Why Taniguchi was even bothering with this façade, Shinji couldn’t tell. He was clearly thereiryokuuser. Energy poured from every cell of his body, the white tendrils floating about. Sweat dripped down his face along with blood from a head wound. Someone had hit him with a sharp object from the looks of it. Possibly Kojima.
Shinji expected the ghosts to appear again at any second, but they didn’t. Had he finally reached his limit? The veil still covered the first flood, but Taniguchi shook from head to toes, his gaze was unfocused and his fingers twitched.
“Taniguchi,” Teruo said. “You’re under arrest for the murders of Yamato, Ozawa, Ishida and Miura. Handcuff him,” he told Shinji.
Shinji grabbed the handcuffs from his belt and rushed toward Taniguchi, keeping his spiritual energy at the ready in case Taniguchi tried something. It was difficult to reach him in the crowded room. The only way straight to him was right in front of Teruo’s line of fire, so Shinji had to go around the autopsy table to avoid that.
In a fraction of second white tendrils of energy moved and the stainless steel table flew in the air heading for Teruo. It hit him head on, knocking him backwards into the wall, and he accidentally pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the ceiling.
Shinji drew a sharp breath and launched himself at Taniguchi, twisting his ownreiryokuaround Taniguchi’s ankles, trying to shove him onto his knees. But he still had enough energy left and the tendrils whipped Shinji hard, sending him staggering into the autopsy table. Taniguchi’s energy wrapped around Shinji’s arms, tightening over the suit, holding Shinji in place and blocking hisreiryoku. Then the ghosts of Yamato and Ishida appeared, enclosing their frozen fingers around Shinji’s neck.
“Should’ve minded your own business,” Taniguchi growled.
“You murdered them.” Shinji choked on his words.
“They fucking deserved it! They were sick! They tormented me and they needed to pay for it.”
As if triggered by Taniguchi’s words, Yamato and Ishida’s fingers clenched around Shinji’s throat. He struggled to draw air, but Taniguchi’s energy was weakening with every second—Shinji could feel it. Even the ghosts seemed to waver, their clutches becoming unsteady. The moment Taniguchi’s hold broke, he could…
A loud groan came from Teruo, followed by a litany of curses. He pushed the table off his legs and stood slowly, holding onto the wall behind him for support, his gun aimed at Taniguchi. The energy fluctuated and Shinji strained to break free only for Taniguchi to grab onto him and put a scalpel to his throat, shielding himself behind Shinji, with the ghosts holding onto Shinji’s wrists.
Gathering hisreiryoku, Shinji pushed it toward Taniguchi, but a sudden pressure hit him right in the chest and Shinji wheezed, his vision blurring for a second.
“That won’t work,” Taniguchi said.
“Fucking hell,” Teruo growled. “Still got fight in you? There’s a backup team arriving any second now. Let him go. You can’t face all of us.”
“Lower your gun or I cut his throat,” Taniguchi threatened, pressing the blade into Shinji’s neck.
He winced, trying to pull away from Taniguchi, but there was nowhere to go. He cursed himself for becoming a liability.
“Do you really want another death on your hands?” Teruo said. “Your bullies and Suzuki aren’t enough?”
Shinji didn’t remember that happening, but kept quiet. Taniguchi’s clasp on his shoulder faltered for a second.
“She’s not dead,” Taniguchi said, words coming out in labored breaths.
“Yeah, she is. Died at the hospital,” Teruo replied. “Chemical poisoning. Came from here, so I know you put it in her food to kill her.”
“I didn’t mean to kill her!” Taniguchi yelled. “Just wanted her out of my way!”
“Well, she’s dead now.” Teruo’s voice was unbelievably calm as he spoke and his grasp on the gun steady.
Shinji stared at it, wondering what Teruo planned to do. There was no way to shoot at Taniguchi in this position without the bullet hitting him too.
“I didn’t mean to kill her!” Taniguchi howled, making Shinji jolt.
The scalpel cut into his skin and Shinji carefully tilted his head to the side, trying to get his neck as far from the pointy end as possible. He wanted to reach for his own gun. He could feel it with his thumb, but the ghosts of Yamato and Ozawa still held tight onto his wrists.
“What about Kojima?” Teruo continued. “Killed her too, didn’t you?”
“She’s not dead,” Taniguchi snarled, his nails digging through Shinji’s suit, his energy weakening more.
“You sure? She looks dead to me.”
“No—”
“And the new M.E.? Where is he? Dead too?”