxedo with a microphone on the stage announces with a pleasant smile.
Mamiya walks towards the cauldron. The string hanging his lover is suspended in a ceiling pulley, a substitute that can be manipulated from behind the scenes and moved to a safe position to unload, he is told beforehand.
But I also know that it can't be done easily. This is a show. The show sees Mamiya scratch her feet when she is held hostage by her lover. Depending on the outcome, a livestock feast to the effect that the lovers are brutally murdered and the guests will be happy to see it.
"The guest of the day is - the divine assassin, Shoreline - Rin!
A mix of expectations and surprises occurs from the guests' seats. Mamiya, who is not a resident of the back street, did not know the name of the person or anything, but as far as the reaction of the livestock in the passenger seat is concerned, I suspect he is a well-known killer.
But Mamiya did not cower. If you don't defeat me, you and your lover will die. The palace now has as much power as it can fight. I am confident that even professional killers can defeat it.
Suddenly appearing in front of the Mamiya was a beauty with long, long hair, with a pendant of a cross wrapped around a snake, lowered from her neck, in a black-crushed outfit all over her body.
Not exaggerated, in a space where there was nothing, she suddenly appeared on foot. I doubted my eyes for a moment, but I told myself that it was like magic, and I forcefully concluded.
"Lady, Fi!
Almost at the same time as the call, the flesh of the Mamiya underwent transformation.
My clothes start to peel and my whole body gets bigger than two turns. abnormal muscle protuberances far beyond that of man. All my hair falls out and my head is totally bald. There are several blood vessels appearing on bald heads and angrily distorted faces, making them look like gods.
Seeing the transformation of the palace at such a time, the girl on the cauldron was stunned with her eyes wide open. A twitch also occurred from the passenger seat.
Rin Kishibe wasn't even a little surprised to see how it was going. Without pulling the gun, but without standing, he is confronted with Mamiya while lowering the muzzle.
He raises a beastly roar, and Mamiya strikes with Rin.
Rin doesn't try to move. I didn't move until just before the other person approached me in front of me and my thick arm like a round too was shaken down.
Rin disappeared and Mamiya's arms scowled the universe.
A third twist coming from the guest seat. Mamiya looks around without knowing what happened. Rin has completely disappeared.
Shortly afterwards - just like when I first showed up, Rin showed up walking in a space where there was nothing.
At the front of the Mamiya, but a few meters from where Rin had been until then, he was slowly walking dressed with gunpoint aiming at the head of the Mamiya.
Mamiya solidifies into consternation and fear.
He understood. I think I'm going to die. I said I'm done here.
Gunshots sound. Blood and brains splash. Boiling cheer and drink. A sad scream of a girl leaking into a monkey basket. The sound of the pulley slipping. Oil splash. And another death. Livestock enjoying another death. Long lasting applause and applause.
(Why such a dangerous imitation? We should probably evacuate to subspace a little sooner. Where is the point of attracting even critical. Just in case)
My voice sounded. Only Rin - the voice of consciousness only heard in Rin's head.
"If you're a miscellaneous fish opponent, put a handful on yourself and fight, you'll be training. Assuming you're dealing with a stronger guy."
Rin answers by squealing in his mouth at the Lord of the Voice in his head as he holds his gun.
"I was hoping it would be Junko Yukioka's mouse, but it looks like it's pinky."
(Sounds like you've just been physically fortified. Maybe there was some kind of trump card, but I killed it before I saw it)
After a conversation that no one else could hear, Rin disappeared as she walked, as if she had even made a moment's journey from the stage. The audience applauds louder when they see it.
Rin appears as she walks onto the sleeve of the stage, shortly after she disappears from the stage. My client's appearance stopped in my eyes as I walked straight behind the scenes.
"That was an instant kill. As for the show, I would appreciate a little more pull. Well, it was great as a performance."
A well-widened middle-aged man in his mid-fifties appears before Rin and smiles. He is the seventh branch director of Formalin Pickled President, an organization that hired Rin as a caution stick, and his name is Makoto Okumura.
"I ask intrigued, but why did they have to be killed now?
I knew it was a sublime organization that profited from having a murder show with people bought out of human trafficking, but Rin had an instinct and wondered if the two people killed this time might be a different case. I thought it might be a personal affair in this Okumura.
"A woman is just a whore. He's a weak prostitute, so he can't fight a big organization like ours where he killed him. I used to make it my type because I preferred it, but when I said I would make it my exclusive mistress, say no to me that I already have a lover. Besides, he was prostituting himself to the cost of treating the difficulty a man has, and he's got a nasty tear to tear about. I was angry, so I took the woman, and I urged my girlfriend, the man, to go to the Yukooka Institute. He said," If you want to help, use it as an experimental bench and get modified. "And now I've traveled to heaven amicably in your hands. Ha ha."
He spread his nasty grin to the full, and Okumura let him speak with pleasure, without shame, on the contrary. Rin's hunch was right.
"Do you usually kill street dwellers for that reason? You don't think it's gonna matter if I find out?
"I'm fine because I'm trying not to find out. And you must be the one who killed him. At least for men. Oh, could it have hurt my conscience to listen to what I'm saying? Or is your anger getting boiling against me?
"Nothing."
Rin returns that briefly to Okumura, who stirs it in a tiny tone, slipping through the side of Okumura without further conversation and leaving behind the scenes.
Rin's words are not lies now. I don't blame my conscience at all, and I don't remember my anger at Okumura. It's just that such a sort of discomfort boiled a little like seeing dirty trash fall down the road.
(Nice place for a bastard. You can't die like that, that one)
But the other one in Rin was revealing his anger.
"You have no choice but to have a powerless man die. No matter what kind of bastard, a powerful man has the right to ravage a powerless man. Besides, the two of us now saw no black light or black flames. I don't care how much that's dead."
Talking, Rin remembers the boy he saw at the shooting range before coming here.
"That kid was glowing black in a nice way. He's the one who wants you to get the strength you deserve. I wish I didn't die easy."
He muttered with words that only led to himself and the other one inside him, and Rin zeroed his smile.
The President Pickled Hormaline also distributes online the contents of the show in which he entertains business, and those who are registered can pay a high browsing fee to watch the brutal murder show.
There are many evil hobbyists out there who want to see snap footage even after paying a fortune, and members are all over the world. The story is that money falling online is more the main income of a formalin-pickled president than an audience that takes you straight to the business.
"Don't get your chest sick, as usual. I want to kill you with no one left in the organization."
Rin kills Mamiya, and True watches Mamiya's lover get killed live on the internet, so he throws up.
"If I killed you, it would be mercy, so you wouldn't have used it as my experimental bench -?
Junko sitting next to her true in the same bench and watching the show on the same display teases her.
I glance at Junko with a truly heartfelt but reprehensible look and take a seat.
"Oh, wait a minute, True you. I just got an e-mail at a good time to volunteer for the experiment bench. Come on. I think the kid will be here soon, so don't interrupt me. Looks like he's got a pretty serious situation."
I was stopped trying to get out of the room, and True looked back at Junko.
"If you're a guy with serious circumstances and you want power, I won't even bother you. You could die on a guy like that. You're gonna run a terrible human experiment, right? And yet, isn't it strange how you tell me not to disturb you because you have serious circumstances?
"Haha, that's true. They took one."
Junko laughs innocently at true allegations.
"Later, this may not matter, but I'm like the middle school kid you used to go to. At your age, it's just like when True fell into the back street."
"Finally, two inside"
"It sounds like you two are coming. One is an escort, and one child wants power."
"You don't mind if I show my face later, do you?
"Fine."
True to hear you two and get a little interested. There is mostly one experimental bench applicant who comes here. In the meantime, I was concerned that one person was an escort rather than an experimental platform volunteer, which is a rare case.