Episode 4. The Human Tailor
by Outsider ยท 2026-11-02
A low, cracked voice escaped Relton's lips. It was a month ago. The 26th Moros hunt expedition, where twenty went out and only four crawled back alive. Guilt over leaving his comrades' bodies in the forest, mixed with the relief of still being alive, led him to strong liquor and hallucinogens he wouldn't normally touch. Under the sticky lights of a lower-district bar, she approached him first. She had a moderately striking beauty, was talkative, and acted unusually friendly towards a hunter whose scent of blood hadn't quite faded. It was common for women to approach hunters, eyeing their wallets in a world where a life's worth was money.
The problem was the next morning. Despite not being a light drinker, his head throbbed as if it would split, and after opening his eyes, his limbs were so paralyzed he couldn't move a finger for hours. Something must have been mixed into his drink or the vial she offered. However, his wallet by the bedside and his expensive longsword were still there. Since he hadn't lost anything, he just dismissed it as a bad reaction to some potent, illicit drug.
But now, a month later, the consequences were manifesting in an unexpected way. Relton held up his hand under the fluorescent light of the examination room. The calluses on his knuckles, hardened from gripping a sword hilt for over ten years, had faded, and his entire fingers had become unpleasantly slender and smooth.
Dr. Ed: Alis Benna.
Dr. Ed muttered softly, looking at the base sequence waveform on the monitor. Relton snapped his head up.
Relton: What?
Dr. Ed: That is, if the woman you met used her real name.
Ed pushed up his magnifying glasses and spun his swivel chair around.
Relton: Do you know the name?
Dr. Ed: She's a famous woman in this field. She's one of those dirty names that you hear even if you don't want to.
Relton roughly pulled an empty metal chair and sat on it backward.
Relton: Spill everything you know.
Dr. Ed: Don't speak in a commanding tone.
Relton: Then I'll politely ask. Tell me quickly.
Dr. Ed: Why do the eyes of the person asking look like they want to kill someone?
Ed clicked his tongue and waved his hand. Then he turned off the screen of the analyzer he was working on and looked directly at Relton.
Dr. Ed: Not all genetic procedures performed at Bellatrix are the same. Curing diseased organs or strengthening mercenaries' muscles are the bright side of things, but there are underground practitioners who will remodel a person's skin, insides, or mind however you want, as long as you pay. Alis Venna is the most notorious woman in that field.
Relton: What do you mean by changing a person? Isn't that what genetic enhancers are for?
Dr. Ed: The problem is that it's not just about strengthening arm muscles or changing eye color.
Ed paused, pursing his lips as if choosing his words, then continued.
Dr. Ed: They mold you into an entirely different creature to suit the client's taste. Height, skin texture, skeletal structure, muscle mass, and... even gender if necessary.
The air in the examination room grew chillingly cold.
Ed cleared his throat unnecessarily and avoided eye contact.
Silence fell. Blue veins bulged on Relton's temples.
Relton: What crazy bastard gave her such a disgusting nickname?
Dr. Ed: Is the nickname the problem right now?
Relton: It is to me. Because I'm furious that I was played by a woman with such a dirty name.
Relton unconsciously looked down at his chest. It wasn't noticeable through his clothes yet, but he knew better than anyone that the muscles inside were wasting away and the shape of his flesh was subtly changing.
Ed turned the monitor back on and displayed the red blinking numbers over the human body graphic.
Dr. Ed: The real problem starts now, Relton. The changes in your body aren't stopping.
Relton: I only took the medicine once, a month ago.
Dr. Ed: That's why it's bizarre. Typical genetic drugs break down in the body and stop working after a certain period of administration. Either the intended mutation completes, or cells necrotize as a side effect. But inside your body... there's a kind of continuous command code remaining.
Ed's finger pointed at the constantly reassembling DNA sequence simulation.
Dr. Ed: Each and every cell is continuously altering its self-replication direction according to a predetermined blueprint.
Relton: How far does it change?
Ed fell silent.
Relton: Ed. I asked what the end was.
Dr. Ed: ...Until you become a complete woman.
Only the dull hum of the ventilation system filled the examination room.
Relton: Just my face and physique?
Dr. Ed: No. Everything, including your skeleton, hormones, and internal reproductive organs. To the very end you're thinking of.
Raelton leaned back against the chair, looking up at the ceiling. For a long time, no words came out. As he closed his eyes, the voice of the woman who had smiled languidly while handing him a drink a month ago vividly echoed in his ears.
At the time, he thought it was a common flirtation from a bar girl. But looking back now, it was the smile a hunter makes when their prey falls into a trap.
Raelton: Can it be reversed?
Dr. Ed: I might be able to create an inhibitor to slow down the progression. But forcibly reversing the direction of gene expression that has already begun to reorganize is...
Raelton: Is it possible, or impossible?
Dr. Ed: That means I don't know!
Ed's voice rose sharply.
Dr. Ed: I've never seen such a precise forced trait conversion code in my life. If I clumsily inject a reverse-engineered drug here, your entire gene chain could collapse, and the mutation could run wild.
At the word "run wild," Raelton's eyes grew cold.
Raelton: Does that mean I'll become a Moros?
Ed couldn't deny it. His silence was clearer than any answer.
Raelton slowly rose from his seat, picked up the longsword leaning against the wall, and fastened it to his waist.
Dr. Ed: Where are you going?
Raelton: To find that bitch. I'll catch the one who made it and make her turn me back to normal herself.
Dr. Ed: How do you expect to find a woman who could be hiding anywhere in this vast Bellatrix? Besides, she's definitely not a small fry acting alone. To create a gene manipulation drug of this level means she has massive research facilities and funding backing her.
Relton: Give me the clues you know. You've been hiding something since earlier.
As Relton turned, his hand on the hilt of his sword, Ed sighed in exasperation and pulled a small brown vial and a note from his desk drawer, tossing them over.
Relton snatched the vial with one hand.
Relton: What is this?
Dr. Ed: It's a temporary suppressant. Take it only once a day. If you take it two or three times because you're in a hurry, your heart will stop first.
Relton shoved the vial into his coat pocket and unfolded the note. It contained an address in the lower southern district and the name 'Bran'.
Dr. Ed: He's a broker who illegally distributes genetic drugs. There were rumors a few years ago that he stole and sold early-stage drugs made by Venna, so if we shake him up, we might be able to get a lead on her.
Relton: You should have given it to me sooner.
Relton crumpled the note and opened the examination room door.
Dr. Ed: If you experience any more strange symptoms, don't be foolish, come straight back, Relton.
Relton: It's already strange enough.
As Relton was about to close the door and leave, Ed's low murmur drifted from behind him.
Dr. Ed: Why did you do something you don't normally do and follow just any woman...
Creak.
The closing iron door reopened, and Relton's cold eyes peered through the gap.
Bang!
The iron door slammed shut. Alone in the examination room, Dr. Ed stared at the firmly closed door for a long time with dark eyes.
Outside, a dark red sunset was settling over the drab cityscape of Bellatrix.
Relton unconsciously clenched and unclenched his right hand as he walked down the darkening street. He had the illusion that his finger joints were even thinner than when he woke up in the morning. His hand, forearm, shoulder, and even the sensation of his pelvis swaying with each step, all grated on his nerves.
Just then, a woman with long black hair flowing down her back brushed past him in the crowd on the opposite street.
A back view similar to that woman a month ago.
Relton's eyes instantly turned fierce.
Relton: Alice!
Relton roughly pushed aside pedestrians, ran across the road, and strongly grabbed the woman's shoulder from behind.
The woman's face, as she turned around in surprise, was that of a complete stranger.
Relton slowly removed his hand from her shoulder, his face grim.
Relton: ...Sorry.
Pedestrian Woman: Isn't this guy crazy? How unlucky!
The woman cursed and disappeared into the crowd as if fleeing.
Relton, standing stiffly at the border of the road and sidewalk, ground his teeth. A month ago, she was just a one-night stand whose name he hadn't even bothered to remember. But now, every woman of similar build passing by on the street began to look like her apparition.
Beyond the commotion they exchanged, the lens of an old security camera mounted atop a utility pole at the street corner rotated with a faint mechanical hum. A red focus, unnoticed by anyone, silently followed the narrowed shoulders of Relton, standing in the middle of the crowd.
Relton touched the bottle of suppressants in his pocket once, then quickened his pace toward a dark alley in the southern district.