A Grand Dream (2)
The hall fell silent.
They were finally grasping how serious this was, given how proud each nation was of its own military strength.
"He's broken through all twelve national guards and come right in. We should assume he can't be stopped."
In the minds of the world leaders, Kuan's status had risen to Havitz's level.
"No need to step out and draw attention for nothing."
Faced with a realistic threat of assassination, caution could never be excessive.
That, of course, had nothing to do with pride.
"Hmph."
Starting with the dragonlord's snort, the kings of the nations showed their displeasure. They were simply… relieved that the troublesome arrow was aimed at someone else.
Uorin glanced back at Havitz.
(Snore.)
The divine frequency was still active, and Kuan's sounds were probably being picked up even in his half-sleep.
"As expected, he won't wake."
The man who once cut his throat didn't seem particularly important to Satan.
"So that was it."
Uorin realized, for a moment, why he'd been able to let his heart rest on Havitz. "He holds no grudges." He must have had a life. The causes accumulated before his birth had made the Satan he was now.
"He doesn't think. Causes exist, but they don't affect him. The least human thing."
That's why he was so monstrous.
(Snore.)
If Satan dreamed, Uorin wondered what the scenes in that dream would look like.
Keira of the Corona Kingdom asked, "Does it bother you?"
Since Kuan had entered the hall, Armin had been fidgety.
"No."
Armin corrected himself. "Actually… yes."
He had set aside his feelings for Shiina, but she was still important to him.
"Don't get me wrong. That's not what I mean when I say it bothers me. It's because of Kuan."
Keira studied Kuan. "He's lost one ear. Doesn't look like a clean cut, though."
"Tearing the body's balance creates a psychological asymmetry," Armin said. "When he first cut off an arm it was to excise a schema—strictly speaking, it's a mental issue. Even when he took an eye, he wasn't constrained much by form. Now it seems enough to simply block the senses."
"That's a relief. Honestly, it's not my business, but from Shiina's perspective that must be terrifying."
"Quite the opposite." That was why Armin was concerned. "You can't tilt him anymore by cutting things. And yet he sat beside Shiina."
"…What else could he excise?"
"I don't know. Only he would know. But one thing's certain: he's made a decision."
He wouldn't hesitate.
And when he finally sliced off the last remaining half of whatever was left of him…
"What will Kuan become?"
All eyes were on him as Shiina kept glancing at the empty seat beside her.
Kuan showed no expression.
"Unpredictable," she thought.
She'd been excited at the idea of meeting Kuan after being chosen for the teachers' delegation.
"He never came to see me once."
Clearly avoiding her, he had stayed away from any place she was.
"Why change your mind now?" There was no answer.
"You've been avoiding me this whole time. You owe me at least a reason, don't you? I have pride, too."
Before Kuan could open his mouth, Shiina burst out in frustration. "Fine. Go back. Honestly, I was just about to let go of my feelings for you anyway." Kuan stood up slightly.
"Oh, come on."
Startled, Shiina seized his wrist and dragged him back down.
"Phew."
How had she gotten tangled up with such a stubborn man?
"All right. I won't ask why, but tell me later. Don't run away again."
She didn't mention his missing ear.
"He's a good man."
Even saying that might burden Kuan—she knew that.
"Shiina."
When Shiina turned back, she went blank.
The man who had been all hostility now smiled with an expression she'd never seen before.
"I like you. Truly." The sudden confession flushed Shiina's face; the teachers cleared their throats.
Shiina turned away in a panic. "Why now all of a sudden?" Kuan's face wasn't frightening, but a tremor of fear rose in her.
"He must have decided something."
Nervous, she made him promise. "All right. Promise me one thing. Don't ever leave like that again. If I want to see you, I should be able to."
Had he decided to die for her? Would he run off somewhere again?
A hundred thoughts swarmed her head, but to her surprise Kuan nodded.
"Yes."
She turned, wondering if she'd misheard, and saw conviction in Kuan's one eye.
"I will stay by Shiina's side." Shiina, who had watched him for a long moment, realized how her face looked.
"Oh."
Hiding her shy smile, she pushed her glasses back up and returned to her colder persona. "I'll be watching. This is your last chance…"
Kuan turned away as well, but the smile lingered on his mouth like an echo.
The chairperson stepped forward to handle the matter.
"We rule the previous speaker's remarks null and void, as they run counter to the Convocation's motto. The Convocation exists for world peace and will, as swiftly as possible, make an official proposal—"
The matter was wrapped up in an awkward atmosphere, and the heads of the Convocation's affiliated organizations briefed the assembly on the world situation.
Amira of the World Climate Organization reported on the demonic incursions across nations on the large screen.
"Emotion Sickness, mutations, tidal waves, heatwaves—the whole world is suffering disasters. In response, nations—"
A thousand side conversations drowned out the microphone.
"Seventy-five points. Pretty face, but that look in her eyes—no thanks. I don't like women like that."
"Oh, Prince. That style's bold. Look at the figure—stunning, right?"
A secretary who'd overheard the two scowled and scratched at her thumbnail. "Damn. Another jewel fell. We paid a lot for that. Would it be strange to look for it now?"
Amira switched the slide. "Mom! Mom!"
A child sat and wept where a tidal wave had swept houses away.
"Hundreds of thousands of war orphans; relief supplies are sorely lacking. Above all, we must build orphanages—"
"Oh, right. There's a royal banquet in the Arachne district around midnight. Will you attend?"
"Of course. Humanity's in crisis; shouldn't we do something big?"
"Indeed. There's barely any time to rest these days. The prince is working hard."
Seriel of the World Health Organization took the stage.
"Oh?"
The prince's gaze shifted.
"Good day. It is an honor to stand before the gathered heads of state. As you saw on the screen, countless people suffer. As a researcher of the World Health Organization, rather than broad explanations, I want to present one case of Emotion Sickness."
"Eighty-five points. You passed."
Seriel opened a file. "Less than ten days ago, this horrific tragedy occurred." Emotion Sickness case number 9-674.
"Ahhh!" A man screamed, tied to a chair.
"Dad! Dad!"
"Don't come!"
As the analysis of Emotion Sickness neared its end, households that hadn't received help already knew what would come next.
"No! Never!"
Unable to bear it, some forced themselves into a state where they could endure the pain.
"My family must never—"
There were many cases where people, unable to endure the pain, killed their families for a momentary release.
"Ahhhhh!"
It hurt so much; the man's skin, tied with rope, was torn raw. The nail driven into the chair's floor trembled.
"Go! Don't come!"
Even as his consciousness blurred from the pain, he did not regret his choice.
"I must be bound."
He was the man—the strongest of them.
"That's it. This will do."
At that moment the locked door slammed open and two children and a mother rushed in, crying.
"Dad."
A knife in their hand.
"Dad, it hurts so much. It hurts—I think I'm going to die."
After months of suffering, the family had already lost any semblance of humanity. The man—"I love you."
He smiled and nodded.
"Three days after losing their head of household, when Emotion Sickness struck again, the family slit their throats."
The room fell solemn.
"What fools. They could have believed in Satanism."
Seriel's voice had gone hoarse. "Do you think this is an extreme case? There are still backward regions with no information and no relief."
"The more I see, the better," the prince murmured. "Nice, eighty-seven points." His words drifted into the air; Fermi turned his head. Seeing the cold look, the prince mouthed, What, you brat?
Fermi glared at him for a long moment, then looked away and muttered. It was a curse.
Manolka, king of Keshia, shrugged. "Ha! I never thought I'd see you show emotion. Leave him be. He's bored because there's no decent food yet. You're the same."
"Get some sleep."
"World peace? Humans can't even secure their own peace of mind. They're never satisfied and always complaining. I'm dying to go to the toilet—do you think that clip will catch my eye?"
"Just sleep."
"What, do you have something going on with that girl or something?"
Fermi shut his mouth.
"Leaders of the world! Please provide more support for humanity!"
"Damn, everything comes down to money."
"Don't lose your beloved families! Don't lose human dignity in any situation!"
"If I get a bonus I'll pay the loan, give something to my mother, and move where the kids can get a good education—"
"Keep your precious memories, relationships, and love intact!"
"The more of you who join, the more we can change the world! I implore you!"
"If everyone speaks soon, the angels' staging is important. First, check Kshan and—"
Seriel slammed the podium. "Please unite your will!"
"Bra—"
Just as Gis was about to leap to his feet in applause, a deranged laugh echoed through the hall.
"Ihihihi!"
The atmosphere chilled; everyone turned toward the sound.
"Kuk kuk, kekekeke."
Havitz was twisting his neck and desperately stifling laughter.
"Oh, sorry. Sorry. Uhuhehe!" Seriel swayed.
"What's so funny?"
"That's not it, kukukukuk!"
"What's funny, I asked you!"
Only after a lightning-quick shout did the air grow heavy. Havitz drew a deep breath.
"Hah."
He tugged at his beard and said, "Hmm. Truly tragic. So many people are suffering."
"That's what you laughed at?"
Havitz waved one hand. "No. That's sad. The reason I laughed is because of the people here…"
The divine frequency hummed.
"All right, I get it. Hard, difficult, life's like that. What I want to say is—"
Satan spoke. "What are you all doing here?" His gaze swept the assembly.
"Huh? Huh? Whoa?"
Some looked away, some stared straight at him, some burned with anger.
"Annoying."
To have your thoughts read.
Havitz shifted his gaze back, pointed at Seriel, and nodded deeply. "Acknowledged."
Then he rose and clapped his hands.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
Amid the dry sound of applause, Lupist muttered bitterly, "That was a close call."
The Convocation nearly fell apart.
"That's enough."
Shirone smiled and looked proudly at Seriel, whose makeup had run from tears.