Dazai informed Mori about Ranpo’s situation.

Knowing that Mori couldn’t tolerate a forgetful European spy, Dazai essentially sentenced Ranpo to death. If Ranpo were to uncover any more of his schemes, he was doomed without Dazai needing to intervene.

Mori responded, “Dazai, you sure know how to stir up trouble. Let me think about it.”

Dazai felt relieved with nothing weighing on him, leaving behind Mori’s troubled expression as he went to find his beloved Hyakki.

Meanwhile, Ranpo continued his visits in the Port Mafia.

“Hyakki, have you felt the joy of reuniting after a long separation?” Using his lock-picking skills, the young boy with deep brown hair peeked out from outside the door to see Hyakki, who had been left alone all morning.

In the confinement room, both the older and younger spent hours in seclusion.

The difference was that after Yumeno’s passion faded, he slept for a while and rubbed his eyes before looking at his brother Dazai. Meanwhile, Hyakki slowly lifted his face from his knees, half-covered by a mask that obscured his true appearance. His ponytail of black hair fell to one side of his neck, gracefully contrasting the black and white, especially enchanting.

He was strong enough yet fragile, somewhere between a human’s flesh and a doll’s limbs.

Strong people could resonate with his hardships.

Weak people can find conscience and morality in him.

Evil people can find… a trace of compassion and sighs, the last remnant of humanity.

Hyakki is like a plain and unadorned mirror, reflecting all aspects of life, the seven emotions and six desires. Everyone sees different interpretations in him. In reality, Hyakki isn’t just someone who single-mindedly wants to survive; he represents themselves.

Under Hyakki’s cold exterior, Dazai sees the spiritual radiance of humanity.

They mockingly protect each other.

“Do… ro… ro…”

Hyakki spoke, bringing Dazai back to reality.

There was no radiance; Hyakki was just Hyakki, someone whose actions prove who likes him.

Dazai walked over to pull him up. Hyakki hugged Dazai’s waist, not immediately standing up. He was still upset about being abandoned by Dororo in the small room. Dazai glanced at the curious Yumeno and made sure he hadn’t “bullied” Hyakki before reluctantly taking responsibility himself.

“Alright, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have restricted Hyakki’s actions.”

I will make the same mistake again next time.

“I’ll help you find a new goal.”

Dazai grabbed his hair, his fingers tracing through the black hair, finally touching Hyakki’s neck.

“Forgive me.”

Hyakki’s vitality flowed through his veins under Dazai’s fingertips.

Dizzying and fascinating.

Dazai still liked Hyakki so much, willingly making his goals Hyakki’s goals. He wasn’t sure how empty he would feel after achieving this goal or what he would become in the future, but for now, the feeling was pretty good. Living undercover in the Port Mafia was starting to become interesting.

【Dororo is still grey. Haven’t the number of embraces been enough?】

Hyakki didn’t notice he was being taken advantage of by “Dororo”, focusing instead on his life flame.

Unfortunately, Dazai still hadn’t abandoned his evil intentions.

The Port Mafia was a large melting pot. Dazai jumped in with a splash, took a swim, and finally came ashore to wipe himself off. It wasn’t easy turning grey; otherwise, he could have been even darker.

Dazai took Hyakki away, refused Yumeno’s request to go out, and closed the door to the confinement room.

Yumeno pouted, muttering to his doll, “Dazai brother is just a bad guy, gonna kill you, gonna kill you… gonna kill you and take away my beautiful puppet brother…”

As a result, Yumeno lost his breakfast for tomorrow.

In the leader’s office of the Port Mafia, Mori shook his head at Dazai’s bullying behavior.

“Even bothering with a child’s words…”

He threw a dart at the target on the wall, full of worry. Each dart twisted and turned, failing to hit the mark, proving how lacking the leader of the Port Mafia was in dart skills.

“How should this be resolved?”

“This matter involves the secret research base from the post-war period… The explosion six years ago, which formed the shape of the basin on Leibo Street, originally destroyed all the black-red flames, is directly related to Nakahara. It’s too coincidental in timing; they both appeared six years ago… the King of Sheep… Nakahara…”

Mori’s mind was full of calculations, pondering how much value could be gained from using Nakahara.

The best outcome would be—

Loss of a prospective executive, in exchange for a future capable assistant.

Sheep, fat.

The Leibo Street began to let the sheep organization survive independently, but the central character who could not bear to sever the relationship sneezed.

He thought to himself: Who wants to persecute me again?

…

Dazai pulled out Hyakki and “happened” to encounter a shivering prospective executive of the Port Mafia.

“Is Nakahara going back?”

He greeted the other party, with little class consciousness and no self-awareness as a newcomer. Fortunately, the Port Mafia recognized that they couldn’t offend the big shots around the leader, so his actions were not only not criticized but were even privately said to be a bit aloof, likely receiving secret training from Mori.

The long-haired youth with fuzzy earmuffs looked palely at Dazai and nodded gently.

“The affairs of the headquarters have been completed, I’m going back to rest… S-s-so cold.”

Outside was the scorching sun of August, with a temperature of 36°C.

This prospective executive gentleman was like a block of ice emitting a chill, wrapped in warm clothing, radiating an abnormal “strangeness” from inside out, as if he couldn’t feel human warmth just like Hyakki. Previously ignored issues were dug up and became prominent weaknesses that exposed the other person’s identity.

Dazai touched the equally cold but potentially warming prosthetic hand and said, intentionally or unintentionally, “Looking closely, Nakahara and Hyakki are somewhat alike.”

Lang Tang, who wanted to part with him as soon as possible, couldn’t help but stop to look at the oblivious Hyakki.

The “gaze” of the black-haired youth slowly turned towards Nakahara.

“…Strange golden flames.”

A cold-toned gold.

Not the warm and embracing gold he had seen on Tsunayo before.

“Not the same,” Lan Tang spoke softly, with a lingering French gentleness, “He’s a good boy trying hard to survive, he shouldn’t stay here, we’re not on the same path.”

Dazai’s heart twitched slightly, looking at the other person again, Nakahara had quickly huddled into the car due to the cold.

The chill, like that of the dead, disappeared with him.

“This doesn’t seem human.”

“Let’s stay away from him, he doesn’t seem to want to harm us.”

Hyakki pulled Dazai’s hand, and the two left together, cherishing the last few days of their holiday life.

In the dessert shop, Kusuo, who had just finished paying the bill, walked out calmly, tracking from a distance two young men walking out of the Port Mafia headquarters. His X-ray vision was operating at a speed of one meter per minute, ignoring walls and objects, and he could see Hyakki’s muscle tissue and internal organs from afar — a human skeleton frame, most importantly, this skeleton frame had no left leg, no arms, and no spine.

As for other organs, Hyakki’s viscera were complete, except…