something
that transcended mere anger or disgust. It
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was probably that small, hard, nameless core that lies in the deepest part of the mind.
In spite of the facial change, however, her voice remained as cool and dispassionate
as ever.
“Of course, a person’s existence (or nonexistence) cannot be decided on the basis
of mere practical considerations—for example, if he is no longer there, it will
eliminate the difficulties of divorce, say, or hasten the payment of life insurance. We
take such action only as a last resort, after examining all factors closely and fairly, and
arriving at the conclusion that the man deserves no mercy. These parasitical men, who
can only live by sucking the blood of the weak! These incurable men, with their
twisted minds! They have no interest in rehabilitating themselves, and we can find no
value in having them continue to live in this world!”
The dowager closed her mouth and momentarily glared at Aomame with eyes that
could pierce a rock wall. Then she went on in her usual calm tone, “All we can do
with such men is make them vanish one way or another—but always taking care not
to attract people’s attention.”
“Is such a thing possible?”
“There are many ways for people to vanish,” the dowager said, pausing to let her
words sink in. Then she continued, “I can arrange for people to vanish in certain
ways. I have that kind of power at my disposal.”
Aomame struggled to understand, but the dowager’s words were too obscure.
The dowager said, “You and I have both lost people who were important to us. We
lost them in outrageous ways, and we are both deeply scarred from the experience.
Such wounds to the heart will probably never heal. But we cannot simply sit and stare
at our wounds forever. We must stand up and move on to the next action—not for the
sake of our own individual vengeance but for the sake of a more far-reaching form of
justice. Will you help me in my work? I need a capable collaborator in whom I can
put my trust, someone with whom I can share my secrets and my mission. Will you be
that person? Are you willing to join me?”
Aomame took some time to fully comprehend what the dowager had said to her. It
was an incredible confession and an equally incredible proposal. Aomame needed
even more time to decide how she felt about the proposal. As she sorted this out for
herself, the dowager maintained a perfect silence, sitting motionless in her chair,
staring hard at Aomame. She was in no hurry. She seemed prepared to wait as long as
it took.
Without a doubt, this woman has been enveloped by a form of madness
, thought
Aomame.
But she herself is not mad or psychologically ill. No, her mind is rock
steady, unshakably cool. That fact is backed up by positive proof. Rather than
madness, it’s something that resembles madness. A correct prejudice, perhaps. What
she wants now is for me to share her madness or prejudice or whatever it is. With the
same coolheadedness that she has. She believes that I am qualified to do that
.
How long had she been thinking? She seemed to have lost her grasp of time at
some point while she was deeply absorbed in her own thoughts. Only her heart
continued to tick off the time in its hard, fixed rhythm. Aomame visited several little
rooms she possessed inside her, tracing time backward the way a fish swims
upstream. She found there familiar sights and long-forgotten smells, gentle nostalgia
and severe pain. Suddenly, from some unknown source, a narrow beam of light
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pierced Aomame’s body. She felt as though, mysteriously, she had become
transparent. When she held her hand up in the beam, she could see through it.
Suddenly there was no longer any weight to her body. At this moment Aomame
thought,
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