Butcher Demon

Everyone kept their mouths silent and their minds racing at full speed.

The air became motionless as if a clock had stopped- then.

“It’s a lie.”

A beautiful voice echoed in the silent space.

Everyone’s eyes darted about, searching for the source.

“Yakumo?”

Natsuki’s voice drew all the gazes.

With a straight face, Yakumo looked at me and said.

“It’s a lie.”

He repeated.

The boy’s soprano voice was clear, reminiscent of an angel’s.

“…..So it’s a lie after all?”

“No, I’m not lying!”

Yasmin yelled.

But…

Our prophet-kun is genuine. Proof of his power comes from the rumors from anonymous forums where there is little room for bias. I saw the whole process of the birth of a legend on the Internet.

“No, no! Wait, Gevaudan!”

Abigail started to panic as well.

“Are you sure?”

I confirmed again, and Yakumo nodded.

“You really take that kind of childish nonsense seriously–“

Yasmin was still trying to ramble something out.

However, she was met with a resounding reply.

“Oh, When Yakumo mentioned it…..I heard that soul transfusion is a one-time thing, right?”

“—-“

Yasmin’s eyes widen.

“And what will happen if I do it a second time is…..what was it……Oh right. my soul will get destroyed.”

“That’s only if use the old ritual as it is, and now we have the case of the Jiangshi, so the soul strings should be able to be infused a second time–“

“Should? See, I knew it was just an idea.”

“but what about–!”

“It wasn’t childish nonsense, was it?”

“Hii”

I resumed my dinner.

“Stop!!! oooo……”

She continued to writhe in despair as she saw her own body as it became smaller and smaller with only her eyeballs.

“I was originally working for Narusincluding the study of techniques in soul transfusion! I made a lot of Nocturnes! In Miforsis, I’m the most knowledgeable on race conversion! Narus even duped me into using my abilities to create and control butcher! So, if I had the time, I can improve the ritual…”

“So you’re the indirect cause of me becoming a Butcher after all!!”

“No–“

Yasmin tastes bad.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.”

The taste and smell were like sludge.

Resisting nausea, I chewed repeatedly and sent it down into my throat.

“Aaaaaaaaaaa!! big brother …… I’m sorry………I am……sorr…………–“

The sobbing, screams, and prayers slowly dropped in volume.

Finally, I licked the black gobs left on the floor, like someone does with the lid of an ice cream cone, and eventually, the sobbing that had been coming from the butcher’s stomach stopped.