Chapter 39 (Patreon)

“. ”

A bizarre, eerie melody began to echo deep inside their minds, phantom-like and impossible to grasp. Its rhythm carried a sinister, irresistible force, as though it were seizing control of their very bodies.

Their limbs started moving against their will, like puppets yanked by invisible strings.

“What... what’s happening?!” someone screamed, their voice shaking uncontrollably with terror.

“Help! My body won’t listen to me! It’s moving on its own!”

Others cried out in desperation as well, but no matter how hard they struggled, it was useless.

Even when they clamped their hands over their ears and tried to shut out the horrifying tune, it made no difference.

The music had already been carved into their minds. It clung to them like a curse, impossible to escape.

“No! Don’t do this to me! It hurts!”

As the rhythm quickened, the movements forced upon them became more frantic, more twisted.

Little by little, their motions began to resemble the dance of the Serbian Dancing Lady. But how could an ordinary human body ever compare to something like that?

One after another, sickening cracks of breaking bones rang through the museum as people were forced to bend, twist, and jerk far beyond the limits of the human body.

Shrill screams and agonized wails filled the entire building, turning the museum into a living hell in an instant.

Blood splattered across the floor and walls, and the horrific sight made everyone who saw it shudder.

“What are we supposed to do?!”

Shoko Ieiri possessed cursed energy, so she was able to resist the Serbian Dancing Lady’s strange cursed technique.

But the ordinary civilians were not so lucky. Once the music caught them, death was all but guaranteed.

Shoko gathered a handful of survivors and pressed them close to the wall, carefully guiding them forward little by little.

Meanwhile, the people still dancing against their will were filled with despair, resentment, and blazing fury.

“Why?! Why won’t any of you save me?! Is my life really that worthless?! I don’t want to die here like this!”

No matter how hoarse his voice became, no one dared look his way.

“If I’m going to die, then all of you can die with me!”

He roared with everything he had left. Even though his limbs had already been twisted and broken beyond repair, the hatred burning in his eyes seemed ready to burst out of his sockets.

When he caught sight of the survivors still untouched and alive, the rage inside him exploded even further.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto them as he bellowed through clenched teeth, “You selfish bastards! You’re just standing there, watching us die!”

“Fine then! If that’s how it is, let’s all die here together!”

The moment he finished, he burst into manic laughter. The sound echoed through the museum, cold enough to chill the soul.

He shouted louder and louder, drawing the wandering Cursed Spirits in the surrounding mist toward them.

Shoko Ieiri frowned.

This was bad.

With all the noise he had just made, trying to escape outside would only make things worse.

But they couldn’t stay here, either.

Without hesitation, she turned and led the survivors upstairs at once.

As for whether anyone would lose their way in the mist or get caught by a Cursed Spirit along the way... that would come down to luck.

When they reached the museum’s central hall, a Cursed Spirit in a suit and top hat emerged from the mist before them.

Jack.

At the same time, the people behind them were once again caught by the Serbian Dancing Lady’s influence, their bodies twisting violently against their will.

One brave soul clenched his teeth, gathered every ounce of courage he had, and suddenly shoved the people around him aside.

Then he shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow, rushing straight past Jack.

“It’s... it’s fine! Hurry, let’s follow him!”

Seeing that someone had made it past Jack seemingly unharmed, the rest of the crowd—who had been frozen in fear just moments ago—instantly grew restless.

One by one, they looked ready to make a run for it too.

But then—

Clatter.

A sharp, crisp sound echoed through the hall.

“Huh? What...?”

The man who had just rushed past suddenly felt his stomach go hollow, as though something vital had been ripped out of him.

A second later, his body lost all strength and pitched forward.

“T-That... those are... my intestines...?”

As he fell, he looked down in horror and saw a massive wound split open across his abdomen.

Blood gushed out in a torrent, splashing across the floor in a scene so gruesome it froze everyone in place.

The crimson stain spread across the ground like blooming red flowers, filling the air with the thick, nauseating smell of blood.

“Ugh...! I don’t want to die!”

A woman clutched her head and dropped into a crouch, shrieking hysterically. The panic spread through the crowd in an instant.

They scattered in every direction, no longer caring whether they ran straight into another attack.

Most of them fled blindly.

Only a few stayed by Shoko Ieiri’s side.

They were the smart ones. They understood that as long as they remained with her, their chances of survival were still a little better.

“M-Miss Doctor... what do we do now?”

A man in a suit fought to suppress the terror inside him, forcing himself to speak as steadily as he could.

“Calm down. Stay with me.”

As for the ones who had run off in panic, if they died, they died.

Shoko Ieiri could not save everyone.

This was no place for ideals. Survival came first.

Jack the Ripper blocked the path ahead.

Behind them was the Serbian Dancing Lady.

Shoko Ieiri led the few survivors who still had their wits about them and slowly moved forward through the heavy mist.

Screams, pleas for help, and that horrifying music continued to echo through the empty museum.

As time passed, blood dyed the floor red, and one by one, the screams began to fade.

“D-Doctor... in front of us!”

Shoko Ieiri raised her head and saw it—

Jack the Ripper, bloodstained knife in hand, standing directly in their path.

“We’re finished.”

Shoko Ieiri stared tensely at the Cursed Spirit before her, her expression dark.

“Anyone who wants to live, get down. If you get hit by mistake, that’s not my problem.”

A familiar voice suddenly reached her ears.

It was so familiar that for a moment, Shoko almost thought she had imagined it.

Without hesitation, she dropped into a crouch.

The others, seeing her react like that, hurriedly did the same.

The next instant—

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Golden Noble Phantasms tore through the mist and arrived in an instant.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Jack blocked several of them with his knife, but against the endless barrage pouring from the Gate of Babylon, resistance was meaningless.

He was pierced through in the middle of the storm of Noble Phantasms.

A heartbeat later, the Serbian Dancing Lady was obliterated as well, blasted into a bloody haze beneath the relentless rain of treasures.

“What a pain. These Cursed Spirits have clones everywhere.”

A young man in golden armor stepped out from the mist.

“Long time no see, Shoko.”

The moment she saw him clearly, Shoko Ieiri finally let out the breath she had been holding.

All the tension in her body loosened at once.

If Ragnar Kagenou was here, then this Cursed Spirit outbreak would not last much longer.

“So it really is you... Ragnar.”