Chapter 53
The smell of blood tickled Arno’s nerves. His long experience told him this was no illusion.
The horse was still agitated and snorting. Fiore spoke to Arno, who was holding the reins tightly.
“Can you let go? That guy was playing alone and went back into Madame’s management office on his own.”
He knew. The horse had been roaming freely like that throughout his time in the village. But Arno gripped the reins like a lifeline and said,
“This guy caused trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“For some reason, he got excited earlier and broke the fence. Up there, on the upper side.”
“That quiet one? What could have provoked him? Did someone pick a fight for no reason?”
“Anyway. I wanted to apologize to you. You’re the one responsible for fixing the fence, right?”
“Haha, with your bare hands?”
“…”
Arno was at a loss for words.
Usually, he would have joked right away.
Maybe I’ll buy him a drink later? Oh, wait, I can’t even go to a tavern. If he’s okay with sitting with me, I could make something delicious…
But the sentence formed reflexively didn’t leave his mind.
‘I can’t even joke about sitting across from that guy.’
Why hadn’t he realized until now that most of that guy’s teeth were sharp fangs?
Arno took a deep breath as quietly as possible and steadied his voice.
“I’m sorry. That’s all I can say.”
“Just words don’t really explain much. Are you busy now? If you have time, show me around.”
Fiore took a step forward.
“From the perspective of someone managing the fence, it’s basically a border. It’s huge.”
“Yeah, I guess. It was so big I was surprised when I first saw it.”
“You broke that huge thing knowing I’m the only one managing it? That’s really harsh.”
His dark brown eyes curved playfully, as if seeing right through Arno. Even the lightest predator’s joke could snap a prey’s waist in an instant.
‘Bloodstains…’
Bloodstains gleamed vividly on Fiore’s sleeve as he stepped closer.
Arno had been through countless battles. He had killed people and nearly been killed many times. Because of that, he was confident he could handle most messes without blinking.
But how was he supposed to deal with a guy who smiled right in front of him, showing bloodstained teeth without hiding them?
‘What the hell did you do, you bastard…’
“Show me around.”
The plan was to take Fiore to the fence and kill time. Compared to Alice, who was walking into the tiger’s den on her own, this was a much safer role.
Still, Arno couldn’t nod right away. And at that moment…
“Neigh!”
The horse bolted. Just as Arno reached to grab it, the reins slipped quickly through his palm.
“Ah!”
His palm burned like it was on fire. Drops of blood started to bead up. Arno couldn’t even look at the wound. Hiding his wet fist behind his back was almost instinctive.
The playfulness vanished from Fiore’s eyes as he looked down at Arno.
“…You’re bleeding, Arno.”
“N-no.”
“You’re bleeding.”
Trying not to avoid his gaze, Arno felt around his waist. He had the hammer, but relief was far off. The rough handle poked at the wound on his right hand. Holding it tightly made swinging it properly difficult. And could he do better with his left hand?
Even if he did, there were many problems. The height difference made hitting the head hard. Should he aim for the ribs? If the guy flailed his right arm, the hammer would be blocked immediately.
While Arno was thinking, the man bent toward him. His eyes shone as if searching for fresh blood from the bloody man. Arno’s trembling left hand barely held the hammer’s handle. He realized too late that this movement was obvious to the man. Now there was no other option.
‘I’ll at least leave a scratch on your cheek!’
Just before Arno put strength into his left hand,
Fiore suddenly turned his head sharply.
“…”
Before Arno could properly raise the hammer,
“Get lost.”
“W-what?”
“Go inside properly, Arno, the fence breaker.”
Fiore immediately ran toward the direction he had been watching. His white shirt fluttered like a flag in a storm and he quickly disappeared.
After the man vanished from sight,
The hammer slipped from Arno’s sweat and blood-soaked hand.
“What the…?”
The situation was easy to deduce.
The direction Fiore was looking toward was west. That is, toward the sea.
Maybe he had noticed Alice had moved down the cliff.
This was a situation Arno should have taken responsibility to stop.
But what could he do now? Throw himself at that guy to catch him? If he did, his body would be crushed like under a tank.
“Huff…”
Arno gripped his arms with his sweat and blood-soaked hands. The trembling slowly subsided.
What he had to do next was clear. Go back to the lodging, treat his palm, and head to the clinic on time.
Alice would hopefully return safely. Either way, he could say, “I did my best, but Fiore ran off and there was nothing I could do.” That wasn’t a lie.
But before returning to the lodging, a question gripped Arno’s ankle.
‘What the hell was Fiore doing?’
Fiore had clearly come out of the thicket earlier.
Now was the only chance to check since Fiore had gone far away.
Arno took several looks beyond the open landscape to confirm Fiore’s large shadow was nowhere to be seen, then stepped into the thicket.
On the path, footprints easily over 30 cm long were clearly visible, making it easy to trace Fiore’s path. The careless steps reminded Arno of a carnivore marking its territory. Damn, he could almost believe this guy was a werewolf. He even hoped so. At least werewolves had known weaknesses.
As he moved cautiously, his first sense to be triggered was hearing.
Churp, tchup, tchup…
The sound was vaguely like someone sucking candy but strangely unpleasant.
‘I’ve definitely heard this before.’
The memory came back.
The day he and Alice returned to dispose of a corpse from the detention center after tricking a messenger to die.
The uninvited guests who sneaked into the detention center made exactly this sound.
They sat naked on the dirt floor of the warehouse, sucking blood soaked into the soil.
“…”
His guess was half right.
In a corner of the bushes, old and sickly creatures with patchy fur sat around a pool of blood enjoying a feast. Damn flies. But this time, what they stuffed into their mouths and sucked wasn’t worthless dirt.
From one creature’s mouth, a human finger trailed saliva as it was pulled out.
Nausea rose. But Arno’s experience stopped him from becoming weak.
“Get lost, you bastards! What are you eating now?”
Like Madame Adelaide before, Arno straightened his chest and swung his hammer. The threatening sound cutting through the air made the creatures scatter clumsily into the bushes.
Now reality lay before him.
“…”
The bloody corpse of a large man lay sprawled in the bushes. He smelled rotten, as if he hadn’t washed for a long time. The stench seeped through his dirty clothes, overpowering even the smell of blood.
If it were only this, Arno wouldn’t have been too shocked.
But the sharp bite marks that had chewed off more than half his lower jaw shook Arno’s sanity.
***
“The fatal wound was a bite between the lower jaw and neck… The left arm shows marks near the elbow. That’s why the hand and arm were separated.”
“…”
“The victim was probably the wanted murderer the guards have been talking about.”
All the features of the corpse pointed in one direction. The thick vest suitable for the weather, butcher knives, the brown beard growing unevenly under his chin as if he hadn’t shaved recently, and more… The serial killer who escaped the city probably didn’t imagine such a fate. But did he ever imagine dying like that?
Still, there was no reason or time to pity a serial killer.
Arno spoke with half-lost sanity in his eyes.
“I can’t stay in a place where man-eaters roam anymore.”
