I remember how I felt when I first took a life.
The demons known as Fear and Regret dragged me deep into the darkness. For days, I mourned. For weeks, I wept. For months, I couldn't look at my gun or carry its weight. For years, I wished she were still here.
Things are different now. Different in ways that I wished I could undo. The feeling I felt when I took a life was no longer fear. No longer the bitter taste of regret. Humans live to die; how we die is up to the choices we made in life. Sometimes even the Goddess played her hand in our demise. That was what I believed.
Maybe that was why I no longer felt anything when I killed.
"Here should be fine." I snarled, peeking around a building's corner. The moments of dawn were edging near, yet here I was running. My eyes were growing heavy, but there was still more I needed to do before I could sleep. That artifact those crooks had felt warm in my pocket. I needed it examined, but talking to Margaret now would only end in catastrophe.
Why are you running?
The voice of that thing…me…called out. It never abandoned me since the alley. But seeing it in the empty street with its mocking grin wider than its apparent face only made me realize how fast my heart was beating.
Its silvery eyes peered at the object that was in my right hand. A blade. I held it tight while running from the scene of the crime. A blade that dripped with crimson blood from the tip, with pink bits of flesh crammed in between the gears.
Why should you run from justice? The goddess brought you there for a reason.
"Shut up…" I said in an inaudible murmur. I felt the metal handle of my blade dig into my palm. Something wet raced down my wrist.
That thing just laughed. Laughing at me with my own voice. I hated it. I hated this! Why won't it disappear? I took my meds, so why? WHY!?
Please…Forgive yourself ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇.
"SHUT UP!" I snapped. How dare it! "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK MY NAME WITH HER VOICE!!!"
"EEK!?"
The sudden voice startled me. I looked back at the misty figure that haunted me, and there was an unmistakable frown plastered on its face. It then vanished, leaving a woman in its wake.
Who was she? How long was she here?
I clutched my blade, but I lost the will to lift it.
"…"
"…"
We stared patiently at each other. Her eyes darted from location to location, scanning every inch of my person. I could not blame her, given that I am covered in blood. But she herself was not any less suspicious.
She wore a coat that was larger than anything I had ever seen. Like straight out of an old detective comic. On her head was an aged bowl hat that seemed to have been ripped from a junkyard. And the icing on top was the oversized sunglasses on her face.
She does realize that nobody in the Middle or Lower Core needed to wear sunglasses, right? Or was she just lacking a few screws?
I noticed that below the large trench coat, her legs were shaking. But despite that, she took a step forward, reaching out her hand to grab mine. It was soft, trembling ever so slightly. With the distance closed between us, through the dark lens, I could see her unwavering eyes.
"You are a fixer, are you not?"
Fixer. I suppose she was not wrong to call me that. Though if anything, I still consider myself on the right side of the law, even with all my vigilante actions.
I guess it would be harder to say that if the world knew that their hero, Golden Steam, went around killing crooks.
I pulled my hand away from the woman and placed my blade on my back. "If you need a fixer, turn to the church. Judging by your strange and clearly suspicious getup, they would be willing to lend a hand."
"Urk!" The woman stepped back and examined herself. "Really? I thought this wouldn't draw attention."
Yeah…she's got something loose upstairs.
"However, they are not an option for me to rely on." With a direct look, she spoke to me.
"…"
It was hard to turn a blind eye to this woman. I found myself connecting her voice to someone I recognized, or at the very least, someone whose image had crossed my path.
"I can't turn to them." The woman grabbed my hand. My effort to pull back again was interrupted as I stopped myself midway. Her grip was tighter, and her hands no longer shook. It was then that I realized that my own heartbeat was no longer hastened. "If I did that, they might—no, they will send someone after me."
Someone is hunting her? I mean, getup alone, she looks like she could do no harm. Then again, she sounds young, so maybe she's running from some crook who wouldn't take no for an answer? Or it's possible she missed a crucial payment for a significant loan.
Man, sometimes I really hate my job.
I lamented the thought of not refusing her request, all the while hearing approaching footsteps from behind. The woman winced, her eyes darting about with nervous energy. It annoyed me that she found a random passerby more frightening than me, who was soaked in blood. But I could not linger too long. Neither of us could be seen in the open.
"Hey, babe," I wrapped my arms around the woman as two people turned the corner. She let out a confused noise as her face turned a light shade of pink. "Work at the paint shop was rough. How about we get some drinks and complain till we drop?"
I covered the woman with my own body and waited until the passerby left before looking around. Then I grabbed her hand and practically dragged the dazed woman into an alley. As we moved, I heard the sound of something clattering onto the ground. Yeah, thinking about it, it might have been way more suspicious, but nobody was around to see it happen.
"Sorry about being rough," I said while scanning the alley. "But—wait." I turned to face her, but found myself lost for words. The woman was hiding her face with her hands. I approached her and grabbed her hands.
"W-wait!" she said, but it was too late.
"You…" This had to be a joke. Why? Why has this been a night of impossible coincidences? "You're Kelly Frost."
Tears welled up in her blue eyes. While holding her hands, I could feel her pulse quicken.
"P-please." The woman said, "I-I-I'll do anything. Just protect me."
"This reeks," I said bluntly. Kelly looked at me blankly as I stepped away. I reached into my pocket and produced the wallet that man had tried to give me. Inside was a photo of a woman with brown hair, looking to be in her late twenties, holding a little girl.
This woman, Kelly Frost, also had brown hair and looked to be in her late twenties. I could see how those crooks could mix up the two. But that being the case, and her desperate plea just now, I could not help but shake the feeling that this woman was in more danger than I imagined.
And unsurprisingly, it was my fault.
"You looked underground, didn't you?" I said, the woman flinched at my question, but she did not make any attempt to answer. So I moved closer, and she averted her eyes in shame. "You found the room of bodies." There was no reaction. I clicked my tongue. "You found a room where there should have been bodies."
"You know something about it…" she said in a shrunken voice.
"Man…" I sighed. "You dug yourself in deep." I then grabbed her hat and took it off. Startled, she met my gaze, her expression a jumble of bewilderment. "If you are gonna travel with me, take off the party costume."
"Wait, you mean you'll take my job?" Her eyes gleamed.
"You said you'd do anything, right?"
The moment I spoke those words, I could see her visibly shudder with fear. She clenched her trench coat tight and stepped deeper into the alley. This was a misunderstanding I could live with; after all, what I have planned is way worse.
Looks like today, Margaret's not gonna kill me. A smile crept onto my face, and Kelly looked as if she were about to pray for her own safety.