Million Dollar Bill Volume 1 Chapter 5

A dark night where the moon was covered by the clouds. Bryshere Gray was standing in front of Rodney's home by himself. His pursuit was a little delayed because of the festival, but he was certain that Aretha Franklin was here.

“Seeing as to how he took action himself, he either doesn't trust me anymore or he was raring to do something himself. I understand, but that's rather upsetting, Young Master.”

Regardless of his client's whim, Gray had to erase Aretha's existence. This was a task which only Gray could accomplish. He couldn't ask someone else to do this for him.

Gray put down the gas can he was holding. One should always carry out their hunts while aiming for the times when their games have lowered their guards the most. The target and her companions know that Gray's Fund is his shadow. They most likely think that Gray can't use his Fund at night. However, Gray is a professional. To him, the afternoon sun and the moon are nothing more than backgrounds for murder.

Gray opened the Tubo cap and pulled out the cigar. Afterward, he cut a small portion off the edge of the cigar with a cigar cutter before pulling out a wooden match and igniting it.

A few seconds pa.s.sed after he lit the match. Gray waited for the sulfur to go away and the fire to diminish a little before he finally brought the light of the match to the cigar.

He held the cigar between his thumb and index finger and rotated it as if he were cooking it over the match. A thick, full-bodied aroma that smelled like a mixture of nuts and fruits tickled his nose.

Gray put the mouthpiece portion of the cigar in his mouth. A thick smoke full of fragrance and miasma filled his mouth. The stigma that had been emitting a red glow on the band of the cigar disappeared before it started to appear on Gray's forehead.

Gray tossed the half-burnt match behind him. The oil was set ablaze and a wave of fire started to spread in an instant.

“I definitely won't let you get away this time, Aretha Franklin.”

As the flames consumed the trees on the hill, they began to surround the estate.

∗∗∗

“Where···?”

Aretha opened her eyes, but her field of vision was still dark. The cold and humid air felt as if it were crawling up her skin like a bug. Aretha tried to pull her legs in to endure the sudden cold that had a.s.saulted her. However, they didn't move an inch. Her arms as well. There was a tight sensation around her stomach, chest, and limbs.

Aretha soon realized that she was currently bound to a chair.

“Help···.”

Aretha's cry didn't reach far. She was in a small room. She heard panting around her. A s.h.i.+ver went down Aretha's spine. The breathing didn't sound human. Once a beast's rough breath touched the end of her feet, Aretha instinctively gripped the armrests of her chair tightly.

It was at that moment, there was a creaking sound followed by someone's footsteps. A door opened and closed. Click, clack, it was a clear sound. The sound of a pair of high heels. It was a girl.

“Is someone there? Rita? I don't care who it is, please release me!”

Aretha tried to wrack her memories. Rodney left in the middle of dinner and she also···.

‘Am I still inside the estate······?'

Aretha bit her lips. She couldn't remember anything after looking at Rita's shoes. It seems she had been drugged and confined.

“Rita? Is that you Rita?!”

The footsteps went behind Aretha's back and stopped. Rita was the only maid in this estate who wore high heels.

“I'll release you now, Miss Aretha.”

Her voice was small and calm. Aretha felt a bit relieved.

She felt the knot at the back of her head become untied. The blindfold fluttered as it fell and landed on Aretha's lap. Her vision was still dark.

“Rita?”

That was it. Her arms, legs, and body were still bound. Rita had walked to the other side of the room after taking off Aretha's blindfold.

Click, clack. This sound echoed twice. A bright light s.h.i.+ned down upon her and into her eyes. Aretha instinctively closed her eyes.

“Ahaha. It's just the light. There's nothing to be afraid of. Oh right, you guys don't have these in those shabby Indian villages yet. My apologies.”

Snicker. Aretha, who was startled by Rita's abrupt change in tone, opened her eyes slowly.

A windowless room. The one iron door that was present was firmly closed. There was a comfy-looking rocking chair in front of her. Rita was sitting on it.

The ones behind the heavy breathing earlier were also there. 4 large, adult male-sized dogs were laying down next to the rocking chair. They were a German breed of hunting dogs with sharp ears. Aretha had seen them before.

“It seems your mother never taught you to think twice before accepting food or beverages from strangers. This is why domestic upbringings are important.”

“Don't do this, Rita. Hurry up and let me go.”

Rita was quietly staring at Aretha with her hand on his chin. Her contempt-filled, mocking gaze was worlds apart from the expression of the maid she remembered.

“It seems you still don't understand your current situation···. All right, then let's do this.”

Aretha still couldn't get used to Rita's sudden change in personality. Rita seemed to enjoy this fact as she chuckled.

“Good boy.”

Rita bent down and stroked the stomach of one of the dogs that was lying down next to her. The dog wagged its tail as it stayed docile.

“Guess who I am. I'll think about releasing you afterward.”

Rita's gaze returned to Aretha. Rita was clearly having fun watching Aretha be confused.

“Guess, who···? What are you talking about? You're Rita, one of the maids that work for Rodney.”

“Use your head. I've already given you enough hints. Think about why I would give you this sort of question. Don't tell me you're that stupid. Even if you're an illegitimate child, you're still a Franklin.”

A Franklin. Aretha thought of one possibility.

“······Sister?”

Rita kicked her chair back as she stood up. She then laughed hysterically. Aretha watched her warily. Rita laughed until she tired herself out. While grabbing her gut, she continued to laugh even though she had fallen to the floor.

“······Yeah, I am this pretty, after all. I must obviously seem like a girl.”

Aretha opened her eyes and mouth wide in shock. Rita smiled in satisfaction. Aretha was absorbed in deciphering Rita's words, but her confusion was so immense that her head didn't work properly.

“Well, you can call me sister if you want. If anything, I'd be grateful if you called me that if you considered all the time and effort I put into this.”

Rita slowly approached Aretha.

“You still don't understand? It's me, me. The owner of this estate, your half-brother···. Rodney Franklin.”

That's a lie. Aretha spat those words out as she gasped.

“Rodney is a guy. I even had dinner with him earlier. He has muscular shoulders and was wearing an ill-fitting leotard⎯”

“That's a fake.”

Aretha's eyes trembled immensely. After declaring that she was Rodney Franklin, Rita laughed audibly.

“Well, it isn't a surprise that you were fooled. That blob of muscles also believes that he's Rodney Franklin, after all. With the power of my Fund, I made him firmly believe that my past memories and resolves were his own. He isn't acting. He's behaving like that while fully believing in his own words, so his authenticity is perfect.”

The hunting dogs growled.

The small girl standing in front of her was actually Rodney Franklin. She, no, he was her half-brother. Aretha was so overwhelmed by this unexpected truth that she couldn't utter a single word.

“You naively thought you could solve everything through dialogue as you came here to this house, didn't you? You probably weren't even remotely suspicious, were you?”

“That's···.”

Aretha looked back. It was just as Rodney had said. For some reason, Aretha never doubted anything that Rodney had said when he approached her as a maid. It felt as if doubt itself never existed in her mind in the first place.

“Anyone that has their shadows stepped on by me believes in everything that I say.”

Rodney stood right in front of Aretha. The hand that grabbed her chin was so cold that her lips were quivering.

“No. I wanted to talk to you since the beginning···.”

“That lip service isn't going to work. The only thing you want is the will anyway. You were going to kill me and take it from the bank!”

“I'm not lying!”

Aretha cried out as if she were pleading. With an ice-cold look on his face, Rodney put his feet on top of Aretha's thigh. The heel of his high heels dug into her flesh.

“Well, seeing as to how you didn't do anything when you had a chance to kill the fake earlier might mean that you're telling the truth. No, that was probably because you don't have any powers, so you can't kill the fake without a weapon. If I didn't prevent your companions from coming with you, then they would have probably killed the fake Rodney Franklin, wouldn't they?”

Rodney's nose touched Aretha's. His heel dug deeper as Rodney put more weight into it. Aretha let out a cry.

Cold, blue eyes were glaring right into Aretha's eyes. A thick peppermint smell emanated from Rodney's mouth.

“No···. We weren't going to do that.”

Aretha did her best to endure the pain. She felt like she would pa.s.s out due to the pain pressing down on her bone, but she clenched her teeth and bore it.

“Who do you think you are to monopolize all of our father's love?! Look at how pretty I am! I'm this lovely! I'm more feminine than a crossbreed like you! What makes you so special?!”

Rodney grabbed Aretha by the collar and yelled. A large shout that didn't seem plausible for his small physique filled the room.

“······I don't know, anything about that. I never asked, for something like an inheritance. I also don't understand why he sent me that letter and made my brothers and sisters want to kill me.”

Aretha shut her eyes tightly. She didn't understand a lot of things. Even if their mothers were different, they all shared the same blood. What was inciting Rodney to hate Aretha this much?

“Whatever. Everything will be taken care of if you're gone.”

The pain on her leg disappeared. Rodney went behind Aretha's back and grabbed her shoulders.

“Aretha Franklin has no to right to be loved.”

Rodney's shoe, which was standing on Aretha's shadow, rubbed the floor persistently as if he were trying to trample her shadow.

“Aretha Franklin, cannot be loved by anyone.”

Rodney spoke. All he did was utter those words; however, every single one of Rodney's words sounded as if they were reminding Aretha of an undeniable truth which she had believed in for a long time now.

“Aretha Franklin doesn't have a family.”

Aretha's memories went back to the beginning. Her mother's face when she saw her for the first time. She was the only family she had. The chieftain that raised her after her mom died and the two people whom Aretha considered to be her family, a brand declaring that they were all fabrications was stamped on top of their faces.

Aretha accepted Rodney's words as if they were the truth and denied her own memories. Everything became aligned in her head incredibly naturally and smoothly.

“Aretha Franklin was abandoned.”

She recounted her past once more. Non-existent memories started to form and the memory of her mother's caring touch became faint and dim like it was a dream she had a long time ago. An unimportant memory. A memory that was okay to forget. Aretha pushed her warm, daydream-like fantasy into the incinerator that was in her mind.

“Aretha Franklin is a loner.”

Her already small amount of good memories, the time she spent laughing and chatting with others, and even her recent experience of having fun at the festival with Bill, Aretha's own memories were being rejected from her. Fabrications that never happened. Why were these memories still in her head and this vivid? Aretha didn't even think about these things.

“Aretha Franklin lived her life feeling inferior and alone.”

Like this, every time Rodney repeated his words, the despair cast over Aretha's face became thicker and thicker. Aretha felt as if she had woken up from a sweet dream and was being forced to face the hopelessness that is reality. Aretha genuinely believed that all of her memories were fake.

“No. No.”

The rope that had been holding together Aretha's past, real memories, and beliefs, was snapping.

The rate of her heartbeat increased. Cold sweat went down Aretha's neck and drenched her clothes. Her face had stiffened coldly as if she were convulsing.

“Aretha Franklin has never been loved before.”

“Everyone hates Aretha Franklin.”

“Aretha Franklin has lived her life in solitude. Even her parents abandoned her.”

She didn't want to believe Rodney's words. The instant she accepted them, every obvious thing in her life, which she had never doubted before for even a second, would become lies. However, before Aretha knew it, she believed Rodney's words already.

Her mother, the chieftain, Bill, Ray, Oz, and everyone else, they were all fake. These people never existed. Aretha lamented. She had been living in a fake dream. There was no one around her. She has always been alone.

“Haa, haa···.”

Aretha's breathing became labored. She exhaled more air than she could inhale, so her brain was screaming due to oxygen deficiency. Her shoulders moved up and down irregularly because of her ragged breathing. She couldn't breathe properly. She felt her limbs becoming numb. Dizziness and nausea. Her vision became dark and bright intermittently over and over again.

“Tell me. Was everything a lie?”

The light s.h.i.+ned upon Aretha's pale face.

A single tear trickled down from Aretha's unfocused eyes. Rodney's mouth twisted into a bizarre shape. A twisted sense of satisfaction shone within his blue eyes.

“Yup. Your mom, your friends, and everyone else. They're all delusions you made up.”

Rodney drove a wedge in. Everything that had supported Aretha until now had been marked as false memories. There's no way that she would have hope or a will to live now.

“······me.”

Aretha mumbled with her head down. With exaggerated movements, Rodney listened carefully to Aretha's voice.

“Kill me···.”

The light in Aretha's eyes was lost. A bottomless pit had opened within them. The shock of realizing that every moment of her past, that had built her up until now, being utterly fabricated, was destroying her sense of self.

“Please kill me.”

“······No.”

Rodney placed his hand on the back of Aretha's neck as if he enjoyed the cold sensation.

“This isn't enough.”

Please. Aretha pleaded to Rodney. Aretha cursed at life over and over again as she cried.

“You have my word. I'm going to play with you until you've become perfectly broken.”

Rodney whispered into Aretha's ear. Aretha couldn't breathe. Her despair was already enough to make her give up on life, but Rodney declared that he was going to break her even further. Aretha wanted to shut her ears.

However, Aretha never would have expected the next words to come out of Rodney's mouth.

“Don't worry. Everything I said just now was actually a lie. The people who stood by you weren't delusions. You didn't imagine them.”

Aretha looked forward with a blank gaze for a moment. Rodney was smiling brightly.

Aretha needed some time before she could comprehend Rodney's words. However, within her mind, she already believed him fully before she could comprehend what he had said. Thanks to Rodney's Fund, Madam b.u.t.terfly, all of her doubt was removed and she accepted everything Rodney said as the truth.

“Don't cry. All of your memories are real.”

Color gradually returned to Aretha's cheeks. Her empty eyes were coming back to life as well. Thank G.o.d. Those were the first words that came to Aretha's mind. They weren't imaginations. The people who had stood next to her weren't fabrications that her mind had created because of her loneliness.

Aretha was happy. It felt as if she had regained something important which she had once lost. Her tightened muscles relaxed and her gaze became soft. Aretha had a bizarre look on her face. It was difficult to distinguish whether she was crying or laughing.

“Aah, truly. Tormenting you is fun.”

Rodney sounded excited. His face was still twisted with madness. Nevertheless, Aretha continued to cry with a smile. Rodney left Aretha alone for a while. He stared at her quietly as she calmly reaffirmed her memories.

Then, as soon as Aretha stopped crying, Rodney spoke once more.

“Aretha Franklin has never been loved before.”

“Everyone hates Aretha Franklin.”

“Aretha has lived her life in solitude. Even her parents abandoned her.”

The same propositions were repeated. Confusion encroached Aretha's mind. Both hope and despair swam around her mind. The two contradicting ideas felt as if they were both true to Aretha.

The desire to distinguish her real and fake memories made her desperately try to recollect her past, but it was pointless. Aretha didn't have the ability to judge whether certain memories were real or fake. Every single one of Aretha's memories became both fabrications and real events.

Aretha knew that if she were to accept both of these propositions as the true, then she would go insane. One of them had to be a lie, but Aretha's mind believed, without a doubt, that both of these contradicting statements were true.

And yet, Aretha resisted frantically. She couldn't stop thinking. She screamed as she struggled to get out of her restraints. The rope created large abrasions on Aretha's body and limbs, but she didn't care. She had bit her lips so hard that they were already torn and bleeding.

“Resist. Resist with all your might. Let's see what's faster. You somehow managing to come to a conclusion or your mind breaking down to the point where you're no longer able to think.”

Rodney released Aretha from her binds. Aretha rolled around on the floor and screamed as if she had gone mad. She was holding her head in her hands.

“It seems you're having trouble coming to a conclusion. Let me help you a little.”

Rodney, who had been laughing like crazy, spoke. His demented eyes that shone between his fingers as he pressed his palm against his face emitted a sharp glow.

“All of the people Aretha Franklin knows are real.”

Aretha's screaming became louder. Her confusion grew by another level.

“No. They actually aren't real. They were all delusions you created because you were lonely.”

Rodney spoke in a lighthearted tone as if he were singing. Even though this was all he was doing.

Aretha scratched at the stone floor with her nails. Her now bloodied, broken nails went towards Aretha's own neck. Her eyes shook as they rolled up and revealed the whites of her eyes. There was blood pooling up in her throat. Aretha hit her head against the floor over and over again.

“Not yet. This isn't enough.”

Rodney murmured quietly. This wasn't enough. Rodney wasn't satisfied yet. More, Aretha Franklin had to feel more pain.

“Once more, let's start from the beginning. Listen closely now.”

Aretha blocked her ears, but she soon realized that it didn't matter.

“It's pointless. As long as I'm standing on your shadow, you'll believe everything I say whether you can hear me or not.

Rodney proceeded to acknowledge and deny Aretha's memories repeatedly. Every time he acknowledged them, he would always deny them equally. Until the boundary between truth and fiction becomes vague, until Aretha's mind breaks, Rodney's brainwas.h.i.+ng wouldn't stop.

The torture continued.

∗∗∗

“Hua!”

After I tore apart the gunny-sack and returned to my original body, I immediately took out a match and set one of the piles of money, that was in the vault, on fire.

A hundred dollar instant torch, complete. A bright light filled the darkness and lit up my surroundings. There was no doubt. This was inside the bank's vault.

My gamble paid off. I predicted that if someone related to the bank saw a gunny-sack full of money on the floor after the bank had collapsed, then they would throw it back in the vault, and my prediction was spot on.

No, I should just say that I was lucky. It's a relief that it wasn't a petty thief that picked up the sack. I was filled with excitement once I looked around at all of the money that was surrounding me. How great would it be if I could take all of this money?

However, I shook my head. It wasn't like I was afraid of repeating the same mistakes. For now, I had to find the will that Rodney had stored here. After that, I had to get to Aretha. There wasn't much time left.

“Let's see······.”

I looked at one of the walls that was filled with private safes. There were no names written on the private safes that were in the shape of a bunch of drawers. There were only numbers.

“Aah, d.a.m.n it. Whatever.”

Even thinking felt like a waste of time. I decided to use the most efficient and primitive method.

“Fistful of Dollars⎯Seated Liberty⎯.”

My first turned into a heavy, blunt weapon made of silver. I swung my fist towards the lock on the first drawer.

∗∗∗

“I thought you would last longer.”

Rodney brought his pretty brows together. The scowl on his face made him almost look like a kid who had had their toy taken away from them.

Aretha was sprawled out weakly at Rodney's feet. She was like a corpse, she didn't move an inch. The froth flowing out from her mouth and wetting the stone floor was the only visible movement.

“This isn't fun.”

Rodney grabbed Aretha by her hair and pulled her head up. There was no life in Aretha's pink eyes. Rodney realized that Aretha's mental state was completely broken like he wanted it to be. Regardless, among all of the emotions he was feeling, happiness wasn't one of them.

Futility. It felt like Aretha's eyes were reflecting Rodney's exact emotions.

Was it because he was torturing someone who no longer tried to resist or fight back? Rodney thought.

“Are you going to let yourself keep being pushed around like this?”

It felt as if he were dealing with a martyr and not a target of torture, Rodney thought.

“Don't you hate me? I hate you so much it drives me mad.”

It's only normal for people to hate those who hurt them. There's no exception. As long as you aren't some adult from one of those old stories, no one loves their foes. In Rodney's eyes, Aretha looked stupid for not fighting back.

“So, have you come to a conclusion?”

Rodney grabbed Aretha and asked. Even if he glared at her in annoyance and cursed at her, Aretha didn't give him the response he wanted. Rodney was starting to feel tired.

“···.”

Aretha didn't react. There was no doubt that she couldn't even form a thought now, Rodney concluded in his mind as he looked at the expression on Aretha's face.

However, Rodney could also see a hint of peace on his half-sister's face. He tried to think about what that peace could possibly be based on, but he couldn't figure it out.

Rodney was taken aback. Aretha was the one who had been in a state of confusion until now, but now their positions have swapped.

“You've gone mad, huh?”

No matter the reason, this was undoubtedly an incredibly shameful situation for Rodney. Rodney's face became red because he felt as if his initiative was taken away from him.

“How annoying.”

Rodney tossed Aretha aside. It wasn't as fun as he thought it would be, but he had accomplished more than half of his goal. The destruction of both Aretha's mind and body, that was Rodney's goal.

Aretha's mind had been thoroughly harmed. Now all he had to do was get rid of her body which boasted the ability to come back to life after death. Rodney glanced at Aretha with unamused eyes.

“I heard that you can resurrect yourself. Let's see if you can resurrect yourself after you've been eaten alive by a bunch of starving dogs.”

Rodney turned his gaze towards a corner of the room where 4 drooling hunting dogs were gathered. He had starved them for a solid 2 days. They're loyal to their owner, but they're a breed of dog that's fierce from birth. Seeing as to how they're able to hold themselves back well despite there being a lump of meat in front of them, it seems Rodney's authority had been imprinted in their heads firmly.

Rodney opened the thick, iron door and stepped out into the hallway.

“My Pretties.”

He stuck his head back in the room and whistled. The hunting dogs all turned to look at their master. With a faint smile on his lips, Rodney left a single word for his dogs.

“Mealtime.”

The four hounds dashed towards Aretha like a bunch of speeding bullets. Rodney closed the door tightly behind him and locked it. Rodney was a coward who lived his life completely enamored by girly things, after all. Even if he despised her, he didn't want to witness the sight of his half-sibling being eaten alive by a pack of dogs.

Rodney took a few steps away from the door and blocked his ears with a pair of earm.u.f.fs as he leaned against a wall. A place of silence. Rodney regained his composure. With this, everything was over. The final token of love that his father left behind, his will. Rodney was the one who was supposed to receive it, not Aretha.

The money wasn't what was important. Regardless, no matter the reason, he couldn't possibly allow a half-sibling to take his father's last piece of love after appearing out of nowhere.

Rodney was the one who was supposed to receive his father's love, not Aretha. Rodney had a good motive.

‘Listen carefully, Rodney. You absolutely must receive your father's love. If you do, then I⎯'

I can come back. I'll return.

These were his mother's words. To this very day, Rodney has never forgotten these words. He'll tell her everything he hasn't been able to once she comes back. A faint smile appeared on Rodney's lips. If it were for the sake of getting his mother back, then he would do anything.

“It's cheating to look that at peace. How vexing.”

Once Rodney thought about his hounds who were probably in the middle of a feast right now, he pictured Aretha's face. He felt a pang of discomfort in his heart, so he erased his smile.

Aretha's tranquil expression earlier almost felt as if it were breaking Rodney out from his stupor. He recalled the gentle expression his mother would have on her face whenever she scolded him for doing something bad when he was a little kid. Rodney covered his face and sunk to the floor.

“No, I only did what was expected. That girl has to die···.”

The image of his mother that still lingered underneath his eyelids shook her head at him. Rodney felt a sharp pain in his chest. Rodney realized that the pain he was feeling was guilt.

‘Hey, I really wanted to get along with Rodney. He's the first blood relative I've met since my mom. But why have things turned out like this?'

The words Aretha uttered while she was under the effect of the drug flamed his guilty conscious even more.

“Mother, please answer me. Mother···.”

He might have just lost his only chance to have a real family. This thought struck him.

After burying his face between his legs for a while, Rodney came to a resolution. He had to take his earm.u.f.fs off. Rodney believed that if he didn't feel guilty after hearing Aretha's screams and the sound of his dogs enjoying their meal, then he had unquestionably done the right thing. This was the conclusion that Rodney came to.

“One, two···.”

Rodney gripped his earm.u.f.fs tightly.

“Three!”

He overcame his fear and faced the terrible sounds.

“···.”

It was silent. The iron door may be thick, but it wasn't enough to contain the sound of screaming and flesh being torn apart. Rodney's body began to tremble nervously. There's no doubt that Aretha's also a Franklin by blood. Did she kill the hounds he cherished with a Fund she had been hiding? His imagination strangled Rodney's body and raised his head.

“No, there's no way that could have happened.”

If Aretha could use alchemy, then the fake Rodney would have died at the dining table earlier. Rodney pressed his hands against his shaking knees to calm them down before approaching the door. Curiosity was leading Rodney's small body.

With trembling hands, Rodney unlocked the door and grabbed the handle. Rodney felt as if the cold sensation of the iron door was enveloping his entire body. He opened the door.

What Rodney saw beyond the door once it was fully opened was completely off from what he had imagined.

“You···. What did you do?”

Rodney was at a loss for words. His knees buckled and he dropped to the floor.

“Good girl. Rest.”

Aretha was leaning comfortably against the wall and petting Rodney's dogs. The hounds, who would normally sprint towards their prey immediately, were being more affectionate towards Aretha than they ever had been to Rodney.

“But they're never affectionate towards anyone other than me···.”

This was a bizarre scene. The dogs who were normally hostile towards everyone except Rodney were licking Aretha's wounds. One of them was on its back and acting cutely, and another was on its hind legs and shaking its front paws. The sight of his hounds all wagging their tails enthusiastically gave Rodney a sense of betrayal.

“Brother?”

Aretha had such a relaxed look on her face that you wouldn't believe she was being tortured until a short while ago. Rodney stared at Aretha blankly for a moment before he realized that Aretha had said something to him and erupted into a rage.

“Don't call me brother!”

“Then, sister.”

“Shut up!”

Aretha tilted her head curiously.

“Then tell me that you aren't my family. I'll believe you if you do.”

Her tone was calm. She was clearly referring to Rodney's alchemy.

“······What did you do to my dogs?”

Rodney glared at Aretha; however, the only thing he received in return was a gentle and aloof gaze.

“I didn't do anything.”

“Then how······”

“I'm a native of this continent. Only by half, but, at the very least, I know how to talk to animals because my mom taught me.”

Rodney got up and ran towards Aretha.

“You never met your mother. Even if you remember her, those are just false memories you made up!”

Rodney grabbed Aretha by the collar of her dress and shouted. He stepped on her shadow. Aretha had to believe these words as the truth.

“Oh, that's right. To be exact, I learned by imagining a memory of my made-up mom teaching me. My imagination is really something, isn't it? It felt so vivid that I thought it actually happened.”

Rodney was shocked. Aretha's behavior went beyond his line of expectation. If things went as Rodney had predicted, then Aretha was supposed to have gone insane.

“How is it that you're able to talk to me so indifferently?”

No, she definitely went mad, Rodney thought. There's no way she would be able to talk to him this calmly if she weren't insane.

“I'm not being indifferent. It was really painful, but these little guys asked me why I kept thinking when it was hurting me so much.”

Aretha stroked one of the hound's chin. It closed its eyes happily and panted.

“Ha?! You stopped thinking?! What kind of nonsense is that?! How do you plan to live when you're unsure whether the past that sculpted you is real or fake?!”

Rodney's complexion was becoming pale. He didn't even understand why he was so fl.u.s.tered.

“Thanks for worrying about my future, but is the past really that important?”

After he heard Aretha's response, Rodney felt like he heard a dried twig snap in his head.

The next moment, Rodney forcefully pushed Aretha down as if he intended to devour her. After pulling out a self-defense knife, which was tied to his thigh underneath his skirt, Rodney mounted Aretha's body and lowered the point of his knife down onto the center of Aretha's chest.

“Kuh.”

Rodney let out a small grunt. The end of his knife stopped mere inches from Aretha's chest.

Rodney wasn't the one who had stopped himself. Rodney's knife was obstructed by a single parchment and it could no longer move. Rodney realized that his knife-wielding hands were no longer listening to him. It was as if they had frozen in place.

“That's···.”

Aretha had quickly pulled out the will. ‘S.S.D', the last three letters on the will were glowing. It was a sign that an attempt at destroying a doc.u.ment under the influence of India Arie's alchemy and ink was being stopped.

Rodney recalled something that had happened to him before. When he received a letter from his father telling him to hold on to a portion of the will which was meant for Aretha, he tried to tear it up immediately, but his body froze in place for a couple of minutes.

“That d.a.m.n lawyer···.”

It was as if an invisible wedge were holding his hands in place. Aretha slowly moved to the side and sat up as she looked at Rodney.

“It's······ It's your fault that my mother and I ended up like this, and yet you're telling me that the past isn't important?!”

Aretha glanced at Rodney quizzically.

“Did all that really happen because of me? Aren't you just trying to find someone to blame?”

“Guah···!”

Rodney let out a hysterical scream as he tried to swing his knife; however, his hand refused to budge. Rodney shouted loudly and struggled, but he wound up tiring himself out and eventually gave up. He let out a sigh.

“···There's another knife underneath the rocking chair. Do as you please.”

Rodney spoke with a trembling voice as if he were resigning himself to his fate. He was prepared for this. Ever since he had resolved himself to kill Aretha, he knew that there was a chance that he himself could also die. Regardless, despite now facing death, Rodney was so terrified that he couldn't bear it.

“No. I'm not going to do anything.”

Aretha opened her eyes wide as she answered. She sincerely looked as if she didn't know why she would do such a thing.

“Don't you hate me?”

Rodney repeated the question he had asked earlier.

“I do. You tortured me.”

Aretha continued.

“But my mom told me that family members shouldn't hurt each other. You should embrace each other even if you hate one another, that's what a real family is supposed to be like. Even if people with pale skin are capable of hating their own families and I have some of their blood in me, she said I could live differently as long as I decide to embrace my family.”

“You don't even know if that memory is real or not!”

“It doesn't matter. Who cares if that memory is real or fake. I don't have a lot of good memories anyway, but I'm usually happy in my own way in them. In other words, nothing good will come from contemplating whether these memories are real or not. Even if it turns out that I really don't have any friends or family and no one loves me, no one can tell me that I won't be able to obtain these things as I continue to live.”

The chieftain in her memory once told her that there's nothing more foolish than being tied down by one's past. Aretha added.

Rodney couldn't shut his mouth. He had tried to break Aretha's mind by making her doubt the authenticity of her memories, but she gave up on making any decisions at all. Stopping her thought process and baseless optimism.

It was as if she had flipped over the chessboard. It was a ridiculously powerful move that was stronger than his own power move.

“Furthermore, you keep saying that I took all of our dad's last love, so I thought about it a little, but I don't think what I received from him was an inheritance or love.”

“···What?”

A forced laugh slipped out of Rodney's mouth.

“Think about it. I received a letter from him telling me that he was going to give me the inheritance. This much can be proven since I have the will right here. This means that our father, who sent me this letter, and my siblings, who each have a respective piece of the will, all exist.”

Rodney nodded.

“Aah, it also doesn't matter who's real or a delusion. What's important is this, what happened after I received the letter? My own family is now trying to kill me. I've never met them before and our mothers may be different, but we're still siblings, a family. If our father really loved me, no, if he loved us···.”

Aretha folded the will in half.

“Then why did he use his inheritance as a lure to make his children kill each other?”

Rodney couldn't answer her. He could easily imagine what would have happened to him if he were the one that was promised the inheritance. Rodney, the weakest among the siblings if you exclude Aretha, would have immediately been killed. The children of his father's legal wife, in other words, if it's the brothers and sisters he knew, then they would more than gladly take him out.

“If that's truly his love, then I don't need a father like that. I managed fine without one, and I'll continue to do so.”

Quietly, but in no way a weak voice, Aretha spoke. Rodney felt that he had received a blow.

He felt hatred towards Aretha again for having casually denied the thing which he had pursued all his life.

“I don't know how it is for you, but not me. I need our father's love. If I can't receive his love, then I need proof that I at least received his love once before!”

“Why?”

That single word bent Rodney's will. That was the question he had asked himself and answered constantly for the past 25 years.

However, as Aretha was the one who was asking him this time and not him questioning himself, Rodney was becoming boundlessly weak.

“That's···.”

“That's?”

“If I receive our father's love, then⎯”

Rodney turned his head and avoided Aretha's gaze, but Aretha had already seen the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“, my mother can come back.”

Aretha's arms wrapped around Rodney's waist from behind. Rodney felt something warm and wet fall on the back of his neck.

“I see, so that's how it is.”

Aretha was crying while hugging him. Rodney couldn't move. India Arie's alchemy had lifted so he could move his hands now, but he didn't do anything other than dropping his knife.

Rodney realized that Aretha was trying to understand his pain.

“You were lonely, huh? Like me, no one stayed at your side. You've been suffering.”

The pain of having lost their mothers and tossed away by their father, the two siblings were finally able to share it. A warmth called ‘family' which he had never been able to feel ever since his mother left flowed through Aretha's arm and into Rodney's body.

Aretha was trying to take in all of Rodney's inferiority complex and loneliness.

‘Aretha Franklin doesn't have a family.'

‘Aretha Franklin doesn't even remember her own mother's face.'

‘Aretha Franklin is a loner.'

‘Aretha Franklin lived her life feeling inferior and alone.'

‘Aretha Franklin has never been loved before.'

‘Aretha Franklin has lived her life in solitude. Even her parents abandoned her.'

‘Everyone hates Aretha Franklin.'

It finally dawned upon Rodney.

All of the words he had tossed at Aretha in order to torture her were all based on Rodney's own experience. Aretha had received all of his mental scarrings within a brief period of time and suffered.

“I···.”

Rodney came to the realization.

He just wanted someone else to understand his pain. Aretha had accepted her not-so-happy life and even Rodney's pain as her own and wound up understanding what Rodney had gone through.

“It's okay.”

Aretha's arms pulled Rodney closer to her.

‘I needed someone to understand me. No one noticed my pain.'

He couldn't possibly utter these words. He couldn't say these words to Aretha, who understood him, despite having suffered so much.

The small wish he had cherished for so long had, at one point, been dyed with jealousy and corrupted into hatred. When did things go wrong? Rodney strongly suppressed his urge to cry.

“I···.”

Rodney had no other choice but to accept it. He had tried to find the reason for his mother's absence from Aretha and not his father. The heavy pain of regret stabbed into his lungs.

“It's okay.”

In the end, Rodney turned around and returned Aretha's embrace.

“I···.”

He let out a sob. He couldn't say anything. Rodney simply cried.

“It's okay.”

“No. I tried to··· you···.”

Aretha patted Rodney's back. Her faint smile gazed quietly down at Rodney.

“It's okay. We're family. I don't know about the others, but, at the very least, I know that Rodney Franklin, the person here right now, is my brother, isn't he?”

“I···.”

“Our mothers may be different, but we're family.”

Rodney's hounds wrapped their bodies around the two siblings as if they were hugging them as well.

“To think I would have a brother who's so pretty that I want to call him sister. Isn't that amazing? I've always wanted both a brother and sister since a long time ago.”

Two of my wishes were granted at the same time. It feels like I'm experiencing Christmas and Thanksgiving simultaneously. As  Aretha said those words happily, her hand pinched Rodney's cheek.

“Ahaha, it's soft.”

“Stop it.”

The sulky face of a girl dwelled in Rodney's tear-soaked face.

Aretha nonchalantly stroked Rodney's head.

“⎯I'll fix you. I'll return you back to normal so you don't doubt your memories anymore.”

After saying that, Rodney stood up. Aretha nodded and got up as well.

Glimmering under the light, Madam b.u.t.terfly stepped on Aretha's shadow.

“All of Aretha Franklin's memories⎯”

At that moment, the instant Rodney heard a certain sound in the distance, a foreboding feeling that had been hiding in a corner of his mind raised its head. The unknown feeling of apprehension stopped Rodney from finis.h.i.+ng his sentence.

All of the hounds started to growl towards the opened iron door.

Outside the room, the sound of footsteps descending the stairs at the end of the hallway echoed. Equally paced footsteps over the stone floor of the hallway resonated as someone approached.

By the time the person behind the footsteps appeared at the doorway, the blood in Rodney's face had completely been drained.

“As I thought, the Rodney Franklin I met was a fake, huh?”

A haggard and lifeless face. An undistinguishable, red mark carved into the forehead.

A different than usual One Man Band, Bryshere Gray, was standing there.

“When did you realize?”

“Something about your fake felt off. Chewing on his manicured nails because he was angry wasn't something that a person who's desperately trying to become beautiful would do. It all made sense when I thought of him as some guy who was being brainwashed or hypnotized for a short period of time.”

Rodney groaned and took a step back.

“It's troubling for me if you suddenly act on your own, Young Master.”

Gray's voice rode up the cold walls and resonated throughout the cell.

“Go back and tell your master that I'm canceling my request.”

“That'll be difficult.”

“I'll give you your money as I promised.”

“Why are you canceling it?”

“There's no longer any need to kill her now.”

Rodney faced Gray bravely. His blonde hair, which was tied into a pair of twin tails, fluttered quietly.

“It's unfortunate that you're canceling the request. Although it's not that regrettable since you said you'll pay me as promised.”

Gray walked into the room. Rodney backed away in surprise, but Gray paid him absolutely no mind and approached Aretha instead.

“Stop. What are you doing right now?”

Rodney hastily got in Gray's way. Gray looked at him quizzically.

“Even without your request, I was ordered to slaughter Aretha Franklin.”

Gray's line of sight went back to Aretha.

“I can't help it since this is for the sake of meeting my little sister. Different from you, I actually cherish my little sister. Albeit, it seems like you do so as well now.”

His expression softened slightly as he smiled sadly. Aretha couldn't believe that that face had just uttered the word ‘slaughter'.

“This story wouldn't have a happy ending even if you didn't employ us to murder your little sister.  This is just my personal opinion, but this is quite unfortunate. Rodney Franklin.”

Gray took off his gloves. An aura similar to the one coming from the tattoo on his forehead was emanating from his hand like a haze.

“What are you doing?! Hurry up and run!”

Rodney's sharp yell finally managed to make, Aretha, who had been frozen in place, move. Aretha hesitated for a moment before she made her way out the open door.

“I won't let you go.”

Gray tried to chase after Aretha; however, he fell over the instant he turned around.

“What···?”

Rodney stepped on Gray's head as he groaned.

“Because you wound up ‘believing' that your legs are broken, so there's no way you could move. Just stay on the ground like that.”

The wings of the b.u.t.terflies sitting on top of Rodney's feet flapped their wings. It was Madam b.u.t.terfly's power that made people believe Rodney's words as the truth.

“So you're still a son of the Franklin family even if you're an illegitimate child, huh? You've been hiding your Fund.”

Gray's voice was still calm.

“Of course. It can't compare to your clones, but you can't do anything if there's no sunlight to make shadows, right? Why exactly did you come here in the middle of the night when you can't use your Fund?”

A hair-raising laugh came from underneath Rodney's foot. Rodney put more weight into his foot, but Gray's laughter didn't stop.

“It seems you're underestimating Fund Managers from the Round Table Council.”

“······Rodney.”

Aretha's voice could be heard from outside the room. Rodney saw Aretha walking backward from beyond the door. Her legs were trembling as if they barely had any strength to support her.

“No.”

Aretha entered the room again.

“How are you······”

Rodney couldn't complete his sentence. Around 20 tuxedo-wearing men entered the torture chamber behind Aretha. They all had the same physique, face, and outfit. They were all Gray's clones. A large group of Grays was there. Rodney's gaze trembled in fear.

“Bite him!”

Rodney ordered his dogs loudly as if he were trying to innerve himself. The hounds bared their fangs at the Gray in the front and rushed towards him.

“Kuh!”

The first Gray let out a pained scream. The hounds were gnawing away at each one of his limbs and yet the other Grays simply watched it happen in silence.

“Rodney!”

“Come here!”

However, different from what he wanted, Aretha stood between Rodney and Gray. It was as if she intended to protect Rodney.

“A family's love is warm.”

Red blood was dripping down from the body of the Gray whose limbs were being bitten, and yet he had a composed smile on his face. Rodney understood the reason behind Gray's smile the instant he saw the unexpected change happen to his dogs.

“No way.”

Starting from the faces of the dogs that had bitten Gray's body, a change began to occur.

The strands of hair from their furry heads started to fall out. The frames of their foreheads s.h.i.+fted and their jaws became smaller. Their long noses shrunk and their facial muscles rearranged themselves at an alarming pace.

The hounds' faces disappeared and Gray's face replaced them.

It wasn't just his face, their torsos and limbs were also transforming into the bodies of a man wearing clothes. More a.s.sa.s.sins with the exact same outfit and body as the other clones. The hounds ended up becoming more Bryshere Grays.

“What··· is this?”

Rodney's knees buckled and he fell to the floor. He briefly had the thought that he should step on Gray's shadow and try to reverse the situation, but he no longer had any strength left in his legs.

“Rodney!”

Aretha tried to help Rodney up, but he shook off Aretha's arm.

“Let go, you idiot···!”

The Gray who Rodney had been stepping on had stretched his arm out and was now firmly holding on to Rodney's ankle. Black clothes started to cover Rodney's right leg.

“Rodney!”

“Are···tha, your memories are all⎯”

The fluttering of b.u.t.terfly wings. Rodney tried to use the last of his strength to activate his Fund and return Aretha's memories back to normal.

However, Rodney couldn't finish his sentence. Bryshere Gray, the tuxedo was consuming him.

The gears in Aretha's head rotated. She was trying to think of a way to get out of this situation and rescue Rodney. Aretha's contradicting memories, which she couldn't distinguish whether were real or fake, stopped around the point when she met Rodney who was going by the name Rita.

“Bill!”

The piece of paper and fountain pen Bill had given her. Aretha dug through her pockets and, sure enough, she found a white, square sheet of paper and a writing utensil.

‘If you find yourself in a dangerous situation, then complete this.'

She recalled the few words that Bill had whispered to her before she followed Rodney here to the estate. If Bill Withers and this memory aren't fake, then he should be able to change this situation. Aretha unfolded the piece of paper.

The piece of paper turned out to be a cas.h.i.+er's check with Bill's signature on it. 600 dollars was written in the blank provided for a sum. With trembling hands, Aretha tried to grab the fountain pen and write the final symbol that would finish the check.

“I don't know what you're planning, but I don't intend to stand here quietly and let you do whatever you want.”

However, before Aretha's hand could make the final stroke, Gray grabbed her arm.

“No!”

Ever since Aretha saw the hounds transform, she had a hunch that she wouldn't be able to get out of this situation alive. Gray had found a way to get rid of Aretha's existence without having to resort to murder.

The group of Grays that had been watching in silence, surrounded Aretha. Aretha was startled by the multiple shadows that surrounded her and turned around. There was a silver b.u.t.terfly seated prettily on a single high heel shoe that was laying on the floor. Rodney's shoe had slipped off, but the owner of the shoe was nowhere to be found.

Instead, there was a new Gray who was loosening his wrists and shoulders standing in the spot.

“I'm sorry. It seems that the one and only family member who was on your side has vanished.”

Even the one ‘true family' she had left was gone as well now. Bill wasn't going to come and save her either. The rationality that was holding Aretha together was sliced apart by despair.

“This is a dream.”

Aretha mumbled to herself with glazed eyes.

The Grays looked down at Aretha's empty expression as if they were pitying her.

“It's all right. Your nightmare will also be coming to an end here.”

The Gray who was standing behind Aretha leaned down and embraced her. It wasn't long before Bryshere Gray's existence started to encroach on Aretha.

∗∗∗

“Is this a check?”

Once the encroachment on Aretha had begun, a different Gray picked up the piece of paper and fountain pen which Aretha had dropped. What an unexpected bonus, Gray thought.

However, after slowly examining the check, Gray realized that it wasn't complete. 600S. It seems that, in her urgency, Aretha had forgotten the last stroke as she tried to complete the dollar symbol. Gray didn't know why she was desperately trying to draw this symbol in this kind of situation, but he had no intention of missing out on this unexpected windfall.

With the fountain pen now gripped properly in his hand, he drew the last stroke down the middle of the S.

A completed dollar sign. A smile appeared on Gray's face as he looked at the now usable cas.h.i.+er's check.

“I'll gratefully accept⎯”

But that moment didn't last long.

A golden fist erupted out of the check and smashed Gray's face in like a pie sh.e.l.l.

∗∗∗

“I found it!”

It took longer than expected, but I finally found the will. It was neatly situated inside the one hundred twenty-eighth private safe which I had broken the lock of. I rolled up the parchment and put it inside one of my pockets before thinking about my next problem.

How am I supposed to get out of here? Oxygen deficiency. I was becoming dizzy. I had to find a way out of here soon.

I picked up a single bill that was laying around in the vault and slid it between the crack of the door which was shut firmly. Fortunately, it seems the gap was large enough to slide a piece of paper through. I should be able to get out if I transform into ‘that' instead of bills and coins.

“?!”

I suddenly felt the sensation of my body being pulled. It felt like something had grabbed my heart and was trying to drag me somewhere.

I quickly realized what was happening. Aretha had completed the check. She was in danger.

The next moment, my vision went dark and my body disappeared.

“I'll gratefully accept⎯”

Then, once I heard the annoying accent which I never wished to hear again, a fire lit my anger.

∗∗∗

⎯Several hours earlier⎯

“I don't know about the other stuff, but I really envy that ability.”

Immediately after we arrived at Omaha, I found myself uttering those words as I watched the purple circle, which we had stepped through in order to travel here from Oz's residence, disappear.

“Are you talking about Road to Nowhere?”

Ray raised a brow at me curiously. His tone sounded as if he were questioning why someone like me would be interested in that sort of thing.

“It's convenient since you can go wherever you want. Do you have a Fund like that? Like a pink door that goes anywhere.”
(TL note: It's a bit weird, but this is a reference to Doraemon's ‘Anywhere Door'.)

On the other hand, Aretha was gazing at a distant street. To Aretha who had grown up in a Native American village, just the sheer sight of a bustling city celebrating a festival was a feast for her eyes.

“I don't. Master Osbourne is probably one of the only people who have a Fund that's capable of that.”

Ray a.s.serted with a firm face.

“In the case of Old World alchemy, depending on the user's imagination and the level of their communion with the world's will, their capabilities are endless. I heard that there are other alchemists who are also capable of traveling long distances.”

So traveling long distances in an instant isn't an easy task, huh? Nevertheless, my body became like this because of alchemy, didn't it? By Old World alchemy, at that. He said that it has infinite potential, so doesn't that mean I haven't been utilizing this body fully?

I rolled up my sleeve and looked at the number that was engraved underneath. I can't utilize anything other than the money I possess. If I put together all the money I have, then I have roughly 600 dollars···. No, I have more than that. If I include the 800 dollars which I had deposited at the bank, I have 1,400 dollars.

“Wait.”

When I remembered the money I had left at the bank, I thought about something which I had never even considered before.

There's another means of payment besides paper money and banknotes.

“Bill?”

I ignored Ray's voice and focused on the sensation at the end of my fingers. Different from when I would change my body into money, I pictured myself pulling my money out instead. However, I had to go beyond this. I connected my mind with the 800 dollars that had been deposited under my name. I could definitely feel it. The money that was a part of my body was there.

If I manage to bring that money here, if I succeed in doing this, then I could use this in a similar way to send myself to where my money is.

I closed my eyes and imagined a white piece of paper. A different means of payment besides paper money and banknotes.

“Bill, you···.”

Ray's voice was shaking.

It resulted in a failure. I tried to call my money to me in the form of a check, but I ended up turning into a check instead.

∗∗∗

“I'll gratefully accept⎯”

Bryshere Gray's voice. Rage filled my mind once I grasped the situation. My fist made of gold coins which embodied my will smashed into his head.

“You?!”

Gray shouted. I immediately changed out of my check form and went back to having a human body.

There were multiple Grays with red, indescribable stigmas on their foreheads. The clones were all the same size as the actual person. I couldn't see even one of the little people from yesterday. No, more importantly, I thought this guy wasn't supposed to be able to use his Fund once the sun went down. That lying old man!

“How'd you get here?!”

Yeah, he must genuinely be curious as to how I got here.

I had come up with a new way to use this body based on two premises. It's simple.

First, when my body, which has become an unstable existence that's neither man nor money due to Ray's master's alchemy, has less than 300 dollars in it, I lose the ability to maintain my existence as a human due to an error caused by my body not having enough value. To put it in simple terms, I turn into money and can no longer go back to being human.

This means that I can't maintain my human body if a certain amount of money is separated from me. In other words, I have no other choice but to always leave at least 300 dollars whenever I pull my money out.

Second, similar to how I experimented in front of Ray earlier, my attempt at pulling out a check ended in failure. The money being used for the check was supposed to be from the total that was deposited in my account, but my body wound up turning into a check instead. From this experiment, I deduced that I couldn't summon my money from far away with Liquidation.

Based off of these two facts, I thought of a way to teleport through a check. If there's even a single line left uncompleted on the check, then it can't be used, that is to say, it doesn't have any value. However, once the check is completed, it gains value and my being, which lacks the value to sustain it, is transferred to the location of the check, similar to how my body disappeared and only left behind a check during my experimentation.

As a test, I tried taking out a blank check. As predicted, the check and my body were both able to exist at the same time.

Once I got to this point, I filled out everything on the check except the dollar sign and handed it to Aretha, so that I could immediately go to her if she finds herself in a dangerous situation and finishes the check.

Nevertheless, this situation is a bit too off for me to be explaining all that.

“Why are you holding the check?!”

Gray was the one holding the check, not Aretha.

“⎯no.”

At that moment, I heard a familiar voice coming from some black clothes that were squirming in the corner.

“This···.This isn't me. I'm not, like this.”

A sobbing voice. No, it was more like a scream.

“Get out of the way!”

I turned my arm into a clump of silver coins and swung it around in order to push aside the many Grays. Sharp objects flew at me and stabbed all over my body, but I bore with it by turning my body into bills and coins.

“Aretha!!”

So you're over there. You haven't disappeared yet.

After pus.h.i.+ng my way through the attacking Grays, I froze in place once I reached the source of the voice.

“Are······tha?”

Aretha was definitely in front of me.

However, only half of Aretha's body was left.

A tuxedo was consuming Aretha. That was the only way I could describe what was happening before me. Aretha's body and clothes were being ‘dyed' by someone else's existence.

I pulled the Gray that was holding on to Aretha's body away from her and forcefully shook Aretha.

“Get a hold of yourself! Aretha!”

Aretha's unfocused eyes turned towards me. I was taken aback by her ghastly gaze so much that I almost released her.

However, Aretha grabbed my wrist before I could even consider retreating. A vice-like grip. Her grip felt so desperate that it was almost as if she were drowning and was trying to grab anything she possibly could to pull herself up to the surface. Was Aretha asking for help?

“Wake, me up.”

Nonetheless, I ended up freezing in place. I couldn't understand what she meant by those words.

An ice pick stabbed into my wrist as I stood there holding on to Aretha in utter bewilderment. A weapon that was difficult to swing around in a small room, but was better at stabbing people with than other weapons like blades. Fortunately, it didn't hit any of my vitals.

The instant I let go of Aretha's hand in pain, a kick connected with my side.

“Kuh!”

I couldn't even fall over. Gray's other clones had caught me and held on to my body firmly.

“This is not the time for you to be s.p.a.cing out. You should also take part in her hards.h.i.+p.”

One of the clones commented as they climbed on top of my stomach and began to strangle me. He had taken off his gloves and was barehanded. A black fabric-like substance flowed down from his hands and tried to gnaw away at my body. I instinctively changed the portions of my body that was touching his bare skin into coins. The encroachment stopped.

Gray looked down at me in surprise.

“Strangely enough, it seems that my Extreme Bounds of Nature Alchemy doesn't work on you. Even a Flasko wasn't able to break out of it. Color me intrigued.”

A Gray remarked as he stood next to Aretha who was transforming into someone else. He had a thick cigar in his mouth.

“What have you done to Aretha?!”

Several knives stabbed into my waist the moment I asked that question. I immediately turned my body into bills, but I already felt a large portion of my money get shaved away.

This wasn't right. I thought this guy's Fund could only use the shadows that are made under sunlight as a medium to create clones?

“I slightly altered the characteristics behind Bryshere Gray. Normally, the only thing my Fund can do is shake the perception the world's will has about the concept of there being ‘only one Bryshere Gray', which, in turn, allows multiple versions of myself to exist at the same time, but I'm also capable of causing a misconception in the world's will which allows me to make every living thing I touch turn into Bryshere Gray as well. I don't need sunlight or shadows.”

A blackish-red smoke flowed out from his mouth. It had a strong scent. The symbol on his forehead glowed brighter.

“It's unfortunate, but it seems I won't be able to use Extreme Bounds of Nature Alchemy for much longer. Well, taking care of you shouldn't take too much time.”

I couldn't move as I was being held down by Gray's clones. As this was all happening, Bryshere Gray's consumption of Aretha had reached up to her chin. Her hair color changed and the contours of her face s.h.i.+fted. Aretha's features disappeared and Bryshere Gray's face replaced hers.

“Aretha!!”

My shout seemed to do nothing as Gray completely consumed Aretha's being up to the crown of her head.

“That's all for today.”

Aretha was already gone. A new Gray had appeared in her place.

“You···. What did you do?”

Gray took the cigar out of his mouth and put it back inside the Tubo. The Gray who used to be Aretha stood in line with the other clones as if nothing had happened. I had no other choice but to stare at the emotionless Grays as I was held down.

“Aretha···.”

“Someone like that doesn't exist anymore.”

A different Gray answered.

“The only people who are here now are me, Bryshere Gray, and you.”

The Gray behind me.

“Rodney Franklin and all of his servants.”

The Gray standing at the door.

“They've all become me.”

The Grays all said at the same time as if they were sharing a single conscience.

In the end, I couldn't move. I couldn't save her. Aretha Franklin disappeared before me once more.

“It seems it'll take some time to kill you, so I'll leave this to my clones.”

The red symbols that were on all of the Grays' foreheads gradually faded away before they eventually vanished completely. The Gray who had the cigar walked towards the iron door. He left around 10 clones in the room while the other clones followed after him. I laid sprawled out as I watched the line of tuxedos walk away.

This time. This time as well.

I ended up losing Aretha Franklin.

‘Wouldn't the world be great if money and alchemy never existed? People would probably be able to live happy lives even without these two things.'

I recalled the words that Aretha had said nonchalantly. Yeah, is money really that important? Was there really a need to throw Aretha into a dangerous situation, go after the wills first, when she already has to bear the worst curse in the world and has her own existence denied by a bunch of other people?

Despite carrying a burden heavier than anyone else, she still tried to share her feelings with me.

Was money really that important to me? Did I really have to go for the will first instead of trying to protect Aretha?

“Aretha!”

I prayed that there was still a little bit of Aretha left in either the clones holding me down or the ones leaving the room and shouted.

This might be obvious, but I got no response. Regardless, I continued to shout.

“Didn't you say you were going to live till the bitter end?! Didn't you say that you were going to live so happily that everyone who teased you would get jealous?!”

No answer. A Gray approaching me with an ice pick, a Gray that couldn't walk, and a Gray walking out the door. Aretha was nowhere to be found.

“Are you really okay with this conclusion?! If you can hear me, then say something! Aretha Franklin!”

There was no answer this time either. Only my cries resonated throughout the room before disappearing.

The only one that met my gaze was the Gray who had been Aretha until a few minutes ago. Is it this guy? It was slightly confusing, but I glared at his eyes.

“You···.”

At that moment, I noticed something peculiar.

Gray has blue eyes. I was certain of this since the first time we met on the derailed train.

Nevertheless, the important thing now was the fact that one of his eyes wasn't blue. His left eye was pink. Without a doubt, that was Aretha's eye.

“Come back! Aretha!”

I ended up shouting at the small dash of hope that had revealed itself.

The odd-eyed Gray froze in place. With his eyes wide open, the only thing that moved was his endlessly shaking pupils.

“Are you there, Aretha?!”

The next moment, all of the Grays grabbed their heads at the same time and crouched down. An otherworldy and terrifying scream began to come out from all 24 Grays' mouths.

“Kill him! Kill that one quickly!”

The clones obeyed the original Gray's command as they put me aside and rushed towards the odd-eyed Gray. They sliced, battered, and stabbed him numerous times. The odd-eyed Gray became a clump of meat in the blink of an eye. However, his gaze towards me never faltered.

I managed to suppress my confusion as I stuck to the wall and watched the one-sided violence happen before me. What was happening? If that old Oz guy or Ray were here, would they have explained the situation to me? Was Aretha still inside the Gray whose face I could still see?

However, I abandoned that hope in the next moment. Far from coming back, a horrendous event unfolded.

The hands of the other Grays that were holding on to the odd-eyed Gray started to latch on to his tuxedo. To be exact, it wasn't just their hands. Their flesh was fusing together and transforming them into a single, large ma.s.s of meat.

“Sasha···. I have to meet Sasha! Gah!”

The bloated thing which ‘used to be Gray', started to increase its own ma.s.s by absorbing the other Grays. The odd-eyed one was staring right at me. The blob of flesh filled the doorway. There was no exit. An ear-piercing scream escaped the mouths of all the Grays who had become a single blob.

The expanding flesh destroyed a wall. The ceiling collapse and crushed several of the clones that had yet to be absorbed.

I have to escape.

What about Aretha? No, it's too late. I have to get out of here by myself.

That was the first thought that came to my head as I stayed leaning against the wall. But how was I supposed to accomplish that?

“Seated Liberty.”

I hastily turned my fist into a bunch of silver coins.

However, it wasn't enough. Be it the size or weight, this wasn't enough if I intended to destroy the wall.

If that's the case.

“Raise!”

I focused on the sum that was in my fist. A fist of silver coins that was five times larger than usual appeared. Naturally, I couldn't pick it up with my own physical strength. I dragged my fist around as I turned to face the wall. From this point on, everything depended on my willpower.

I closed my eyes.

I tapped into the invisible power that connected each of the coins and moved them. Similar to when I repaired my shattered head in the train, I moved my large fist by using the fragments of my consciousness that were in each and every silver coin.

Concentrate. Sever myself from all sound.

I closed my eyes and used my willpower to swing the ma.s.sive, silver hammer which I had poured all of my money into in order to make.

My silver fist smashed against the wall at an alarming speed. I felt the shock. I opened my eyes. My fist was wedged inside the dented wall. There were cracks all over the wall like a spiderweb, but it seems that wasn't enough to break it.

The price of forcing myself to use that much strength was immense.

My wrist was shattered and my bones had pierced through my flesh and were sticking out of my elbow. Another scream pierced my ears, but it wasn't the Grays this time, it was me.

The monster flooded into the room. It used blood and oil as a lubricant to freely transform its meaty body. It had already pushed itself halfway into the room. I was clearly its target.

“d.a.m.n it.”

The instant I swore under my breath, the wall shattered.

I had forgotten about the weight of my fist that was wedged in the wall. I ended up getting dragged by my heavy fist as it went over with the wall because I had forgotten to concentrate on moving the silver coins.

No, I fell out. There was nothing but empty s.p.a.ce beyond the wall. I had destroyed the outer wall of the estate. I was falling from approximately 4 stories up. It hasn't even been that long since I fell down on the train. A bunch of curse words flowed out of my mouth.

“Liquidation.”

My body acted before I could even think. My body turned into a bunch of 10 dollar bills around the time I fell past the 2nd floor.

“It was you?”

Someone spoke to me once I rebuilt my body. I turned around in a panic and saw Ray. The position of his head was really low. I looked down. A black, wooden top. I was sitting on top of Ray's Grand Piano, Jack's lid.

“I got excited for a moment because I thought I suddenly hit the jackpot.”

On a side note, why is it so bright when it's the evening? It's also hot.

Once I raised my head, I could see flames covering the hills over Ray's shoulders. Gray must have done that to prevent Aretha from running away. This is why I hate people who do their jobs meticulously.

“Where have you been?”

“I was resting comfortably in my marshmallow when I felt a huge distortion. I tracked the source of the distortion back to here. More importantly, what about the will?”

Ray's gla.s.s eyes were glowing brightly. From this, I could deduce that this distortion was being caused by incredibly powerful alchemy.

“I have the will with me.”

“Mm. All right. You being here must mean that Aretha···.”

“It'll take a while to explain.”

The moment I finished my sentence, the blob of meat and clothes stuck its body out of the hole I had made. The flames on the hill illuminated the numerous Gray faces that were dotted all over the monster's body. Ray and I looked up at that bizarre sight and shuddered.

“Is that···.”

The monster's large legs pulled itself out from underneath the monster's body and wrapped around the building like vines.

“I think he called it Extreme Bounds of Nature Alchemy. That Gray b.a.s.t.a.r.d turned everyone he touched into one of his clones. It didn't work on me, though.”

“Extreme Bounds of Nature Alchemy?! I knew it.”

Ray spoke.

“It probably didn't work on you because the world's will perceives you as an existence that's neither man nor money, which is a relief.”

Why is alchemy so complicated? Old World, New World, and then there's Extreme Bounds of Nature Alchemy that completely ignores the laws of nature.

“Aretha was done in.”

I tried my best to keep my tone as flat as possible, but my voice trembled.

“Is that so?”

“Immediately after that, the Grays suddenly fused together into a single ma.s.s and turned into that.”

The large blob of meat supported its body by sticking its legs to the wall and hanged off the side of the estate like a cicada. Ray looked up at that sight with an emotionless gaze.

“I guess we have to find a Native American with mixed blood to replace Aretha.”

There was no sympathy in Ray's voice as he spoke. He was so cold-hearted that it made me upset.

“Someone that listens to us properly.”

Ray repeated quietly.

A long line of bones erupted from what I a.s.sumed to be the monster's back. Once I saw the monster's flesh peel off and ride up the bone frame like a flag, I realized that it was making wings.

“When I arrived after the check was completed, Aretha had already turned into Gray.”

Ray didn't ask, but excuses that weren't excuses came out of my mouth. Regardless, I knew well that this was all because of my own carelessness.

How did things turn out like this? It's simple. If I trusted my instincts and didn't let Aretha go earlier, then this wouldn't have happened.

“As I thought, I should have immediately gone after Aretha back then.”

I hit the piano keys. Regret always comes late.

“It's fine. We just have to find a girl to inherit the will in Aretha's stead.”

“Aretha died. She's not coming back this time!”

I peered into Ray's colored gla.s.ses and spoke one word at a time. Aretha died. Did Ray really not care?

“That's a good thing. The Flasko is gone, so that means we'll have fewer people chasing after us. Let's hurry up and collect the other wills.”

I let out a large sigh as I stared at Ray who was still being impa.s.sive. He may go around acting like a human, but he's still a Mojo in the end. Not only is he a Mojo, but he's also a merchant. It's only natural for him to hold no emotions towards people who aren't his friends or a part of his family.

“I understand how you feel, Bill, but we have to move right now.”

Does he really? Is he capable of understanding me? Although these questions popped up in my head, I stayed silent.

“What should we do about ‘that'?”

I asked as I pointed towards the monster above us.

“I don't know. Some Fund Managers will probably take care of it. No, if it's that big, then the distortion will gradually disappear on its own and it'll eventually cease to exist. There are times when people get consumed by their own rampaging alchemy  Extreme Bounds of Nature Alchemy. Most of the time, the Million Dollar Roundtable dispatches a Fund Manager to take care of these sort of things, so you don't have to worry. How much damage could it possibly do at that size?”

His att.i.tude towards this situation stayed consistent. It seemed like the fate of the monster and Omaha had absolutely nothing to do with him, so he didn't care. I couldn't even be surprised by that rational att.i.tude of his.

At that moment, the blob of multiple Grays shook its wings and shook a bunch of blood off of itself. A rain of blood descended upon me and Ray.

“Bill!”

I instinctively stuck my arm out the instant I heard the urgency in Ray's shout. Enough blank checks to cover both me and Ray poured out of my hand like a fountain and s.h.i.+elded us from the rain of blood.

“This is···.”

Ray muttered as he picked up a blank check drenched in blood.

“The problem is worse than I thought. Every drop of his blood also has strong alchemy infused into them.”

Once Ray took off his colored gla.s.ses, the light emanating from his gla.s.s eyes narrowed like a pin light and s.h.i.+ned down on the blood stain. Ray was using his powers to a.n.a.lyze distortions to read Gray's alchemy.

“Dear Lord···!”

Ray's expression soon contorted.

“It's a distortion that causes everything it comes in contact with to become itself. We can't hope for this to disappear naturally.”

The monster flew up into the sky once it had dried its wings. It was heading towards town. A foreboding feeling hit me. The monster disappeared behind the wall of flames.

“···Let's go after it.”

Ray uttered after staring at the flames for a moment.

“What?”

“I've had a change of mind. I'll explain things as we go.”

Ray pulled on my clothes and made me sit down on Jack's chair. Without knowing the reason, I rode on the speeding piano with Ray and went straight into the fire.

TL note: Thanks for reading the chapter. A lot of despair in this chapter. Once again, I'm sorry it took me a while to get this chapter out. I'll probably continue to juggle this with the work I'm being given from my professor for a couple of more weeks, but I should be able to reach my quota every day since my midterms are over. We'll see how things go.