She is not an investigator.

"It's a little, but not a big problem. This kind of impact might bother me for a while, but it's not too dangerous."

Igris's face was frighteningly red, probably because she had been accidentally affected by the mist, but the effect was very limited.

Perhaps it's because of her new body, which has an alarmingly high level of rationality.

"That's all for now. I'm going back now to get some fresh air. Take care."

"All right…?"

Constantine seemed about to say something, but Igris had already left and returned to the street.

She took a deep breath and then a deep breath, savoring the taste of the night air. Although it was meaningless, she always had to do something else to distract herself.

This effect is not strong, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Igris can feel it gradually dissipating, and it will probably disappear completely soon.

So here comes another question: what exactly is it, and why has it been able to remain and influence Wilson for so long, but in Igris's body it seems about to disappear?

Is this some kind of secret treasure? Igris had thought that secret treasures would be something more concrete, like physical objects, rather than this kind of abstract concept.

Of course, it's also possible that it wasn't, but simply ordinary pollution that happened to appear next to Igris at this particular time and was conveniently resolved by her.

"This is driving me crazy..."

Igris sighed deeply and began her journey back to the agency.

Although it was dark, it wasn't actually that late. At least the streetlights outside made the night less lonely, even though Igris never needed those lights for illumination.

But perhaps someone will need it.

Or rather, not human.

"rabbit?"

Yes, under the streetlights not far away, a rabbit, its fighting prowess enhanced by the light, was silently watching Igris.

It was very eye-catching, both because of the light overhead, which resembled a searchlight, and because of its white body, which seemed to reflect light everywhere.

Furthermore, Igris has a certain obsession with rabbits.

A bizarre stage play – The Book of Secrets: Chapter Twenty-Six, The Rabbit?

Why is there a rabbit?

It was strange, so strange that it had an indescribable eeriness. Igris didn't know why, but at least subconsciously, she didn't want to get close to the rabbit.

Perhaps because of the lighting, it looks too white, even whiter than white.

It was a very strange way of describing it, but it was the only adjective Igris could think of.

The rabbit was quiet and well-behaved; it simply stood there, quietly staring at Igris.

A rabbit that doesn't move at all, only able to stand still in one place.

A rabbit, indescribably white, just staring at her.

"..."

It's time for Igris to go.

She shouldn't have been staring at a rabbit in thought for so long. She should have gone back to her office, let Momokawa know she was safe, and told her about all the strange things that had happened to her that day.

Including this rabbit, she'll probably buy a pet too, a white one, but not a rabbit, because she doesn't like rabbits' long tails and red eyes.

Although red eyes are beautiful, like Momokawa's eyes, she always felt that a rabbit's long tail would be ugly, just like its cat ears.

Why are rabbit ears called cat ears?

Why do rabbits have cat ears?

No, that's not right...

rabbit?

What kind of rabbit?

"—"

Just like the rabbit in front of her, the rabbit in front of her.

Cute rabbit, red-eyed rabbit, long-tailed rabbit.

A white rabbit, a rabbit with a three-lobed mouth, a giant rabbit.

A rabbit with fangs, a rabbit with long, thin limbs, a rabbit that looks like a rabbit.

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.

Many rabbits, countless rabbits, countless dead rabbits, countless rabbits that are about to rot.

"—!"

The rabbit is there; it's under the lamp, in the light, outside the shadow; it's everywhere.

Within sight, outside sight, in memory, outside memory, in books, in photographs, in paintings, in songs.

Rabbits are everywhere, an endless stream of rabbits, one after another, rabbits that can never be killed.

"..."

How do rabbits make sounds?

Squeak? Meow? Woof?

What is a rabbit called again?

She couldn't remember the rabbit's squeak.

Is it like her? Just like her, like a human being.

Humans, humans.

What is humanity?

What is she?

rabbit?

rabbit.

She is a rabbit.

She remembered how a rabbit sounds; she knew how a rabbit sounds.

"—"

boom--!

"..."

Cold sweat trickled down her forehead, accompanied by a sense of relief and relief at surviving the ordeal, as well as a deep-seated fear.

She looked at her hands, at the pistol in her hand, and then at the rabbit lying on the ground under the streetlight in front of her.

A dead rabbit, pale, but stained red.

Its body had been dead for a long time and had begun to rot.

It was already dead, not from the weapon in her hand, but before that, before the bullet was fired.

No...that's not right.

Igris's hand holding the pistol was still trembling. She seemed unable to come to her senses or understand what had just happened.

But she still remembers, she has always remembered.

"Why…"

There were four bullets left in her gun, and those bullets were so special that they looked like toys.

They cannot penetrate flesh and blood, and can only cause some blunt force trauma. Although they can cause considerable damage to spirits, they are only effective against spirits.

She had already fired a shot before, during that commission, at the witch's house.

She didn't change the bullets; the gun still had the same number of bullets. She must have fired a shot, or maybe she didn't; the number of bullets wasn't less, but she heard a gunshot.

Perhaps it was because of that special ability that she was lucky, but it shouldn't be like that.

It shouldn't have died here.

The bullet couldn't penetrate its body, nor could it kill a rabbit that was already dead.

"—"

Strange, it's getting stranger and stranger. She saw bullet holes, heard gunshots, and was holding a gun.

It's as if she killed the rabbit, but she didn't.

Why does she care so much about this? Whoever killed the rabbit has nothing to do with her, right?

Yes, that's right.

But she had already squatted down.

Clang——

The sword blade was already drawn, easily slicing its corpse open completely.

A stench suddenly erupted, accompanied by rotting chunks of flesh, and even liquefied organs and viscera.

The putrid liquid remained on the ground, and she saw the wound and the bullet that had pierced its body.

An unfamiliar bullet.

That didn't belong to her, and she had never seen it before.

This is a special, rare, custom-made bullet.

There were words engraved on it, very small words, not talismans, just plain words.

She should recognize it, but she couldn't remember how to read it or what script it was.

Her memory had been tampered with, or perhaps that was the case; she couldn't think of any other possibility.

"..."

She wiped the bullet clean and put it in her pocket.

She genuinely believed she could live a happy and stable life.