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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

JIRO

Reina wanted me to kill Kenji, an actual living person. I wasn’t a killer. I wasn’t even remotely qualified for this kind of thing. How the hell was I supposed to navigate this? Surely she didn’t expect me to go through with it. I’d been tossing and turning in bed, unable to fully accept what she was asking of me.

Maybe I could stall her. Play dumb.

A soft click interrupted my thoughts. My door creaked open, and Iron Face loomed in the doorway like a servant sent from hell.

“It’s time,” he said, his voice low and cold.

“Time for what?” My voice was pitched higher than usual.

“Follow me. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Crap! This was it. Iron Face was here to help me kill Kenji. I had to figure a way out of this. Fast.

But instead of walking down the hall to Kenji’s room, Iron Face led me out of the dorms. Confused, I kept following. We weren’t heading to the training kitchen, either, so where? We approached a small windowless structure I’d seen a few times in passing. It was a little bigger than a toolshed, with a single steel door.

“What is this place?” I asked as I studied it.

Iron Face ignored me, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. He pushed it open, revealing a dark interior. “Go inside,” he ordered.

Hesitant at first, I eventually stepped through the doorway. The door slammed shut behind me, and fluorescent lights flickered on overhead. In front of me was a smaller, sealed room made of steel and glass. At first, it resembled an observation chamber. My stomach dropped as realization hit me.

“Is this…a gas chamber?” I looked back over my shoulder. Iron Face’s grin had stretched into something grotesque.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, panic rising inside me. “Reina wants to use a gas chamber? What the fuck is this? A horror movie?”

His silence was answer enough.

“Look, Kanshisha-san,” I stammered, “I’m not sure this is a good idea. There has to be a better way to?—”

Iron Face raised a knife he was holding. It clicked right then. The chamber wasn’t for Kenji. It was for me.

Before I could react, he lunged at me. I stumbled back into the chamber, causing him to miss. He continued to slash the blade, catching me on the forearm. I screamed in pain. Iron Face turned to exit the chamber, and without thinking, I attacked him, kicking him square in the back, sending him flying into the chamber wall. He fell to the ground, and I jumped on top of him, ignoring the searing pain in my arm.

We wrestled for control of the knife. He was stronger than I’d expected. Desperate, I slammed his hand against the steel frame of the chamber until he finally dropped the blade. But before I could grab it, he jammed his fingers into my open wound. I screamed.

We grappled, each of us blocking the other from reaching the knife. I managed to roll on top of him, raining punches on his face, but he flipped me over with ease, slamming me into the ground. He tried to crawl out of the chamber, but I grabbed his ankle, yanking him back inside.

Each strike from Iron Face sent a wave of pain through my body, but my adrenaline surged, fueling me to fight back. I clawed my way to the door, shoving him back with a kick to his face. Blood smeared the steel as I slammed the door shut and threw my weight against it.

Iron Face roared, hammering his fists into the door, trying to force it open. My hands fumbled for the lock, slipping on sweat and blood. He pummeled the door harder, and I felt my feet sliding, losing leverage.

Finally, the lock clicked into place. Without thinking, I slammed my fist on the red button next to the door.

A loud hissing noise filled the air, slicing through the silence. Inside the chamber, Iron Face froze, his body stiffening as his eyes widened in horror. A cloud of gray gas began to seep from the vents, creeping like a toxic mist.

“No!” he screamed, his fists pounding against the glass, the sound of a desperate man. “No, no, no!”

His wheezing turned into violent coughing, then choking. His body thrashed against the gas surrounding him before he collapsed to the floor, jerking violently, until, limb by limb, he fell still. The chamber was silent, save for the faint hiss of gas still seeping from the vents.

I backed away from the door, my breath ragged from our fight. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his lifeless form as I struggled to process what I’d just done.

I killed him. I killed Iron Face.

But I’d had no choice. It was either him or me. He had orders. Had I not pressed that button, Iron Face would have gassed me without giving it a second thought.

It was clear that Reina never trusted me. Sending Iron Face to kill me was all the proof I needed. And now, with him dead, there was no telling how far she’d go to ensure her control.