Carsick is not the word for this. My legs are trembling so much that I can’t even stand. I have no sense of balance. I feel like some newborn herbivorous creature trying to stand on its own four wobbly legs for the first time. Not even the most rigorous martial arts training ever left me this exhausted.
“All right, then! Let’s get to work! I’m going to start taking things seriously just like I promised!”
There’s no way I could ask to rest now after the earful I gave him.
“The building mentioned in the e-mail is just up ahead… By the way, Kunikida, are you afraid of ghosts?”
“Ghosts? …Do you really think someone afraid of ghosts can work at the Armed Detective Agency? Guns and knives are much more of a threat than some mystical apparition.”
“Good. Because that’s apparently where we’re investigating.”
I turn to see what he’s pointing at, and I see a dilapidated black building standing in the bosom of the mountains. An abandoned hospital reeking of death and rot, shrouded in darkness, awaits us.
Why?
Why did we have to come here in the middle of the night? And on a night like this?
All living people fall ill. Just as there is no perfect mind, there is no perfect body. One would have to look no further than a hospital for proof. Everyone is born and dies in a hospital. One could say that hospitals act as the boundary between this world and the next—the dividing line between life and death. And a forgotten, decaying hospital is all the eerier.
Moonlight creeps in through the shattered windows, casting sapphire shadows of subtle grace over the rubble. Stagnant violet puddles resembling blood cover the floor, and out front are a bunch of spider lilies, their flowers a noxious shade of crimson.
“It’s dark… I can hardly see a thing.”
“But isn’t that half the fun?”
As I drag my feet along the abandoned hospital’s hallway floor, Dazai casually skips past me. The rotten walls are crumbling while old wires dangle from the ceiling. The window frames are missing, most of the equipment has been stolen, and the hospital’s rooms are now nothing more than homes for insects. Who would ever willingly come to a place like this?
“The client requests that we find the source of the light and noise coming from somewhere here every night. There’s no telling what might happen, so don’t let your guard down.”
“Sure… But, Kunikida, don’t you think you’re being a little too cautious?”
I glare at Dazai. “Only a fool underestimates the enemy. Being a member of our agency means to always expect the worst and act accordingly.”
Lowering my center of gravity just to be even more careful, I prepare for a surprise attack while advancing down the hall.
“Are you scared?”
“I-I’m n-n-not scared, you idiot!”
“Then let’s hurry up and get this over with.”
“Don’t be stupid. In movies like this, the first characters to get themselves killed are the careless ones who get carried away and run up ahead.”
“And what kind of movie are we in?”
“Just shut up and take the lead. I’ll keep an eye on the rear.”
“Are you only saying that because you don’t want to be in the—? Oh, wait. You said it was because it was too dark to see anything. Have you considered using a flashlight or something?”
I have. In fact, I would love to be able to have some light, but…
“If there really is somebody here, they’re most likely going to run away if they see our lights. We’re going to have to rely on the moonlight to get by.”
“If you say so.”
We travel through the darkness. The building creaks against the strong winds. I hear the sound of water dripping. Not only are there no private houses around this hospital, there aren’t any buildings at all. Only the hills and vast woods watch over us as the pitch-black trees howl in the blustering wind.
I think back to the client’s e-mail. “Neighboring residents”? There isn’t a place fit to live for miles from here. The only nearby inhabitants are foxes and bears.