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– The debt of the soul is deeper than the seas and higher than the mountains. My enemies are you. Happiness is ephemeral, when a foe’s heart hits shivering of life and bubbling Evil deters willful strike of all- conquering character. Have I frightened you, whoresons?! I’m pouring out my blood; – he laughed madly, – do not rejoice! I will die with you, here and now! Fear, rescued from my soul, will descend in you! – and, playing with the swishing blade, Arthur was rapidly approaching the werewolves, ripping and crushing the Goth who had broken into a run. His sword was seen as a revolving circle, being a perfect mastery of renzoku-waza that is a complex combination of thrusts. His gaze became cold-blooded determination and extraordinary calm; the second werewolf fell, having experienced the power of iaijutsu; the third, being behind Arthur, clasped him in his arms and plunged the claws into the flesh, whispering in his ear:
– You will die a long and painful death. Your words are mere. Fear is inside you, for you are hopeless; the wounds are incurable. You are bleeding profusely. And your blood is blackening. Do you imagine yourself the hero? Nonsense! – the claws sunk deeper into his flesh close to the liver. – Who are you now? Or what will you be? You are nothing. And do you know why? Because you're a human being. And like Neko-Mata I’m going to amuse myself with your lifeless body. Are you terrified with the impending decease?
– The teacher had been telling me from the first day of consecration to remember about the death. When I go to sleep or wake up, when I eat or starving, when I’m awake or reflect when I watch the farewell rays or the rising sun, I always remember about death. So behold the feeble person, me Arthur Jorja King!!! The man who doesn’t care about death, who doesn’t care about you, freaks! That’s because God is with me, and you are beneath me! – he burst into insane laughter, stamped his boot – the blade slipped off the soles – a kick in the groin followed; the werewolf recoiled, and Arthur turned around with lightning speed, picked up the fallen sword and cut off werewolf’s head with the blade. – Who wants the tail, who wants the crock, huh? Neko-Mata, dammit!
Sighing heavily, he wiped the blood flowing from his nose, and, clenching his bloodied teeth, with a shout rushed toward the Goth appeared in his way. He hack the body from the shoulder to the belt. The youth fell to
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his knees, breathless with the blood gushing from his mouth. Black bangs fell on his pale forehead, eyes with red lenses look upward. With pain Arthur looked at the ruined soul, at the sacrifice made not by his hands. The barrel of a gun set into his head and he heard a female voice:
– You’ve ruined everything! I'll kill you! You’ve killed them, you’ve shredded them like babies! Damn! Who the hell are you?
– You wish to hear the answer… And who are you and who are they? You’re going to kill me? Do! I’ve seen enough of horror and death! These O-Yama and Beherits are different in the languages but the same in nature. They are those slanderers and opponents, the Devils and Sets that have poured into new regime and flooded the minds of people as parasites, stuck in you, in me. I’m fed up with them for they have filled the whole world! The world is being convinced and has been convinced by them that there is no, no, no, fuck, either Evil, or Good! Because we're Evil and we're Good. Yes! We humans, puny humans are the both. Then, then, then we are Gods, only we are and nobody else! – he turned around and the muzzle of the gun set against Arthur's forehead. – So, bitch, you want to know the answer, don’t you? – he shouted, – Must you know the answer or not?!
