Pitbabe S2, Chapter 35 pg 4
Pitbabe S2, Chapter 35 pg 4
“It’s not easy, but there are plenty of ways to pull it off,” the Japanese guy replied with a confident look. I’d bet he’d spent nights thinking through every possible method before coming to talk to me today. “Obviously, not every death results in bleeding. Or even if there’s blood, he might not have the strength to wipe it into his mouth or lean down to lick it. So his go-to trick is biting his tongue.”
Of course… it’s that simple.
No wonder a filthy bastard like him never stays dead.
“So if you’re gonna kill him, first, make sure no one can help him within that first half-hour. Even if he’s stopped breathing, keep his body away from his lackeys or anyone who doesn’t want him dead. Second, try not to make him bleed—sometimes blood might splash into his mouth or drip in by chance. Third, don’t let him close his mouth. Stuff something in there, as tight as possible, so he can’t bite. And fourth, if you’re gonna kill him, go all the way. Make sure he can’t move at all. Even if you’ve stuffed his mouth and tied his hands and feet, if his body can still move, he might use his last bit of strength to smash his head on the ground to draw blood. Don’t forget, just a speck of blood in his mouth is enough. If it were me, I’d probably rub my mouth on the blood-soaked floor. That way, some’s bound to get in.”
Honestly, in all my life, I’ve never had to sit and think about ways to kill someone like this before. Even if it’s someone I despise, the idea of premeditated, brutal murder makes me so nauseous I want to vomit just thinking about it.
But Kenta spoke about it so easily, so methodically. I can’t even imagine how horrific his life must have been or how despicable Tony must be to raise someone to think like this.
“I don’t know if you’ll ever have to use this,” Kenta said, his voice softening, perhaps because I accidentally let some expression slip. He probably thought I was scared or disgusted by him, but that wasn’t it at all. I… felt sorry for him. “But if it doesn’t work out, you might have to kill him before he kills you.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I couldn’t help but ask. “If you already know all this, why don’t you do it yourself?”
“Because I don’t have what it takes,” Kenta replied, looking away as if he couldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m alone. If I tried, I’d just end up dead. But you… you have friends. They’re all ready to help you.”
For a fleeting moment, I caught a glimmer of vulnerability in Kenta’s eyes. The man before me today wasn’t the Kenta I knew. He seemed alive, with a soul and a fierce will, but still bound by heavy chains. Passing on this information, telling someone everything he knew, was the most he could do.
And that someone was me.
“How do you know all this?”
“Way told me.”
I froze. I swear, that was nowhere near the answer I expected.
“Way kept records about Tony in a safe hidden in the showroom. He gave me the keycard and the code a long time ago, saying to open it if anything happened to him. But I got locked up before I could, so I only got to it now.”
Even in death, Way still managed to mess with my head. He kept all this hidden, stayed silent as if he knew nothing, acted like he was on Tony’s side, made me and everyone hate him, and then left a massive bomb behind. Meanwhile, he just died and slipped away, completely irresponsible.
Way was probably no different from Kenta. He knew what needed to be done but didn’t have the guts to do it himself. So he used someone else’s hands, choosing a day when he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences. He was selfish to his very last breath.
“Way probably thought I was close to Tony, that I’d have the best shot at pulling it off. That’s why he entrusted it to me.”
“But you didn’t do it.”
“Yeah, he got that part wrong. Way overestimated me,” Kenta shrugged. He didn’t seem too upset about failing to follow through on Way’s plan. “Plus, he probably wouldn’t be thrilled that I’m telling you about this.”
“Why… because I’m too weak?”
“Are you crazy? He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you getting mixed up with that house again.”
I’ll admit, I hadn’t even considered that.
The idea that Way was trying to protect me wasn’t my first thought, not since two years ago when he did that awful thing to me.
“Way knows how hard you tried to get out of that place. He wouldn’t dare drag you back into it,” Kenta said.
“But he did that to me, didn’t he?” I replied.
“Then why ask me? He didn’t consult me when he made that decision,” Kenta shot back.
That day, Kenta told me everything he knew about Tony—not just about the life-reviving “sense” Tony was trying to hide, but also his weaknesses, the blind spots and dangers in his mansion, the businesses he was running, and the situation inside his household. Kenta said Tony had expanded his network far beyond before, with connections in both the government and the military. They were major sponsors of some secret project Tony was deliberately keeping from Kenta, no longer trusting him as he once did. He only kept Kenta around because he valued his skills. (Kenta suspected it might be related to a new project Tony was quietly working on.) The reason Kenta chose to share this insider information with me was that he knew he could be eliminated at any moment if Tony grew suspicious of him. He feared all the knowledge he had would die with him, uselessly.
“Thanks… for everything,” I said, never imagining I’d say something like that to Kenta. He seemed startled—leaning toward disgusted, even. Kenta didn’t respond, just gave a light wave as if to say, “Whatever,” before turning to get into his car.
“Hey!” I called out. Kenta turned back with an annoyed look, like, What now?
“You want to be friends with me or something?” I asked.
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