Monsterholic, Vol. 3 by Ghost Mikawa and Rag Miwano

Author:Ghost Mikawa and Rag Miwano [Mikawa, Ghost and Miwano, Rag]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yen On
Published: 2025-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

“Yes. Beast Tech…”

Not speaking to anyone who was there.

“…was made for the purpose of atonement, and salvation.”

So said the ancient Mythic Beast, while thinking back on the events that caused it all.

During those times, it stank everywhere.

It was a global pandemic, the great plague that broke out, originating in Europe. Even after taking every possible countermeasure, like masking and hand sanitizing, it continued to rage on, causing countless people to become ill, leading to a breakdown of medical services.

Just about every family nursed people at home without knowing what they were doing.

The infected experienced a hardening of their skin. It became rough and chapped all over, stiffening up, and even the slightest movement would make it crack and bleed. This was followed by endless coughing, high fevers that never abated, bloody bowel discharge, and diarrhea: an array of every kind of suffering.

At the time, many citizens would launder clothing dirtied by their family member’s feces and wear it anyway. The smell of illness hung everywhere in crowded areas—at crosswalks, on public transportation, in every possible place.

“So here I am, seeing an old friend on her invitation…”

In the isolation ward of a certain general hospital in Kyoto city—

The faint scent of perfume wafted, drowning out the antiseptic and rotten smells.

“…to find she’s in quite a state… It’s been quite a while, Lady Witch.”

“Has it? The times you lived in were also fairly dire, weren’t they?”

“Your manners have improved since then. Even with the dead lying there, no old lady is stealing their hair.”

“Oh my. ‘Rashomon’?” A voice, chuckling.

Two figures in the intensive care unit spoke across the sterilized plastic screen that separated them.

One wore a pongee kimono like an ancient scholar. The attire clashed entirely with the modern hospital. This man wore a mask of non-woven fabric over his face that didn’t suit him at all.

He had a book in his hand that he closed with a snap. With a brand-new indigo cover, it was the first edition of a novel thought to be a classic. Even a hundred years since its publication, the binding looked like nothing other than new, giving a sense of contradiction in spacetime.

“And those clothes, too,” she said. “…You’ve done your best to fit with the times, haven’t you? It suits you very well.”

“A mere century it’s been, and yet a whole century, since the last time the door to the divine lands was opened. In just that time alone, how shocking it is…”

The other, on the opposite side of the sterile plastic, was a woman connected to countless life-extension devices and tubes. She wore an ordinary hospital gown. But the various tubes were connected into a black leather mask shaped like a bird’s beak—

“…how much you have changed the world. Wasn’t that going too far?”

“I have no words,” the Last Witch, in her plague doctor mask, answered curtly, but with regret in her tone. “Our conflict ruined the world. This was the result of our fear of the Second World War, the appearance of nukes, and the progress of technology.

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