Chapter 69: Kill Them All - Part 8

In front of me—

Herman, bleeding and collapsed.
Harry, standing there in shock.
Gwen, unconscious.

…And my arm.

I tossed aside the arm I had been holding and grabbed Harry by the collar.

“Guh—ah!”

I know.

This isn’t his fault.
The moment Herman took Gwen hostage… he probably couldn’t keep his cool either.

So the reason I’m getting in his face isn’t anger.

It’s panic.

“Harry, get the med kit you’ve got on you… right now!”

“Guh… ugh…”

I’d been gripping him so hard he couldn’t even speak.
The fact that I only just realized that shows how frantic I was.

Herman… dying?

He’s still breathing.
His heart’s still beating.

All that’s there is a Razorbat—a black, bat-shaped throwing blade—stuck in his back.
But Herman doesn’t have any superhuman abilities.

His body’s no tougher than the average person’s.
If you stab someone in the back with a knife, what happens to a normal human?

…If you leave them, they die.

I steady my breathing and loosen my grip on Harry.
He coughs, then manages to speak.

“T-that… was the last one.”

“…What?”

“I used it on the cop… then on Gwen… that was the last…”

“……”

I let go of Harry.

He dropped limply to the ground.

What do I do?
Rely on the Winter Soldier or Black Widow?

No.
If I do that… they’ll detain us.

If Fisk finds out… Herman will be hunted until he’s dead.
And me… the second the organization finds out, the bomb in my chest will be detonated… and I’ll die.

So… what do I do?

…Right.
The Tinkerer.
If I get to his lab, there’ll be medical equipment.
I saw it before, when I asked him to service my suit.

I slip my arm under Herman’s legs and hoist him up.

I will not let him die.

…Out of the corner of my eye, I see my arm, severed by Carnage.
Without it, it’ll take a month to heal on its own.
…No doubt, Gwen or Peter will figure out who I really am.

If that happens, I…

I don’t want them to hate me.
For the first time in my life, I’ve felt like living could be fun.
Until now, I’d only ever killed people… I never had anyone I could open my heart to.

…I don’t want to throw away this everyday life.
Even if it’s something that will be taken from me someday.
I just want to keep on dozing in this dream, as Michelle Jane.

No.
No, no, no.

The weight on my shoulder presses down on me.

…Losing Herman would be worse.
I know I couldn’t bear it.

If he died because of my selfishness… I’d regret it.
Forever, until the day I die… no, even if I fall into hell, I’d regret it for eternity.

So if I have to throw away one or the other… then—

I take my eyes off my own arm.

Right now, I’ve only got one arm.
I can only carry one thing.

I have to be ready to let something go.

With Harry’s gaze on my back… before the heroes can crawl out from the rubble behind me…

I shoulder Herman and leave the scene.

---

Running through the dark underground passage.

Carefully—so as not to aggravate Herman’s wounds—but quickly.

Herman’s breath hits the black armor on my shoulder, misting white.

He’s still breathing.

Not dead yet.

Still… still okay.

We’ll make it somehow.

I beg.

I pray.

Don’t let him die.

……I’ve taken so many lives.

Just to keep myself alive… even the good people who stood in my way.

I don’t care if they’d scoff at me for daring to pray now.

But still—

Please.

Don’t let him die.

He’s not so terrible a person that he deserves to die like this.

So, please…

The weight of the grown man on my shoulders… feels like the weight of his very life.

……Until now,

I’ve killed, and killed, and killed so many…

Every single one of those “someones” must have had someone who cared about them too.

I just pretended not to notice.

To spare myself the pain… I buried my guilt, refused to think about it.

Killing someone… is that heavy. Really heavy.

Whether they’re good people or not.

A wretch like me had no right to take those lives.

"Hah… haah…"

My breathing is ragged.

Both my body and mind are at their limit.

But I don’t stop running.

I throw open the door, rush inside.

Press the button… and activate the elevator.

Faster, faster, faster, faster—

Frantically, I stand before the door.

Then, as it opens… I stumble in.

……Tinkarer’s lab.

Tinkarer, seated in a chair, notices me stepping out of the elevator and turns around.

"Hey, you’re late. Took you longer than I thought—"

"Tinkarer…!"

I lay Herman down on the desk.

Noticing my panic, Tinkarer approaches Herman’s side.

"P-please… help him… I’m begging you… don’t let him die…"

"……I’m not a doctor, you know."

……Those words feel like they shatter every last shred of hope.

I look at Tinkarer with desperate, pleading eyes.

"But well, I’ll do what I can."

Tinkarer snaps his fingers, and white barrel-shaped robots begin gathering.

Panels unfold, revealing medical equipment—scalpels, suturing needles attached to mechanical arms.

A tube is inserted into Herman’s body, pumping some kind of fluid.

"……Will he make it?"

Even so, I can’t help but ask, my voice trembling with worry.

Tinkarer turns to me and nods confidently.

"Of course. But there’s one thing I need from you."

I press a hand to my chest and step closer.

"What is it? I’ll do anything, so—"

"Now, now, calm down."

"Ugh…"

Tinkarer gestures for me to steady myself.

How am I supposed to calm down right now?

But it’s true—panicking won’t change anything.

I fall silent, and Tinkarer continues.

"What I need… is your blood."

"My… blood?"

From one of the white barrel-shaped robots beside Tinkarer, an arm extends—bearing a syringe.

The needle is… thick enough to see clearly.

It looks like a blood-drawing device.

"Like I said, I’m no doctor… so this might hurt a little. Bear with me, okay?"

The needle glints sharply under the light.

---

I was standing in a plain where golden grass grew as far as the eye could see.

It was… an unbelievably beautiful sight.

But, I don’t know… somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to like it.

Shimmering grass stretching all the way to the horizon.
A sky bright and clear without a single sun.

An eerie, incomprehensible scene where common sense didn’t apply.

Standing in such a vast, empty plain… I tilted my head, wondering what the hell was going on.

…Looking around, I saw a single girl.
Her figure was hazy, shrouded in mist.
But somehow… I just knew it was my dead little sister.

Ah, I see.
So this is the afterlife.

I’d never been religious, never believed in an “afterlife” or anything like that… and yet—yeah, I guess it exists.

Wait, hold on—why am I so ready to believe that?
For all I know, this could just be a hallucination I’m having right before I die.

Well… there’s no way to confirm it.
No point in chasing answers that don’t matter.

Pushing aside the golden grass, I approached my sister’s mist-shrouded form.

『Yo… been a while.』

I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out right.

Still, she smiled and nodded, like she understood.

I couldn’t even see her face, so why could I tell she was smiling? …I didn’t know.

『So… this is the afterlife?』

When I asked, she nodded.
I see… so I really am dead.

『I see… yeah, I see…』

I held my head in my hands and sank to the ground.

I couldn’t say I had no regrets.
That’d be a damn lie.

There were still plenty of things I wanted to do… plenty I had to do.

But, well… we were scum—villains who lived by hurting others.
I never really expected I’d get to grow old and die peacefully.

So yeah… I accepted it as something inevitable.

But there was still one thing—just one thing—I couldn’t let go of.

『Listen to me…』

I spoke to my silent sister.

『There’s this friend of mine… no, wait. Maybe I’m the only one who thinks of us as friends… but anyway, there’s this guy.』

Her hazy face tilted slightly, peering at me.

『He’s stronger than me… but somehow, he always feels like he’s walking on thin ice.』

I was speaking like I wanted her to hear, but… maybe it was really just me talking to myself.
I didn’t expect a reply, didn’t even want one… I just kept talking.

『I don’t know his face, I don’t know his real name… all I know is his voice. Young—yeah, about your age, if you were still alive.』

No reply.
No reaction.

『And that kid… he’s in the same dirty business as me. I don’t know why. But I don’t think he’s really a bad person at heart.』

When he pulled me out from under that collapsed building… it wasn’t just about gain or loss.
If I’m not imagining it… he doesn’t hate me, either.

『It’s like somewhere along the way… something got messed up, like a button done up wrong.』

I gripped the grass at my feet.

『And when a kid buttons their clothes wrong… what do you think should be done? Me, I figure it’s only natural for an adult to fix it for ’em.』

A memory came back—back when I took care of my much younger sister.
When our mom was still alive… but already too sick to stand on her own.

I remembered dressing my sister, fastening her buttons for her.

『…That’s why… I still have something I’ve gotta do.』

I slammed my hand into the ground.

『I’m not ready to die yet.』

…Only the sound of the wind reached my ears.

My sister didn’t react at all.

Unable to stand the silence, I turned my face away.
And when I looked behind me—

『Huh?』

There it was—a massive… no, not just massive, way too massive door.

It hadn’t been there before… and it had to be at least a hundred meters tall.

『…The hell?』

As I stood there dumbfounded, a loud, raucous laugh echoed in the air.

…No—this wasn’t my sister at all.
It was something I had only thought was my sister.

She’d never laughed like that.

Then… who the hell was this?

No—why had I even thought this thing was my sister in the first place?

What is it?

It didn’t look anything like her.

It wasn’t even human.

Its skin was blood-red, and it wore a matching crimson cloak.
Two pointed ears, sharp fangs glinting from its grinning mouth.
Something like horns sprouted from its head, and its face was hard and severe—like that of a middle-aged man.
But its eyes… had no pupils. Only white sclera, crisscrossed with engorged, blood-red veins.

Come to think of it, this wasn’t a golden plain anymore, either.

The ground was littered with bones, each one soaked in crimson blood and driven upright into the earth.
Even the sky was red… the color of blood.

A chill rose from the pit of my stomach.

Why had I mistaken this for her?
Who was this thing?
Where was I?

I swallowed my scream and staggered back.

The crimson figure spoke to me as I recoiled in fear.

『Herman Schultz… there is no need to be afraid.』

At some point, there was a wine glass in my hand—filled with deep red wine.
I was certain it hadn’t been there a moment ago.

『I have no intention of doing anything to you… for now.』

“W–Who the hell are you? And… where is this?”

I pushed aside bones, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

My foot knocked against something—clink.

It was a familiar glass dome… the mask of Mysterio, who was supposed to be dead.
Beneath it was a head, shriveled like a mummy’s corpse.

“Gah—!”

My legs gave out and I collapsed to the ground.

『Where this is… who I am… none of that matters. You won’t remember once you wake.』

“What… the hell are you… talking about…?”

The red face drew close, filling my vision.

I couldn’t move—like my whole body had been paralyzed.

『I have no interest in you. What I need… is a soul that is far more pure.』

I tried desperately to steady my breathing, which had grown ragged with fear.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

I struggled to put more distance between us—until suddenly, there was no ground beneath me.

“Uah—!”

Before I realized it, the massive door behind me had swung open… and beyond it was a sheer drop.

I plunged into a torrent of blinding light.

From outside the doorway, the red, devil-like man leaned forward, peering down at me as I fell.

『Someday… someday without fail, you will return here. Until that day—』

That maniacal smile burned itself into my memory… as I plummeted downward.

---

“…Ugh… wha…?”

I feel like… I was having some kind of scary dream.
But now’s not the time to dwell on that.
Where am I?
What’s happening to me right now?

Is this… a bed?
A fluorescent light is shining down on me from above.

…I touch my face.
No mask. No gauntlet on my hand, either.

My suit’s been taken off… and I’m wearing some thin, pale-green thing that looks like a hospital gown.

I push my upper body up.

No desk, just an all-white room.
…Doesn’t look like a hospital, though.

And then… I feel something on my waist.

When I look down… it’s a girl.
A young girl, sitting in a chair… slumped forward so her upper body’s resting against me.
Her hair is a beautiful pale… blond.

When I touch it, it’s silky smooth—wait, what the hell am I doing?

Who is she? As I’m wondering that suspiciously, the door opens.
It’s an automatic sliding door, like the kind that moves sideways.

And stepping in from outside the room… is a man in a black full-face mask and armored suit.

“Fufu, so you’re awake, Herman Schultz.”

It’s a mechanical voice, impossible to tell if it belongs to a man, woman, young, or old.
…But somehow… it sounds familiar…

Ah, I get it now.
It’s the same voice as Redcap.

“…Who the hell are you?”

“Tinkerer. My job is… well, I guess you could say I’m an inventor.”

“Not a doctor, huh?”

“Nope. I don’t have a medical license either.”

The figure in front of me—guy… or maybe not a guy?—laughs like they’re mocking me.

Anyway, this “Tinkerer” says—

“Huh? ‘Tinkerer,’ you said?”

“Yeah? That’s what I said.”

“Don’t lie to me… The ‘Tinkerer’ I know is a little old geezer. Who the hell are you?”

The image of an old man sitting in a chair, tinkering with machines, pops into my mind.

A long time ago, I’d worked a job together with “Tinkerer.”
The mechanically savvy Tinkerer had taught me ways to improve my suit and all sorts of other things.

That was five years ago… maybe longer.
Back before I even started working for Fisk.

That’s why I can’t trust this person who’s using the same name as an old acquaintance of mine.

“Oh… so you knew my foster father?”

“…Foster father?”

“Yeah. I just inherited the name ‘Tinkerer’ from him. There’s nothing shady going on like you’re thinking.”

It’s possible this person’s lying.
…Not enough information to trust them yet.

But still…

“…So, you’re the one who saved me?”

“Well… partially, I guess. But the one who brought you here and worked hard to save you… was Redcap.”

“…I see.”

I’d jumped in planning to save someone… but in the end, I was the one who got saved.

“So, you should thank her.”

“…Huh?”

Tinkerer points toward my waist.
Toward the girl lying face-down.

“…Yeah, I’ve been wondering—who the hell is she?”

Somehow… deep down, I think I already know.
But I can’t bring myself to believe it, so I ask Tinkerer.

“She’s exactly who you’re thinking of.”

“…Huh? You mean, she is—?”

“That’s right.”

…Yeah.
It’s hard to tell through the clothes, but… she’s missing an arm.
The spot matches exactly where Carnage cut it off.

But… she’s younger than I expected.
From the back, I can’t tell the details, but judging by her small frame… she’s just a kid, maybe around fifteen.

Her suit must be thicker, because compared to when I saw her before—in that red full-face mask I know—she looks a size smaller… no, maybe two sizes smaller.

“…That so…”

But Redcap herself isn’t moving.

She’s lying there, holding her breath like she’s dead.

“…Hey, is she okay?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“I mean… look at her. She’s not moving, and… I dunno, did she push herself too hard or something?”

I mean, earlier when I patted her head, she didn’t react at all.
…Made me think maybe she’d overdone it to save me and just passed out.

Tinkerer laughs at that.
No—more like snickers.
Feels like I’m being made fun of.

I can’t help but open my mouth.

“What? What the hell’s so funny?”

“Oh, plenty. It’s hilarious, actually. Because that Redcap there… she’s just pretending to be asleep.”

…Huh?

“Pretending to be asleep?”

“Yeah. Playing possum. She’s awake, you know.”

…So you’re telling me she knows I patted her head just now?

Wait, then why the hell is she pretending to sleep in the first place?

“…Hey.”

“…What?”

I shake her shoulder, and she answers me quietly.
But she still doesn’t lift her head—still lying face-down.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“…Don’t wanna be seen.”

The hell’s that supposed to mean?

She shifts her head a bit, muttering in a low voice.

If she didn’t want me to see her, she should’ve just kept the damn mask on.

And on top of that, she’s wearing the same kind of patient gown as me…

I tilt my head, and Tinkerer cuts in.

“She was giving you a blood transfusion. Took some blood out of her, so she’s a bit drained.”

“Blood transfusion?”

…So, we’ve got the same blood type?
Even then, what’s the point of taking blood from her just to give it to me?
Did they not have any transfusion packs ready?

“See, her blood has… a certain special factor in it. It greatly boosts the body’s regenerative ability.”

“Ahh… I see—wait, seriously?”

Come to think of it, I’ve seen Redcap regenerate wounds from battle at insane speed.

So they used her blood on me to crank up my healing?
Is something like that even possible?

“That’s just how it works.”

I’m no doctor, but… I can’t make sense of it.
It’s not like getting a transfusion from a smart person makes you smart, or taking blood from a strong person makes you strong.
Doesn’t add up.

While I’m still stewing over it, Redcap, still lying face-down, speaks up.

“…Sorry.”

I don’t know what she’s apologizing for.
Plenty of things come to mind, but none of them are really worth apologizing over.

So instead of answering, I just pat her head.
…Her hair feels nice, so it’s pleasant to touch.

“…Stop that.”

…Got told off.
I pull my hand back and glance over at Tinkerer.

They’re looking at Redcap with an expression I can’t read.

“…If only you could be more honest.”

The muttered words make her flinch ever so slightly.

So I speak up, wanting to reassure her.

“Huh? Oh—what? You saved me, didn’t you?”

“…It’s my fault, really. I pushed myself too far, and… dragged you into it.”

“I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care at all…”

“…”

She trembles a little again.
…Is she afraid of something?

“If something that small was gonna make me think less of you, I wouldn’t have wanted to save you in the first place.”

“…Thanks.”

“No—other way around. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

I pat her head again… and this time, she bats my hand away.
Guess she doesn’t like being patted.

“…So, why’re you hiding your face?”

“…I can’t bear to face you.”

“I don’t care… And if you didn’t wanna show it, why the hell’d you take your suit off?”

Seriously, what’s with her pretending to sleep right next to me?
If she didn’t want me to see her, she could’ve just waited somewhere else until I woke up.

While I’m thinking that, Tinkerer chuckles quietly and leans in to whisper in my ear.

“She was so worried about you, she couldn’t stand to wait, so she stayed by your side the whole time.”

“Shut up, Tinkerer.”

“And when it looked like you were about to wake up, she panicked and pretended to—oof!?”

With a heavy thud, Tinkerer stumbles.
Redcap must’ve kicked them while still lying face-down.

The air goes a little awkward, and I can’t help but let out a wry smile.

Then she starts mumbling again.

“…I just had to take off the suit for the transfusion, and… figured there was no point in putting it back on.”

“Uh… right…”

She starts piling on excuses, and I’m not buying it… but arguing would just be a pain, so I nod anyway.

…Even so, she stays face-down.

I can’t help wondering what expression she’s hiding under there.

As if she read my mind, Redcap speaks.

“…Herman. Do you want to see my face?”

I do.
If I’m being honest… I really do.

But, well…

“If you don’t want me to see it, I won’t.”

I’d like to think I’m not the kind of jerk who barges into places people don’t want you stepping—just out of curiosity.

“…I see.”

She says that… and then lifts her head.

“…Whoa—”

For a second, I’m speechless.

A girl—so pretty she looks almost fake—sits there.
From the back I’d guessed, and sure enough, she looks about fifteen.

…If I were five—no, maybe ten—years younger, I might’ve fallen for her.

She’s that beautiful.

But her refined eyes… are red and swollen.
They’re watery, and… her nose is running.

…There’s a faint red mark on the bedding in front of her.
Probably lipstick.

“…Don’t stare so much.”

“A-ah, sorry…”

“…I told you. This isn’t a face fit for showing people.”

That’s not true.
Sure, she’s far from her best right now.
But maybe because her baseline is so gorgeous, she still looks beautiful to me.

“…Why’d you show me your face?”

“You were curious, weren’t you?”

“Well… yeah, I guess.”

Crap.
I’m not used to talking to girls younger than me… especially not minors.

Not knowing what to do, I glance over at Tinkerer for help—only to see them with their arms crossed, silently watching us.
…Guess they learned their lesson after getting kicked earlier.

“You… don’t talk without reason. That’s why I… but really—”

Our eyes meet.

Normally we’re both masked, so this is the first time I’ve seen them.

Blue eyes—clear and deep like the ocean—lock onto mine… and then she suddenly throws her arms around me.

She buries her face in my chest, sobbing.

“I’m so glad… so glad you’re alive… If you’d died… I…”

No words of comfort come to me.
No thanks, no apology.
Nothing at all.

…A kid.

Why the hell is she calling herself “Redcap”?
Why is she in the business of killing people?
How did she… end up twisted like this?

The more I think about it, the tighter my chest feels… and the harder it is to speak.

So I just reach out, trying to pat her head—
And she swats my hand away with the one she’s got left.

---

I left Herman not in a hospital room… but in an unused room inside the research lab, and stepped outside with Tinkerer.

This wasn’t a hospital.
There were no such things as hospital rooms here.

“Really, you saved me, Tinkerer. If there’s anything I can do for you, I—”

I looked at Tinkerer, about to ask him a few things—

“……”

“…What’s wrong, Tinkerer?”

He just stared at me silently.
Then, flustered, he averted his gaze.

“Huh? What? It’s nothing.”

This guy’s odd behavior isn’t anything new.
So I decided not to dwell on it.

“…Actually, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“It’s about your arm, right?”

“A-ah…”

He hit the nail on the head, and I couldn’t help but frown.

But… if something could be done about this arm, I wouldn’t have to part ways with Peter and the others.

Not that I necessarily have the right to stay with them… maybe I don’t.

…Honestly, maybe it’d be better to leave before my cover slips.

No—thinking about it from the start—
My infiltration of Midtown High was under the organization’s orders.

They’re bound to question how I lost my arm.
What am I supposed to say then?

That I went out on an unsanctioned mission and came back missing an arm?
There’s no way that excuse would fly.

Whether it’s Fisk or the Unseelie Court,
I can see exactly where that would lead—disciplinary action.

…A matter of life and death.

Still, I don’t regret throwing that arm away.

Because saving Herman proved to me that my body still had value.

While I was thinking that, Tinkerer turned to me.

“Maybe something can be done, you know?”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. All I need to do is prepare something exactly the same as your original arm, right?”

“Yeah… sorry, I really appreciate this.”

…Come to think of it, why is Tinkerer helping me?

He’s not part of the organization—just a business partner, at best.

Yet he worries about me, grants my requests.
Even when it means going against the organization or Fisk, acting on his own, he still lends me his aid.

…It’s enough to make me feel guilty for keeping my guard up.

Maybe I can trust him a little more.
That thought quietly crossed my mind.

I followed behind Tinkerer.

“But… a spare arm—like a prosthetic? Can you really make one identical to mine?”

“Heh, well, yeah. Not that I prepared it just for something like this, but by chance… I happen to have something we can use.”

His research lab was big.
Big enough that I didn’t even know every room in it.

We walked down the corridor and stopped in front of a door.
He placed his hand on the touch panel and slid in a keycard.

…Quite the strict security.
None of the other rooms had locks like this.

When I stepped inside with Tinkerer… I saw rows of lockers.
About a meter wide each, and slightly shorter than that in height.

A bluish-white fluorescent light lit the room… which was a little—no, very cold.
Like the inside of a refrigerator.

Then, Tinkerer grabbed one of the drawers and pulled it open—

“…What the hell is this?”

Inside… was me.

Lying there with not a single stitch of clothing, staring blankly at the ceiling with lifeless eyes.

…As if I were dead.
A chill ran down my spine.
Anyone would react like that, seeing a corpse identical to themselves.

I stepped back a pace, and Tinkerer turned to me—

“What do you mean, ‘what’? That’s your corpse, obviously.”