"To be alive, isn't to be alive?" asked Spectre in disbelief.

"No, it isn't....Everyone has their own answer to that question.Since you asked, I will give you my insights, Spectre."

"You may listen and take notes, but do not take them as your own.In the future, you will have your own answers to these questions."

Kalil spoke in a soft tone.

"In my opinion, there are two definitions of being alive.The first is to be like the jagged beasts outside the city.Thirsting only for food to fill their bellies, caves to shelter in, and mates to mate with.No thoughts beyond that."

"The second is different."

"The pursuit of delicious food.The pursuit of a home that is not only sheltered from the elements, but also exquisitely comfortable.The pursuit of the lover you love and who loves you back....And the pursuit of life, child.".

"Can you tell the difference, Spectre?"

Once again, the ghost answered Karil with its characteristic blank expression.

The ghost could not help but laugh, and the sound echoed through the asylum; the wind outside the house howled mournfully, and his laughter mingled with it, but did not make it frightening.

"......I don't see the difference, Karil."The Spectre replied with slight frustration.He was so easy to read, all his emotions written on his face like an open book.

Still smiling, Karil shook his head."It's normal that you don't understand, and no one would ask a one and a half year old to understand, but I want you to remember one thing."

"What is that?"

Khalil spoke quietly, "The one called Barry, it is the second kind he seeks."

The Spectre's eyes widened in surprise - Khalil had described the second kind so beautifully that it made him wonder what Barry had to do with the second kind.

"Actually, Spectre, all the gangs and nobles on Nostramo are pursuing the second, but that doesn't mean the second is bad; they're just using the wrong method, and, well, it's terribly wrong."

"Method?"

"Yes, the method....You can't be blamed for all this.There's something wrong with this world, Spectre."

Kahlil tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed in mild exhaustion, his voice softening over the next few moments, like a bedtime whisper or a dreamy murmur.

"Everyone wants a better life, everyone wants to live with dignity.No one wants to endure the harsh conditions of a factory for eighteen hours and then drag their tired bodies back home, coughing up blood in a foul-smelling, cramped hovel and bringing disease to their families......".

The Spectre saw rain streaking across Khalil's face.

"No one wants to put up with these things, and no one should, but they have to. They had only two choices, join a gang or die sometime late at night."

"Those who chose the latter had to swallow it all, swallow the suffering, the sadness, the anger, the despair....Some resisted, but their resistance is nothing in the face of an automatic weapon."

"It shouldn't be like this, Spectre," Khalil said in a low voice."This is not how the world is supposed to work."

"......Are you sad, Khalil?"The ghost asked carefully.

"No."

"But you seem to be in--"

"-- Wake me up in seven hours, will you, Spectre?"

"Huh?"

"I need to rest for a while."Karyl opened her eyes and smiled calmly."We have one last step in our plan, so wake me up in seven hours, okay?"

"......Okay, Kalil."The Spectre replied in a low voice.

For some reason, the Spectre was a little sad at the moment.

But not because of Barry.

The blades dragged along the walls, making a sharp, deafening noise as they struck the walls of the underpass, quickly becoming grotesque and distorted; in the darkness and stench, such sounds certainly inspired more fear.

Kahlil walked slowly, placing his feet at a leisurely pace so that he could better control the speed of the blade's stroke.

He was very knowledgeable about this, and he knew what angle and force to use to draw the blade across what kind of wall to create a sharper, stranger sound.

Of course, he didn't do it for the purpose of making experimental music, or because he idly decided to destroy this underpass with a knife.

In fact, Khalil did it for one reason.

To sow fear.

People would always fear the unknown, and that was exactly what he was going for.

He could hear the muffled gasps of the person in front of him as she struggled to contain her fear, and the sound of her footsteps that she thought she was doing a good job of hiding. The underground passageway amplified all sounds.

He could kill her right now.

But not yet.

Or rather, not enough.

After five minutes of standing still, a massive black shadow leapt over his head, and the Spectre bent down and whispered in his ear, "Aren't we going to kill her?"

"Of course kill her."

"But she got away."

"She won't get far, this underpass ends at Lynch Avenue, there she will find the leader of the Bloodtooth Gang, and then she will be granted asylum......".

"Do the Bloodtooths recognize her?"

"No, but they recognize the symbol of the Skolewalker family, so they'll protect her on faith......Just like the previous gang.No gang can turn down the chance to meet the nobility."

"......I still don't get it."The Spectre said honestly."Karil, you said you gave them twelve hours to run or hide, but that time is almost up now."

Khalil grinned slowly.

"That's exactly what I want.Twelve hours is just a cover, Spectre."

"From the moment I say that time limit, they will start counting.They will tense, tremble, and even break down expecting the twelve hours to pass sooner......Fear will make them forget many things.".

"Oh......So you lied to them when you said twelve hours?"

"Not exactly."

Khalil laughed softly."They can hide, run, or try to resist for up to twelve hours.But once the twelve hours are up, they're dead either way."

The Spectre blinked, unable for the moment to comprehend just how horrible Karyl's words were to her prey, but he still had a few questions that needed to be answered.

Karyl had told him that if he had questions, he could always ask them.

"How do you know where they are?" asked Spectre suspiciously. "We didn't even do a preliminary survey this time."

"Because I have some special little ways."

"Oh. You said there were three of them?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't they stay together?"

"Because the Skolewalks needed an heir to the title, and nobles always have strange obsessions in strange places....One of them apparently thought that dispersing the escape would better increase the chances of survival."

Saying this, a face flashed before Karil's eyes.

He decided to save it for last.

The rain continued, and after seven hours of rest, Kalil had regained his energy, though sleeping against the chair made his neck a little sore, but overall it was nothing.

"Let's go, Spectre, she should have joined the Bloodtooth gang by now..."

Khalil said quietly, "Remember, remember to be quiet later."

"......Oh."The apparition fumbled for an answer.

How strange.He thought.Hadn't Khalil always asked for quiet work?Why would he say it more than once?

He certainly doesn't know why, and he doesn't need to.

There are many ways to create fear.

-----------------

Lena Skolewalker was almost out of her mind.She was cowering in the basement of the Blood and Teeth gang compound, covered in sewage and pudgy, and she couldn't even take a breath.

She was afraid that her breath would attract the monster that lurked in the darkness.

That vengeful...fierce spirit.

Just as she was gasping in fear, there was a knock at the basement door, and Lena Skolewalker immediately raised the automatic weapon she had in her hand and stared at the door, not saying a word.

Her eyes were glazed to the limit, her mouth wide open, but she didn't dare breathe, and the scar that ran the length of her face was now flushed with a faint red color.

A kind of insane brokenness blossomed on the once regal face, making her look very different from Lena Skolewalker.

"Uh......Ms. Lena Skolewalker?"

A hesitant voice came from outside the basement door."I'm Ralph from the Blood and Teeth Gang, do you need a change of clothes?Acid rain is corrosive, ma'am?Are you still there?"

The Blood and Teeth Gang's......

Lena sighed in relief, her cheeks twitching but still not completely relaxed, she stood up and slowly made her way to the corner that led to the basement door and asked in a low voice, "Is there any movement out there?"

"Uh?"

"Is there any movement outside?"

"......Is this your first time in Quintus?It's raining outside, and there are some people racing cars in the streets.There's a great place for racing right at the end of Lynch Avenue-"

Lena Skolewalker took a deep breath and stifled the urge to scream; in just one short question and answer, the anxiety that was spreading from the bottom of her heart began to eat away at what little sanity she had left.

Her hands began to shake again.

"No, no, listen to me, Ralph of the Blood and Teeth Gang."

Clutching her gun, Lena did her best to keep her voice solemn.

"What you need to do is simple, you need to keep an eye on what's going on out there, and pay special attention to the singing....And also send someone to contact the Glory Dude and tell him that Lena Skolewalker sent you.".

"......"

The man outside the basement door grunted uncertainly, then replied, "Well, dear lady, we'll do that. Just holler if you need anything, okay?"

Lena didn't answer, she just shivered.

Something similar had happened before.

At first, she was hopeful that she would be able to escape.

Her confidence was also bolstered by the attitude of the gangs when they saw her clothes and the Skolewalker emblem she produced.

After all, not all gangs had nobles behind them, and even nobles who were enemies wouldn't let their gangs murder each other's heirs in the Lower Nest during a non-Great Purge.

Then...... That highway nightmare drifted in.

Lena remembered that the first gang to help her was called the Blood Mist Gang, they had an old building for their quarters, and their numbers weren't exactly small, well over two hundred.

At the time, Lena still thought that they could get her through the twelve hours, but she was wrong.

The twelve-hour countdown slowly ticked down to the final three hours, and at that moment, at that moment when she thought she was at peace.......

Then came the nightmare.

First came the singing.

Low, long, with a palpable darkness, the melody was soft, but it was like a blade rubbing against the delicate skin of the neck.

It was the same as when they were on the highway.

It traveled into the Blood Mist Gang's compound and into everyone's ears, and then the ghostly murders began.

Starting from the ground floor of the old building, screams and howls erupted, interspersed with gunshots, all the way to the top of the fourth floor where Lena was...... It never stopped.

And then what?

Lena shuddered and swallowed a mouthful of foul-smelling saliva.The smell and the strange sensation on her taste buds made her realize one thing in despair.

She knew she feared that her honor was currently devoid of the aura expected of a Skolewalker's heir.She breathed in stale air, her skin burning from the acid rain, and most of all......

She was scared to death.

Too scared to even remember how the creature had broken into the last level and killed everyone in front of her.

Trembling, Lena pulled a pocket watch from her arms.It was twenty-four hours, beautifully made, and had the crest of House Skolewalk on the back.The people of the Lower Nest did not care about time, but the nobles did.

They knew that above the boiling purple-black clouds of Nostramo lay a faint sun.

Lena Skolewalker looked at her watch, gazing hopefully and tremblingly at the minute and second hands that moved slowly across the silver-white dial of the pocket watch, the mechanism clicking, echoing her heartbeat.

Almost there, almost there......

Twelve hours were almost up.

She cried out, sobbing in the middle of the filthy basement of a despised gang of down-and-outs.

Her clothes were filthy and tattered, the insides of her fingernails were black, and the soles of her fine leather boots were covered in the mud she had stepped on in her panic to escape.

But...

Twelve hours are almost up.

There were still five minutes to go.

If she survived those five minutes, she could return to the Upper Nest, she could be Lena Skolewalker again, and she could rely on her family's power to hang that monster in the middle of the Great Purge......It might be able to withstand forty privateers, but what if it was four hundred?.

Yes, yes, it must be possible.

She sobbed and smiled, the two looks of devastation and hope flickering back and forth across her dirty face, glancing at her pocket watch, silently counting its beats, mentally wishing the time would go faster.

And then.

And finally.

Five minutes......The end.The second hand passed, then the minute hand, and finally the hour hand, skipping over the quaint numbers and continuing to beat on machines that only nobles could read.

Lena watched in amazement.

One second, two seconds, three seconds......

Trembling, she stood up, still crying, but crying with ecstasy.A smile inevitably spread across the corners of her mouth, and she almost wanted a big laugh.There were no killing sounds coming from outside the basement door like before......That meant the creature hadn't found her.

She lost it!

Slowly she made her way up the stairs, her boots making a muffled sound against the wood.Lena Skolewalker hopefully pushed open the basement door, and then she saw - a dead body.

A dead body.

And a dark shadow.

And finally, a low singing voice.

Low, long, with a palpable somberness, the melody was soft, yet had the feel of a blade being rubbed against the delicate skin of the neck.

"No, no, no......"

At the end of her life, Lena Skolewalker screamed in broken agony, sounding like a slaughtered animal.