The satisfying sound came first.
Not an explosion.
Just a wet, delicate pop.
Arson's laughter continued for exactly half a second after his heart had already been removed. Then the realization struck. The dragon's grin twitched. His hot glowing eyes shrank to pinpricks, and a jagged crack raced across his face as both clawed hands, still tied by his whiskers, shot toward the gaping wound in his chest.
"…Ah." The word escaped surprisingly human, Quiet. Confused. Arson looked down. A hole the size of a head had been carved clean through its torso. Dark red leaked from the wound in violent bursts, coughing outward like a furnace struggling to breathe.
And there, in Sir Scott's hand, lay a Sins core.
The organ looked nothing like a humans' Not a twitch, not a shiver. A heart, real enough to make the stomach turn. Dark red, glistening with clotted veins, the texture of living flesh now drained of life. The arteries coiled like dead serpents around it, and the ventricles sat collapsed, devoid of purpose.
And in the center, carved into the muscle itself, a single letter: "A"
Bold. Black. Matte against the wet meat, as if branded with ink. Arson's body staggered backward through the clouds. As his jaws opened to speak, the heart in Scott's palm finally throbbed. "No…" the sound came from the heart itself, reverberating through the now gentle air.
The Sin's blessing flickered erratically. The flames once coating its body dimmed and surged without rhythm. Wooden scales peeled off in defeat.
"How…?" Its voice cracked. "How did you find it…?"
Sir Scott turned the heart over once in his hand, studying it with mild curiosity. His expression remained unreadable behind the sunglasses.
He paused, reluctant at first, then spoke directly to Arson's true form.
"It's all about sound," he said bluntly, and went on. "Wearing these sunshades turn me blind so I rely on other senses. When I knocked on your wooden skin, the vibration traveled through your insides, which I assume was just all blood. It eventually bounced off the only solid object inside, your heart. Understand?"
An explanation was pointless. The heart buckled and writhed, clawing for an impossible escape. Scott simply tightened his grip. The corpse, despite separated from the heart answered with a single, useless spasm, like a body remembering how to flinch.
Scott's voice turned grim, frayed at the edges with something that wasn't quite anger....more of irritation.
"Why were you boasting just now?" he murmured, eyes hidden behind glass that saw nothing. "All that noise. Trying to piss me off?" His fingers tightened.
The heart in his grip convulsed, a wet, sickening thing. Dark blood, nearly black, seeped between his knuckles in slow, reluctant ropes. It didn't drip. It clung.
Across from him, Arson's puppet, his wooden, snarling mask of a body, wrenched itself into unnatural angles. Joints popped with dry, splintering cracks. It wasn't moving on its own. It was being folded. As if invisible fingers squeezed with anger.
"P-please…" The voice bled out from the air around the heart, tired. "It hurts. Stop it."
Sins didn't feel true pain. Their hearts were kept locked away, buried behind large puppets of mock flesh, in Arson's case; dry wood.
Behind voices that roared and teeth that gnashed. The true self never bled. Never begged.
Until now.
Scott's grip didn't ease. If anything, it grew tighter. Arson's heart panicked "I can't die...! Goliath listen, do you know how long it took to reach this level of strength?! Arson isn't as frequent as before, this isn't 1937. I can't start all over!"
Arson's rambling was cut short. Golden flame burst over the Bishops' fist, swallowing the heart whole and roasting it with white-hot fury. The fire looked different from what the Sin had weaponized. It looked more unforgiving, like divine judgement punishing the serpent for simply existing.
Some feet away, the corpse finally stopped.
Fire that burned Arson's mane and wrists died completely, exposing charred paper frills that drifted like weak petals. Gravity took the chance, finally pulling the massive beast down through the clouds.
"Uh-oh." Scott jolted after dusting his gloves. Immediately appearing beside the corpse at the sound of a kitchen bell. The soldier quickly grabbed a teeth with his right arm, somehow lifting the entire body with just that. "Can't have you landing on Fukui now." He said with an almost playful tone, imagining the scenario.
The golden cross, just below his military necklace vibrated with a dull, insistent buzz. Scott picked and replied. "Allen Scott reporting, Arson has been exterminated." He said bluntly, as if all that chaos was routine.
He let the cross rest back, before returning his attention to the corpse. Thinking to himself with slight relief. 'Thank God, it isn't disintegrating.... that means he's not respawning any time soon.' Scott adjusted his sunshades then slowly let go of the corpse. Before the thing could finish its slow descent, the bishop moved.
He didn't chant, but did a hand gesture as if conjuring something.
Four translucent walls manifested, forming a loose cube, locking into place mid-air. No seams. No sound. Just appearing from thin air.
They glowed - not bright, but warm. Like sunlight through honey.
The creature hit the first wall that acted as a floor and stopped.
Then the other parts followed suite and enclosed Arson's dead body in a make shift show glass. Effectively containing him.
A rough groan escaped Scott's mouth as he stretched, years of combat settled in his joints with a quiet ache. Scott floated down with a giant cage floating beside him. Inside: A terrifying monster reduced to worthless cargo.
Rooftops rose to meet him as Scott descended.
His mind wasn't on landing, but the blemished hot springs. The corpse retrieval of all those innocent lives lost to a Sin.
And her. The girl he'd pulled from Arson's claw too close for comfort.
Thump
His black leather boot responded to the battered floor. The scene was as he expected. Men in uniform worked in silence, some police, some not, zipping black cloths over what used to be people. A few victims still had pulse. Their bodies Burned. Broken. But still alive.
The explosion must have been from the bottle on Arson's tail, it took out the entire neighborhood before reaching the hot springs. Scott thought to himself, clenching hard enough to crush an apple. To think such destruction happened under seconds, even without a Blessing. Sins were utter calamities.
The Bishop's sigh rattled in his chest. Guilt gnawing his insides. 'If only I arrived sooner...' the thought played before fully forming. Scott's presence eventually hauled attention from the workers around. They nearly gasped in shock, trying their best to continue working.
The men on uniform, who weren't Police, weren't Priests. Not even fighters.
They were Hataki '羽根たき'
Trained specialists in safety-orange shirts and brown overalls, caked in dust from head to toe. Red caps pulled low, eyes darting - nervous to be standing in the same area as a Bishop. Bright yellow gloves. Tool belts clinking.
And on every cap: the black Feather Duster logo. Simply put "Cleanup crew"
"Ah, sir!" A female officer called, jogging quickly. Her pace immediately died as she glanced above the soldier. Arson's corpse enclosed in a colossal see through cube, hovering above a giant of a man standing dejectedly.
"G-good work today, sir!" She managed saying, her arm saluted with a swift motion. Her name tag read "Maru Mei" the same dark skinned officer Hori met on day 1.
The woman maintained her posture to the unresponsive bishop, not moving until he said so. Scott asked, face front. "Officer Maru, how many casualties?" His voice lower than expected.
"Eh....27 dead and 54 injured, sir." The officer replied, taking her cap off for a moment of silence. Short Blonde hair framed her face. Their eyes scanned the scene.
The air smelled like smoke and wet concrete. Police tape fluttered about. A semi crater steamed where the neighborhood used to be.
In the foreground: Yumi Sato, early 30s, a JTV reporter. Her hair damp, suit jacket missing. She held a mic with a shaky hand. Both eyes red while a cameraman frames her. The JTV logo on her mic flag.
The DIRECTOR spoke through her earpiece. Yumi-san we're live in 3... 2...Yumi inhaled, She looked past the camera, at a child's severed arm, half-buried in rubble. She swallowed, then steadied herself.
"This is Yumi Sato, live for JTV News from Katsuyama Fukui."
"It's... it's 12:42 PM. Barely 30 minutes ago this was a street full of people. Students. Couples. Shop clerks on break. She gestured behind her. Hataki carried a stretcher under a tarp.
"The local Police Agency confirms at least 27 dead... with 54 people injured." Her voice cracked as she pressed her lips together, then continued. "Based on footage from popular news network 'Live Bouts' the incident was caused by the Sin of Arson." The camera man shuddered, to think a sin laid where they stood.
Yumi looked down at her notes, but didn't read them.
"The local priest, Nakamura Hiroshi-san, lost his life while confronting Arson. He acted as a direct defense before Bishop number 6; Sir Allen Scott was dispatched to the scene by SHO Tokyo branch. Details of Nakamura-san's death are still unclear, but his sacrifice will never be forgotten. Japan is once again in debt to another Priest."
That last line struck a chord in Scott, standing some feet away from the reporter. Deliberately refusing an interview after the fight. He glanced below, the female police officer still standing at his side, head bent in remorse.
Scott placed his huge palm on her shoulder, nearly tipping the woman over due to his size. "A bill will be issued as compensation for all this. So please, make sure it's managed properly." He said calmly, finally looking in her eyes.
"Of course sir!" Mei saluted to which Sir Scott smiled.
As if it were normal, Scott slowly began levitating. Leaving the officer in awe which she hid with a stern expression. "I'll be taking Arson to Tokyo now. A new Priest will be assigned to Katsuyama as quickly as possible."
"Understood sir! Once again, thank you for protecting us. We are all grateful." She bowed this time, her posture more free than her earlier salutes.
Scott nodded and vanished. Just like that. The Bishop, as well as Arson's corpse were absent at the sound of a kitchen bell. The same teleportation showcased before.
Mei exhaled, the weight of the day still pressing on her chest. She rejoined the other officers, falling back into the routine of the scene. Above, the Fukui sky looked exhausted, like it had never seen this kind of chaos before. But skies heal. Eventually, they always do.