venerdì 10 luglio 2020

Chapter 137 : The evil eye


« I don't believe in God, but I believe in this shit. » Murakawa Tetsuya asserted while he was smoking a cigarette sitting on an armchair that didn't belong to him in an apartment where he didn't live; at his feet was the corpse of a man. Lancer appeared, disgusted to have seen her Master commit yet another murder; the woman asked skeptically:
« Was this man also a member of that organization that wants you dead? »
« If he wasn't, I wouldn't have killed him, don't you think? » He said, smiling.
« What's so funny? »
« I see that you don't know what it means to have the evil eye, I've always been a unique, special case in T6: I've always had better contracts because of my original ability to kill and my colleagues have always been envious of my popularity among the clients ... and now here I am, victim of their evil eye, of their envy. I no longer have a job, I no longer have allies to rely on and no place in the world is safe for me. »
« That's the evil eye? »
« Of course. »
« You've a strange way of looking at it, Master, it almost seems that you've been cursed by a witch. »
« What do you think this is? If it's not a curse, it's a fucking joke of some psychopathic God. I had everything and now I have nothing. »
« Crocodile tears. » Lancer commented, disgusted. « You're playing the part of the victim, I find it pathetic considering what you've just done. »
« Do you think I want to be a victim? No, actually I like this situation because it's proof that I've always been right. » Tetsuya said with a satisfied expression.
« What are you talking about? »
« How do you think I committed my murders? » He asked, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray.
« I don't really care. »
« Wrong answer. » Tetsuya got up from his armchair and went to the table where there were glasses and a bottle of virgin whiskey. Tetsuya took off the cap and poured four fingers of whiskey then began to tell: « I've never liked firearms or cutting weapons, I've always felt a particular pleasure in doing my job with my own hands. »
« Like an animal. »
« More like a vehicle.
» He corrected Lancer and then drank the whiskey all at once: « I was a vehicle for their aggression. When one wants another person to die, they don't want that person to be killed in an instant, they want to vent their aggression on the victims. A quick death is like a masturbation but what I offered was the equivalent of a coitus. All human beings want to let off steam over their fellow men: they want to kill them only after destroying them. I was a "destruction agent", I destroyed the victims little by little and then I killed them and my customers appreciated it. »
« Youìre even worse than an animal, Murakawa Tetsuya, I can't believe I'm forced to fight by your side. For me it's dishonorable. » Lancer's judgment was sudden and full of repulsion.
« Then you can go fuck yourself, Lancer ... unless you also have aggression to vent on someone, for example on the Servants fighting in this war, I could help you ... »
Lancer pointed her spear at Tetsuya's throat and exclaimed angrily:
« Don't you dare compare me to you, I'm a warrior with values! »
« I don't doubt it, Cleta, but I've inquired about you and I know that your Noble Phantasm draws strength from your anger. Your enemies destroyed your homeland, didn't they? What is your wish, Cleta? Do you have at least one wish or are you here just to vent your anger on your opponents? »
« Be quiet! »
« Or? »
« I told you to keep quiet! » She screamed.
« You're no different from humans. Heroes are just ideals, humans are actually violent, very violent ... because they love to be. Heroes like King Arthur were nothing more than fairy tales told to justify violence in the human heart. Aggressiveness, this is the true nature of mankind, everything else is just a lie. You heroes believe you're superior but you're only ideal, you're fairy tales ... little more than masks. No matter how wonderful your legends are ... they will only be excuses to continue killing. Point that weapon at me and prove that I'm right. Here's what you are. »
Tetsuya filled the glass with two more fingers of whiskey, drank it and then placed the glass on the tip of the spear which was aimed at his throat; he turned commenting with irony:
«You need an anti-stress ball. »
Lancer, moving the rod, threw the glass and then destroyed it in midair; she didn't say anything to her Master, she was still angry with him but in her heart she knew that Tetsuya was right about her.

Murakawa Tetsuya by Bikowolf

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