Chapter 97
escape.
The moment that word was uttered, everyone present fell silent.
Who? Fleeing? Them?
"I don't believe there are any superhumans within the jurisdiction of the Japanese government who could threaten our lives."
Rimbaud's voice was gentle, not aggressive, but extremely insulting.
And he was absolutely right.
Just look at Chuuya and Verlaine, these two who wield the powerful weapon of artificial singularities, the [gravity] ability, and they can turn all physical attacks into a light drizzle.
Not to mention that he himself is a top-tier superhuman with exceptional abilities and has been through countless battles.
It's hard to imagine what level of combat power the Japanese government would need to deploy to wipe them out in one fell swoop.
"Do you need me to kill them?"
No longer bound by the subspace and having regained some of his strength, Verlaine spoke calmly, "I guarantee that even the Emperor would be no challenge to kill."
After all, there was a Queen in Britain under the strict protection of the Clock Tower Attendants, and he killed her without hesitation, even during her coronation ceremony.
This was a deeply humiliating and provocative act against the Clock Tower Household and the entire British Royal Family.
Therefore, if Verlaine said he could kill the Emperor, then he was absolutely certain he could do it, and it would be no more difficult than killing the Queen of England.
As a result, the entire Japanese government, which was in a state of fear, had to be careful about losing its head, and even those who dared to issue arrest warrants for detective agencies had to consider whether they could survive the night.
However, Osamu Dazai rejected Verlaine's offer to take on the task.
"Everyone says it's an escape, so how could they fight back and kill the government? If they could fight back, it wouldn't be an escape."
—Dazai Osamu narrowed his eyes slyly, but his voice turned cold for the second half of his sentence, “Don’t forget, our target is Fyodor, not the government.”
If all you want to do is bring down the Japanese government, there are plenty of ways. Those pampered politicians who only know how to whine and bow in apology are nothing to worry about.
But his real enemy was the cunning and scheming Fyodor.
“You mean,” Rimbaud, who had worked as a spy for several years, reacted just as quickly, “to show weakness?”
“Showing weakness is only an outward expression and cannot be used as a means to confront Fyodor.”
Dazai Osamu shook his head. "Especially since Fyodor's current position is extremely difficult to pinpoint, I suspect he won't stay in France for long either."
"If we were to search for him all over the world, it would be almost impossible to succeed and would only waste our energy."
"Moreover, if we can successfully counter each move and thwart Fyodor's plans multiple times, he will only hide deeper and become more cautious in his actions."
This sounded incredibly hopeless, and Chuuya shrugged and put his hands in his pockets in frustration.
"If we go on the run, will we be able to find that guy as soon as possible?"
"To be precise, we must actively cooperate with Fyodor's strategy until his plan succeeds."
Dazai Osamu raised his index finger. "Based on the clues provided by Fedia, I can be certain."
“In the final step of the plan, Fyodor had to do it himself.”
"So, in order for the villain to make his appearance in this final step, we naturally have to do our best to cooperate with this plan and make it come to a smooth end."
When Dazai Osamu finished speaking, everyone was a little stunned.
Indeed, if Fyodor, who was not a fighter, wanted to carry out his plan, he only needed to stay behind the scenes and remotely manipulate the situation through commands; there was no need for him to show himself.
This also means that if the situation does not develop as Fyodor predicted, his appearance will be postponed indefinitely.
Unless Feda, within the consciousness space, can wake up briefly from her forced slumber and find a way to tell them her location.
But this is unrealistic. Even if Fedia could tell them the location immediately, they wouldn't be able to get there right away—and during the time it takes to fly, Fyodor would have enough time to move several more outposts after receiving the news.
No matter how you look at it, it would definitely be much faster if they actively cooperated with Fyodor's plan.
But there's a problem...
"With our current power, it's questionable whether the government would dare to issue an arrest warrant for us."
Ivan, who had been standing quietly to the side, finally spoke.
"Moreover, my master not only cooperated with the Special Abilities Division, but also achieved such a brilliant record."
The implication is that even if the government intends to issue arrest warrants for them, who will they send? High-risk superhumans from the Special Abilities Division? That depends on whether those superhumans are willing to come and die.
"Yes, that's why we need to actively create opportunities."
Dazai Osamu smiled. "For example, Ranpo could pretend to be attacked by Verlaine with Akiko and Rimbaud, and their fates would be unknown, but secretly they could go together to participate in the detective competition that he had been longing for."
"Verlaine would then create a stir about leaving Japan... perhaps by escorting Miss Shelley back to England? I think you would prefer to spend more time with her."
Verlaine paused for a moment, then looked at Mary Shelley—who blushed as she was being stared at, pushed up her round, black-rimmed glasses, and whispered that it wasn't a bad idea; she would welcome Verlaine to visit her.
Mary Shelley completely forgot the terrible heart attack that would have occurred if Agatha had seen Verlaine accompanying her in England.
“Ivan also needs to leave Japan, under the guise of searching for Fyodor, he can go to Russia or somewhere else to relax... Hmm, Pushkin is relatively weak, so he can stay.”
Pushkin protested, but didn't dare to raise his voice too much: "Hey, hey...!"
“Actually, you and Ivan can leave together. I don’t need so many people.” Dazai Osamu blinked his iris-like eyes.
Pushkin: "…………"
How could they underestimate him like that! But if it were just to let him escape the dangerous pursuit of the government and go on a happy trip to another country to relax, that would be fine too... Damn it, I still can't forgive them for underestimating him! ...But out of everyone, he might actually be the weakest... But he's not so weak that he should be disliked!
Ignoring Pushkin's constantly shifting expression, Dazai Osamu said, "It's enough to leave only Odasaku, Chuuya, the president, and me."
"Deliberately weakening their own power, intentionally putting themselves in a vulnerable position to lure the enemy into making a move..."
Rimbaud asked with concern, "It is indeed a solution, but is it too risky for you?"
Although Dazai Osamu was a special anti-superpower user, his own combat power was not high; he was only immune to attacks from superpowers.
If he were relentlessly pursued by the government, firepower or melee weapons could easily kill him.
"It's alright."
Dazai Osamu's clothes were swept up by the wind that swept through the city, and his soft, slightly curly black hair was also lifted up and then fell lightly, covering most of his beautiful yet cold eyes.
“Fyja provided detailed enough clues that Ranpo and I have a general idea of what Fyodor is planning to do.”
"That's why the real key to the next operation lies solely with the president—everyone else is just insignificant bait."
…………
Tick-tock.
The sound of water droplets falling from an unknown source gently tapped against the rock wall, creating a clear echo.
The room was pitch black and windowless, with only the faint light reflected from the computer screen.
No, calling it a room isn't accurate. Judging from the damp, cold, moss-covered arched walls, it's more like an abandoned large sewer or a basement like a wine cellar.
In any case, it doesn't look like a place where people can live normally.
And that's exactly what happened. This place, which resembled a sewer, had a computer, tables and chairs, and basic toiletries, but conspicuously, no bed.
"Is that so... Hmm, as expected of Dazai-kun, he guessed my next move."
A cello-like sound, smooth and gentle, softly echoed in the dimly lit rock chamber.
Fyodor, sitting alone at his computer, was conducting a transoceanic conversation via encrypted satellite communication. His tone was indifferent: "It's alright, let's continue like this. Since Dazai-kun is willing to cooperate, it's also beneficial for our lobbying of the government."
"Actively transforming the army into vampires... How interesting. It sounds like their ambitions go beyond simply capturing fugitives."
"Yes, I'll leave the rest to you as well."
The flashing "Rats in the House of the Dead" icon on the screen disappeared, and Fyodor pressed the Enter key—in the dim light, one could vaguely make out that the knuckles of his left hand were once again covered by bite marks.
Just as Dazai Osamu had predicted, he was alone in a basement somewhere in some country, and even Gogol would never know his location.
He wasn't concerned about his own life; rather, all his actions needed to serve the eventual "Great Purge" before he could successfully achieve his goal.
Fyodor leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and let his body fall into unconsciousness—while his consciousness sank deeper and deeper until it landed in the palace of consciousness within the tower.
This is the first time since that day that Fyodor has relinquished control of his body and returned here in the form of a consciousness.
The place had become exceptionally quiet. The figure, fast asleep, remained lying on the soft bed, showing no reaction to his arrival.
However, the purpose of this slumber is no longer the same as the Kyogoku Natsuhiko incident, where his messiah was forced into slumber in an emergency to deal with a crisis.
He kept his eyes closed, as if he were light completely immersed in darkness.
Fyodor moved silently from the bookshelf to the bedside, bridging the distance between himself and Ye Yihe, his face showing almost no emotion.
The Bible, which had slipped during the confrontation, is still lying open on the carpet, revealing a particular page.
"I will show signs on the earth, with blood, with fire, and with smoke."
Fyodor sat in the chair that he had conjured at will, lowered his head slightly, and looked down at the face that was exactly the same as his own.
After a moment, he slowly and carefully took Ye Yihe's right hand and gently placed it on his cheek, his eyelids with fine eyelashes drooping.
The sun will be dim and the moon will be blood-red, like congealed blood; all this will happen before that great and glorious day arrives.
The original words of the Bible faded away and were gradually outlined in delicate cursive script, as if it were some kind of prophecy about to be fulfilled.
His jet-black hair fell smoothly in front of his eyes, gently brushing against the warmth of their skin against each other, concealing all the emotions surging deep within his crimson eyes.
“I create light, and I also create darkness; I bestow blessings, and I also bring misfortune. All these things are done by me.”
"I confess to you without reservation."
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