CHAPTER 8

    Total chaos reigned in Flynn Gilbit''s dining room. Walls, ceilings, and even the window frames were completely drenched. The room was filled with the aroma of tea.

    But what was with those tattered rags that were crawling across the floor? It was a thoroughly cut up Nigel Weiz Maxine. Propping himself against a wall, he was finally successful in pulling himself upright. With a blood-smeared face, he looked down at me.

    "Don''t come too close!"

    Maxine pressed the back of his head against the wall. With his eyes closed, he tilted his head back. "I don''t have any serious wounds. It''s quite impressive that you were able to inflict these precise cuts on me. But who the devil are you? You seem to be a colleague of Adalbert''s."

    "A glance at his hair and eyes should be enough to answer that question," Adalbert grumbled.

    Only now did I notice that my cap had been torn from my head. It was lying in a corner. Murata picked it up and tugged it down over my skull.

    "So his hair and his eyes are black," murmured Maxine. After reaching his conclusion, he looked meaningfully in another direction. He''d probably had it up to his eyeballs with me already.

    Adalbert raised his hand as if to clap a good friend on the back.

    Mutely I turned away, seeking open spaces, but I was held fast by the shoulder.

    The man who once wanted to put the brand new Demon King on ice was highly amused by my rash behavior -- just like back then, when we met for the first time.

    "Captain Crusoe, if I''m not mistaken? I''ve got a couple questions for you."

    "I don''t want anything to do with you," I said. "Gunter and Conrad advised me not to get involved with you!"

    "Gunter and Conrad, aha. Where have those two got to? What is an inexperienced guy like you doing hanging around an area so far removed from the Empire, with an even more inexperienced comrade in tow?"

    Since the conversation had come around to him, Murata answered in a genial, conversational tone: "Oh, pleased to make your acquaintance -- I''m Robinson. I was in the same class as Crusoe in the second and third year of middle school."

    "Are you also a demon?"

    "Excuse me? A demon? Well, yes, I do have a modem at home."

    It''s a good thing his hair was bleached. It was just about impossible to tell that his hair had been black originally.

    I finally brought myself to ask Adalbert a question: "Why are you in cahoots with this homicidal maniac?"

    "Homicidal? Him? Nah, he''s just got a few bad habits."

    Murata had been watching us for a while with a smile. Now he clapped us both on the shoulder. "Well, look at that! In spite of the age difference, you two get along with each other just great! That''s a really nice story. Two people from different nations celebrating a grand reunion in a foreign country. What karma! Maybe you were teammates in previous lives. It could be, right?"

    "Mu... Murata... please..." I stuttered.

    I found it hard to believe there could ever be a team, in this life or any other, that would have room for the both of us.

    Suddenly, Adalbert grabbed me by the neck and stuffed his hand down my collar. He was after the demon stone that had belonged to his previous fiancee. The demon stone changed color just slightly in his hand.

    I screamed.

    My whole body was in pain. Something was tearing my arms and legs apart. Blood sprayed from my fingers. All my fingernails felt like they were being torn out. My spine was bent backwards. My head hung from my neck as if it were going to fall off at any moment. I was yanked back by the hair. Something shot hot and cold through my throat, my windpipe, and my intestines. Claws gripped at my heart and my head felt like it was on fire.

    But I wasn''t screaming in pain. I was screaming in anger.

    One half of my field of vision was snow white, the other clear as glass. It was as if four rifle scopes were attached to my head. It seemed to me that I was in the center of a powerful sea. Through the pressure of the surging waves, everything was washed in water. The all-encompassing destructive frenzy of the waves swept the world away, but I myself was surrounded by a man-height, soft, clear wall.

    There was something at my hips; it had grabbed onto me. I had to make sure it found shelter inside my protective wall. Otherwise the raging storm would immediately engulf it, throw it against a cliff, and crush it. And if it was no longer with me, I would lose the power to scream. And if I couldn''t scream any more, my anger would go away, and without my anger, I wouldn''t be who I am.

    She walked along with bare feet.

    The third story had been almost completely destroyed, even windows and walls had been broken through. Water fell from the ceiling to the floor unceasingly.

    This was how it had been in the flood of the century, when the whole estate had been flooded. But no, if she remembered correctly, the water had only reached the second story then. The stone walls and ceilings had held out. Only the window panes and wood frames had been destroyed. It was nothing compared to the doomsday scenario that was playing out before her eyes at this moment.

    When one wants to bring the entire world under their power, many things will stand in their way.