Lundenburg's Academy of Investigation was a school first and foremost. And like every school, it had a simple rule: no running in the corridors.
It was a simple rule, but one strictly enforced at the academy. Running in the corridors was pretty much a bad idea as it could call forth something—what exactly, the boy didn't know. All he knew was that it wasn't good and would start running after you.
Unfortunately, to reach the top of the school and the clocktower there, one had to take a long succession of stairs and hallways. To get there quickly, they had to alternate between running on the stairs and walking in the hallways.
"Or you can have someone else run in your stead," said his teacher, hopping onto Tears's back.
The boy stared at her, dumbfounded.
"You don't mean to…"
"Tears will give me a piggyback ride to the clock. We can't waste time with this stupid law."
"But won't that…"
"Don't worry," she cut in, a proud smile on her face. "It won't catch us! I guarantee Tears is quick enough to escape if it appears. Isn't that right, Tears?"
"But of course," Tears replied, also smiling with pride.
"Uh… huh…"
The boy couldn't shake the feeling that the two had pulled a similar stunt before.
"Still," the woman mumbled, looking at the ceiling, "how clever of them. Hiding a Name-Eater in the clocktower of Lundenburg's Academy. Even if someone noticed, it would take forever to get there normally. I wonder how they managed it without anyone noticing…"
She let out an audible sigh. For now, it was pointless to ask herself that.
"Stay here for now," she said to her student. "We'll take the stairs first and run in the next hallway. That way, the thing won't catch you."
The boy's eyes widened. "Huh? Doesn't it only follow the one who's running?"
"Uh… well, yes, but if it sees Tears, there's a chance it will just change its target."
"I… am not sure I understand."
"I'm not asking you to! Anyway, you might need to run if it starts following us, but don't overdo it! Hopefully, we'll finish before you join us up there."
She tapped Tears on the shoulder.
"Partial release."
"Understood!"
A second black tear ran down Tears's right cheek, and his face morphed into a feline-like shape. His legs transformed, his shoes replaced by slender paws. His entire body became that of a humanoid cheetah clad in a black costume.
"See you," he said before taking off.
A gust of wind and dust hit the boy, forcing him to close his eyes. When he opened them, the two were gone.
"*Cough**Cough*… That guy… he could've avoided causing a gust of wind, couldn't he?"
He coughed again. The school was far too dusty. Had no one cleaned it over the summer break? He couldn't help but wonder.
As he mused, something caught his attention in the corner of his vision.
"..."
The boy froze. At the end of the hallway was a ball. A red ball. A giant red ball of pulsating matter with smiling faces.
"I."
"I?"
"We."
"We know."
"You."
"Yes!"
"I."
"Know you."
The faces on the ball spoke one after another, completing each other's sentences. The pulsating mass moved out of the shadows, revealing long tendrils oozing red liquid. The tendrils levitated, making a sinister dragging noise as they approached.
"Oh boy… What is this now?"
The boy didn't expect a reply. Judging by the circumstances, this must have been the creature that followed students who ran in the corridors.
"That guy… Did he start running here so I'd be chased?"
It seemed like something Tears would do. The boy never got along with that particular guardian beast—not that he got along with any of them.
Tears was just too protective of his master. The boy often wondered if that guardian beast even knew he was just one of the woman's pets. Maybe a useful pet, but nothing more. Not a friend, not a potential lover, just an animal granted human intelligence. That's what guardian beasts were, at least to him.
In truth, the boy knew his views on guardian beasts were a bit too radical. Such views didn't exactly help you make friends these days. But he hadn't expected to be hated to the point of being left to deal with this floating ball of flesh—especially while injured.
"If I survive, I'm going to separate your legs from your body," he mumbled, extending his left hand, his eyes glowing yellow.
A gate. A path. An evil eye. The ability had many names.
The boy's power was a peculiar one, even among his peers. It allowed him to see "errors" in the fabric of reality. Or at least, that's how he made it sound to complicate things.
In truth, it allowed him to see the world as if it were made of knitted yarn. All he had to do was find a loose thread and pull it to "unravel" anything into a single strand of "wool." Theoretically, he could win any encounter in a single move.
"Hm… It doesn't seem to be running toward me. Maybe if I don't run, it won't chase me? Still, it's coming this way…"
He wasn't sure how to handle the creature, but as long as it moved slowly, he felt he could win. All he had to do was grab one of its tendrils and pull the thread. Simple.
"...Nah, let's run."
The boy turned and walked up the stairs. After a few seconds of thoughtful analysis, this was his conclusion.
Even with his powerful ability, too many factors could go wrong.
First, his ability only worked on solids. There was no proof the creature wasn't ethereal or made of liquid. If it wasn't solid, he'd fail and likely die.
Second, he needed direct contact with his fingers to unravel something. He had trained to act quickly, but the tendrils outclassed him in range. If they moved too fast, he'd fail and perhaps die.
Third, the creature could resist being unraveled. Sentient beings could refuse, making the process harder. Since the creature talked and could recognize people, as his teacher had mentioned, resistance was a likely issue. If it resisted, he'd fail and probably die.
Lastly, he really, really didn't want to touch it. If he did, his stomach would betray him, and he'd die for his trouble.
"This is a strategic retreat," he muttered. "Yeah, there's no time to waste with this thing."
He glanced back to check if the creature had sped up. Thankfully, the stairs remained empty. All he could hear was the faint sloshing noise of its movements.
He sighed in relief. "What? It's not even good at chasing people."
A smile drew itself on his face. It seemed the school's law about running in the corridors was just a little tale to spook new students. Sure, the thing that appeared was creepy, but you could easily outrun it. There was no need to be so afraid.
"Oh? Who might you be, young man?"
A woman's voice came from up the stairs, but when the boy turned to look, he found only air.
"Hm… P? I do not remember us having a member going by that name… Oh! Did you perhaps join during the operation?!"
The voice now seemed to come from behind him, but, again, he didn't see anyone when he checked. That's when he realized…
"Why are you running away, little P? Did you not meet him? My card knight, my beautiful rose!"
…The voice was coming from inside his head.
"Come! Join him! I am certain you will enjoy being a part of such a beautiful piece of art!"
The boy's legs suddenly felt heavy. As if puppeteered, he began walking down the stairs.
"Wha—What is going on?" he asked, struggling to regain control of his legs.
"Yes, yes," the voice said. "Join them, join my beautiful family! I know! I know! You can wait! Here! Let me help you!"
The boy's legs started moving faster. Slowly, he began trotting, then running toward the ball of pulsating red.
"Yes! Just like that! Join your brothers! Become as beautiful as them—huh?"
The voice's excitement turned into confusion. The young man she had sent running toward the pinnacle of her art had fallen to the ground just a few meters away from it.
"Oh my. Did you lose balance? I suppose my control over your body is not the best. Hm, perhaps you did not follow the instructions and wear the mask properly? Why, this is regrettable. But do not worry! I can still make your legs move! Now, rise from the ground and fuse into this beautiful—"
"Excuse me for a second," interrupted the boy.
He pulled on a loose thread on his forearm, unraveling it. A second later, his right arm fell to the ground, lifeless.
"...As I thought, I don't hear that voice anymore."
As he had suspected, the voice was controlling him through his right arm. Was it because he had touched that mask? His teacher would surely be angry if she found out.
At least he had gotten rid of the infected part, though at a significant cost—he now lacked both an arm and a leg. He'd had to unravel his left leg earlier to stop himself from crashing into the red mass. Sure, it was temporary, but for now, he was immobilized.
"We."
"I."
"We are."
"Beautiful."
"BeAutifuul."
"Hurts."
"Beautiful hUrts."
The boy redirected his attention to the red mass just a few meters away. Now that it was closer, he fully realized the horror of it. The faces embedded in it looked disturbingly familiar.
"...So that's how they do things, huh?" he mumbled, his eyes burning with a cold yellow glow.