The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating the form of a terrible beast. Its body was larger than even a lion, and its huge mouth--which practically looked like it took up half its body--had two rows of long, sharp fangs. Its eyes glared at Yumiko, shining like a flame, and the metallic feelers growing out of its head near the ears moved around as if trying not to let a single tiny change in the area escape them. Its burly shoulders and thick body were striped like a tiger, and its heavy-looking tail was plated with snakelike scales.
It was the digital beast, Kerberos. Breathing out a puff of air that had the stench of bloody meat on the petrified Yumiko, the beast roared. Yumiko's stomach twisted so powerfully that she felt almost as if her intestines were being gouged out, and her vission blurred. Unable to withstand the shock, she passed out.
Yumiko was brought to her senses by the sensation of an unusual heat, and the sound of intermittent panting. The surrouding area was dim and gloomy, and the only thing she felt was one of her cheeks pressed to the cool ground.
Oh, right! That monster...!
As Yumiko sat upright, Ohara, bound to a leather chair, entered her field of vision. She was wearing a strange helmet and breathing heavily. Next to her, Nakajima was staring at a computer display, an eerily cold smile on his handsome face.
"Nakajima..." As Yumiko blurted out her surprise, someone grabbed her right shoulder. Yumiko gulped back her words as she looked around.
Standing behind her was Takai Ken'ichi. Normally Takai was weak-willed and reasonable, but now he looked at her with a hollow stare as if almost possessed by something, and Yumiko certainly didn't think he knew where he was or could even recognize her. Furthermore, there were two other students garbed in black robes in the room, standing still with a look like sleepwalkers.
At that moment, Ohara's heavy breathing got stronger. Furiously panting and writhing her body around, she was giving off a ghastly aura that seemed as if it would pollute the soul of anyone that came close to her.
Yumiko cried out. "What is this!? What have you done to the teacher?"
Takai tried to force Yumiko to the ground, but Nakajima slowly raised his hand to stop him. At his signal, Takai's strong hand stiffly moved away from Yumiko's sholder.
"You're....Shirasagi Yumiko, was it? Come and have a look at this. It's fascinating."
As Yumiko stood up, she noticed that part of her skirt was torn, as if a dog had bitten it. At that moment, she realized that the beast she had seen earlier was all too real.
Nakajima pointed to the screen of the terminal connected to Ohara's helmet by a cable. There onscreen was a magnificent bronze statue of a youth, like an ancient Greek sculpture. No, it couldn't be a sculpture. The divinely beautiful image was calmly moving, as if life had been breathed into it. The image zoomed in to a view of the youth's head and chest. His expression displayed an intellect beyond anything a human could hope to have, and his jet black eyes looked almost like two black holes that would absorb everything they gazed on.
"That's the demon Loki." Nakajima spoke into Yumiko's ear.
"This is just CG, isn't it?" Yumiko's eyes remained glued to the screen.
"If I could think up a demon this realistic and draw it, I wouldn't have to go to school in the first place. No, this is a real demon. Though I imagine you won't believe that."
Loki flexed his muscular chest onscreen. It was shining black, and covered with scales. At that moment, Yumiko noticed that Ohara's gasps were in perfect synch with Loki's movements. The next instant, she realized what that meant and gasped.
"That's right. Professor Ohara and Loki are having a little fun together right now. In the virtual world, that is." For some reason Nakajima spat out the words as if slightly upset.
Ohara was getting closer and closer to orgasm. Her heaving chest, covered in sweat, was visible through her open blouse. Her body had entirely accepted the invisible demon in the virtual world. At that moment, Yumiko noticed a faint blue haze floating about the area of Ohara's chest. Furthermore, that haze was increasing in thickness, and an unbearable stench assaulted her nostrils. Looking confused, Nakajima knelt in front of Ohara with his handheld computer in one hand, typing on the keyboard while waving a sensor rod around the area. As Ohara cried out and lost consciousness, the blue haze dissipated.
Nakajima let out a deep sigh of relief. In his expression, Yumiko sensed a faltering of his normally rock-solid confidence.
Nakajima was not a magician. Had he been one, he would surely have known how important it was to iron out a purpose and duration of service when negotiating a contract with a demon.
However, Nakajima had neglected that. When Loki turned Kondo, Takamizawa and Iida into bloody lumps of flesh, he had been deluded into believing that he had become a great ruler of some sort.
Loki's power was tremendous. Taking the subconscious respect that the students and teachers had for Nakajima and nurturing it with his power, he made the men obey him and the women fawn over him. For a formerly powerless high school student, it was a dream come true.
Loki demanded female sacrifices. Those offered to him would groan, contort, and eventually reach orgasm. Perhaps deep in his subconscious, Nakajima took a sadistic glee in violating women. But he had always thought that what went on was not for real, as it only took place in a virtual world.
Loki could not escape from the computer. Unless one used the world's most powerful computer, the immense amount of data that would be needed to give him form would be far too much to process. He could only act within the confines of the software that Nakajima had written. So what was that blue haze that had shroudded Ohara....?
"Nakajima, you're afraid of something, aren't you?" A woman's voice sounded.
Nakajima remembered that he had been talking to Yumiko about what he was doing.
What was I thinking? I shouldn't have told her all of all that. Affixing his gaze on Yumiko, Nakajima looked straight forward. For an instant, it looked like Yumiko's eyes glowed scarlet, and Nakajima was engulfed in darkness. An unfamiliar, illusory world opened up before him.
Several reddish-brown rocky mountains towered above toward the heavens, not even a blade of grass sprouting from them. As if threaded between the treacherous mountains, a small pathway wriggled forward as far as one could see. A youth ran down the path desperately, clenching his teeth and exhaling breaths that felt like fire. He was dressed in a sleeveless flaxen robe, his long, chest-length hair tied in a ponytail behind him, and as his feet struck the dusty ground, the string of curved jewels around his neck shook. He was dressed as one might have in very ancient times.
However, the youth's face was definitely that of Nakajima Akemi. Beads of sweat ran down his cheek, wiping off the dust on it.
"My husband, why do you abandon me? Izanagi, why..." A sad voice full of misery reached the youth's ears. Reflexively, he slowed down. It seemed as if his head was trying to turn around on its own. But the youth bit down strongly on his lips, glade at the path ahead, and started running ahead. The woman behind him chased him as if dragging her feet, covered in blood from injuries sustained from the rough stone ground. Her long, graceful white arms extended forward as if futilely trying to gain ground on the youth. Her long black hair and desperate voice were both blown backward by the wind.
However, the face beneath that hair was rotted and melting, and her eye sockets were completely exposed. Maggots writhed in the space between flesh and bone, and when she gasped for breath, vile fleshy juices fell from her cheeks like tears. Her lips had rotted and fallen off, and as her exposed white teetch clenched together in frustration, she let out a shrill cry.
With the woman's cry, a bolt of purple lightning shot through the gloomy clouds in the sky, before coming down to strike at a nearby rocky mountain. A ghastly creature appeared from where the bolt struck. It was a huge woman that looked large enough to reach the clouds, with a slimy green hide and an appearance something like a fro
g. The woman stood in front of the path of the youth, extending both arms out as if to stop him.
"Yomotsu-Shikome, out of my way!" As the youth called out, the woman's squat neck jiggled like a blob of jelly, and she let out a hideous voice.
"STOP."
Seeing the youth continuing to press onwards, Yomotsu-Shikome took a step toward him. When her thick, misshapen leg struck the ground, the earth shook with a great sound. Not faltering for a moment, the youth glared at the giant form larger than a colossus in front of him, pulled a red comb from his hair, broke off one of its teeth, and threw it at the woman. The tooth of the comb lodged itself into Yomotsu-Shikome's exposed chest, and the woman's ugly face suddenly twisted into an expression of pain. As if her whole body was being affected by some strong poison, she gripped her chest in pain and vomited syrupy bile all over the ground. Even still, she tried to grab onto the youth, but her body convulsed furiously and she fell face-forward onto the ground, shaking the very earth itself.
As the youth delicately passed by the side of the huge corpse, the sound of the sad voice sounded in his ears once more.
"Please wait, Izanagi...."
"Nakajima, what's the matter!?" Suddenly brought back to his senses by the sound of someone calling his name, Nakajima saw Shirasagi Yumiko looking at his face closely with a perplexed look. Her eyes were full of both fear and pity.
What the hell just happened? Was that halluciation connected to the Demon Summoning Program in some way? Or else... For a moment, Nakajima was lost in Yumiko's eyes. But his excessively stubborn pride would not allow him to show Yumiko any more weakness.
"Forget it, just get out of here." Nakajima's words were curt and cold, as if he was trying to blow off the situation. Yumiko looked like she wanted to say something, but was unwilling to oppose him and thus obeyed.
"At any rate, I've got to figure out what that haze was." Recovering his composure, Nakajima turned on the modem and called up ISG's host computer.
HELLO NAKAJIMA, WHAT'S UP?
Checking the Craft AI's message, Nakajima changed disk drives and turned on another customized computer, an automatic translator equipped with a database of 50,000 magic and occult-related terms. Of course, Nakajima had created it himself.
> AN UNKNOWN VAPOR APPEARED ABOVE THE SACRIFICE. I'M SENDING A ROUGH ESTIMATION OF ITS FORM AND COMPOSITION. TRY TO ANALYZE IT FOR ME.
The data stored in the handheld computer traveled over the phone lines to Massachusetts. Nakajima tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk for a minute...two minutes. Five minutes later, Craft finally sent its analysis.
VOLUME AND MASS SUGGESTS AN ECTOPLASMIC CONTENT FIVE TIMES NORMAL. JUDGING FROM THE SITUATION IN WHICH IT AROSE, THE CHANCE OF THE VAPOR BEING LOKI HIMSELF IS QUITE HIGH.
> I HAVEN'T PREPARED ANY DATA THAT WOULD ALLOW LOKI TO TAKE A BODY. BESIDES, THE CAI ROOM'S COMPUTER COULDN'T POSSIBLY UNDERTAKE A SIMULATION OF THAT SCALE IN THE FIRST PLACE.
FROM THE DATA THAT YOU PROVIDED, I CANNOT GIVE YOU AN EXACT ANSWER. THE ONLY THING I CAN SAY IS THAT THE DEMON YOU SUMMONED INTO THE COMPUTER IS LIKE A GENIUS-LEVEL ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE. ONE CANNOT DISCARD THE POSSIBILITY THAT HE HAS FIGURED A WAY TO TAKE FORM HIMSELF.
> THANK YOU, CRAFT.
Sending his closing message, Nakajima cut the connection.
I can't possibly believe that Loki could have figured out a way to take a body on his own. Still, I had better start working on some new technology that I can use to take complete control of him.
Thinking to himself, Nakajima walked over to the window and looked up at the black expanse above.
PART 2:
TRANSFER
CHAPTER 1
It was midnight at Marunouchi, yon-cho-me. Buildings with darkened windows rose up against the skyline. Not a soul could be seen along the walks under rows of gingko trees, and the only presence was that of flitting moths attracted to the streetlights, shedding their tiny scales on the sidewalk below. The office district was so quiet that you could almost hear those moths bumping into the iron lampposts.
But the silence outside apparently made no difference to the big trading firms that held the weight of the economy on their shoulders; even now, there was still light coming from the twelfth floor of the Mitsune Productions building. The Third Export Division managed all trade with Europe. There were only two weeks left until August, when the EC Import Regulation Act would take effect. In a last-chance rush to get exports out, all the department's traders were being forced to work at full capacity around the clock.
Inevitably having gotten tired at this hour, some people were taking catnaps on the sofa, whereas others had gone out for a bite at the ramen shops near Tokyo station. Inoue narrowed his bloodshot eyes and inputted the next day's projected exports into the online system's workstation that connected him with the overseas export system. But with his metal-framed glasses covered in fingerprints, he didn't look nearly his normal stylish self.
"How much is left?" Hashiguchi, who had been napping on the sofa, propped himself up on his elbow and called over to Inoue. His voice clearly stifled a yawn.
"It shouldn't take too long--all that's left is the household electronics slated for shipment to France." Using his vinyl code sheet as a fan, Inoue blew air onto his chest through his V-neck T-shirt.
"So how much have the exports increased by?" Rubbing his swollen eyelids, Hashiguchi looked over Inoue's shoulder at the screen.
"200% more than last year, most likely. When I think that all this might get stopped at customs, it scares me."
"Some friction has to be expected. After all, in two weeks, we're going to take a 90% hit off of last year's exports."
"The kacho and the others are sure taking their time. How long does it take to eat a bowl of ramen? I bet they stopped for drinks afterwards."
"Why don't you have a rest. I'll take over with the data entry for a bit." Hashiguchi patted Inoue on the shoulder and smiled sympathetically.
"OK then, thanks." As Inoue stood up and stretched, the modem rang. The LED signalling data transfer from the national branch office lit up.
"What do they want at a time like this?" Hachiguchi said.
"Oh, I'm sure they just want some of our leftover stock. Of course with all our efforts focusing on exports right now, this isn't the time for that." Already getting ready for a rest, Inoue had no other excuse to make.
"No need to get upset at them...the poor guys at the branch office are still working at this godforsaken hour, just like us."
While soothing his coworker, Hashiguchi swiched over to the disk drive and turned the computer over into receive mode. The list of enumerations vanished, and the screen turned completely green. Normally at this point, the ID number of the person sending the transmission would be displayed onscreen. However, the display was changing many colors and displaying strange unknown symbols instead.
"What the heck is this?" Unusual letters scrolled down the screen, but the two of them had no way of knowing that it was ancient Hebrew. Presently the screen displayed an image of a standing statue of a man.
"I'd like to tell those guys at the branch office not to play stupid jokes in the middle of the night like this." Looking disinterestedly at the screen with a sidelong glance, Inoue lit a cigarette.
Perhaps it was because of the tobacco smoke, but the two men did not notice the musky smell that started seeping through the office. Still, even as a prank, this mysterious statue was pretty well-done CG. A body with the symmetry of an ancient Greek sculpture. Long, black hair. Vivid, rose-colored lips. And his deep black eyes had an unfathomable devilishness about them.
"Not that it makes any difference, but this is some pretty high-level CG here," said Hashiguchi.
"Is it CG? It looks almost like a photo." As Inoue looked closely at the display, the unpleasant smell of singed cigarette filter wafted through the air.
"Oh! Sorry 'bout that." While Inoue turned
his attention to putting out his cigarette, the man drawn on the display smiled and pointed at Hashiguchi. His finger was tipped with a claw that looked almost like a bird of prey's talon. This was about the time where the concept of polygons first started becoming widely-known. Hashiguchi was enthralled by the graphics--graphics that would normally be impossible to display without the use of a massive supercomputer.
Right about that time, Hashiguchi noticed that the display looked like it was damp, as if covered in a layer of condensation. As he tried to wipe off the sreen with his hand, he felt something stick to his fingertips, and jumped back in surprise. Something slimy was stuck to his fingers, and as he shook them violently, a heavy-feeling, disgusting jelly-like substance fell to the floor with a splat.
"Ugh! What the hell is this!?" Turning around at Hashiguchi's cry, Inoue was hit with a wave of shock and stood still, dumbfounded. Beneath the skin of the pink protoplasm, a mesh of green-colored veins spread out, and the whole blob pulsated like some sort of organ torn out of its host. The repulsive lump of flesh made a squishing sound as it started to approach the two men. Backing up, Inoue stumbled over a chair and sprayed the contents of his stomach all over the floor.
"Inoue! Get a hold of yourself!" Grabbing his coworker's arm to keep him up, Hashiguchi ran toward the the door. As he turned, the gelatinous blob lashed out tentacles covered in a viscous sticky fluid like red jam, and in an instant grabbed onto the legs of both men.
"Shit!" Crying out, Hashiguchi grabbed files and the phone off his desk--any object within reach--and began throwing them at his attacker, and when it showed no fear, grabbed a chair, lifted it over his head, and brought it crashing down on top of the thing. However, the skin of the gelatinous blob simply pulled the steel chair into its body, where it was quickly dissolved right in front of Hashiguchi's eyes.
Digital Devil Story: Reincarnation of the Goddess Page 4
