Bailonz Street 13
Chapter 90:

The most bizarre event in my life began in 185×.

At the time, I was attending medical school. It seemed certain that I would live out the rest of my life as an ordinary doctor after graduation.

I cannot be sure if recording this is the right thing to do. However, I take up the pen as my final apology for staying silent about the dreadful deed I witnessed.

I don’t know how people will react after reading this, but I hope you all remain safe.

＊ ＊ ＊

It was during my final year of graduation.

A new student entered the school, causing quite a stir. He was enthralled by a peculiar theory and sought to persuade the professors and students that “life can be created.”

When I heard about this from someone else, I immediately realized that the “life” he referred to wasn’t the kind born from the blessing of two people.

It was an act of challenging divine authority. At the same time, it was an attempt to become a god himself.

I couldn’t believe it, so I asked again.

“That young man claims he can create life?”

My colleague explained.

“It’s just a theory. He babbles on about galvanism and long-forgotten ancient alchemy, and I think he’s mad. Trying to persuade the university with obsolete knowledge and theories! He must be possessed by a demon!”

He then rambled on about the young man’s bizarre obsession with death and resurrection.

I wanted to see the face of this young man with such extraordinary imagination.

Who could dare to challenge the rights of God?

Soon, I got the chance to meet the young man. He participated in our anatomy class.

＊ ＊ ＊

The young man had a pale face and a slender, thin body. When he walked, he looked like a black wooden puppet moving.

The professor seemed surprised by his unexpected appearance but, after asking a few anatomical questions, decided he could keep up with the class. What I saw next was something that couldn’t be described with a single word like “amazing.”

He knew exactly where every human organ was located and had memorized the structures from muscles to bones. My classmates and I were all astonished by the extensive knowledge this non-medical student possessed.

“The decomposition hasn’t progressed much yet.”

The young man made this comment and then began to dissect with great skill. A flush appeared on his pale cheeks, and his green eyes sparkled with passion.

As I watched the young man, I suddenly thought,

‘Is he truly trying to create life?’

When the class ended, the young man approached me first. From what I heard, he had obtained a degree from Ingolstadt before coming to England. His name had a distinctly German pronunciation. As he extended his hand to introduce himself, his voice was remarkably calm. He said,

“Senior, what would you do if humans could overcome death?”

I am embarrassed to admit my personal situation, but I lost my mother at a young age and my younger brother to a plague as I grew older.

Being left alone in the world, I developed an early disenchantment with death. What was the point of living energetically when humans all return to dust anyway? That was my mindset.

Yet, I was also ashamed to admit that if I could go back to my childhood, if there truly existed a devil who could return my family to me, I would gladly take its hand.

So, it might have been fate that led me to shake his hand.

From that moment, everything twisted.

＊ ＊ ＊

Around that time, a strange rumor was circulating among the students. It was a trivial tale about the dead rising from their graves.

I initially thought it was due to wild animals digging up shallowly buried bodies or the work of grave robbers. However, when the young man invited me to his “laboratory,” my perspective changed.

The culprit behind the grave robbings was none other than the young man.

He introduced his laboratory with a shy smile. A basement in a neat house, a giant iron door at the bottom of a long staircase—it seemed designed for soundproofing. When the door opened, I momentarily lost my ability to speak. Massive machinery, an iron bed, and numerous bubbling chemicals were inside.

The young man explained to me,

“The process of creating a body takes a long time.”

He added that, theoretically, connecting body parts could create a human.

The body on the experimental bed looked like that. It was the figure of a woman dressed in a white gown. The joints were stitched together with black surgical thread, but the work was very delicate.

‘He must have carefully collected young, uncorrupted parts.’

Looking at the intricately sewn body, I finally realised.

This was all madness. The determination to revive dried-up blood vessels could only be explained by insanity! Bones, muscles, ligaments, even organs and eyes, all from recently deceased bodies….

I said in horror,

“That’s not creating life; it’s reviving something existing!”

The young man frowned as if offended and said,

“Reviving the dead is the birth of new life, isn’t it?”

“Even so, stitching bodies together?”

“Just watch, Senior. The shadow of death over this will retreat, and a new human will open its eyes.”

He said this while injecting a substance instead of blood. A silver fluid flowed under the thin skin.

“My theory is this: if the activities of a body from which life has departed can be artificially continued, the human will live! By using a substance to replace blood, making the heart beat, and running an electric current through the body!”

The young man proudly bragged about making a stopped heart beat by injecting electricity.

While he was busy manipulating various devices, I felt a strong urge to flee. If this experiment truly succeeded, the terrifying and horrific anticipation sent shivers down my spine.

The young man kept turning a device resembling a ship’s wheel. With each turn, a buzzing sound started.

Sparks began to flicker in a metal spiral tube. The sparks flowed along the tube, connected by rubber wires to various parts of the body. Electricity! The limbs of the body twitched.

The light grew brighter until it finally went out with a pop, followed by a loud scream. Then came an enormous sobbing, like a wave.

The woman who had been a corpse on the bed was moving.

She flailed her limbs, screaming and sobbing, and the young man shouted loudly,

“Elizabeth! Elizabeth!”

“He’s coming! He’s coming! We must cover the windows! He killed me!”

Her beautiful face was smeared with terror and tears.

I sat on the floor, listening blankly to the woman’s cries.

Whatever his theory was, the young man hadn’t anticipated that the woman would have “intelligence.” He hurriedly asked,

“Look at me, Elizabeth! Do you feel any impulses? My dear, do you feel any terrible, devilish impulses burning in your heart?”

The woman, after sobbing for a while, answered,

“Nothing!”

＊ ＊ ＊

The experiment was a success. The woman walked upright, spoke, and was even rational.

We conversed throughout the night. Through this, I learned that the woman was the young man’s childhood friend and wife, and she had been brutally murdered by an assailant on their wedding night. The young man had come all the way to England (which he referred to as “Inglis”) to revive her!

“I once heard that a philosopher in England made an important discovery. Senior, I realised here that the theory was ‘electricity’! My research required artificial charging!”

At the same time, I learned about the monstrous, ugly demon chasing him.

The young man’s first experiment and initial creation were pursuing him and had cursed his family. It seemed this creature was cruel, cunning, and could shake people’s minds with a sly tongue.

The young man trembled with rage whenever he spoke of the demon.

“That demon that cursed me! I want to tear it apart! When I think of how it killed my poor brother and my only friend, I feel unbearable despair! Oh, why did I create it!”

“If you regret it so much, why did you repeat the experiment?”

The young man’s green eyes fixed on me. They were green with madness.

“Because I didn’t want to be left alone!”

We talked through the night.

When I woke up, the young man and his wife were gone, leaving only a letter behind. The laboratory was empty, and it was clear that no one else would know he existed.

I include the contents of his letter below.

[Dear Senior,

After you replace this letter, please run away. The monster will destroy everything associated with me and eventually come for me.

The moment you took my hand, I couldn’t help but remember a friend who once looked at the Danube River with a passionate and healthy heart. That friend is now buried under the earth in Geneva, but I saw the same light in your eyes. So I spoke to you.

If the devil has any mercy, it will leave you alone. We didn’t have an emotional exchange, and you were merely a spectator of this experiment.

I know well that the emotions you showed while watching my experiment were contempt and fear. I was foolish. You are nothing like my friend.

Thus, I leave this letter as my final apology for my foolish choice. Please forget everything.

To distract the demon, we are leaving. I won’t say where we are going.

Goodbye.]

The reason I now reveal this is as follows. I don’t know if the young man and his wife escaped safely, but sometimes, on dark nights, I feel eyes watching me.

Did the young man escape? Or was he already caught by the demon, and now it seeks to kill the last witness to silence me?

I don’t know if this story is truly over or still ongoing, but one thing is clear.

On dark nights when the moon doesn’t shine, there are eyes watching me.