People live to love someone else, his father had said. Bruder thought that he had believed that when he was a child. In front of him were his beloved father and mother, and his sister to protect.

　Back then, the world was complete in his arms, and nothing was left behind. I thought that this world was full of love and that loving my neighbor was all that mattered.

　But I was sure that somewhere deep inside I knew. I just didn't want to see it, so I didn't. I just wanted to look away, so I kept looking away.

　The existence of love is too heavy to be held by mercenaries, people who make a living out of exchanging human hearts for gold, people who take pleasure in taking something from others.

　That is why my father, who was a plunderer but loved people with all his heart, was so twisted that he ended up losing everything.

　My mother's life, my sister's life, and even my own life were taken by the man I called my best friend, and my life was ruined. Bruder remembered well what his father had entrusted to him in his final days.

　Nonsense. Really, it's crap. It must have been hard for him to breathe, but he still said it.

　He should never have entrusted him with such a thing. Rather than leaving it to him at the last moment, in pain, sobbing, crying... I should have never told her. It would have been much easier to die that way.

　I should have told her. People don't live to love. We just live out of habit. I, my father's son, should have told him.

"I'm sorry, man. I want you to be happy.


　I'm sorry.


　It's a great way to make sure you're getting the most out of your vacation. All of this is but a fragile, crumbling childhood.

I'm not sure what to say. Will you not?

　The woman's voice echoed. The voice through the armor echoed and distorted, but it still sounded clear and clear, showing how well she had been raised. She must have had a good childhood.

　Oh, thank God. I'm glad. I'm so glad. You must be so happy now. Knowing that you've been surrounded by love and nurtured so happily up to this point. I'd like to congratulate you with open arms, Vesterine, my dearest sister.

　Bruder's eyes narrowed. His gaze, sobered up after a long time, pierced Vestalines with a strange sharpness.

　If that's all there was to it, then... If only you hadn't called that man, the man who took everything from you, your father.

　If only you hadn't been there to smile at him, I'm sure you could have died without needing to cling to this world.

　Bruder's cheeks twisted. His skin trembles, creating a crooked smile. He can always make it look like he's comfortable, like he's confident. It was one of Bruder's specialties. His almost frightened fingers regained their strength, and the needle sucked at his skin.

　That strange employer, Lugis, and his companion must be watching somewhere. Let's show them what we've got, shall we? Beautiful, beautiful affection.

I'm sure you're not the only one who has a problem with this.

　Instantly, the space distorted.

　A spear axe from Vestalinu's arm swung down in a straight line at Bruder, twisting even his vision. There was no mercy, no embarrassment. It was not to kill him or tear him apart, but to destroy him with a single blow.

　Not even a moment of spitefulness was given to Bruder. If he blinked, his heart would fall into the hands of the Reaper in that short time. That was the gut feeling for sure. But this was the moment Bruder had been waiting for.

　His brown hair swayed and crossed his gaze. Already, Bruder's body was in motion.

　Needles shot out from Bruder's fingertips like living things. Like Vestalines' spear-axe, it neither roared nor forcibly tore through space. Rather, it is much quieter, no more audible than a whisper.

　And yet, it can certainly reap a man's life. If half of its body is buried in a vital spot, it can easily kill a man. The momentary intersection of the roaring spear-axe and the silent long-hand.

　The spear-axe aims for the enemy's skull, the long-handle for the small gap in the neck of his armor. As if it were their duty to do so.

　A single flash of attack, without pausing for breath. Oh, I couldn't have done that with my drunk arm, Bruder thought, showing his teeth.

　--And so, the tip of the long needle gouged the flesh.

　Blood spurted. The needle had indeed pierced Vestalinu's flesh.

　But it was a trick, I suppose.

　There must have been less than a second between the time Vesterine saw the needle and the time he made his decision. And sure enough, Bruder's fingertips shot out at his neck. It should have.

　And yet, now the needle was in Vestalines left wrist, devouring the flesh as it pleased. There's nothing wrong with Bruder's fingertips. His vision was better than it had been in a long time, and the five fingers of both hands had regained their sense of touch.



　But Vestalinu went above and beyond, twisting just a little. With that, Bruder's final blow was blocked.

　A thud sounded in Bruder's ears. Vestalinu's spear-axe was close at hand.

　Oh, I see. This is unstoppable. No matter what it takes, it will not stop. Even if I used my entire body as a clasp, it would gouge the ground.

　It's pathetic. I was prepared to go toe-to-toe with my sister, but she completely blocked me, and now I'm going to die. Truly, I am pathetic.

　I couldn't hear my father's last wish, I couldn't make my mother's regret go away, and I couldn't pull my sister Vestaline out of that sweet nightmare.

　In the end, there was nothing left for him to do. Finally, Bruder closed his eyes. This is good. It's okay. I've been living by inertia, and it's too bad I don't want to live now. If all I had to do was get inspired and everything would be fine, there would be no word for effort in this world. What a fitting end for a drunkard like me.

　I have nothing to fall back on, nothing to cling to, and not much will to live. There was no way I could get anything out of it.

　My sister, Vestaline, has everything. She has a father she loves, she has men, and she has the ingredients for happiness. Even if it's only a lie, it's one thing to be happy if you're deceived until the day you die.

　Suddenly, Bruder remembered a strange client behind his eyelids. A client who called himself Lugis.

　Strange, human. He was strangely friendly, and he didn't like the way he said things as if he could see right through him. I was annoyed that he acted as if he knew me and understood me.

　Yeah, but I don't know why. I don't know. But I didn't hate him.

　Maybe there's some kind of weird connection with him. Must be. I wish we could have met in a different way, Bruder muttered deep in his chest.

　A shock hit his slender body.

　The wide-brimmed hat on his head flew off, and his brown, outstretched hair brushed the air.