For Sasamori Takeshi—who was not an explorer—almost everything unfolding before his eyes was incomprehensible. If someone told him it was all just a tasteless joke, he might have believed it without question.

To begin with, Hamamatsu Nanami, who had just emerged from the wall, immediately took the pale purple man’s provocation and charged again as if fired from a cannon.

He had no idea what those glowing daggers she held in both hands were, but she must have believed she could kill him with them.

The result, however—was failure.

The moment she reached him, she was knocked away like a pinball. This time she slammed into the ceiling before crashing down. The impact rang out like a construction machine smashing into a house, and several of the pipes running along the walls—including the one binding Sasamori—buckled, their fixtures tearing loose from the walls and ceiling.

Chunks of concrete from above crumbled and scattered across the floor.

At that kind of speed and force, if a human body were smashed into something, there was no way they could survive…

and yet—

“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I will kill you. You…!”

Muttering curses under her breath, Hamamatsu swayed as she stood up again. Aside from her suit being in tatters, she showed no significant injuries.

Jzzzz—

That strange sensation returned, and once again, light formed into short blades in her hands.

Holding the twin daggers crossed before her eyes—the next instant, a torrent of blinding light tore through the air.

Like lightning.

But that lightning didn’t strike the pale purple man. It skimmed along his surface and crashed into the basement entrance instead. A deafening explosion followed, along with the smell of scorched air.

“—Why…?”

As if she had meant to say, Why didn’t it hit? Hamamatsu muttered in shock. She looked completely dazed, leaving openings so obvious that even an amateur could see them.

Yet the pale purple man did not counterattack.

Instead, he curled his lips into a grin and let out an exaggerated laugh.

“Ha! Ha ha ha! My, what a powerful strike! If I had taken that head-on, even I might have been in danger… Would saying that give you a bit of hope? Well, to be honest—it’s not even worth discussing.”

He twirled the cane in his left hand, openly mocking her.

The provocation was so blatant that Hamamatsu took the bait without hesitation.

“Uaaaaaahhh—!”

A scream-like roar split the air, followed by a tearing sound. This time, she wasn’t sent flying immediately. She halted right in front of him, and for a brief moment, it seemed like blows were being exchanged.

Too fast for Sasamori to see.

In the span of a single breath, she was effortlessly handled, struck in the chest with the man’s cane, and sent flying again—straight toward the wall opposite the entrance.

Another violent impact. Because she crashed into the same spot as before, the already shattered concrete burst apart in a cloud of dust. Pebble-sized fragments grazed Sasamori’s cheek, cutting his skin slightly.

Not that such a wound mattered in his current state.

“People from this world really do love electricity. I must say, your scientific advancements are quite impressive. But that doesn’t give me any reason to be wary of you personally. To me, the fact that televisions work is far more wonderful than your strength.”

“Shut up! I’ll kill you! I swear I will!”

Hamamatsu burst out from the crater in the wall again, light daggers in hand—but this time, she didn’t rush forward.

Her earlier “lightning” had been brushed aside so easily that she couldn’t recklessly use it again. And in close combat, stopping to fight head-on only resulted in her being blown away.

In other words—she was finished?

Unless she had some hidden trump card, even to an untrained eye, Hamamatsu didn’t seem to have any chance of winning. Not that Sasamori particularly wanted her to win—but if she were killed, it would change what awaited him next.

Why had that pale purple man appeared here, and why was he fighting Hamamatsu? He had said he came to check on things—but did he still intend to use Sasamori for something?

Heh heh heh…

Without making a sound, Sasamori laughed deep in his throat.

Because, in the end—he didn’t care anymore.

After being beaten this badly, and now watching two monsters clash right in front of him…

Whatever fate awaited him next—it could go however it pleased.

“Oh my, are you already out of options? How laughable for a former B-rank explorer. So busy pushing children to the front lines, and the moment your one little trick stops working, all you can do is growl and bark? Ahh… was it Zakomatsu Zakomi-san? ¹ You’re just like a middle-aged man watching baseball at home, aren’t you? ‘What are they doing? Put me in as manager. Yeah, that’s it, you can do it if you try. Don’t use a player like that.’ Hahaha. Your dead clan leader must be rolling in his grave. After all, he died protecting you, didn’t he?”

Sneering with a grotesquely clear expression—so different from the unreadable face he had worn while disguised as human—the pale purple man deliberately tapped his cane.

Clack.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! AAAAAAAH!”

Provoked by such cheap taunts, Hamamatsu completely snapped, her entire body crackling with light as she charged.

But the result was the same.

In an exchange far too fast for Sasamori to follow, she was knocked straight upward, slammed into the ceiling, and then—just before hitting the ground—was struck by a kick from the pale purple man and sent flying horizontally.

“You really are boring, Zakomatsu-san. You managed to survive for ten whole years, so what exactly have you been doing all this time?”

Speaking with genuine contempt, he swung his cane.

The cane bent and flexed like a whip—

Crack!

With a sharp explosive sound, it slashed into Hamamatsu’s shoulder, embedding her into a different section of the wall than before.

“Ahh, this is dull. You’re not suited for this job at all. Why not quit? Shall I introduce you to a better line of work? It’s called a cleaner—just a simple job where you hunt down weak monsters in the upper layers of dungeons. Perfect for someone like you, Zakomatsu-san. Oh, and it just so happens that that ‘Cursed Sword user’ seems to be closing up shop.”

As he spoke, the cane twisted and extended unnaturally, striking her again and again with precision.

Her shoulder, then her thigh, her side, her right cheek, her ankle—Each blow tore into her flesh. 

Blood blossomed from every impact, seeping across the floor through cracks in the shattered concrete. To Sasamori, it looked like a dangerous amount of blood loss for a normal human… though in truth, he didn’t know how much blood it took for someone to die.

“Die… die… die… I’ll never forgive you…”

No longer even able to shout, Hamamatsu muttered her curses weakly.

The pale purple man retracted his extended cane, tapped it against the floor again with exaggerated flair, and laughed.

“Oh my, weren’t you going to kill me? What exactly are you praying for? Whether you forgive me or not is hardly relevant, wouldn’t you say? You really are dull, Zakomatsu-san. Oh, by the way—this is a phrase I learned from the people of this world. Would you mind saying it for me? Right now, you’re about to die without being able to do a single thing in front of the murderer who killed someone dear to you. So—tell me… how do you feel?”

“—……”

Stop.

That was what crossed Sasamori’s mind.

That was going too far—before logic could even catch up, something like his ingrained worldview rang an alarm.

It wasn’t concern that Hamamatsu might turn things around if pushed too far.

No—it was the sense that Hamamatsu Nanami’s very position was about to change.

Just moments ago, she had been on the verge of falling to the same level as him.

An unconscious, inconsiderate perpetrator. A coward who disregarded others for her own convenience. Without ever realizing her own ugliness, she had been about to fall to the same place as Sasamori—

And yet, because of that pale purple man—she would become a proper victim.

A pitiful, powerless victim worthy of sympathy.

How unnecessary.

Each beat of his heart sent waves of agony through his crushed shoulder and battered body, like being consumed by a raging fever. And yet, strangely, Sasamori found himself laughing at the fact that he didn’t once think, If only this man hadn’t given me that strange stone…

More than that—he couldn’t stand the thought of that gutter-reeking woman dying cleanly.

He wanted her to be disappointed in by those around her, just like him. He wanted her to be let down, scorned, and forced to live on while being thought better off dead.

“Please—”

Before he knew it, the word slipped from his lips.

It was far quieter than even a restrained cough, yet the pale purple man seemed mildly intrigued. He turned his gaze away from Hamamatsu and looked at Sasamori.

“What did you say?”

Tilting his head slightly, he looked genuinely curious. A monster—likely not even human—who had treated a former B-rank explorer as beneath notice now showed simple interest in his eyes.

Back when he had appeared human, his expressions had been impossible to read.

Which meant—this was likely his true form.

“Don’t kill her. I’m begging you. Don’t kill that woman. Don’t let her die cleanly.”

Without realizing it, tears streamed down Sasamori’s face as he spoke.

To think that this was his true wish at the brink of death—he was beyond saving.

But—it was the truth.

“That woman… she’s a filthy, gutter-stinking wretch. If she dies like this, no one will ever know what she really is. Worse, she’ll become a victim of your threat, and the people around her will burn with righteous anger. That gutter woman… that gutter woman… don’t let her have such a clean death. I’m begging you.”

If that was the price—he didn’t mind dying here.

He meant that, from the bottom of his heart.

Perhaps it was the first time in his life he had ever begged someone so sincerely. And yet, at the same time, he didn’t expect for even a second that such a wish would be granted. The pale purple man didn’t seem like someone who would listen to the pleas of others—especially not someone like Sasamori, who had already outlived his usefulness.

Even so, he couldn’t help but wish for it.

Please—don’t let that woman become a victim.

“Ha—hahahahaha! This is wonderful! How delightful, Sasamori-san! This is exactly why humans are so fascinating! You are far more pitch-black than we are!”

Clutching his stomach, the pale purple man burst into laughter.

But Sasamori had no room left to dwell on it. His body was in agony, his mind burning with fever, his vision blurring.

Whether the man laughed for a few seconds or several hours—by the time his fit of laughter subsided, a chilling silence had settled over the basement.

Sasamori could barely even hear his own breathing anymore.

As for Hamamatsu, who had been embedded in the wall and carved up by the cane—was she alive, or dead?

At the very least, her muttered curses could no longer be heard.

“Well then, that was thoroughly entertaining. It’s a shame I won’t be here to witness what comes next, but I believe I shall take my leave now. Sasamori-san—no, Sasamori Takeshi. In consideration of your ugliness, I’ll refrain from finishing off Zakomatsu. Pray that help arrives in time.”

Well then, with that oddly polite farewell, he turned and left.

For a moment, it seemed as though he had resumed his human disguise as he departed—but Sasamori couldn’t be sure.

He thought he heard the faint clack of a cane.

—and then, Sasamori’s consciousness faded away.

1. zako, as in a small fry.