Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 8 - Chapter 1.2

Colorful, vivid spheres of light hovered in the air: red, orange, and dark green, each one orbiting at a different height.

“Incredible…,” muttered Albatross, overcome with surprise.

Adam was juggling billiard balls as if they were mere beanbags. Nine balls created different complex arches at different heights, making it look as if some sort of living creature were dancing in the sky.

“That definitely isn’t something your average street performer could do.”

“Incidentally,” Adam began as he continued juggling, his expression serious, “the numbers of the two balls in the highest position are always co-prime integers. In other words, the two highest balls never share a common divisor.”

Piano Man crossed his arms and scrutinized the airborne balls. “Hmm… Five and eight… Now four and nine… You’re right.”

“Huh? Co-prime…what…?”

“Albatross, seriously, learn some basic math. You’re gonna need it if you ever want to make it to the top,” Piano Man said, rolling his eyes.

The six young mafiosi sat on the pool tables around Adam and watched his performance.

“So this is your hidden talent, huh?”

“These are simple physics calculations,” Adam replied with a blank expression. “Gravitational acceleration, air resistance, moment of rotation, Coriolis force… I am simulating the constant physical quantities of matter and estimating the behavior of the billiard balls. A computer is far more efficient at such calculations than the human brain.”

“Uh-huh. Phew.” Albatross heaved a sigh. “I didn’t catch a lick of that. Did you?”

“I did,” Iceman answered, nodding.

“How ’bout you, Lippmann?”

“You’re the only one here who doesn’t get it,” noted Lippmann, eyes still on the juggler.

“And now, the finish.”

Adam then began tossing the billiard balls over his shoulder one by one at the pool table in his blind spot behind him. All nine fell into a pocket as if they’d been sucked in…and then there was silence.

“Ta-da!” Adam suddenly shouted as he held out his arms.

Everyone’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. The group looked at Adam, then over at the pool table, and then cocked their heads in confusion.

“Oh? I don’t hear any clapping. This contradicts the data in my external memory.”

“Hmm. It looks like he really isn’t human, after all,” observed Iceman, his expression unchanged.

“Heh-heh… Europe’s skill technology is even more impressive than I heard…,” Doc said with a grim smirk. “I would love to use that biotechnology to treat some of my patients… Heh-heh-heh…”

“Er… Allow me to introduce myself once more.” Adam faced the others and bowed. “I am Adam, an autonomous humanoid supercomputer secretly sent to this country as part of an investigation. I like acorns and grass seeds. I dislike the metal detector at airports. My dreams are to establish a detective organization consisting only of robotic agents and to protect humans with the extraordinary investigative skills unique to machines.”

“An all-robot detective organization? Why?”

“Because humans are flawed and illogical, of course. Perfect machines—such as myself—are far superior.”

“Well, this suddenly took a dark turn…”

“At any rate, I buy your story. You’re a machine. Got it,” began Piano Man. “But that still doesn’t solve our problem. We Mafia folks have no intention of getting friendly with a cop like you, machine or not. You saw some of our skills, if only for a brief moment. How can you say for certain that your agency isn’t going to learn something that might put us at a disadvantage?”

“You do not have to worry about that,” Adam declared with a smile. “My mission is only to arrest Verlaine. I have no obligation to report back with any other information I acquire, even confidential information about the Mafia. Technically, I could not even tell anyone if I wanted to because of how I was programmed.”

“Why would you be programmed that way?”

“I will explain when the time comes.” He was still smiling.

“He’s lying,” Chuuya said firmly. The group looked over at him.

“What?”

Chuuya glowered at them. “I don’t care if this tin tchotchke can keep a secret or not. I meant he was lying about something else. Verlaine, king of assassins? My elder brother? He’s just talking out of his ass, making shit up as he goes along. Paul Verlaine couldn’t possibly be after me in the first place.”

“Why’s that?” Piano Man asked, eyes on Chuuya.

“Because he’s already…”

Chuuya paused, then turned his gaze toward a past that could not be seen.

“He’s already dead.”

“What?”

Chuuya hesitantly began to explain.

The Arahabaki Incident one year earlier was actually a betrayal of epic proportions in which one of the Port Mafia’s sub-executives created a god. The root of said incident happened nine years ago at the end of the war.

The former national defense force was secretly researching an artificial skill-derived life-form known as Arahabaki, and two European agents plotted to steal said top secret information. These highly adept skill users—Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine—managed to steal Arahabaki without a hitch, only for Rimbaud to be met with misfortune the moment he and his partner, Paul Verlaine, escaped the military base.

Verlaine betrayed him.

Verlaine wanted to take Arahabaki all for himself, which led to a vicious battle between Rimbaud and him, both elite skill users. The light from their battle scorched the night sky, and the subsequent explosion shook the area. Their battle eventually ended with Rimbaud victorious, but that victory came at a price. First, he had to kill Verlaine, his best friend and the man he trusted the most, with his own two hands. And second, the intense fight between two top-tier skill users caught the attention of the military’s tracking unit. Rimbaud was surrounded within moments, already severely wounded from battle. Therefore, in an act of desperation, he had no choice but to absorb Arahabaki and use its skill as his own.

That was Rimbaud’s skill: the power to absorb someone and turn them into a skill. Although a transcendent skill, it completely backfired on him. He ended up breaking Arahabaki’s seal.

The military had sealed the monster away to prevent it from unleashing its true powers—powers that surpassed human comprehension. What Rimbaud had actually absorbed was not Arahabaki but the seal. As a result, the divine beast appeared in its true form, draped in all-powerful black flames that reduced everything to ash: the soldiers, the research facility, the surrounding land—whatever the flames touched. It was all gone. All that remained was an empty crater in the shape of a suribachi.

Rimbaud managed to avoid a sudden demise thanks to his skill, but he lost most of his strength and memories as a result. He wandered the streets until he was picked up by the Mafia and spent the next eight years slowly regaining his abilities and memory while he searched for clues about his past. And in order to fully regain his memories, he lured the real Arahabaki—Chuuya—into a trap and tried to absorb it as a skill. That was what led to the Arahabaki Incident one year ago. The ensuing battle between Chuuya and Rimbaud ended with the latter’s defeat—his demise.

“Huh?” an incredulous Albatross blurted out. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. That whole thing a year ago was the Impostor Predecessor Incident, right? I heard Randou was behind that. Does that mean he was a—?”

“Yeah.” Chuuya nodded. “He was a spy. Former spy, that is. That entire incident was just an elaborate trap to lure out Arahabaki.”

“I see,” said Iceman. “I always thought it was strange that Randou betrayed us. So that’s what happened…”

“I killed Randou.”

Chuuya stared at his fist. He seemed to be thinking back to that day.

“And right before he died, he told me about his partner and what happened to him. He had no reason to lie to me. Verlaine is dead, no matter what you say,” he insisted, turning his gaze to Adam.

“No.” Adam shook his head. His expression betrayed nothing. “He is alive.”

“What evidence do you have?” Piano Man leaned forward. He appeared to be getting a kick out of this.

“I can prove it, but doing so would violate my obligation to secrecy in regard to the mission,” replied Adam, the epitome of serious. “Only the individual concerned in this matter, Chuuya, is authorized to learn the details.”

“They’re already involved in this, too,” Chuuya added as he looked at the others in his group.

“Don’t worry about us,” Piano Man said with a shrug. “This issue is about your past. You’re the only one who needs to know.”

Chuuya tapped his lip with his index finger for a few moments in deep thought.

“All right,” he eventually replied before heading toward the pool hall entrance. The door was still ajar from earlier, so he wouldn’t have to open it before leaving…but instead, he closed it. A look of surprise flashed across the others’ faces.

“Yeah, this is my problem,” began Chuuya, standing in front of the closed door. “But if something like this happened to one of you guys, I don’t think I could just ignore it. I’d try to help whether you liked it or not; I bet the rest of you’d feel the same way. So, detective, spit it out and tell them, too, or I’m not gonna cooperate.”

The group stared at him, wide-eyed and impressed.

“Hey, did you guys hear that?” asked Piano Man.

“I did,” Iceman said with a nod.

“I forgot to turn on my tape recorder.” Lippmann gave a faint smirk.

“Tsk. On second thought, I’m just gonna handle this on my own.”

“No way, man! No take-backs! I’m not letting you out that door.”

Albatross slid behind Chuuya and placed a hand on the door, holding it closed before Chuuya could get out.

“I understand how you feel, Chuuya,” Adam assured him. “You value your friendship and make decisions accordingly. I suppose you could call this human nature. Very well. I will give up trying to persuade you and instead propose a different method.”

Something shot out of Adam’s elbows. Two anchored wires spun through the air before wrapping around Chuuya until the magnetic anchors on each side connected, binding his arms and legs.

“Uh?”

“Huh?” Chuuya blurted out, fully constrained, at almost the same moment when Adam hoisted him under his arm and leaped out the door.

“My mission is the priority. It is what you humans would call…”

Adam paused for a brief second to think before continuing.

“…one’s nature, I suppose. Therefore, I will be borrowing Chuuya for the next thirty minutes,” he announced before dashing off into the residential district carrying Chuuya as if he were a package.

The ground cracked each time Adam’s foot touched it when he jumped until he eventually landed on a residential rooftop, then ran some more. Before long, he sprang back into the air and landed sideways on the exterior of a three-story apartment. Adam continued to jump and bounce off buildings until he faded into the distance. Only the five young mafiosi remained in the pool hall, absolutely flabbergasted.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Albatross stared out the door. “Should we just let ’em go like that?”

“What do you want to do?” asked Lippmann while gazing outside. “Chuuya was just kidnapped right in front of our eyes. Isn’t this a problem?”

“Definitely a problem.” Piano Man’s reply belied his cheerful expression. “Let’s send a search party for him if he’s not back in thirty minutes. Until then, we drink.”

“If you say so,” Lippmann reluctantly agreed. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment earlier, so I didn’t get a chance to ask: Doc, do you think it’s possible for a skill user engineer to create an intelligent being like that?”

Doc’s sickly face gazed in bewildered silence for a few moments. “I wish he’d picked me up and carried me away, too…”

“Huh…?”