Gun of Ashes

The faint sound of rain drifted in from outside; the downpour had weakened but hadn’t stopped. In the chilly night, the two eyed each other warily.

”You… were eroded?” Red Falcon asked, somewhat uncertain.

Among these Upper-Rank Knights, Red Falcon was considered the least professional. Originally just a hoodlum from the Lower City District, he was promoted by Bola by chance. On the contrary, Joey came from a family renowned for hunting Demons; the Joshua family always had several members joining the Purification Mechanism each generation, a fact he had long been familiar with.

Joey understood himself and the enemy, which allowed him to judge things so quickly.

Compared to Demons, humans are indeed too fragile, their only advantage being their sanity that had not yet gone mad.

”That nightmare…”

Joey recalled those children, those continuously appearing ghostly figures—this was no coincidence. Joey was certain he had been eroded.

”I had a nightmare… or perhaps, it was a hallucination,” Joey said.

”Hallucinations are caused by erosion, right? That’s why this damned thing started up.”

Red Falcon glanced behind him at the enormous Geiger Counter. This thing was highly sensitive, able to accurately detect the remnants of pollution, but unfortunately, it was too large to move.

Joey didn’t say anything further, nor did he notice as he slowly hugged himself. His gaze was gloomy, as if he had experienced something terrifying.

Red Falcon had obviously noticed this. He hesitated for a moment but still asked.

”You saw them again, didn’t you?”

Joey nodded with difficulty, saying nothing.

”Joey, you need psychotherapy,” Red Falcon said.

”You mean going back to Black Mountain Hospital? I won’t go back to that godforsaken place.” Joey flatly refused.

”Actually, there’s nothing frightening about that place, is there? You’re just afraid of yourself—those pasts. When you return to Black Mountain Hospital, those unbearable memories will come back to haunt you.”

Red Falcon comforted him.

”Joey, even though I joined halfway through, fighting Demons feels no different from brawling with those hoodlums in the Lower City District… It’s inevitable; we’re just cogs in a giant machine, unable to decide what we can do.”

”You shouldn’t be responsible for the children’s death. In the end, it was Gawain who killed them, unrelated to you.”

Joey stubbornly shook his head, looking pained.

”It’s different, Red Falcon. You weren’t present then… Being a bystander was a kind of guilt.”

Blood soaked through his garments; Joey suddenly realized he accidentally hurt himself during his loss of control, his elbow bruised, faint red staining the white sleeves.

He tore off that piece of cloth uncontrollably, then forcefully threw it away, as if avoiding some monster.

Clearly, Joey’s current state was appalling. Not drawing the Folding Blade to slash himself already counted as commendable self-control, and Red Falcon looked at him with some sadness, fully aware why Joey was like this.

Demons are forbidden aberrations; fighting such monsters comes at a cost. Pain might be the smallest, and the most common cost is mental torment.

No matter what kind of protection or post-battle recuperation one undergoes, the erosion will affect fragile wills, eventually breeding mental illnesses. That’s why knights in the Purification Mechanism retire not based on age but based on mental status.

Joey’s significant effect is a cleanliness obsession, although rather than calling it an obsession, it’s better to say he hated blood splattering over himself. After that event, he turned this way, and many others are similar, like Bola, who would always carry a weapon, his favorite being the Revolver named Funeral Bell.

Sometimes Red Falcon even felt Lorenzo’s obsession with Demons was also the erosion’s effect, finding weaknesses in the will, amplifying those flaws infinitely.

Red Falcon sighed helplessly, sitting down beside Joey.

Fundamentally, the Purification Mechanism is just a large group of mentally ill individuals, and Black Mountain Hospital is a large psychiatric hospital; fellow patients always resist returning to the hospital.

”Joey, you need help… at least you need to calm down first,” Red Falcon said.

But Joey ignored him; he only stared ahead persistently, though there was nothing there, seemingly hearing vague sounds, it was Gawain’s voice.

Joey had originally been Gawain’s subordinate, but after that incident, he requested to be transferred back to Old Dunling, a position he held until today.

”I just killed their parents, and the weapon was right beside them… They might even be hiding those Demons.”

That’s how Gawain spoke to him back then, holding a burning Aluminothermic Rifle, with Aluminothermic Bombs that hadn’t solidified piercing through child after child’s skull, melted iron water covering those youthful faces, casting them into steel masks.

Their bodies and their parents’ bodies were piled together in the dark, stinking room, forming a mound. It seemed the children’s sobbing still lingered.

”You’re not suited for this, Mystic Phoenix.”

Gawain said, watching Joey retching continually at the time.

”We’re fighting Demons, and fighting Demons doesn’t require pity, doesn’t need compassion, doesn’t need any messy emotions, we don’t even need humanity.”

”That bastard…”