Raven shifted back into her bird form, feathers slick with rain.
"Your designation is 002," she croaked, "also known as The Deep One."
"The… Deep One?"
The Fish-Man blinked at her in confusion. Who could have guessed that the girl was, in truth, just a raven?
"My Master gave you that name for a reason," Raven continued. "Just as she named me The Imitator."
The Fish-Man unconsciously took a step back. "That Master… You mean the one who gave me the Potion?"
His voice cracked. "Y-you… you're human? Are you… human?!"
Raven spread her wings, scattering rain like glassy shards, and landed on his shoulder.
"I'm not human," she said coldly. "And you don't deserve to know about my Master."
Her tone softened to a whisper. "But if you want answers, let's be honest. Think about it—why are you here? Who put you in this body? Don't you crave revenge?"
The Fish-Man's jaw trembled. "Look at me! If anyone sees me like this, I'll be hunted down and caged!"
Raven tilted her head, mimicking Mei's mocking lilt. "Strange. Humans invented endless kinds of clothing, yet it never occurred to you that you could… wear some?"
The Fish-Man glanced at his webbed claws, despair in his eyes. "With this body? Where am I supposed to find clothes that fit?"
Raven sighed, dripping sarcasm with every word. "Can you use that brain at all? Stay here. Don't get caught. I'll handle it."
…
Twenty minutes later, she returned—not as a crow, but as a young woman, lugging several bulging bags.
The Fish-Man sat hunched beneath the eaves, shivering in the rain, arms wrapped around his knees.
"Put these on," Raven ordered, tossing the bags at him.
He stared. "Where… where did you get these? Did you pay for them?"
Raven rolled her eyes. "Tell me, do shop owners pay for their own stock?"
His throat went dry. "You—wait, you own a shop? A raven owns a shop?"
She smirked. "I simply became the shop owner."
Resigned, the Fish-Man slipped into the clothes. They were oversized, hiding most of his features. A mask, a wide-brimmed hat, and sunglasses concealed the rest.
When he finished, Raven draped a raincoat across his shoulders. "There. Now no one will notice your… eccentric anatomy. Though your proportions are still a little… overblown."
The Fish-Man looked down at his clawed hand. "No one can see it… but why… why does it feel—"
His voice broke into a ragged scream. "It feels… so hot!"
"AHH!"
"Aaaaahhh!!"
Suddenly, Fish-Man collapsed to his knees. His body shrank, and in an instant all his grotesque aquatic features melted away.
"I… I changed back?"
He ripped off his gloves, marveling at his restored human hands. But the moment raindrops struck his skin, his fingers warped, stretching into webbed, fishlike claws once more.
"Wait—what?"
"So if I touch water, I become a monster?"
Frantic, he dried his hands and pulled the gloves back on. Sure enough, the transformation reversed. As long as he stayed dry, he could remain human. But the instant he touched water, Fish-Man would return.
"So this means… I can't even take a shower anymore?"
Raven fell silent for a beat, then replied flatly, "Your priorities are truly something else. Enough chatter—are we going to take revenge or not?"
Fish-Man drew a deep breath. "You're right. Revenge."
"This ability may not be perfect, but it's mine. And I'll never go back to the way I was before!"
He walked the rain-slick streets. Few people ventured out on such a stormy day, and passersby barely glanced his way.
Only one teenager paused, frowning as he caught a whiff.
"Enko, what's wrong?"
"Nothing… I just smelled something fishy."
"Forget it. Probably just a street vendor selling fish."
...
Far out in a suburban district, an abandoned wheel factory sat shrouded in mist. Inside, seven men lounged around a scarred wooden table, cards and poker chips scattered between them.
"Two cards—taking them or not?"
"I'll fold two."
"By the way, what about that kid? Did you really just dump him?"
"Don't worry. We didn't kill him."
"He'll live," one man said with a shrug.
Another glanced out the broken window. "It's been pouring for days."
"Rainy season."
"This weather reminds me of a web novel I read once," a third added. "The killer only struck when it rained. Wore a raincoat. One night, he killed nine people in a row, left no trace."
"And every time he killed, he cried. I thought he was insane."
"But it turned out… he wasn't even human!"
A thunderclap boomed above, rattling the factory. The men flinched.
The storyteller kept going, grinning. "What's with those faces? I'm not finished yet."
"I thought the twist was going to be some deep psychological thing. But the murderer? A fish. Can you believe it?"
His words fell into silence. One of the men raised a shaking hand and pointed.
"Behind… you."
The storyteller turned. A man in a drenched black coat stood motionless at the gate, rain dripping in steady streams from his frame.
The stranger stepped inside. Quietly. He peeled away his soaked garments one by one, revealing nothing more than an ordinary human underneath.
"Hah. It's just that kid. We were worried over nothing."
Another laughed harshly. "We were about to rework our plans, but—"
He froze.
The boy turned, walked back out into the storm, and let the rain devour him.
His limbs twisted. Bones cracked and rearranged. Scales tore across his flesh. His skull warped into a gaping fish head, while jagged fins ripped free from his spine.
When he returned, it was no boy—only the monster.
Fish-Man.
The gang staggered back in horror.
"Fi… Fish-Man?"
Clack. Clack.
Webbed feet slapped against the concrete, echoing through the hall.
Panic erupted. Men snatched up pipes, bricks—anything at hand.
"He's coming!"
"What the hell is that thing?!"
"Stay calm—hold your ground!"
CRACK!
The creature lunged, dropping to all fours in a grotesque, predatory sprint.
"Run! Run now!"
One man broke first, bolting for the exit—only to be tackled mid-stride.
He shrieked, thrashing, boots hammering against the monster's abdomen. But the Fish-Man didn't flinch.
"No—don't kill me! Somebody, help!!"
The creature loomed over him, its vision drowning in crimson haze. With a single savage wrench, Fish-Man's claws snapped the man's neck. Silence.
…
When he regained awareness, the Fish-Man stood in a slaughterhouse. Seven bodies, mangled beyond recognition, sprawled across the factory floor. His claws dripped with blood and torn flesh.
He lifted his trembling hands, staring. Tears welled, spilling over uncontrollably.
"Did… did I kill them? All of them?"
Covering his eyes with shaking palms, he sobbed, laughter and grief tangled together.
"I didn't… I didn't want this… ha ha ha…"
"Ha ha—oh oh—I don't want to kill anyone… I don't want to… huh huh… ohhh!"
At the gate, a lone figure froze, horrified at the nightmare inside.
Hearing the sound, Fish-Man's tear-streaked face snapped up.
The onlooker's instincts screamed—he spun on his heel and ran.
Behind him, the sobbing grew louder, echoing through the rain, clinging to every desperate step.
"Huhu… ohhh… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…!"
The young man stumbled, unable to even cry for help before the monster was upon him.
Fish-Man dragged the limp body back inside, weeping all the while.
"I don't want… huh huh… ohhh…"
But outside… someone else had survived.
He cowered in a rusting container, hands clamped over his mouth. Sweat streamed down his temples, his entire body shivering with cold terror that sank straight to his bones.
Half an hour crawled by. He didn't move a muscle. The storm drowned the world, the only sound the endless patter of rain.
"What… what is that thing?"
Images of the massacre flashed again in his mind. His pupils quaked. His stomach lurched.
Finally, he risked it—peeking out through the container's gap. Nothing. Empty rain-slick ground.
Relief almost reached him.
Then, from directly behind—an unhinged, broken shriek split the night.
"Ohhh ha ha ha! Do you hear it? Do you hear it?! Ahhh ha ha ha ha!!"
!!!
He whipped around.
Two wide, gleaming eyes hovered inches from his own.
Snap.