Black Bullet - Volume 2 - Chapter 3.3

3

She slammed the desk with all her strength, and beakers and flasks jumped noisily.

“No! Hell no!” The queen of the basement, Sumire Muroto, was livid, with her lab coat trailing behind her as she paced inside the basement room.

Rentaro had a faint idea of what would happen, but this was a reaction way beyond what he had imagined. This was probably the first time he had ever seen Sumire so worked up.

Using her own authority, the Seitenshi had printed out information about Tina Sprout and her rank and given it to Rentaro. On that piece of paper, Tina’s Promoter’s name was also printed out.

Rentaro remembered hearing the name before.

“Ain! Have you fallen so far, Ain Rand?!” Sumire shouted.

Rentaro said, “Then this Ain Rand is that person you were talking about after all, Doc? Your—”

“Yeah, that’s right. There’s no mistaking it. Someone who was once called one of the Four Sages with me, as hard to believe as that is.”

“W-wait a minute, Doc. Why are you so angry?”

“How can I not be angry about this? He’s sold the last pride he had as a doctor to the devil. Rentaro, how did you end up getting the surgery for the New Humanity Creation Project?”

“That was…” When Kisara’s parents were eaten by a stray Gastrea, and Rentaro protected her, it resulted in his right arm and leg and left eye being eaten. Near death, he was brought to Sumire’s lab.

“In other words, you had only two choices: undergo the surgery and live, or die,” said Sumire.

Rentaro lifted his face with a start, and Sumire nodded once before continuing. “Kagetane Hiruko was the same. He sustained a serious injury to his internal organs, and he was left with only two choices: undergo the surgery, or wait for death. The four of us, including Ain and me, swore one thing before establishing the mechanized soldier project in our respective countries: ‘We are doctors first and scientists second.’ Of course, that was because of the extremely low success rate of the surgeries, but more than that, we wanted to respect the wishes of the patient, and we did not want to forget our respect for human life. After hearing that, I’ll ask you this, Rentaro. Have you ever heard of one of the Cursed Children sustaining so grave an injury that she was near death?”

Rentaro shook his head. In exchange for having shackles on their lifespans called corrosion rates, the Cursed Children had overwhelming muscle strength, agility, regenerative ability, and they did not get any of the diseases or impairments of normal humans.

Like how Enju did not die even after being injected with a lethal amount of anesthetic, the Gastrea virus inside their bodies was extremely sensitive to dangers to its host’s life and rendered foreign objects nontoxic. In reality, Rentaro had never even seen Enju catch a cold.

In other words, it was unthinkable that they would ever be in a situation where they only had the choice between surgery and death.

“You get it already, right, Rentaro? Ain, that brute, broke his vow and brought healthy Children into his lab.”

Rentaro was astonished. How in the world did Rand perform surgery on the Children? It wasn’t something Rentaro could wrap his head around then and there, and he shook his head.

Rand would have had to use Varanium scalpels, forceps, and other surgical tools to open their bodies. Of course, since Varanium inhibited their regeneration, using it to injure the Initiators would mean their healing abilities would drop significantly, as well.

As a result, wouldn’t the success rate be much lower than that of an ordinary person? Just how many dozens of Children disappeared into the operating room? No, how many hundreds?

Rentaro started to imagine the grotesque scene of Children’s bodies being opened and had to put a hand to his mouth. After all this time, he understood that that small assassin was standing atop a large number of corpses.

“Rentaro, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Ain Rand has pretty much no combat ability to speak of. I can guarantee that as someone who worked with him in the past. They are pair in name only, and he probably isn’t more than the person giving commands regarding the assassinations. You don’t have to worry about him coming out into the front lines.”

“What’s the bad news?” Rentaro asked.

“Tina Sprout’s rank of 98 is something she is maintaining with her own combat ability and hers alone.”

Rentaro was shocked. The IP ranks given by the IISO, or International Initiator Supervision Organization, were called “IP” as an abbreviation of Initiator and Promoter, and they were based on their battle results among other things, calculated based on the combined total of the Initiator’s and Promoter’s combat abilities. If Rand did not fight, then Tina’s rank of 98 was calculated solely based on her own combat ability.

Was something that ridiculous even possible?

“Rentaro, that Initiator named Tina hit a moving target five out of five times from a great distance away, is that correct?” Sumire asked.

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Rentaro.

“If that’s the case, then I have an idea about the trick the enemy’s using to pull off that precision sniping.”

“Really?”

Sumire nodded once and pushed through piles of old documents on her desk to find an old-style terabyte disc, which she inserted into her computer. When she pointed the remote control at the wall to operate it, a screen slid down and connected wirelessly to the projector. Soon, there was a large image projected onto the screen.

Rentaro leaned forward, wondering what was about to start, but at first, he just saw a cold blue background with the words TEST 1 on the screen. The next instant, in a space as wide as a bowling alley, a stocky bald man who was blindfolded appeared on the screen. The picture was crude, and there was no music. It had been made in a very businesslike way.

Rentaro frowned. What was this?

The video changed to a shot filmed from behind the man’s back. That was when Rentaro first noticed the man had a handgun in his right hand, and that there were three shooting targets inside the room. It looked like he was going to shoot them blindfolded.

Rentaro didn’t dare blink in case he missed something. However, what happened the next instant completely surpassed what Rentaro was expecting.

From his navy blue jacket, the man pulled out three round, fist-size black Bits and threw them toward the ground. However, the Bits didn’t fall to the ground, but floated up and started circling over the man’s head without a sound. Finally, the man lifted his arm high and then brought his arm down, as if to say, “Go.”

In a moment, the plasma engines at the bottoms of the Bits ignited. They flew toward the targets with amazing speed. The blindfolded man lifted his right arm and fired three shots from his gun. The picture changed. The next shot was an enlarged shot to prove that the three gunshots went through the middle of each of the three targets.

Rentaro took a step back in shock. His brain couldn’t understand what he was seeing. What was this? Something like this shouldn’t be possible. This had to be some sort of special effect. If not, it was a problem. He turned back with imploring eyes, but Sumire’s stern look and crossed arms rejected that possibility completely.

“Thought-drive interface, a Shenfield. That is probably the trump card Ain has up his sleeve. Do you know what a BMI is?”

“Brain machine interface?”

“That’s right. The BMI is actually not something new in research. For patients whose arms and legs are paralyzed to control a computer cursor with only their thoughts when their brains are connected to electrodes is something that has been possible for over twenty years.

“The man in the video used an advanced version of that. With a neurochip implanted in his brain, he can control a number of devices with just his thoughts. Those Bits are like scouts. They have precise observation instruments installed, and they send information about the location of the target, including its coordinates, temperature, humidity, angle, and wind speed, wirelessly to the brain of the operator. That’s why that man could shoot through the targets blindfolded. Of course, the surgery the sniper underwent was not just for this.

“I have heard that shaking hands are also a great enemy to snipers. It is likely that a metal balancer was implanted in the body to completely shut down any movement to the hand from heartbeats or breathing. Putting something like that in is a piece of cake for someone like me or Ain. Rentaro, do you understand what this means?”

There was no way he could understand.

By making full use of this weapon, the Shenfield, the sniper could scout the enemy’s movements while concealed. That was a great advantage when sniping a human, and it probably made possible the amazing feat of hitting five consecutive targets a kilometer away.

But there, Rentaro had a question. If that was the case, that meant that last time, and the time before, when they were on guard, these black Bits were observing Rentaro and the others from somewhere?

Just then, something seemed to pull at his thoughts. When he realized what it was, he lifted his face and jumped over to Sumire’s computer. Ignoring the flustered Sumire, he turned the volume up to max and replayed the video from the beginning, staring at the screen.

The man fished the fist-size Bits out of his jacket, and the Bits floated and started circling. At that moment, Rentaro could definitely hear something that sounded like the buzzing of an insect, and his eyes opened wide.

This was it. There was no mistaking it. The strange sound he had heard during the last sniping and the sniping before that was this. Rentaro felt chills and rubbed his arms. Those Bits had been flying near Rentaro both times after all.

And Tina was an Initiator with the Owl Factor. She probably already had eyes that could see well at night, and her vision was probably much better than that of the average person. It was possible that Tina didn’t even use the optical scope essential for a sniper rifle when she operated hers.

The reason she was so tired when he saw her during the day was that she had a nocturnal animal factor in her body. There was no mistaking it. Everything made sense now, and all the mysteries were cleared up at once.

Rentaro finally understood. This was the ability of Tina Sprout, the superstrong Initiator specialized for sniping people at night.

“Research like this was being done almost ten years ago…?” he asked.

“I was also surprised when I heard about the sniper from you,” said Sumire. “Because I thought Shenfield was an obvious failure.”

Rentaro looked at Sumire, surprised. “What do you mean?”

Sumire frowned. “I mean what I said. This was a failure. The neurochip implanted in the brain gave off a large amount of heat and burned the inside of the subject’s brain. The man in the video also died in the end. Ain, you bastard, don’t tell me you completed Shenfield…”

“Doc, how many Bits can be manipulated at once?”

“Three. More than that and the brain is overloaded and the operator can’t handle it.”

Three… Rentaro crossed his arms and rested his chin on his hand, stroking his chin in thought.

Sumire sat down in a chair somewhere and narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Rentaro, what are you thinking about?”

“How to beat Tina,” said Rentaro.

“It’s impossible. Stop it.”

“Why?”

“Those with ranks under a hundred have sold their souls to the devil. It’s no exaggeration to call them monsters. It’s too early for you to overtake the hundreds.”

“Doc, that’s stupid! You didn’t say anything during the Kagetane Hiruko terrorist incident!”

“Of course not.” Sumire put her elbow on the armrest and put her chin in her hand, sighing. “During that incident, all the lives in Tokyo Area could have been lost. This time, it’s different. It might sound bad, but there would only be one life lost.”

“It’s not a matter of number!”

“It is a matter of number. It’s true that the Lady Seitenshi’s life is hard to replace with another, but even so, it’s not something that can be compared to all the lives of Tokyo Area.” Seeing Rentaro hesitate, Sumire tried to talk to him in a way he could understand.

“Rentaro, let’s do a simple calculation that even you can understand. Let’s assume that my New Humanity Creation Project and Ain’s NEXT have the same amount of hidden power. If we subtract the abilities of a mechanized soldier from you and that assassin, what do we have left? The unsurpassable wall between a human and an Initiator. Can a human beat a gorilla? Think about it carefully. Rentaro, just stay on the sidelines this time. There’s no need for you to take any more risks than you already have.”

Rentaro ground his teeth as he made a shaking fist. “Still, I…”

“Rentaro, science can make the impossible possible, but it’s not perfect. Science is the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge that humans ate that became the original sin, and we humans are descended from Cain, who was the first to stain his hands with murder. I am a doctor as well as a scientist, and I am proud of that, but I think scientists are the most sinful humans.

“Even I had a period when I thought to fill the world with peace and happiness with a bright flame. However, when my lover was killed during the Gastrea War, I fell easily to the path of demons. I didn’t know that humans could hate something so deeply. And the result of that was that I killed many patients to create an enhanced soldier like you. Rentaro, do you know why Varanium is black?”

“No…”

“My loathing has stained it black.”

Rentaro shook his head. “That’s not scientific.”

“But I believe it even now. And I sent you all into the world with the intent to slaughter and massacre. However, you alone I raised in a completely different way. Outwardly, your tone is sulky, but you are straightforward. That was when I realized it—My soul had been saved by your growth. When I had cried out after losing everything I had in the world, I was still connected to the world through your existence. When I hold the banked fire of that shining passion from that time, it is very warm. If you die, I will return to the darkness. Rentaro, don’t take the light away from me.”

“Doc…”

“Rentaro, what is happiness, anyway? I’m sure even you know that it’s not to be rich. If wealth and authority were the conditions for happiness, a multimillionaire wouldn’t take a gun and shoot out his own medulla oblongata. Rentaro, I believe that you are someone who knows your own happiness. And a person’s worth is decided once their coffin is closed. It’s not like you can’t see Enju and Kisara crying if you die, right? I would be sad, too, and regretful. Rentaro, you have it good. There’s no reason for you to speed up your death.”

Rentaro shook his head. “You’re a coward, Doc. You’re too good at persuading other people.”

Sumire smiled suddenly. “Yeah, it’s something I’m secretly proud of. Then—”

“No, even so, I have to go.”

“Wha—?” Sumire stood up as she braced herself, and yelled in a voice filled with anger. “What are you, a child?!”

“Then is giving up what it means to be an adult? Let me tell you, Doc. You’re wrong!” Rentaro stretched his right arm straight out and made a fist. “I want to prove it. I want to prove that this arm I got from you is to save people!

“Doc, I once saw hell. Ten years ago, on that day, mankind was eaten by Gastrea, devoured, torn to pieces, and if you climbed a small hill and looked around, the sky was burning no matter where you looked. It was a scene I’ll never forget. I kept trying not to remember it, trying not to think about it. But I can’t do that.

“Even if I am at the heights of happiness with Kisara in my left arm and Enju in my right, I’m sure I would keep remembering that hell and agonize over it. In order for me to put an end to that nightmare of despair, all I can do is to protect the Lady Seitenshi, defeat Tina, raise my rank, and bring to light the mysteries of this world. I can’t run away…!”

Rentaro fell silent and turned around, walking forward.

“Where will you go?” Sumire asked.

“Forward. Doc, I’m going.”

“You’re going to be killed… There’s no doubt about it. You will be killed! Hey!”

Rentaro didn’t stop his feet anymore as he left the basement room behind him. Sumire’s cries of “You will be killed!” echoed through the basement, following Rentaro until he left the university.

It was night outside. The cold air on his skin cleared his head.

Rentaro pushed buttons on his cell phone and when the person on the other line picked up after a few rings, Rentaro said, “The enemy can hit a target a kilometer away a hundred percent of the time with a sniper rifle. I can’t win the way I am now. If you know of some way to deal with an enemy like this, tell me!”

The person on the other line was silent for a moment.

Rentaro held his breath, shutting his eyes tightly in prayer as he waited.

Finally—

“Well, it’s not like I don’t have anything.” On the other end of the line, the daughter of the CEO of Shiba Heavy Weapons, Miori Shiba, laughed bewitchingly.