People were gathered in front of Lucas’s building.
Of course, there weren’t many of them.
Just exactly 5 people.
Moreover, their appearance was nothing spectacular.
They looked like they shopped at a supermarket, with shabby looks to match.
They were just like any ordinary folks you’d see on the street.
However, there were two peculiar things about them.
One was the signs they were holding.
It seemed they were protesting, as they held up signs with various writings.
Some had signs hanging like a sandwich man, some had theirs strapped to their bags, others brandished them on tall poles, and some planted their signs in front of flowerbeds while shouting loudly. One even held a small hand sign.
Though this was a typical sight among protesters—
It was definitely strange for just five people to each hold up a sign.
And there was another unusual aspect about them.
Madness sparkled in their eyes.
It was the kind that one would expect from fanatical cultists.
“Lucas, liberate the sheep!”
“We have come to reveal everything!”
“Lucas, immediately free the sheep and make reparations!”
“Liberty!”
“Liberty!”
They were yelling loudly in front of the building.
One might think it’s amazing that their voices didn’t crack, given how large and passionate they were.
However, what they were demanding was bafflingly vague.
Instead of specific names or identities of victims, they used the ambiguous term ‘sheep.’
Using such a term makes it impossible to tell whether it refers to a hint of something, a person’s name, an organization, or even real animals.
Moreover, protests serve not only to pressure the parties involved but also to notify the general public.
Considering that aspect… it was hard to view what they were doing as a proper protest.
In fact, passersby looking at them did not think these were truly victims of Lucas.
The stories were widely known about how Lucas had dealings with the Animal Protection Association or organizations, and thus… people simply thought, “Another bunch of weirdos bothering Lucas.”
Probably, they thought of them as a group of psychopaths, conspiracy theorists, cultists, or attention seekers trying to bring up issues.
Thus, people looked at those five and thought, “What strange individuals.”
Of course, that was from the perspective of outsiders…
Lucas, the person being accused, felt it differently.
“What are these fools doing?”
As the target of their blame, Lucas couldn’t help but pay attention to them.
But while he was paying attention…
“What’s up with ‘sheep’ and ‘liberate’?”
…The problem was, he couldn’t fathom what they were talking about.
Sheep?
Liberate?
What kind of nonsense is this?
“I don’t keep pets…?”
Lucas was a human obsessed with money and safety, who hadn’t even started a family.
Would someone like him have pets?
Of course not!
Not just no dogs or cats that people commonly keep, he didn’t have even a small hamster or bird.
And now, they mention sheep?
Why on earth is that name of a farm animal coming from those people?
And liberate?
If anyone heard that, they’d think he was locking up sheep and abusing them.
‘What the hell are they doing? Do they even know I had trouble because of some birds and are here to make fun of me? A competitor’s trap? Is someone scheming to draw me into a messy situation with the Animal Protection Association again, making me suffer and stress out?’
Lucas felt dizzy.
“Damn. Wall Street has gone mad, and now even psychos are crawling about.”
Just when he thought he’d relieved a big problem, these weirdos suddenly showed up.
He felt like he was struck from behind, making it even harder to regain his focus.
“Liberty! Liberty!”
“Free the sheep!”
Sheep.
Sheep…
What’s with the sheep?
“Free the sheep!”
“Lucas, who has exploited the sheep to amass wealth, repent!”
What does freeing sheep even mean?
Exploitation? Repent?
The more Lucas listened, the more he felt like he himself was going crazy, frowning deeply.
“There are really too many lunatics in this country…”
Lucas sighed deeply and put on his wireless earbuds.
Hoping the noise-canceling feature would drown out their voices.
And at the same moment.
Someone outside was muttering similar sentiments to Lucas.
“Really, this country is overflowing with crazy people….”
A grunt accompanied that muttering.
It escaped as a small sound, dissipating into the air and fading away without reaching anyone’s ears in that alley.
“…Hah.”
At the same moment as Lucas, a man echoed similar words.
A man who looked like a homeless person.
He reeked of alcohol and bad odor, with an unkempt beard covering his face. His dirty face, drizzled with grime, exuded disgust, and his long nails appeared unkempt and broken.
But his eyes.
His eyes shone with a wild light.
Even with the stench of alcohol wafting off him, it seemed impossible he could possess normal eyes.
Even when he should’ve passed out, buried deep in inebriation.
“Sheep… exploitation… liberation… I can smell the scent of heresy….”
How could someone with this strong smell of alcohol possibly have steady eyes?
Was it because he was so strong that alcohol didn’t make him drunk?
Was it because he drank without leaving a trace?
Or perhaps… he didn’t drink at all, instead masking the smell by dousing himself in it?
The man, reeking of alcohol, widened his senses and scanned the building.
There were numerous presences detectable from the building.
Among them, Lucas was surely there.
‘Lucas. With the shaman gone, your end is near now.’
The man muttered to himself, lowering his head.
Swallowing the cold killing intent within.
Confident that his opportunity to fulfill his objective would soon arrive.
‘If everything goes as planned, you will meet your end…’
People and groups gathered.
It felt as if Lucas’s building was an enticing delicacy teeming with delightful aromas.
A snack that one simply couldn’t help but chew to digest.
The moment the obstacle known as the shaman vanished, four forces began observing the building.
It looked as if beasts were arrayed in a standoff, all aiming for a single prey.
In that balance, it seemed Lucas could enjoy an unstable peace.
If, of course, no one took actual action.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Fight———–!!!!!!!!
A massive resonance.
The drums were pounding like a truck shaking the air.
A sound so immense it seems like it tore through the throat.
Just listening made the heart pound with bass!
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
It was a vehicle any man would have to love.
Inside the driver’s seat of the truck, a man was absorbed in the music.
I’m not a slave to a god—!!!
that doesn’t exist!!!!!!!!
The man was jamming out—his heart thumping like a drum, his brain shaking wildly, feeling transported to a paradise of genuinely ludicrously—Fucking great music.
He threw punches at the air as if he couldn’t restrain the energy, slamming the steering wheel as if to respond to the music, producing a thunderous noise.
Then, getting hot-headed, he’d roll down the window to feel the breeze, and whenever he realized the wind wasn’t cooling him off, he’d step on the accelerator.
More.
More.
More!!!
Just a little on the accelerator.
No, slam that accelerator down!
No, that’s not enough.
Harder!
Harder!!!
As if the accelerator would break!
Harder!
As the music said!
Fight!
Fight!
Like he was in a battle!
All the boiling exhilaration within him poured out into the acceleration, acceleration, acceleration!
Accelerate!
“Fight-!”
“Fight!”
The truck accelerated.
The volume rose.
Fight, Fight-!
The sound blasting from the speakers swelled, echoing in his ears, in his head, vibrating his body!
Vibrating his body, shaking the seat, music spreading throughout the truck, sound reflecting and amplifying!
Right now, this moment!
The man and the truck became one!
One body!
Yes, he was now one with that massive truck that any man would have to love!!!!!!!
“Yes!!! Yes—–!!!!!”
Was that the sound of his heartbeat he heard?
Or the incredible music blaring from the speakers?
Or was it the sound of the bus engine?
He didn’t know!
He didn’t want to know!
No, if it were all his, then—
Right now, he was no different from Jesus!
Was there anything other than the Trinity?
This is precisely the Trinity!
“Rock is the gospel of God, so it’s not strange for me to call myself Jesus!”
The Trinity!
Oh, with the engine, rock, and passion!
Amen!
