Chapter 47
After a long hesitation, Erich finally spoke to him. The man who had been staring out the car window slowly turned his head. They exchanged a brief glance through the rearview mirror, and Erich forced an awkward smile.
“You finished really late today. You must be tired.”
“Not really.”
He had said it to ease the awkward mood, but the reply was that indifferent. Still, considering the man’s usual personality, it was more or less what Erich expected, so he shrugged it off and joked lightly.
“Sometimes I think it might be better to just live without thinking too much and only follow whatever orders the organization gives us.”
“If you don’t want to do it, you can quit.”
“Hey, that’s not what I mean. If you kick me out now, I won’t even have a place to go.”
With a faint, characteristic chuckle, the man turned his gaze back to the window. The conversation, rare as it was, ended blandly, and Erich felt a little disappointed. That was why he added one more line, half like a complaint.
He had no idea what kind of ripple those words would cause.
“You know, at times like this, our fate really is cruel. We don’t even have memories, so there’s nowhere to return to.”
“…Our?”
The man’s black eyes snapped back. Meeting his gaze again through the glass, Erich answered in a calm, innocent voice.
“Yes. Ours. All the members of the organization don’t have memories of their pasts, right?”
“…What?”
“You too, Commissioner. Me as well.”
A cold tension filled the car. Erich glanced at him, wondering if he had said something wrong, when a frozen voice cut through the air.
“Stop the car.”
Beneath a shabby building that looked like a ruin at first glance, Jekart stopped the car. The peeling paint of the safe house glimmered grotesquely in the dim moonlight.
They had arrived, yet he couldn’t get out of the car. His thoughts still held him in the middle of the road—together with Erich.
Didn’t you know? Everyone in the organization has no memories. You’re the same, Commissioner.
That was true. He had just thought it was a misfortune that applied only to him. He believed it was the result of a serious injury and the loss that came with it. But everyone was the same?
Erich had replied, looking more baffled than anything.
I’m more surprised you didn’t know. Just how uninterested have you been?
Sure, he had been indifferent—but was that really the only reason he had been so completely unaware? Rachel, Marcus, even Heinrich—none of them had ever mentioned this to him, as if they had all agreed not to. If everyone was the same, someone should have at least shown a bit of sympathy…
All members of the organization join of their own will, and then their memories are erased.
If your memories are erased, how do you remember that you volunteered?
Because only unnecessary memories are selectively removed. That’s why we’re all aware of it. Among ourselves, we call it “memory incision.”
At the end, Erich added in a slightly lonely voice,
I just don’t know why I volunteered for an organization like this.
The night deepened. The air was dark and cold. At the end of the desolate road, Rachel spotted a large shadow.
Since it was someone who should not have been standing in front of her safe house, Rachel stopped walking. But even when she looked again under the faint moonlight, it was the same.
“…Jekart.”
Her chapped lips finally spoke his name, and her heart felt as if it were freezing over. It was probably because of the way he was looking at her—so cold.
“Did you come to kill me?”
For a moment, Rachel thought of the handgun in her pocket. Then she dismissed it. It all felt pointless. Even if she pulled it out and aimed it, she wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger in the end.
Guess I made money, a ridiculous thought briefly crossed her mind.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he had come to point a gun or a knife at her either. The hand that strode toward her was empty. Of course, he was a man who could easily kill her without any special weapon, but still—he didn’t seem murderous.
Without a word, Rachel brushed past him and headed for the safe house. If he hadn’t come to kill her, then he must have something to say. As expected, footsteps followed behind her.
They stayed silent as they entered the safe house. Only the overlapping sounds of their steps filled the stillness.
Turning on the living room light for the first time in a long while, Rachel asked,
“Do you want something to drink?”
“No.”
“Alright, then.”
Leaving him standing there blankly, Rachel sat down on the sofa. She took care not to let her expression waver. She couldn’t help her emotions stirring in front of a man who was nothing but cold to her—but she didn’t want to show it.
“About that day—”
“Erich—”
Their words overlapped. Rachel narrowed her eyes. She had assumed that if he had something to say, it would be about that day. That was why she had tried to speak first. But Erich? Why bring him up all of a sudden?
As she was puzzled, his low, sunken voice continued.
“It’s better not to bring up what happened that day if you can help it.”
Rachel bristled at the way he spat out the words.
“Why? Aren’t you curious at all? About why I did that? At least the reason—ugh!”
Suddenly, a large hand reached out and wrapped around the back of Rachel’s neck. Jekart’s jaw twitched slightly, as if he were suppressing his anger. In truth, he was making a constant effort.
To keep from applying strength—so he wouldn’t snap the neck caught in his grasp—he clenched his teeth. If not for the tiny shred of reason he had left, it was something he would have done again and again.
For Jekart, this was superhuman restraint. But from Rachel’s perspective, it was different. Even if he wasn’t squeezing, just the presence of that hand around her neck was suffocating. Gasping for the thin, suppressed air, Rachel whimpered.
“…You’re the one who made me like this.”
A sense of injustice surged up inside her. She knew. She knew she didn’t have the right to say such things. Still, wasn’t this too much? Was it really okay for him to treat her this carelessly?
“Just what is that woman to you? What is she, that you act like this? Don’t tell me—you’re in love with her?”
Until then silent, Jekart let out a short, hollow laugh.
He couldn’t define what he felt toward that woman, but he was certain it wasn’t the kind of emotion Rachel was talking about.
He wanted her. He wanted to ruin her, to hear what kind of moans she would make with that cold, calm voice.
Most of what he felt toward women was vulgar like that. Something this base couldn’t possibly be love.
Well… it might be something similar. Like desire.
“Answer me, Jekart. That woman—”
“Whatever.”
Raising his voice slightly, he cut Rachel off. In the quiet that followed, his firm voice continued.
“Whatever she is to me, it’s none of your business—someone who means nothing to me. Isn’t that right?”
At last, tears spilled from Rachel’s eyes.
“…Did you really have to say it like that?”
“You’re the one who crossed the line first. I’m warning you—never interfere in my affairs again.”
After a short curse, Jekart released her as if throwing her away. Then, with a rough sigh, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. By the time the cigar burning between his fingers had shortened by half, the anger staining his black eyes began to fade, slowly returning to their original color—dark and still, like a lake with unfathomable depth.
“…If you have something to say, say it quickly and go.”
The conversation barely returned to order. Jekart crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray. The bitter smoke he had inhaled deeply one last time slowly left him.
“Rachel.”
“Speak.”
“I just heard something really interesting from Erich.”
The corner of his mouth, tinged with the smell of smoke, tilted coldly.
“And after hearing it, I suddenly got curious about your past.”
“What…?”
“Come to think of it, I’ve never asked. Three years together isn’t exactly a short time.”
Unable to hold back anymore, Rachel began biting down on her thumb—and then her lips. Even so, the anxiety raging inside her didn’t ease at all.
“Rachel, what kind of person were you before you joined the organization?”
“……”
“Did you have a family?”
“……”
“A hobby, maybe? A job?”
“……”
Watching Rachel fail to answer even one question, Jekart wiped the smile from his face.
“Why can’t you answer? Just like me—like someone with no memories. Hm?”
“……”
“No, more precisely… should I call it ‘memory incision’?”
Rachel’s breath stopped. The word that should never have left his lips did exactly that to her. Her hands, her eyes, her heart—all began to tremble wildly.
She still couldn’t say anything, but for Jekart, that seemed to be the clearest answer of all. A hollow, self-mocking look colored his lips and eyes.
“So that’s it.”
“……”
“My memories were erased the same way.”
“……”
“Not because of some injury.”
Each syllable of his words sounded like a death sentence. Rachel lowered her head without a word—like a prisoner who had already been hanged.
