"If you can protect me for a year, I'll let you have me"
Set in 19th century London, Tiket is a socialite and sergeant who fears for his life due to the secret of his birth. One day, he is approached by a charming young man named Juntane...who happe...
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_______________________________ Juntan was only eight years old when he first killed someone.
He had been wandering through a back alley in London, gazing towards the dimly lit sky when a man called out to him.
"―You're hungry, right? If you help me kill someone, I'll pay you in food."
The target was described only as a large man with a beard. Juntan wasn't even told the man's name nor his origins. But he was starving, so he willingly agreed to assassinate what was a total stranger.
Clutching the fine powder he had received from the client in his hand, Juntan approached his target as he was sipping wine. The client had explained to Juntan that, since he was only a child, the target wouldn't be suspicious of his presence. But as he closed in on the large man, he appeared to be extremely cautious, even towards children. When Juntan made his move to place the powder into the drink, the man reacted immediately, leaping to his feet with all his might. Caught in the act, Juntan ran outside, but the large man was quick to give chase. In his haste, Juntan tripped over a trash can, and his eyes instantly caught sight of a fruit knife amongst the scattered rubbage. He grabbed the knife, turned towards the man, and plunged the weapon straight into his heart. Juntan apathetically watched as a copious amount of blood poured from the body of the now motionless large man, his expression devoid of horror or disgust.
(People really do die easily, huh?)
After washing off the blood that had splattered onto him, he contentedly ate his reward of bread, earning him a faint chuckle from the client.
"―Beasts live by devouring their prey. You should do the same."
(I see. I'm a beast, huh?)
That's why even killing someone doesn't make me feel anything; because I'm a beast. Ever since that day, Juntan had accepted the label of 'beast' without question, and from then on repeatedly accepted jobs in which he would murder in exchange for food or money. At first, he could count the number of his victims on his fingers. But it didn't take long for the murders to become second nature to him. As killing became almost involuntary, Juntan eventually stopped bothering to count. It was during that time, when Juntan was fifteen, that he hit a turning point. A request had come in from a man who, even amongst Juntan's wide variety of murderous clientele, seemed highly peculiar. He was cloaked in a jet-black robe that concealed his entire form. The dark hood was pulled over his head, making it harder to see the iris flowered mask that adorned his face.
