042 Never Existed
In that single, devastating instant, it felt as though every bone had been pulled from Lloyd's body. The invisible framework that had held him together collapsed, and he sank limply back into his chair, flesh suddenly too heavy to bear.
He was Medanzo.
He was Subject 047.
Everything Lloyd had clung to since the Night of the Holy Descent—his fury, his grief, every unforgivable sin he had sworn to erase, even Lloyd Holmes himself—crumbled into dust.
A bleak emptiness welled inside him.
He had sacrificed everything to wipe demons from the world, only to discover that he himself was nothing more than fiction.
A delusion.
A meaningless, hopeless delusion.
Pity filled every pair of eyes in the room. They were no longer looking at a hunter. They were looking at a soul worthy only of sympathy.
"I know this is difficult to accept, Mr. Holmes," Anthony said softly. "But according to every record we possess, after beginning your new life in Old Dunling, you became a detective."
He had won.
Lloyd was a madman who would stop at nothing to achieve his purpose. Even if both hands were severed, he would still tear out an enemy's throat with his teeth. Yet Anthony had done what no blade ever could.
He had destroyed the very foundation of Lloyd's existence.
"As a detective, you understand better than anyone the value of evidence," Anthony continued. "And every piece of evidence points to the same conclusion. Subject 042 never existed. Your true identity is 047—the demon hunter known as Medanzo."
Lloyd lowered his head.
His eyes rested upon photograph after photograph of himself.
Long ago he had noticed the resemblance between his own face and Medanzo's. But now that resemblance had crossed an invisible threshold. The two faces merged into one, wearing the same twisted smile of madness.
Merlin finally spoke, his voice stripped of emotion.
"There was once a similar case at Black Mountain Hospital."
No one interrupted.
"A knight suffered severe corruption. It became so profound that his memories fractured. He forgot who he was entirely and spent years in a sanatorium. Aside from his amnesia, he lived like any ordinary man. Over time he made new friends... built a new life... found a new place to belong."
His empty eyes reflected the broken man sitting across the table.
Like a stray dog whose spine had been shattered.
"Then one day..."
"The man he used to be woke up."
"He remembered everything."
A quiet sorrow settled over the room.
It was as though the man in Merlin's story sat among them now.
As though another self had clawed its way awake, tearing open its own chest until a second, blood-soaked head emerged from within.
"He became someone completely different. The past and the present blurred together until he no longer knew which one was truly himself. The woman he had loved before losing his memory had already married another. The woman he loved afterward had become both familiar and unfamiliar. His entire life collapsed..."
"And the one responsible..."
"...was himself."
Anthony drew a slow breath.
"Mr. Holmes, you were contaminated by the False Holy Grail. Even a demon hunter as powerful as you could never perceive its corruption. Year after year, it eroded you little by little, until it consumed everything."
Silence answered him.
Everyone watched the man with his head bowed.
He had once been an untamable flame that neither storm nor hurricane could extinguish.
Now that fire melted like snow beneath the spring sun, shrinking into a tiny flicker too weak to illuminate even itself.
Then a voice whispered.
"So... the invincible Mr. Holmes has finally fallen."
It was faint.
Almost childish.
Yet inside the silent conference chamber it rang with unsettling clarity.
Again.
"The invincible Mr. Holmes has fallen~"
Again.
"The invincible Mr. Holmes has fallen~"
Slowly...
Lloyd raised his head.
His exhausted eyes swept across every face at the table.
It was the face of someone impossible not to pity—a soaked puppy abandoned in the rain, so pitiful that anyone would want to scoop it into their arms.
Then—
A smile appeared.
It widened.
Twisted.
The shattered steel that had broken apart moments earlier was reforged before their eyes, harder than before.
The dying ember suddenly exploded into an inferno.
All those useless emotions were discarded.
Just as everyone believed the invincible Mr. Holmes had finally broken...
He stood again.
A strange smile curled across his lips as he regarded everyone in the room with naked mockery.
"Who am I?"
"Where did I come from?"
"Where am I going?"
His voice was gentle.
The madness beneath it was not.
Anthony instinctively stiffened.
Everything until now had unfolded exactly as he had planned.
Everything...
Until this moment.
Arthur, however, burst into laughter.
He applauded enthusiastically as he laughed.
The invincible Mr. Holmes had climbed back onto his feet.
He was a monster born to slaughter demons.
Until every last one was gone...
Nothing would defeat him.
Anthony had overlooked one crucial truth.
By his own description, Lloyd had spent years living inside madness.
After so long, this absurd, grotesque world had become normal to him.
Lloyd Holmes was, from the beginning, an extremist.
A madman willing to sacrifice anything to eradicate demons.
And people who believed themselves sane...
Could never predict how a madman would think.
"I came from Florence."
"I am going to exterminate demons."
"As for who I am..."
He shrugged.
"Does it matter?"
Gone was the stubborn insistence on his identity.
He stared directly at Anthony, as though at any second he might pull a Winchester from nowhere and empty its chamber into the priest.
"No... that's not quite right."
"Where I came from doesn't matter either. That's already in the past."
"Out of those three damned questions..."
"Only one has any value."
"Where am I going?"
He leaned comfortably into his chair, casually combing back his pale blond hair with one hand.
"I can come from Florence."
"I can come from Old Dunling."
"I could even have come from distant Jiuxia."
"I can be 047."
"Or 042."
"You can even call me Arthur if you'd like."
"A name is only what people choose to call something."
He smiled.
"The only thing that matters..."
"...is what I intend to do."
His gaze settled calmly upon Anthony.
"I am..."
"...a weapon."
"For now, that weapon happens to be called Lloyd Holmes."
"And my purpose..."
"...is to eradicate every demon."
He folded his hands upon one knee.
"What about you..."
"...Father Anthony?"
"You've said so much."
"So tell me."
"What is it..."
"...that you truly want?"
Anthony stared blankly.
Several long seconds passed before he finally laughed in resignation.
"As expected of you."
A demon hunter who had carried the False Holy Grail for years and continued fighting without surrendering to madness...
Such a man would never fall so easily.
Even if he did—
He would drag every demon into Hell beside him.
Anthony's smile faded.
When he looked upon Lloyd again, only respect remained.
Unlike the younger generation of hunters, Anthony had glimpsed a fragment of that forbidden madness with his own eyes.
He knew exactly what horrors this man had survived.
Not merely faced.
Survived.
"We wish to recover the False Holy Grail you carry."
Anthony spoke plainly.
"It was born during the Night of the Holy Descent. Everything fell into chaos then. We know only one thing..."
"It is dangerous."
"Beyond that..."
"We know nothing."
"You want to recover it..."
"...and study its power."
Lloyd saw through them instantly.
He laughed.
"What belongs to the Gospel Church..."
"...remains the Church's property."
"I'm no longer the Church's."
Lloyd answered without hesitation.
"I belong to the Purge Bureau now."
Then his eyes swept across everyone present.
"I know exactly why all of you came today."
"You as well."
His gaze lingered upon the silent officers of the Purge Bureau.
Rising to his feet, he began circling the round table.
His movements were strangely graceful.
At times he spun.
At times he kicked lightly into empty air.
It almost resembled a dance.
Perfectly calm.
Balanced upon the razor's edge before total insanity.
"The Gospel Church."
"The Purge Bureau."
"What a disappointment."
"In the end..."
"Both of you hide behind the banner of fighting demons while coveting forbidden power."
"Power humanity was never meant to touch."
Stopping beside Arthur, Lloyd rested both hands upon the man's shoulders.
"Don't rush to deny it."
"When humanity was weaker than demons, we devoted ourselves entirely to destroying them."
"But the moment we became equals..."
"...or even stronger..."
"The ugliness of mankind revealed itself."
"Now..."
"You crave that forbidden power as well."
"And why wouldn't you?"
"What better tool could exist..."
"...for satisfying human greed?"
For the first time, loneliness flickered through his gray-blue eyes.
"I miss the Crusades."
"Back then..."
"There were no ulterior motives."
"Everyone fought for only one reason."
"To destroy demons."
"It was..."
"...pure."
His eyes returned to Anthony.
"Father."
"Give up."
"Neither the Church nor the Purge Bureau has any right to touch the False Holy Grail."
"Like the Holy Grail itself..."
"It is a Messiah-Class Containment Artifact."
"It possesses a memetic effect."
"If I were to speak its true name aloud in this room..."
"You might all become infected before your next heartbeat."
The threat hung over the room like a drawn blade.
His gaze swept slowly across every face.
"You wouldn't want that."
He was threatening all of them.
One forbidden name...
And perhaps Old Dunling would witness another Night of the Holy Descent.
Or perhaps not.
No one truly understood the False Holy Grail.
Those who once might have...
Had all perished that night.
"No."
Arthur finally broke the silence.
"You won't do it."
He looked Lloyd directly in the eyes.
"You're insane."
"But you're an insane man with principles."
"You exist to eradicate demons."
"So you'll become the prison."
"You'll imprison that devil forever."
"Dragging everyone here into death..."
"That would betray your purpose."
A flicker of surprise crossed Lloyd's face.
He had never expected the man who so often pointed a gun at him...
To understand him so well.
He smiled faintly.
"Never test the limits of a madman."
"Maybe..."
"I'll suddenly decide it sounds entertaining."
His expression remained relaxed.
No one could tell whether he was joking...
Or whether he had seriously considered it.
He stopped beside the conference room door and looked back one final time.
"So my answer is..."
"I refuse."
"Father Anthony."
"I refuse every attempt to investigate the False Holy Grail."
"Humanity should never touch such blasphemous things."
"Especially not out of the greed of those who sit above you."
Anger echoed through every word.
"You have no idea what the price truly is."
"I've seen it."
"I watched demon hunters die."
"I watched them devoured."
"Severed limbs."
"Scattered organs."
"The world you enjoy today..."
"...was purchased with rivers of blood."
"On this..."
"I will never compromise."
He spread his arms openly.
"So..."
"Are we fighting now?"
"If we are..."
"Would someone mind lending me two swords?"
"There seem to be rather a lot of you."
Even while joking, Lloyd heard everything beyond the door.
Heavy breathing.
Fingers brushing cold steel.
Steam engines quietly rumbling within hidden chambers.
And somewhere overhead...
The mournful cry of a whale.
The invincible Mr. Holmes would never kneel.
But perhaps...
He would die here.
Not beneath the claws of demons.
But beneath the ugliness of mankind.
Just as he accepted that possibility—
Arthur spoke again.
"Then you may leave, Lloyd."
Anthony's eyes snapped toward him.
"What?"
"I agree with your decision."
Arthur's voice remained calm.
"Someone has to guard humanity's final line."
"Just as the Scavenger watches over the Purge Bureau..."
"...you should watch over the False Holy Grail."
"As for the danger everyone keeps mentioning..."
He turned toward Anthony.
The priest had never imagined his carefully prepared strategy would end like this.
His plan had been simple.
Expose Lloyd's true identity.
Drive him into madness.
Use the threat posed by the False Holy Grail to justify reclaiming it for the Gospel Church.
Even if they had to share the prize with the Purge Bureau.
Instead...
Everything had slipped away.
"By your own account," Arthur continued, "Lloyd has carried the False Holy Grail for many years."
"During all that time..."
"He remained stable."
"He remained safe."
"And frankly..."
"We still can't even prove the False Holy Grail is actually on him."
No one knew what the False Holy Grail truly looked like.
No one understood its nature.
Its appearance.
Its properties.
Everything remained unknown.
"The Gospel Church will never abandon the False Holy Grail."
Anthony's tone hardened.
"But Lloyd belongs to the Purge Bureau now."
Arthur answered just as firmly.
"And this..."
"...is Old Dunling."
"...England."
With those words, Arthur bound Lloyd firmly to the Purge Bureau's cause.
The sealed doors slowly opened.
Lloyd cast one last glance at Anthony.
Then he walked away without looking back.
The corridor stretched before him.
On one side stood ranks of Purge Bureau knights.
On the other waited demon hunters of the Hunting Order.
Every face reflected surprise.
They had expected the doors to burst open, an order to ring out, and for them to storm inside and cut Lloyd to pieces.
Instead...
He walked out alive.
His gaze drifted across every hunter's face, committing each one to memory.
Anthony would not give up.
Sooner or later, in some dark alleyway...
They would meet again.
His figure disappeared into the distant end of the corridor.
Only after reaching the deserted streets beyond did the savage grin finally vanish from his face.
Now he looked like nothing more than a drunk wandering home after too much wine.
He could barely remember how he had escaped that fortress.
His legs finally gave way.
Staggering, he caught himself against a wall before slowly sliding to the ground.
Like a wounded beast...
A monster bristling with arrows.
Deception had always been Lloyd's greatest talent.
This time was no different.
He had fooled Anthony.
He had fooled Arthur.
But for the first time...
He could not fool himself.
Beyond the dark alley, the city bustled with life.
Within its shadows, however, the iron will that had held him together finally shattered.
His gray-blue eyes turned vacant.
Clutching his head, he curled over as muddy rainwater reflected a face twisted by unbearable agony.
Only now...
The invincible Mr. Holmes truly fell.
042 had never existed.
Neither had Lloyd Holmes.
Everything...
Every conviction.
Every oath.
Every sacrifice.
Had been born from nothing more than his own madness.
He curled into himself in the corner of the alley.
Like a stray dog...
Forgotten by the world.