Evil Black Maria - Chapter 97

Everyone’s crazy.

–It was a strange, foreign and bizarre room.

Huge test tube flasks lined the walls except for the entrance.

Something similar to a cloth floated silently inside them, which were filled with a poisonous green chemical solution.

However, if examined closely, it was clear that there was no cloth floating in the solution.

Raw human flesh, each with a different tattoo, were used like a canvas.

Dozens of deadly exhibits were displayed using test tube flasks as picture frames.

It was a horrifying sight that would make any sane person vomit just by looking at it.

“Nnnnngh__. Good, good, it’s great.”

Sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, there was one person who smiled with satisfaction.

He was a middle-aged man, dressed in a stylish suit, and was over thirty years old.

His name was Wickerman.

A criminal who once made a name for himself as a mercenary, but due to his excessive atrocities, was forced to leave society when he received a bounty on his head.

He was also the captain of the seventh unit of Black Maria, a group of assassins who have taken root in the heart of the Kingdom of Si Levant.

And in addition, he was the owner of this hideous room.

“Sipping afternoon tea and admiring my collection here……is pure bliss!”

Wickerman bites into a scone as he speaks to himself in a pleasant mood.

He had a pleasant smile on his face, indicating that he was truly enjoying the scene in front of him.

A feeling that can only be considered insane.

But in a way, that’s to be expected.

Wicker Man is a skilled swordsman and a self-proclaimed tattoo artist.

All of the works in this room, all of the collections, are pieces of art that he had killed, stripped off, tattooed, and displayed.

“I think the skin of people in their twenties is the best. It’s easy to work on because it has a fine texture and is sufficiently dry.”

In short, he was not sane from the start.

His eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses, glinted with a deranged glow, and Wickerman raised the corners of his mouth more and more.

–Just then, there was a knock at the door of his room.

“Damn, out of my way.”

After a few moments of knocking, the door was opened – or rather, kicked open – with such a murmur.

The hinges were twisted and broken, and the door was blown open in an arc, accompanied by pieces of wood shattered by the impact.

The partition that separated the inside from the outside disappeared, revealing the figure of the person standing in the corridor.

“Captain Wickerman. I brought you some more tea.”

A small, squinty-eyed woman spoke with a unique accent.

With her kicking foot held high and still, she held up a silver tray with a teapot and a pile of scones on it.

“Oh, good timing! I’m glad I’ve got a subordinate who knows what I want! Thank you, Pau Fa!”

“That’s saying something, isn’t it? I commend you”

As she speaks, the woman steps over the wreckage and places the tray on the table.

She is the sub-leader of the Seventh Unit, and her name is Pau Fa.

Originally from a large country in the east, she is a highly skilled martial artist who mastered the so-called “Killer Fist,” an extremely deadly technique handed down from her homeland.

However, as she is a foreigner, she is unfamiliar with the common sense of the kingdom, and apart from her eccentricities, such as kicking down doors, she was an excellent person who was capable of performing her duties.

“Really, though I’d be happier if you didn’t break down the door every time! Please fix it for me later, okay?”

“I’ll fix it when I feel like it.”

Incidentally, Wickerman knew that the day when she would feel like it would never come.

Thanks to her, his carpentry skills have improved considerably over the last few years.

“Hahahaha! By the way, Pau Fa, would you like to see my new work? It’s an art piece utilizing a twenty three year old woman~”

“I’m not interested. I respect the captain’s skill with the sword and his leadership, but I don’t have time for his bad taste.”

“Ngggh, that’s a pity! But it’s hard for an artist to be understood by the people! I’m no stranger to loneliness!”

Howling with a determined look on his face, Wickerman clutched one of the test tubes with euphoric glee.

His positive attitude, no matter what anyone says, was something to be admired.

“Captain Wickerman. By the way, you got a new request just now.”

“You didn’t need to kick down the door I’ve just replaced, Pau Fa.”

“It was in my way. There’s no such thing in my country.”

“Hahahaha, stop with the lies. There cannot be such a country like that.”

___Some time had passed since Pau Fa had left the room, and the conversation took place just as the door was finally repaired.

Looking down at the wrecked pieces of wood on the freshly swept floor, Wickerman took the papers offered to him, his mouth slightly pursed.

But as he began to sort through the papers, the look on his face changed visibly.

“…… Aw, yeah, baby. This is a pretty cool job, isn’t it?”

A request for the assassination of a major figure in the mercenary guild.

As the headquarters of the Mercenaries’ Guild was outside of Black Maria’s main area of activity, this was not a common assignment.

Perhaps this was caused by fate.

The 7th Unit, under the leadership of Wickerman, who had once been expelled from the Guild, never received such a request before.

“The target’s name is Grim Head. I’ve heard a lot of bad things about him.”

“Grim Head. Hmmm, he’s still up to his usual tricks, isn’t he? Well yeah. Every big organisation has a stain or two to hide.”

“……….just like Captain, huh?”

“Ha-ha-ha! That’s right, I’m probably the biggest disgrace to the Mercenary Guild since its inception! So I can easily recognise the smell of the same kind of scum! Grim Head’s been a total pain in the arse ever since I was in the guild!”

With a hearty, amused laugh, Wickerman puts on his hat and replaces his sunglasses on the table.

He then puts on his beloved sword, which is propped up beside him, and rises, brushing the dust from his clothes.

“Alright, Pau Fa, call the others! We’ve got an interesting job for everybody!”

“Roger that. Dealing with important people, that’s what we do.”

Bowing, Pau Fa left the room again.

Shortly afterwards there was a sound of her kicking down another door of one of the rooms, but he pretended not to have heard it.

“Good, good, it’s great. Another piece to add to my collection!”

Wickerman drew his sword and swung it with great force from the top of his head.

The sword’s edge sliced cleanly through the steel table.

“……nnngh. Yes, I think I’ll give my next one to Eliza as a gift!”

The weapon, which has become as much a part of him as the rest of his body, twirls nimbly in his hand and is sheathed again.

Humming happily, he stepped over the shattered remains of the door and left the room in high spirits.

–This was the beginning of what was to end up being the fate of the Wickerman and, by extension, of the 7th Unit of Black Maria.

They just didn’t know it yet.