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–Balot, stay conscious. This is all virtual reality.

Balot nodded in her own mind and started to strip the first memory of all excess information, peeling away the fat. She realized that more and more information was welling up in its place. Memories of sounds, light, pain. Memories of anger, pleasure, conversations. These emotions cut across the scene and the motives and intentions of the feeler started to form distinct, tangible shapes.

“Excellent! We’re starting to establish concrete proof of Shell’s emotional state…”

It was the Doctor, speaking from somewhere. It was the last thing Balot heard from the real world. Instead, fragments of information that had been submerged in the morass of the dark abyss were now bubbling up and assaulting all of Balot’s senses, penetrating through her skin.

–You need to organize all this information into some kind of system, Balot. At the moment, none of it makes sense. Return to the starting place and try again.

Suddenly the cityscape of Mardock City unfolded before her eyes again. First office blocks at noon, then the dark shantytowns of the slums, then a casino kiosk, a place to hold business transactions with persons unknown.

Memories of the sweet rush of success that accompanied the first ride in the AirCar. A number of girls were plucked from the pool of memory and held in front of her, appearing one by one in front of her eyes.

The girls were standing on a bridge, silent, eyes closed. Wind blowing in from the sea. The shadow underfoot crept and then rushed in, and night fell. Eventually each of the memories fell into place, and the girls opened their eyes.

The girls all had Blue Diamonds for eyes. Balot shrieked in surprise.

One of the girls started walking backward across the bridge, as if she were in a movie and somebody had pressed the rewind button.

Balot followed after her. When she arrived at the bridge she saw the bright lights of the city on the other side. A casino shone out like a beacon of light, and all around it tall buildings, houses, garages, all engraved with the symbol of OctoberCorp.

A new image floated up: brain surgery. A young boy on the operating table. The girl that Balot had been chasing was now walking around the table in circles. The girl’s mouth popped open and from it spewed forth the grating sound of a saw against a skull bone. Something was removed, something was transplanted in its place. Of course, the chip inside the brain was also firmly engraved with the ubiquitous OctoberCorp symbol. The reason I chose this casino to hold my Shows? Doesn’t a salmon return upstream in order to spawn?

“There’s nowhere I want to return home to,” said the girl, over the sound of the cranial saw. “But I wish I had someplace that I wanted to return home to.”

“Leave it to me. Come home with me.”

Then the girl died of an overdose.

That’s a lie, cried the world. A lethal dose of drugs would have been wasted on her. Death by narcotic misadventure? Merely a pretext, a facade for the public. He had just strangled her as she slept. This was the last time he would strangle anyone to death. Too much hassle, too much to tidy up afterwards. His headaches just got worse and worse.

Stress. He needed something that gave him absolute, total euphoria. Heroic Pills were perfect.

You walk the path of unhappiness. That’s right. A vision of a large man. Something bad will happen all around you before too long. Trouble. That’s what the man said. If Mardock Scramble 09 is called, I’ll have far greater jurisdiction than any public organization. The ultimate bodyguard.

–Boiled must have known that the Doctor and I were on Shell’s tail. That’s why he arranged to be in Shell’s employ just before the case started. These memories are from around that time…

Psychelaundering. In order to understand my business practices, you have to understand me first. Look at these Blue Diamonds. They’re my business credentials. Seven in total. Apparently, six lives have been forfeited so far. I tried to help the girls. I tried to save them. I want to know why I’m so frightened all the time.

“Why am I so frightened?”

–Balot, stay focused on your own consciousness! You’re not actually experiencing Shell’s feelings yourself!

I killed one with a gun, but that wasn’t very satisfying. It left a bad taste in my mouth. Guns are no good. I’ll have to find another method. Memories—even when they’re gone, they still affect my mind. I need to find a way to kill her while keeping my distance. And also be able to recover her remains safely. I’ll trigger an explosion.

I’ll use the insurance on my AirCar. Pin the blame on the girl. Make out that it was her own fault.

“Never doubt. It’s the road to ruin.”

–No, Balot. Those are your own memories. Let’s try and work through this chronologically. Begin once more.

The third girl was an accident. So called. The brakes were tampered with.

“A moving car is no good. It confuses my memory. Memories—even when they’re gone, they still affect my mind.”

He’d fixed the brakes of the car, but as a result he’d been forced to look at the spectacle of her corpse, hideously deformed. She’d been traveling at 120 kilometers an hour. It would have been different had she just turned straight into ash.

Memories disappeared, but it was always a hassle arranging permits for cremations. Burial was far more common in this city, after all.

“I’ve thought of all sorts of ways to launder money.”

I knew all about it. There were voices—two girls. A surge of empathy welled up inside him.

“Don’t make me see my father again, please. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t force me to see him again.”

“Don’t you worry, my little one. I’ll look after you. I know all about it. How much you’ve suffered.”

Stress. It’s what destroys my memories. So why not do it thoroughly? I know how. I’m going to use my stress to obliterate all traces of my memories of you. Everything’s bright red. Stabbing her to death—stupid even by my own standards. Blood everywhere. The cleanup afterward—I want the Blue Diamond. Its sparkle makes everything clean, washes everything away. I must have flipped out. I killed her before I even knew what I was doing.

The memory breakdown happened right after that. Just at the time I’d failed in an attempt to launder money, but my stress was alleviated and everything was all right again. Business was booming, and my stock was rising. The secret of my success.

Having said that, it’s not as if I even remember everything that happened back then.

“In order to understand my business practices, you need to understand me first.”

–We need to establish whether that memory is a real one. Shell could have been watching a movie or something. We need to know for sure whether it’s actually Shell…

The first one I killed? To me, each girl is always the first one I killed. My memories disappear, after all.

Nobody knows, and nobody will ever know. My memories will vanish entirely. I know how to clean myself up. Maybe they’ll trust me to clean their money up too.

A surge of empathy welled up inside him. The intricate fragments of memories swirled around like cards at a gaming table.

–Your sense of time is being affected, Balot. It’s already been seven whole hours since we started this operation.