Three shadows stood at the edge of the darkness just outside the wagon.
With the streetlamps at their backs, only their vague outlines drifted in the gloom. I couldn't tell which of them had spoken, but I knew one thing: every one of them was "watching" us.
They stood about my height. Robes concealed their builds and genders, leaving only their hands peeking out from their sleeves—hands as white as a corpse's.
The air felt foul.
Beggars and thugs were a dime a dozen in the Junk Market, but you rarely saw people who stood with such unsettling stillness. I scanned our surroundings, but the secluded location meant we were alone. Not that anyone else would have been much help anyway.
The Bouncer’s throat rumbled. The sound of him swallowing his spit echoed with exaggerated volume.
Get a grip, big guy. He was twice their size; he could at least try to look the part.
The Doctor slipped past my side, his boots crunching on the iron dust as he stepped forward. His small back looked fragile—no, that was just his act.
"U-um, do you need something from us? We just came to do some shopping with my big brothers..."
His voice was that of a friendly, innocent child. He looked up with watery, pleading eyes, his expression a mask of timid anxiety designed to disarm any hostility. This was the Doctor’s "public" persona.
Beside me, the Bouncer stood with his mouth agape. I just gave the kid a deadpan look from the corner of my eye. Quite the performer.
However, our opponents didn't flinch. All three remained perfectly still, faces tucked deep within their hoods. Then, in a chilling unison that sounded like a practiced chorus, they spoke.
"You are touching God's Domain."
The voice was mechanical, stripped of any gender or humanity. It was followed by a whispered refrain.
《God, please save us... God, please save us...》
Great. The troublesome type. The contents of their Speech Bubbles were completely shattered. I’d seen it before with junkies high on experimental drugs, but this felt like a cocktail of narcotics and deep-seated brainwashing.
The Doctor shrugged his shoulders, dropping the act as he returned to his usual self.
"Well, looks like the type you can't reason with. Hey, Repairman—"
The moment he started to speak, one of the hooded figures lunged. The darkness seemed to leap with the sound of tearing air.
"You are touching God's Domain!"
Howling the same words like a mantra, the figure flew straight for the Doctor. Reflex took over. Pivoting on my right foot, I swung a horizontal kick with everything I had.
There was a dull thud. My boot caught the figure in the torso, sending it and its robes flying. If it had been a normal human, their organs would have been liquified as they tumbled across the pavement. But the thing merely skidded back a few steps, remaining upright.
Heavy. The sensation against my leg felt like bone, but the elasticity was wrong. It was as if their insides were packed with high-grade shock absorbers.
As the figure steadied itself, I caught a glimpse of something glowing deep within the shadow of its hood—something merging with its flesh. Beneath the skin, I saw metallic seams.
"...Right. Not a normal body, then," I muttered.
The remaining two figures stepped forward in tandem. They repeated the same line in an eerie monotone.
"The Divine Hand shall pass judgment."
The Doctor clicked his tongue. "Tch... these guys too?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Tell you later. For now—handle this. Just don't kill them. I need to dismantle one and pull the logs."
As if on cue, the Bouncer let out a roar. His mechanical arm whined, a massive fist blowing one of the hooded figures back with a sickening crunch of meat and metal. Sparks flew, but the figure refused to stay down.
"One survivor should be enough, right?"
I pulled my gun from my coat. A quick draw. I’d been told not to kill, so I’d avoid the vitals. My finger naturally caressed the trigger.
I fired a short, three-round burst. The gunshots cracked against the narrow metal walls, muzzle flashes blooming like sparks. Three bullets tore through the air in near-simultaneous succession.
I was aiming for the "Speech Bubbles"—those translucent bubbles of consciousness floating above their heads.
The first shot passed through with light resistance. The second did the same. But when the third bullet struck the bubble of the figure furthest in the back, it shattered like white glass with a sharp pop.
The moment the bubble broke, the figure’s knees buckled. It collapsed into a heap on the ground like a doll with its strings cut.
Tch. Some of them are tougher than others.
The other two ignored their fallen comrade entirely. Without a word, they charged straight at us. This was beyond "unreasonable."
The ground shook as I clicked my tongue. The Bouncer’s massive frame stepped forward, his prosthetic arm creaking and venting oily smoke as it hummed with power.
"Stay behind me!" he bellowed.
His fist tore through the dark. Another collision, another dull thud. One of the robed figures was sent spiraling into a wall, shattering the masonry as it fell. Yet, it crawled back up, its bones making a sound like grinding stones.
Its hood slipped off, revealing a human face—or rather, an "expressionless thing." The skin was stretched unnaturally taut, and pulses of light like bundles of fiber optics ran beneath its cheeks. It had no life in its eyes; the rhythmic flickering of whatever was inside it served as its only form of expression.
"Ugh, what the hell is that?" the Bouncer groaned.
Before he could process it, the second one leaped. Accelerated by prosthetic legs, a flying kick dropped toward my head from directly above. I crouched instantly, shielding myself with my arms.
The impact slammed through my shoulders and vibrated down my spine. My internal skills reacted beneath my skin, immediately initiating repairs on the damaged tissue. I leveled my gun and fired twice into the shadow at my feet.
The bullets pierced the robes at point-blank range, splattering a black liquid. It had the viscosity of motor oil rather than blood.
"Rei, let's go!" the Doctor shouted.
I turned to see the wagon's sliding door open. The small figure in the white coat was leaning out from the driver's seat, frantically pounding on the side of the vehicle to hurry us up. Time to move our two pieces of "baggage" out of here.
I grabbed the arm of the collapsed figure—the one whose Speech Bubble I’d shattered—and gave it a sharp heave. I tossed it into the back of the wagon like a sack of scrap. The Doctor yelled something from inside the swaying cabin, but I ignored him.
Behind me, the Bouncer was still trading blows with the remaining two.
"Take this! Try this on for size!"
A roar, the screech of metal, and then a blinding white flash. An explosion of light and sound erupted from the Bouncer. The two robed figures were blown back, and the Bouncer stood there, smoke rising from his now-missing arm.
Essentially a self-destruct. Reckless.
I lowered my guard, grabbed the big man as he slumped to his knees, and hauled him into the back of the wagon. I slammed my hand against the driver’s seat headrest. The Doctor smirked and slapped a switch.
Clunk!
The door sealed shut, and the wagon lurched forward as if shot from a cannon. The tires skidded over the iron plates, screaming for traction before the vehicle accelerated away. Behind us, the "believers" picked themselves up, letting out sounds that were neither screams nor prayers.
《God, please save us. God, please save us.》
The chanting faded into the distance. In the side mirrors, the alleyway sank back into the blackness of the slums.
The Doctor, breathing hard, gripped the steering wheel and muttered, "Whew. They weren't just ordinary fanatics. Those 'Ash Ark' people are using a Neural Control Model. It’s definitely connected to that chip."
"...Do you think Olaf is still 'alive'?" I asked.
"Who knows? But at the very least, 'someone' is still putting that technology to use."
Grimy lights blurred past the wagon's windows. The engine's low growl was the only thing echoing through the night as we stirred the stagnant, rotten air of the Lower District.
In the back, the "believer" I’d dragged aboard was twitching rhythmically. Though their consciousness was supposed to be extinguished, they were still murmuring.
"...God's... Domain..."
The eerie voice echoed through the cramped interior. The Doctor sighed and rolled up his white sleeves.
"Well then. It’s a fine night for an autopsy."
His laughter was swallowed by the roar of the tires on the metal road.