もののけ | monster | soshiro hoshina (Kaiju No. 8) (COMPLETE)

よんじゅうに | forty two

もののけ | kaiju | monster

42

[A lengthy chapter ahead]

Soshiro

MY EYES NEVER LEFT THE PIECE OF FLESH I had just extracted from Kiyomi's wound. The unnatural texture and color of it, a sickening shade of brownish-beige, confirmed my worst fears. This wasn't just any injury; this was the mark of a Kaiju. My mind raced back to similar wounds I had seen before—on Kenji, Kikoru, and recently, Ichikawa. Each of them had been struck by Kaiju No. 9.

I tightened my grip on Kiyomi's hand, the realization hit me like a punch to the gut. She met Kaiju No. 9. She better not dare to lie about this.

"Yeah, you're right. No. 9 did it," she suddenly spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. I looked up to her, surprised to see her eyes still closed. I had thought she'd drifted off to sleep. Did she just read my mind?

Her top was now my white polo shirt, the only spare clothing I had after the impromptu surgery. I wasn't confident in my stitching, even though it was just a three-inch wound. The pressure of stitching her up in such a dire situation had been immense, and I could only hope adrenaline had carried me through. Regardless, she still needed to see a real doctor to get it properly checked.

"So, it seems I am right," I said, my tone heavy with seriousness as her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. "Kiyomi, I am well aware of your current weakened state, but I demand answers. I want to know everything that happened, down to the last detail." I paused, allowing the weight of my words to settle between us. "If you dare lie to me, I will have no choice but to inform the General Director—your father, Kiyomi."

My voice bore no trace of gentleness; I was seething with fury, and she needed to grasp the severity of the situation.

"That frightens me," she remarked, her tone more amused than fearful, a soft laugh escaping her lips. I couldn't fathom her nonchalance. Is she truly more afraid of revealing the truth than of nearly losing her life?

"Don't worry, I have no intention of lying about this," she continued, her demeanor shifting to a more serious note. "Kaiju No. 9 attempted to consume me. It ambushed me in my own apartment."

Her words struck me like a blow to the chest. Consume her? How? What exactly is she saying?

She winced in pain, and I instinctively tightened my grip on her hand, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. If Kaiju No. 9 could nearly kill someone as formidable as Kiyomi, then we were facing a threat far more dangerous than I had imagined.

"You see, Kaiju No. 9 is unlike any other Kaiju we've encountered," she began, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and defiance. I understood that rage—the bitter disappointment of not annihilating a monster and letting it slip away. I felt the same way about Kaiju No. 8. "No. 9 operates like a virus. It poses a significant threat to us. It has intelligence; it can adapt to the human world," she explained, looking directly into my eyes. "It has a new host, not the guy from the Monster Sweeper. That's what caught me off guard. It tried to consume me. I barely escaped. If it had succeeded, I dread to think what might have happened to all of us. If that were to happen, not only could No. 9 infiltrate and compromise the main base, but it could also manipulate all of you into believing it was me. It could use my combat skills, adapting them swiftly. It would also have access to my memories—Kaiju No. 9—"