“Are you trying to make all your hair fall out, or have your beloved blonde loli disappear frequently?”

“…Neither.”

Mori nonchalantly shifted his gaze, accepting the warning about his receding hairline.

At this moment, Hyakki, who had been sitting for a while, could no longer wait. He lifted his face and “looked” at Mori. His soul-piercing gaze was sharper than any scalpel, cutting through the human facade like a divine being from mythology that measures one’s virtues and sins. It doesn’t care about your achievements or abilities, only the deeds of your life that determine whether you should descend into hell.

Mori deeply admired this non-supernatural “gaze.” It was a miracle created by humanity.

Unable to see with his eyes, he sees the world with his heart.

“Where… is… Dororo…”

Hyakki’s inspiration pieced together the complete sentence. His heart’s eye enveloped the entire office, but he did not see a single pure, immaculate, cotton candy-like life flame. Including Hyakki, the life flames of the four people were tainted with red light—a sad reality indeed.

Everyone has karma, the human world is like hell.

Hyakki’s situation was similar to Nakahara Nakahara’s. From birth, he bore the power of twelve demon gods. This power polluted his soul, with red light dotting his missing organs.

He wanted to find that one pure white “Dororo” and use all his might to protect “her.”

“Dazai, come here,” Mori beckoned to Dazai.

Dazai was reluctant, but he had no choice—Mori was now his direct superior, and this month’s salary had yet to be paid. He moved over slowly, and the closer he got, the more he noticed Hyakki’s growing unease.

Dazai felt a twinge of self-mockery.

[How could I ever step into Hyakki’s safe zone?]

His filthy self should stay far away from Hyakki. This way, he wouldn’t harm Hyakki, nor would he be harmed by Hyakki. Before the day of his redemption came, he would have already been completely changed beyond recognition.

The more he thought about it, the more despondent he became.

More painful than being broke was losing the person to spend money on.

Just as Dazai began contemplating escape, Mori suddenly commanded, “Nakahara, grab him!”

Nakahara Nakahara, with explosive speed, reached out to grab Dazai, but Dazai, slippery as an eel, dodged his grasp while shouting in protest.

“Mori! You’re cheating!”

“Shorty! You’re actually obeying a Port Mafia boss!”

Not knowing what Mori was up to but sensing danger, Dazai decided to make a strategic retreat.

Hyakki, mistakenly thinking a fight had broken out, suddenly stood up, ready to rush over. However, he stopped in his tracks, hesitating. He realized that this tainted life flame resembled Dororo’s outline, perhaps just a child who had committed many murders before understanding the preciousness of life.

Alice suddenly appeared behind Dazai, wielding a thick medical book and slammed it down on his head.

Dazai stumbled and, in his misfortune, was caught by Nakahara Nakahara.

Bad luck!

“Behave, Dazai,” Mori clapped his hands with great delight and then grabbed Hyakki, who was trying to avoid him. This unruly person was actually attempting to dodge his grasp.

Hyakki was displeased with Mori’s actions. The other man had the audacity to seize him by the nape of his neck!

“Ah—uh—!!”

He emitted a sound of resistance.

Nakahara immediately looked over in concern, “What are you trying to do?!”

Hyakki, like a small cub grasped by fate at the neck, was quite amusing without growing up, Mori whimsically thought to himself.

Mori, who had long planned this, reacted with lightning speed. He took advantage of Nakahara to trap the cunning Dazai, and without hesitation, dragged the unrecognizing Hyakki over, fulfilling Natsume’s wish.

Dazai resisted fiercely, his eyes wide.

“Mori, don’t do this—!”

Mori seized both by the neck with the same bandage, knocking their heads together forcefully.

No Longer Human!

The illusion disappeared!

With a resounding “thud,” penetrating deeply, their skulls and masks resonated!

Under Nakahara’s stunned gaze, Dazai’s vision went black, and he toppled onto Hyakki. It was evident of Mori’s ruthlessness, giving Dazai no chance to escape. At the moment “No Longer Human” took effect, some false human features on Hyakki vanished, including his tongue, which disappeared from his throat.

Hyakki was extremely bewildered, attempting to make a sound, unsure why his tongue had suddenly vanished.

**Where is my tongue?**

**The purple flame on my body… is also gone…**

【Is it Dororo? The person who can purify the purple flame on my body. I know Dororo alone can!】

【Who is this person leaning on me?】

Gradually, without needing Mori to restrain them, Hyakki reached out and grabbed the feverish Dazai, feeling his face to try and identify him in a more ethereal manner than catching the moon in the water.

The black-haired youth concentrated all his spiritual strength, yet still couldn’t break through to the real world.

He could only “see.”

He could only perceive.

Across a wall named “world” and “cognition,” his soul desperately reached out with a nonexistent hand, wanting to grasp the person living in the distant world.

But he couldn’t see clearly, couldn’t perceive clearly; he couldn’t be sure if this was his “Dororo”!

At this moment, not even Rokodu could help Hyakki.

“No Longer Human.”

Born of supernatural power, defeated by supernatural power.

【It looks like Dororo, really looks like Dororo… Same height and build as her…】

Hyakki’s heart raced as his prosthetic fingers touched the bandages over Dazai’s eyes. Dazai flinched involuntarily as his heart skipped a beat, wanting to cover his face. A strong wave of revulsion washed over him—revulsion towards Mori, towards Nakahara Nakahara, and most of all, towards himself for ruining his best impression.

In the midst of Dazai’s illness, his mind was chaotic, voices faintly screaming somewhere.

Don’t notice.

Don’t… see the self stained with sins not yet washed away.

Hyakki’s movements didn’t stop. He rubbed Dazai’s skin vigorously, causing pain, but kept silent. He sought to wipe away the crimson sins and see clearly into the darkened flames within. The flames seemed fragile, like soft cotton, not burning brightly enough, struggling to ignite in the cold and harsh environment.

In the darkness, the flames tainted with sins resisted turning completely black.

The grayed-out flames mirrored the darkness within their souls.

【…】

Hyakki felt an intense urge to speak, words stuck in his throat, overwhelmed and unsure. The fundamental similarity in their life flames shook his soul; he wanted to cry, but this world didn’t allow him tears.

【The first time, the second time… the fifth time I’ve seen this person…】

【It can’t be wrong… She always comes to find me.】

In reality, Hyakki, under the gaze of others, ceased his strange wiping actions. His delicate mask reflected the weak, almost desperate irises of the other.

Dazai seemed to grasp something, yet also seemed oblivious to Hyakki’s intent, shamefully retreating.

Hyakki refused to let him escape, holding him tightly, seeking to connect with his soul, to dispel the darkness clinging to it. The black-haired youth embraced the corrupt gray flames with his cold prosthetic limbs, devoid of any illusions.

The significance of the crimson light, the symbol of danger, faded away.

To live itself became the greatest hope.

【Do.】

【Ro.】

【Ro.】

The most melodious words in the world couldn’t be spoken; no syllables could perfectly describe them.

But Dazai heard them.

Like seeing specks of gold in murky waters, drowning in oneself.

Can you grasp them?

If you can’t grasp them… still, it’s worth trying once.