Bungo Stray Dogs Vol. 6: Beast Read online

  Copyright

  Bungo Stray Dogs, Volume 6

  KAFKA ASAGIRI

  Translation by Matt Rutsohn

  Cover art by Sango Harukawa

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental

  BUNGO STRAY DOGS Vol. 6 BEAST

  ©Kafka Asagiri 2019

  ©Sango Harukawa 2019

  First published in Japan in 2019 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.

  English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through TUTTLE-MORI AGENCY, INC., Tokyo.

  English translation © 2021 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Asagiri, Kafka, author. | Iwahata, Hiro, author. | Rutsohn, Matt, translator.

  Title: Beast / Kafka Asagiri ; illustration by Sango Harukawa ; translation by Matt Rutsohn

  Other titles: Dazai Osamu no nyåusha shaken. English

  Description: First Yen On edition | New York, NY : Yen On, 2019. | Series: Bungo stray dogs ; Volume 6

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019005328 | ISBN 9781975303228 (v 1 : pbk) | ISBN 9781975303242 (v 2 : pbk) | ISBN 9781975303266 (v 3 : pbk) | ISBN 9781975303280 (v 4 : pbk) | ISBN 9781975316570 (v 5 : pbk) | ISBN 9781975316594 (v 6 : pbk)

  Classification: LCC PL8675.S234 D3913 2019 | DDC 895.63/6—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019005328

  ISBNs: 978-1-9753-1659-4 (paperback)

  978-1-9753-1660-0 (ebook)

  E3-20210423-JV-NF-ORI

  Contents

  Cover

  Insert

  Title Page

  Copyright

  #0

  #1

  #2

  #3

  #4

  Afterword

  Sango Harukawa’s Beast Rough Sketch Gallery

  Yen Newsletter

  #0

  The young boy raced through the night. He felt as if he would cough up his lungs any minute as the sweat dripped down his cheeks. Hunger and exhaustion blurred his vision. Most would have passed out by now but not this young boy. He kept moving, forcing each foot forward as quickly as he could even if it cost him a limb, for this boy known as Ryuunosuke Akutagawa was out of time. He figured that he would be dead once he finished running down this path.

  Akutagawa was a child of the slums, and one of the many who never knew his parents. He lived on the streets with eight other kids who shared his fate. Each one of his peers said the same thing about him: The boy lacked emotions. Even when Akutagawa awoke on the cold pavement every morning, even on the rare occasion he got treated to a meal, even when an adult beat him senseless—he showed little emotion. He would simply stare off into space with his dark, empty eyes. Most adults wrote him off as a heartless brat.

  But this unfeeling boy possessed mysterious powers.

  He was able to manipulate his clothing. Once, he used it like a rope; another time, like a blade. Before long, he could make it take any shape he desired.

  The ability to manipulate the clothing he wore—that was Akutagawa’s gift. Nevertheless, this was Yokohama, the city of demons. Buying illegal firearms and grenades was like buying an apple at the store. It was easy. Turning his sleeves into blades and flinging them around was no more shocking than a magic trick. At least, that was what the adults who knew of Akutagawa’s ability told him as they mocked him.

  Akutagawa’s peers were different, though. The eight boys and girls who lived on the streets with him knew how dangerous he was. This filthy, frail boy dressed in rags could approach someone, his eyes void of any emotion, and slit their throat without warning. Armed, overconfident adults were the quickest to die like this. Many thieves who tried stealing money from the children met their end at Akutagawa’s hand.

  Akutagawa murdered all those who threatened his turf without showing any emotion or even saying a word, earning him the moniker of the Silent Mad Dog. There was no threatening roar or warning growl. By the time his target realized what was happening, it was already too late; Akutagawa had them by the throat. He was far more vicious than any noisy mad dog. He was shunned, feared—and that was how he became known by his nickname.

  Nevertheless, he was still a young boy, one who never got enough to eat and spent his nights in the slums where the cold wind chilled him to the bone. Akutagawa was inherently frail in addition to being short and emaciated. Naturally, the other eight children in his group were hardly any different. That was why they always worked together and looked out for one another.

  But there was no need for that any longer. All his friends had been killed. He knew who murdered them, too. The killers were part of a small armed organization that had made its way from the west to the slums of Yokohama. In truth, armed organization was just a nice-sounding term for those who attacked and stole from unarmed transport ships that frequented the port and slums. In other words, they were pirates. Though they were newcomers in the area, the group formed an alliance with the criminal organization the Port Mafia and thereby received permission to operate within the region. Not a soul would dare fight back against a subsidiary branch of the Mafia—the very embodiment of Yokohama’s dark underbelly.

  One of Akutagawa’s friends had accidentally overheard the date and time the pirates were going to carry out an illegal trade deal, so, fearing being reported to the police, the outlaws attacked the children on their turf and slaughtered every one of them. Only with the help of his younger sister was Akutagawa narrowly able to escape, although not unscathed. Despite his grave injuries that would normally take a month’s rest to heal, Akutagawa now dashed through the black of night with the utmost swiftness.

  The children had a rule: If one of them got hurt, the others would avenge them. It was the only way they could protect themselves from those who tried to walk all over them. However, that wasn’t the only reason why Akutagawa was running so quickly.

  He had finally gained what he lacked.

  His insides burned and his hair stood on end from an emotion so powerful that it seemed ready to burst from his throat.

  That emotion was hatred, the first Akutagawa had ever clearly felt. Despite his knowledge that he was heading toward the gates of hell, this feeling only continued to grow and consume him. He would not hesitate. He was simply going to slit his enemies’ throats with a single blade as his hatred dictated him to do.

  I have finally gained hatred. Now, I am no longer a mangy, filthy cur. I am a human with emotion; ergo, all that rema
ins is how I shall exact my revenge.

  Akutagawa had an idea where the enemy would appear: on the road to where the trade deal was going to take place. He raced through the rugged forest, his only company the silver-gray fog and the steam whistle that blared in the distance.

  He wasn’t afraid of death, for he believed that hell would be far more pleasant than this place. Nor did he fear the pain of dying, as day after endless day was nothing but torture.

  Days without food where he was fighting over weeds just to survive.

  Days where he would wake up on a snowy morning to find the friend by his side never to awaken from their eternal slumber.

  If this was what life was meant to be—if this was the fated price to pay for the right to breathe and exist, then he would have his revenge. He wanted to take out as many enemies as he could before thrusting his juvenile corpse through the gates of hell. That was the best way Akutagawa could get revenge—revenge against the curse of ever being born.

  And then he arrived. On the other side of the fog were a few flickering red lights—the lit ends of the cigarettes a group of outlaws were smoking. It was them. There were six men, each armed with a pistol at his hip. They seemed rather laid-back; perhaps they still had some time to kill before their trade deal took place. Akutagawa hid within the thickets and watched the outlaws. They were clearly experienced criminals used to killing. And there were six of them compared to one little boy. No child stood a chance against this many.

  So what? thought Akutagawa. He was carrying the weight of eight dead friends, so there was no reason for him to give in based simply on numbers.

  Akutagawa undid his shirt and looked down at the bandaged wound on his side. It was the injury he got when he was grazed by a bullet while escaping the attack earlier that day. He tore off the bandages before thrusting his fingers into the wound as hard as he could, forcing fresh blood to spill out.

  “Ngh…”

  Akutagawa grunted in agony while smearing the blood over his face to make it look like his injury was more severe. He then began approaching the outlaws.

  “H-help…,” came Akutagawa’s trembling voice from the forest road. “I was attacked by two men with guns…”

  The six outlaws turned around as the young boy approached them, clutching his chest while dragging his leg along the ground. He was breathing heavily as the moonlight illuminated his blood-painted face.

  “Huh? A kid?”

  “What’re you doin’ out all alone at a time like this?”

  “Just down the road…there was a carjacking…by two masked men… It was a truck transporting government notes…,” stammered Akutagawa in a voice as feeble as that of a tiny, frightened animal. “I accidentally saw one of their faces after they killed the guards and stole the money…so they started chasing after me to make sure I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone…”

  “Uh-huh, so…you witnessed a theft, huh? This sure is a dangerous town we live in,” joked one of the outlaws while he calmly raised his gun. “Sorry, kid. But if I were that thief, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowin’ you were still alive. Lemme put you outta your misery. Consider it an act of mercy.”

  “Hold on. Don’t be so hasty.” Another outlaw stopped him. “This here’s a golden opportunity, no?”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Transporters carrying government notes have hundreds of millions in cash at a time to adjust the domestic circulation of bills. We could retire on money like that.”

  “Wait… So you’re sayin’ you wanna protect this kid?”

  “Nah, I’m saying we should do it for the money. Think about it. What happens after stealing money from the government is the hard part. The military police, the city police, the Ministry of Finance’s prosecutors, investigators with the bank—everyone whose reputation is on the line will come running like ants. But they wouldn’t be coming for us this time. They’d be going after the guys who attacked the transporter. They’d never even consider coming after us. We had nothing to do with it, after all. It’s easy money. They’d be looking for two men, not six. Low risk, high reward.”

  The six outlaws exchanged glances.

  “I guess, but…”

  “We’ve still got plenty of time before the deal goes down.”

  “…Wanna do it?”

  “This whole thing’s kinda sudden. We’re not prepared.”

  “Didja not hear the part about ‘hundreds of millions’? No way we can pass up that much dough. What, you scared?”

  “Pfft. Like hell I am. I’m fine getting an extra payday, but what’s gonna happen when we meet up with the Port Mafia later tonight?”

  “They’d keep their mouths shut once we give ’em their ten percent. C’mon, all we gotta do is keep our story straight if things go south. We were just trying to help an injured boy who was being attacked. It’s half-true, right? And if the kid happens to get hit with a stray bullet, well…”

  The outlaw smirked, then pointed the muzzle of his gun in Akutagawa’s direction. The other five men grinned as if they knew he was hinting he was going to kill the young boy after they got their money.

  “Hey, kid. What’d these two guys look like? You know what kinda weapons they had?”

  Akutagawa shook his head. “I don’t know much about weapons…but I did pick up one of the bullets.”

  “That’ll work. We’ll know what kind of gun they were using. Lemme see.”

  “Okay…”

  Akutagawa approached the man and held out his palm. The outlaw crouched down and leaned closer to get a better look at the bullet under the moonlight.

  There was a slicing sound. A slit appeared horizontally on the man’s neck, followed by fresh blood spewing everywhere. He gave a quizzical stare, but his life came to an abrupt end before he even realized that Akutagawa had turned his sleeve into a blade and slit his throat.

  “What…?!”

  Before the other five outlaws could even process what was going on, Akutagawa spun around, then immediately thrust his blade into the nearest one’s gut, sliding it right through the opening of his bulletproof vest. The skill-infused blade extended within his stomach while stirring his entrails. Right after Akutagawa pulled out the blade, blood and shredded guts immediately spewed out of the wound like a fountain. The outlaw collapsed.

  “You…!”

  The first outlaw to realize what was going on aimed his gun at Akutagawa. He was about two steps away from the boy, making him out of the skill’s reach, so Akutagawa leaned forward and threw himself at the outlaw. Right as he hit the ground, he swung his arms at the man’s ankles as if he were mowing grass with a scythe. The outlaw howled as his legs were severed from the ankle down before collapsing. Blood sprayed out of his wounds and onto Akutagawa’s face.

  Three left.

  “This little shit’s a skill user! Shoot! Kill him!”

  The three outlaws simultaneously fired. Akutagawa rolled on the ground until he could hide behind the nearest body and use it as a shield. The corpse bounced as it took the gunfire.

  He had defeated three men, but this was where the real fight would begin. He wouldn’t be able to take them by surprise anymore. There was no way for Akutagawa to kill three men armed with long-range weapons, since he needed to be up close to attack. But he felt neither fear nor hesitation. The Heartless Dog’s gaze never wavered. If he felt anything right now, it was a hint of elation. He had already defeated three of the outlaws.

  How many evildoers’ souls would he need to take with him to hell? Three? Four? …The more the merrier, of course.

  Akutagawa observed the clothes of the dead body he was hiding behind. Stuffed inside the corpse’s pockets were two grenades. Akutagawa used his own clothing to grab the grenades and pull the pins, then waited for a brief moment before simultaneously launching them at the enemy. One of the men absorbed the entire blast, scattering pieces of his flesh into the air and even above the treetops. Taken aback by the raining flesh of their comrade, th
e two surviving outlaws promptly hid behind some trees.

  “Wh-what the hell is with this kid?!” one of the men shrieked in horror. “He’s outta his mind! Attacking us all by himself… Does he even value his own damned life?!”

  “A good question.” Akutagawa got to his feet. “Thanks to you all…I think I am about to find the answer.”

  He dashed forward with a swiftness that belied his serious injuries. It was a speed that could only be maintained by someone who didn’t care how many tendons they tore or bones they broke.

  The outlaws fired their guns at him as he drew closer. A bullet moving at the speed of sound passed through Akutagawa’s right shoulder, creating a trail of blood behind him. And yet, he did not slow down.

  Akutagawa leaped into the air and lunged forward, biting one outlaw’s neck. He then wrapped his clothes around the outlaw so he couldn’t escape. Akutagawa’s canines sank into the man’s flesh as he clamped his jaw down as hard as he could until he bit through the outlaw’s throat, carotid artery and all.

  “Gyaaaaaah!”

  Blood gushed out of the criminal’s neck and straight up into the air. Akutagawa kicked off his sternum and landed on the ground with the man’s flesh and blood still dangling from his mouth. Akutagawa stood back up.

  “How long has it been since I last tasted fresh meat?” he muttered as he spat out the fresh blood. His bloodstained lips curled into a fiendish smile.

  The Silent Mad Dog.

  A heartless, savage beast.

  This Akutagawa illuminated by the moonlight was what his friends both feared and relied on—the ultimate beast.

  After turning to face the remaining enemy, Akutagawa uttered:

  “Just one left.”

  “Eek…!”

  The last outlaw shrieked from the depths of his throat. He pointed the gun in his trembling hand at the beast and wildly fired. However, Akutagawa simply marched through the hail of bullets. His eyes had an eerie, animalistic glow while blood dripped from his teeth. Gunfire whizzed by his ears and pierced his clothes. But even then, his expression remained still. Bullets went through his shoulders, his earlobes, his ribs—shattering everything in their path. But even then, Akutagawa did not slow down.