"Eh?!"
The massive blow left Sanson (Assassin) frozen where he stood, staring blankly at the gentle, loving expression on Black Marie's face and the soft tone of her voice.
She wore the exact same familiar look and spoke in the exact same gentle way he remembered… so why did every word feel like a knife twisting straight into his heart?
Black Marie watched him standing there stunned, clearly deciding it wasn't enough. She thought back to the cold shoulder she'd gotten from Adam earlier and the frustration still simmering inside her. Time to share a little of that mood with Sanson (Assassin). After all, he was their enemy right now.
So she kept going, driving the blade deeper. Still smiling that sweet, maternal smile and using that same tender voice, she said:
"Sanson (Assassin), if you were still the same man whose only wish was to make sure every person you executed left this world without pain, I might have faced your blade with genuine respect."
The moment those words hit him, the dazed helplessness vanished from Sanson (Assassin)'s face. His mind filled with nothing but that single line—I would face your blade with genuine respect—and pure joy exploded across his features. He completely forgot everything else she'd said. The smile on his lips wouldn't stop spreading as he gazed at Black Marie.
"Yes, Marie, that feeling—"
He never finished the sentence. Black Marie cut him off again, still wearing that loving expression, still speaking in that gentle tone, and delivered the line that dropped his heart straight into ice.
"But that was the old you, Sanson (Assassin)."
"Your ideals have changed long ago, haven't they?"
"You're no longer the executioner I once respected."
Her words slammed into him again, rooting him to the spot in shock. Sanson (Assassin)'s eyes flew wide, disbelief written all over his face as he listened to her continue.
"You already know it's true, don't you?"
"You're not the same executioner anymore."
Black Marie didn't give him a single second to recover. She had the rhythm of the conversation locked down tight, refusing to let him speak.
"No?"
"Looks like you haven't even realized it yourself~"
"Think back to who you used to be. A proper executioner who wanted every condemned soul to die without the slightest pain."
"You were so kind, Sanson (Assassin)."
"The old you even invented the guillotine just so those vicious criminals would suffer less in death."
"You wanted to save them, didn't you?"
"And even that wasn't enough. After the guillotine, you kept refining your technique, searching for the perfect, painless end."
"The guillotine you operated—thunk—truly gave no pain at all. I can speak from experience on that one."
Black Marie let out a self-mocking little laugh, then turned her gaze back to the man in front of her—the man who had strayed so far from the ideals she'd just described.
"Now look at the you standing here…"
"Tell me, on your way here, how many innocent people did you slaughter with that polished killing technique of yours?"
The last question finally made something click. Sanson (Assassin)'s face twisted with horror as memories flooded back.
After being summoned to this Singularity, he had searched the night for Adam and the others on Black Jeanne's orders. Along the way he'd come across fleeing civilians—ragged, starving, some dragging children behind them. He never found out how they'd survived the monsters.
He had simply looked down at the guillotine-shaped sword in his hand… and killed them.
He had taken their heads with his own blade.
Not because Black Jeanne commanded it. He had done it of his own free will.
The reason was painfully simple: he wanted to keep his guillotine skills sharp, to make sure the feel of the cut stayed perfect—so that when he finally executed Marie, he could show her the refined technique he had spent so much time honing.
But… had that ever been his true ideal?
"Sanson (Assassin), as an executioner you only ever killed the guilty. Even if a few innocents slipped through the system, that wasn't your fault—it was the law and the judges."
"But after you were summoned to this Singularity… those ordinary people you killed…"
"People who had committed no crime, people who were never sentenced to the guillotine—why did you kill them, Sanson (Assassin)?"
"Did it feel fun?"
Black Marie's last words came out light and playful, like a mischievous child pulling a prank.
"I… I…"
Sanson (Assassin)'s pupils trembled violently. He stared at his own hands—the hands that were supposed to sever sin itself—and saw them now stained with the blood of the innocent.
Black Marie watched his breakdown and kept going, still sharing every bit of the frustration in her heart. Her voice grew even softer, her expression even kinder.
"Sanson (Assassin), you've become nothing but a murderer obsessed with perfecting your guillotine technique."
"But hey, on the bright side, you really are quite skilled at it now. That blade of yours, dripping with innocent blood, does look a lot sharper."
"Congratulations, murderer. Your killing technique has improved dramatically."
The word murderer hit him like a hammer to the chest.
Black Marie went on, voice still sweet:
"You do know the difference between a killer and an executioner, right?"
"The better you get at killing, the sharper your blade becomes… the rustier your executioner skills grow, and the duller the blade meant to save sinners."
"As an executioner, you have completely lost your qualification."
"Wouldn't you agree, murderer~?"
Every word clawed at his nerves. His breathing had already grown ragged.
She even remembered the way he had once planned to execute her in this Singularity—how he had wanted to use his newly polished technique to make her feel pleasure in death. The irony burned.
"You, a murderer, asked me how it would feel to be executed by you?"
"What kind of feeling do you think it is, being killed by a disgusting murderer?"
"Wow, I'm so thrilled Being slaughtered by a filthy murderer"
"Heh heh heh ha ha ha"
The sheer mockery filled Black Marie with delight. She couldn't hold back her laughter.
To anyone else, her laugh would have sounded beautiful, like heavenly music.
To Sanson (Assassin) it was the sound of a devil laughing in his ear, constantly reminding him exactly what he had become.
In that instant, his faith shattered. Everything he had believed in had twisted beyond recognition.
"I've become…"
He finally understood. He was no longer the executioner who saved sinners. He had fallen into the role of a murderer who slaughtered without restraint just to sharpen his own skills.
The realization made more than his eyes shake—his entire body trembled with revulsion at what he had done. Slowly he raised his blood-stained hands, but no matter how hard they shook, he couldn't wipe away the innocent blood that clung to them.
Black Marie looked at the broken man in front of her and felt a quiet, satisfied thrill. Looks like she'd shared her feelings perfectly~
Still riding the high, she suddenly remembered something from back at Chaldea—something Sanson (Assassin) had once said to her about how he felt when executing her.
A new spark of amusement lit up in her eyes.
"Oh, right, Sanson (Assassin)."
"If I remember correctly, when you executed me you said you thought I was innocent. Something about how you should tear down the entire execution platform?"
"Yet you still executed me anyway. Why was that, Sanson (Assassin)?"
"So that's how it is—you were already a murderer back then?"
"Now tell me, murderer~"
"How did it feel to successfully behead innocent little me?"
"Heh heh heh ha ha ha"
Black Marie savored the delicious irony and laughed again, the sound ringing like bells.
The situation had completely flipped. Before, Sanson (Assassin) had asked her what it felt like to be beheaded by him.
Now she was the one asking—now that he had realized he was nothing but a murderer—what it felt like to cut off her head.
"Ah—ah—"
"AAAAAHHHH!!!"
Sanson (Assassin) let out an uncontrollable scream and collapsed to his knees, clawing at his own hair, trying to use physical pain to drown out the agony ripping through his soul.
It didn't help. Nothing could.
Cracks began to spiderweb across his body—the visible sign of his Spiritual Core breaking apart.
Sanson (Assassin) was cracking.
At first the fissures were small, but they spread like a bursting dam, racing across his entire form. In moments his whole body was covered in fractures, and so was his Spiritual Core.
Crack.
His entire Spirit Origin exploded into pieces.
Sanson (Assassin) was gone.
Mozart, who had watched the whole thing from the side, stood frozen with his mouth hanging open wide enough to swallow an egg. His eyes were glued to Black Marie in pure disbelief.
He swallowed hard, body shaking.
"Terrifying…"
He understood being ruthless to an enemy. He'd thrown his own verbal jabs before. But to talk someone's Spirit Origin into shattering with nothing but words?
He looked at Black Marie. She was still laughing brightly at the spot where Sanson (Assassin) had vanished, one hand clutching her stomach, the other pressed to her forehead, clearly enjoying herself so much it almost hurt.
"Ha ha ha~"
Mozart had an ear for music like no one else. Normally Black Marie's laughter felt like a warm spring breeze washing over him.
This time, the sound sent a chill straight down his spine.
He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and silently swore to himself: I am never messing with Marie again.
Just as he was reflecting on how terrifying she could be, a sharp pain suddenly stabbed through his forehead—stronger and longer than the last time.
It felt like something was trying to break out of the mental cage he had built inside his own mind.
***
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