I Clean Gods to Pay the Rent

0010 Turning Point

    So this is the power of an anomalous object...

    Through his link with the Soot Bishop, having observed the world through its "eyes," Cassius understood, dimly, how it had locked onto the bandaged woman's position from two whole streets away.

    Within his own "soul sight" — a radius of roughly two kilometers — every person's soul wore a distinctly different color. Not the physical, red-orange-yellow-green kind, but a marvelous shade beyond naked eyes and the light spectrum, reachable only by souls.

    The joyful, positive souls showed shades pure and blazing; the dark, paranoid flame-sprouts showed shades murky and dim.

    The tall, bandage-covered woman before him, though — her "brightness" was astonishing, and at the same time her dark side was unfathomably "deep." Light and dark were carved apart clean as a border, yet at every single moment they were madly tearing at each other. Among a crowd of drab gray souls, one glance was enough to pick her out.

    Warm-hearted, gentle, friendly, motherly... the goodwill she'd just shown him wasn't a put-on. But the coldness, the ruthlessness, the hatred and the madness on her dark side were every bit as real.

    Cassius genuinely struggled to imagine how emotions that were nearly perfect opposites could be crammed into one person's soul without grinding each other away.

    ...

    'Ha ha, kid — floored by yours truly's power, are you?'

    Seeing Cassius stand silent for a good while, the Soot Bishop assumed a first taste of "soul sight" had blown him away; it stiffened its neck, insufferably smug:

    "Sure, somebody went and killed me once, but yours truly used to be a demon that made the rankings. One glance and I could stir up the malice in a million living hearts! Even down to just two horns, I'm still not something your average trinket can measure up to!"

    "Mm-hm..."

    Nodding along, Cassius sighed, half sincere and half flattery:

    "Even leaving aside that malice-amplifying trick of yours, just being able to see every soul within two kilometers is already impressive as hell. With your ability, I'll definitely be able to find that runaway Contaminated!"

    Damn right!

    At Cassius's flattery, the Soot Bishop couldn't help tipping its head back with pride.

    Sure, yours truly has no real combat power — couldn't even beat a country farmer with a pitchfork, damn near got pinned down and bent over for a go — but an ability like this is practical beyond doubt, especially the full two kilometers...

    'Wait, what? Your soul sight's diameter is two kilometers?'

    At that, Cassius blinked, then shook his head:

    "No, it's not."

    Damn! That scared the daylights out of me!

    At Cassius's denial, the Soot Bishop let out a long breath.

    All thanks to that damn red-haired broad, it had gotten terribly weak — its sight diameter was down to barely over two kilometers. If this kid had a two-kilometer diameter too, wouldn't he be nearly caught up with me? Thank goodness he doesn't...

    "The two kilometers — that's my soul sight's radius."

    "..."

    ?!

    At Cassius's words, the Soot Bishop and the bandaged woman both froze — the Bishop especially: the shock and jealousy on its black face were about to overflow outright.

    Your sight radius is two kilometers?! Yours truly's diameter is only two damn kilometers! What the hell! I lend you my ability, and you run it better than I do?

    "Hold on."

    Glancing at the Soot Bishop — shock and fury warring on its face — the bandaged woman, guilt-faced only a moment ago, abruptly went serious, pointed at the Bishop, and asked, astonishment all over her face:

    "Did you just win its approval and gain its ability? Do you have soul sight now too — can you see the color of other people's souls?"

    Bah! Like hell I approved of him! Give the ability back this instant! The loan's off!

    Under the Soot Bishop's envious glare, Cassius nodded:

    "Yes. Your soul, for instance, is black-and-wh—"

    "Prove it to me!"

    Cutting Cassius off, the tall bandaged woman gripped his shoulders hard, her eyes blazing like searing fire, and said, agitated:

    "I don't know what my own soul looks like, so don't bother telling me what you saw. Since you've gotten that goat's ability — amplify my malice and let me feel it!"

    "..."

    Looking at the bandaged woman before him, excitement filling her eyes, feeling the blacksmith's-vise grip on his shoulders, Cassius's own breathing quickened.

    It seemed... she had something urgent that needed the Soot Bishop's power? Then if I used that as my bargaining chip, could I get her to...

    "I'll help you!"

    Reading Cassius's thoughts with ease — before he'd even opened his mouth — the bandaged woman, who a minute ago had refused flat-out and sworn she'd never take a risk, promised, her eyes blazing:

    "Prove it to me, and promise to help me once more later on, and I'll head for the hospital this instant!"

    "Deal!"

    With the situation turning on a dime, Cassius was overjoyed. He immediately hugged the goat head tight, tried letting his will slip out, caught the dark side of the bandaged woman's soul, and gave it the gentlest tug.

    BOOM!!!

    Like a long-strangled volcano finally blown apart, countless ferocious black "flames" detonated in an instant, roaring along Cassius's will and burning his way.

    And the bandaged woman's gaze changed in a flash — through eyes that had brimmed with excitement and joy, something sharper than a knife, colder than a glacier, something that made the soul tremble, spread in an instant.

    One look into her eyes, and Cassius's breath jammed in his chest — for the first time in his life, he understood what "killing intent made solid" meant.

    The way the bandaged woman looked at him now went beyond anger and hatred — like she was staring at a lump of rotten meat ground up with bone and blood, as if the next second she'd pounce and tear him to absolute shreds!

    "I'm sorry..."

    Withdrawing her hands from Cassius's throat, looking at the handprints quickly darkening from red, the bandaged woman apologized, her eyes full of guilt:

    "I... lost control there for a moment... I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you — money, or anything else, whatever you want."

    "No... cough cough... no... cough cough cough!"

    So... I really did almost get strangled to death just now?

    Once he'd recovered from that look in her eyes, Cassius — throat in killing pain — waved his hands again and again while doubling over in a dry coughing fit, his eyes full of survivor's relief.

    Thank goodness he hadn't dared use much "strength" — just the lightest little tease. If he'd stirred up any more of the bandaged woman's dark side just then, she might genuinely have strangled him on the spot.

    'Heh. Idiot.'

    Watching Cassius cough his lungs out, the Soot Bishop — which had silently spectated the whole thing — couldn't resist a grin, the way a man watches his rival slip on the ice, and jeered:

    'You can't even redirect your target's malice onto someone else. Just hurry up and give the ability back — a fine ability like mine is pure waste in your hands!'

    Give it "back" to you? Meaning the ability you already lent me — you can't take it back yourself?

    Having keenly caught the information buried in the Bishop's words, Cassius filed the intel away in his head, then asked, all earnestness:

    "Could you teach me how to..."

    'No!'

    Refusing him even the chance to finish, the Soot Bishop — sour about being outshone by a human — grumbled:

    'Give it up! All deals with yours truly are hereby terminated!'

    'Even if yours truly never smokes another Old Crow again, gets bullied by that red-haired broad every single day, or gets tossed back into the sheep pen in Wales — I will never teach you one single thing more!'