Chapter Thirty-One: The Human Puzzle

After landing, Jenome regained control of his body and began to breathe heavily, pushing his breathing technique to its utmost limit. The vital energy surged through his body, rapidly circulating and repairing every wound left from the leap.

Clap, clap, clap—the sound of Blade’s repeated jumps echoed in Jenome’s ears, three times in five minutes. The Blade, who had finally returned to normal, now looked once more like the haunted figure Jenome had first seen.

Feeling somewhat recovered, Jenome drew a deep breath. He was determined to test a theory of his.

Shield in his right hand, Jenome stepped into Blade’s path, blocking his way, and lightly tapped Blade with his round shield. Blade toppled backwards, the perspective shifted, and Jenome became the jumper once again.

But this time, Jenome was calm. As the ghost emerged from Blade’s body, it appeared even fainter than before. If his suspicions were correct, with every jump, the ghost suffered some damage—most likely from the thorny aura surrounding them.

Blade seemed to realize this as well. Once separated, he lay flat on the ground, focusing all his strength on recovering his wounds, preparing to relieve Jenome.

So it went, over a dozen cycles, until neither of them was recognizable, battered beyond what even their parents would know. Yet the results were evident: they could now communicate during possession.

“How many more times can you last?” Blade asked, leaning against the wall.

“Two more, then we switch,” Jenome replied, enunciating each word.

After two times, Blade grabbed Jenome’s right hand and yanked it back. The ghost appeared, but this time Blade instinctively dodged, sidestepping nimbly. The ghost, perhaps confused by too many jumps, did not continue the attack after missing, but instead cast a deep look at the two of them and walked toward the rooftop’s edge.

“Hey, little sister, why must you keep jumping?” Jenome called out, attempting to speak with the ghost.

The ghost looked as if she wanted to respond, but her soul would not obey. Blade scratched his head, then dashed to her side and, at the very moment she leapt, caught her and pulled her back.

Once the cycle was broken, the ghost exploded into fragments, and Blade and Jenome witnessed a series of images. In these scenes, the girl danced joyfully, her mother applauding beside her. But as time passed, the applause ceased, replaced by vicious curses, words laced with venom that ceaselessly tormented the girl, insinuating that she should jump.

The final image was the girl removing her beloved ballet shoes, then leaping from the rooftop.

When the vision faded, Blade and Jenome found themselves back in the haunted house. As their eyes met, both saw the same blazing fury reflected in the other.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Frank and Vernon wandered through the hospital. The halls were empty, but reeked of blood. On every table they passed lay an organ, though what this signified, they could not say.

Suddenly, Frank spotted an empty table, and at that moment, a creature with its chest cavity gaping open emerged from a nearby room. Tubes protruded from its back, reaching up to the ceiling, and its chest was hollowed out, as if completely emptied.

“Let’s get him!” Frank and Vernon exchanged a glance and hurled their small knives at the creature.

The blade struck true, embedding itself in the monster, but Frank immediately coughed up blood, feeling as though a knife had stabbed into his lung.

“Don’t fight!” Frank gaped, spitting out blood frosted with white foam.

Vernon seized Frank’s hand, and in an instant, green light flared; the wound in Frank’s lung healed at once.

The monster, watching them, opened its mouth in a grotesque grin, but emitted not a sound.

“If we can’t attack him, what about those organs on the tables?” Frank asked as he quickly retreated.

“I’ll try.” Vernon flicked his finger, and a seed dropped beside a table. A plant sprouted, its tip ending in a tiny spike, and it gingerly prodded the heart on the table.

Vernon gasped, his knees buckling. Frank, quick as ever, caught him as the monster, wielding a huge cleaver, advanced steadily, showing no sign of stopping.

“I think we need to put these organs back inside him, then send him on his way. What do you think?” Frank asked, dodging as he spoke.

“That seems right. I can restrain him, but I don’t know medicine. Do you?” Vernon replied.

Frank thought for a moment. He’d never attended medical school, but after killing so many and performing battlefield first aid, plus a stint in S.H.I.E.L.D. studying human anatomy, he was probably up to the task. After all, the man was already dead—no need for the caution reserved for the living.

“You tie him up, I’ll give it a try.”

“Alright.”

Vernon’s low voice echoed through the empty hospital. Vines snaked out from the walls, weaving a massive web across the corridor. The mindless creature stepped right in and was instantly entangled, crashing to the floor.

With the threat subdued, Frank carefully picked up the heart from the table and stood before the open chest. The monster wasn’t especially large, but the splayed chest made it seem so. After a moment’s calculation, Frank set the heart inside.

“Easy!” Vernon called out, wincing as pain shot through his own chest. “Why is it I get hurt when you’re putting him together?”

“Maybe because you’re the one holding him down,” Frank replied, gathering the remaining organs.

The number of organs was correct, but their arrangement was another matter. Each adjustment Frank made drew another wince from Vernon, who by the end was sitting on the floor, unable to speak from the pain.

As soon as the chest was closed, even before Frank could act, the bound body began to rot, melting into a puddle of pus within seconds.

Frank and Vernon both saw a short vision: a once-healthy man entering the hospital, then being hollowed out until he became a monster; his organs, stolen and implanted into others. Clearly, this had been an illegal organ trade.

“Vernon, aren’t druids supposed to revere nature? What would your people do in the face of this?” Frank asked coldly.

“Nature has its own wrath,” Vernon replied, as the vines around them twisted and rustled. “And you?”

“Me? I have plenty of experience dealing with scum like this. More than enough,” Frank said quietly, murder already glinting in his eyes.

A few seconds later, the world around them gradually returned to normal. They were back in the haunted house, but after what they had just witnessed, the haunted house no longer inspired any fear. Frightening as it was, some hospitals were far worse.