Dogra Magra (23/47)

by Hisashi Yumeno

First, he plunged a scalpel into the rim of the right eye, and as if performing a toxicological test unique to the doctor, he gouged out both eyes completely. However, without examining the fundus as usual, he simply pushed them back into their original sockets. Next, he roughly cut through the middle of the nasal bridge until the mucous membrane deep inside was visible. Then, he slit both corners of the lips almost to the ears, and peeled back the lower jaw until the pharynx was exposed.

The corpse's face was thus deformed beyond human recognition, but the giant in black meticulously sewed each part back together. Without a moment's rest, he picked up gauze and sponges, soaked them generously in alcohol, and carefully wiped away the soiled areas, completing a strangely altered corpse, unrecognizable from its previous state.

The doctor in black finally took a breath here, repeatedly comparing the bodies of the two girls lying above and below the dissecting table. In due course, he removed his double gloves, and dissolving the solid white powder on a nearby desk with his palm, he began to apply makeup to the face, both shoulders, both arms, and the entire lower body of girl number 414, being careful not to spill a single drop.

Look at his technique. The delicate movement of his fingers, ensuring no white powder remained on the coarse stitches or the hairline, was as if he were accustomed to handling this cosmetic. Perhaps it was because this doctor had experience disguising himself many times. Or perhaps, his perverse hobby stemming from his hidden personality, combined with his forensic research interests, had elevated to the bizarre hobby of "mummy makeup" from thousands of years ago.

In any case, the skill with which he concealed the bluish-black or brownish discolored bruises from the fatal abuse with polishing powder, smoothed out the skin's wrinkles and bandage marks, and applied white powder was truly astonishing. He might have learned these methods of concealment from the prostitutes in the pleasure quarters. Finally, he beautifully painted the black, scarred skin of the girl to a degree where it was indistinguishable from the color of a white girl's skin. Afterwards, he successively took out lipstick, rouge, eyebrow pencil, and white powder, reproducing the subtle color variations on various parts of the body, and even staining every single mole, large and small, exactly as on the model. He also skillfully dyed all the body hair, comparing it with the girl on the floor, to a degree that even a barber could not achieve, and applied perfumed oil.

Then, he opened a drawer in a nearby desk, took red, blue, purple, and other aniline dyes for microscopic examination onto a plum-blossom-shaped palette, and, mixing them with a new brush, began to dye the strangulation marks around the neck to the exact color and shape of the real thing. This, too, was incredibly clever and precise; raised, worm-like welts and lizard-like blood spots quickly encircled the neck.

However, the mysterious work of the black-clad doctor seemed to be far from over. He hastily put his double gloves back on and took out a packet of bandages from under the desk. With these bandages, he wrapped the made-up corpse's face and head completely in white. Then, he proceeded to wrap the entire body in sequence—neck, shoulders, upper arms, chest, abdomen, and both legs—until it resembled a botched mummy or a teru teru bozu doll made by a child.

Next, he stripped off the beautiful girl's flashy underwear as she lay in the coffin, dressed her in white cloth, and tightly wrapped a scarlet kanoko-shibori obi over it. The strangeness and comicality of this sight, and the solemn, eerie presence of the black-clad doctor looking down upon it, was like a scene from another world.

However, the teru teru bozu's corpse still had its rough, chapped hands, with their prominent knuckles, sticking out. As I watched, wondering how he would hide them, the unparalleled eccentric, the Doctor in Black, effortlessly bent the elbows of both arms, clasped them together, and firmly bound them with white cotton. Thinking, "Indeed, this will do," I then saw him forcibly stuff the equally unhideable, cracked heels of the feet into the small tabi socks of the beautiful girl, fastening the kohaze securely.

Then, he finally lifted the white cloth, which held the stiff, alluring form, and gently lowered it into the coffin. After dressing it in a three-layered furisode and a hanten, worn inside out, and wrapping it with an embroidered silk obi, he then thoroughly cleaned the dissection table from corner to corner with a large amount of sponge, hot water, cold water, soap, and alcohol. Afterwards, he gently lifted the beautiful girl's naked body, which was beginning to regain consciousness, firmly placed the thick coffin lid, which had been underneath, over the teru teru bozu, and wrapped it with a white silk cloth.

However, the Doctor in Black's eerie work was not yet finished. This time, his true, monstrous undertaking was about to be revealed.

The giant in black stood between the coffin and the dissection table, his shoulders trembling as he took a breath. He quickly tore off his gloves and picked up a pair of scissors. Parting the long hair of the girl lying on the dissection table, he cut off a lock from the center. He wrapped it in rice paper and placed it alongside the corpse register, next to the autopsy report and stationery.

He pulled over an iron circular chair, took a new brush, and dipped it in ink. Then, he carefully wrote "遺髪" (relic hair) and "Ms. Kure Moyoko" on the wrapped rice paper. He stared at the clock for a while, appearing to be deep in thought, but perhaps deciding to postpone filling out the autopsy report, he gently pushed it aside. He opened the corpse register and carefully tore out the sheet marked "No. 414...7" near the center, along with the other entries.

Next, he dissolved India ink in another dish, creating various shades of ink, and then, using the same brushstrokes as the torn page, he wrote down names, dates, and numbers for over a dozen corpses. However, he skipped all entries related to "No. 414...7" and instead filled in the details for "No. 423...4," stamping each one with the seal "Wakabayashi." In this way, the entry for the disguised corpse of the girl, who had just been placed in the coffin, was completely erased from this corpse ledger.

By now, you must clearly understand what Dr. Wakabayashi's painstaking and bizarre undertaking meant. The substitute placed in the coffin for the beautiful girl, Wu Moyoko, was originally the massacred corpse of a girl with no relatives and an unknown whereabouts, and it was easy to surmise that no one would come to claim the remains unless a notification was sent from their side.

On the other hand, for individuals dissected within the university, their relatives are usually notified to come and collect the remains the very next day. However, in reality, as soon as the dissection is complete, a worker from the university's private crematorium in the pine grove behind the building comes to collect the body, and it is cremated without any witnesses. Only the ashes and the preserved hair are handed over to those who come to collect them, a system completely different from general cremation. Therefore, there is virtually no chance of the body substitution being discovered.</S16>Of course, the possibility of a parent demanding to see the deceased's face again before cremation cannot be ruled out. However, even if such a situation were to occur, if they were shown a face that had been horribly stitched up, it is unlikely that the family member would want to see it again.

Of course, the possibility of a parent demanding to see the deceased's face again before cremation cannot be ruled out. However, even if such a situation were to occur, if they were shown a face that had been horribly stitched up, it is unlikely that the family member would want to see it again.

The only concern is if officials or doctors come to inspect, just in case. However, would they be able to see through a substitute so cleverly and meticulously prepared? In any case, Dr. Wakabayashi is a person renowned throughout the land for his character and reputation, and he used his authority as the Dean of Kyushu University's Faculty of Medicine to complete the work with excessive thoroughness, so no one would harbor any doubts.

Around the time the incident of the missing corpse from Kyushu University's morgue was being buried in eternal darkness, leaving only one doctor besides Dr. Wakabayashi with suspicion, the massacred body of the missing girl had already turned into a piece of white bone, interred beneath a magnificent tomb, with flowers and incense offered to it.

At the same time, the beautiful girl named Wu Moyoko, who was regaining her breath on the dissection table, became a living ghost erased from the family register, held in the hands of the pale, tall Dr. Wakabayashi, and breathing. However, what good would that do later, and for what purpose did Dr. Wakabayashi turn this girl into a living ghost? The explanation is a pleasure for later, but in fact, even Dr. Masaki, who was peeking from the ceiling at this time, had no idea. Perhaps, you all feel the same way.

However, at the same time, I believe there is considerable anticipation regarding the content of the case that Dr. Kyotaro Wakabayashi, lauded as a labyrinth-breaker in newspapers, is tackling with such painstaking effort and extraordinary tricks, and how bizarre and incomprehensible the mind of the culprit must be. And it will not be long before the astonishing content of this case and its process, which will not betray this anticipation, unfolds before you in due course.

In other words, the case has already fallen into the hands of the mysterious dark figure in the autopsy room of Kyushu University's forensic medicine department, Dr. Wakabayashi. And the doctor is now concentrating his generation's intellect and energy, preparing for battle against the mysterious figure behind the scenes who caused this strange incident.

Having thus finished altering the corpse ledger, Dr. Wakabayashi carelessly tossed it onto the desk along with a blank autopsy report. He rose his exhausted body, picked up every last piece of gauze, sponge, and absorbent cotton scattered around the room, wrapped them in a new bleached cloth with stationery and cosmetics, and tied them tightly with bandages. He was probably planning to secretly dispose of them somewhere and keep tonight's work a secret. It is conceivable that his decision not to take samples from various parts of corpse number 414 also stemmed from this idea.

After finishing his work, Dr. Wakabayashi looked around again. He then picked up the new nurse's uniform and white cotton kimono that were placed nearby and approached the dissection table to dress the girl, who was still under anesthesia. However, he involuntarily stopped. He almost dropped what he was holding and staggered backward.

He was astonished by the beauty that resided throughout the girl's body. A pure light of life, completely different from when she was in a state of suspended animation, seemed to illuminate her entire body. Her cheeks and lips had returned to the warm color of blood, like fragrant flower petals or sweet jelly. In particular, her lovely shaped breasts, like large shells born from a mystical land, swelled with a vibrant rosy hue, stirring a dreamlike heart under the brilliant light.

On the cold, imposing marble of the Kyushu University School of Medicine's dissection room lay the anesthetized form of an unparalleled beautiful girl, whom he would likely never see again. The rich breathing that undulated in her pure chest was enough to make anything on earth prostrate itself.

As if intoxicated by the scent of her breath, Dr. Wakabayashi staggered back to his feet. He then began to feel a faint gasp, resonating with the girl's breathing, on his black shoulder. Leaning his upper body slightly forward, with weakly trembling fingertips, he pushed the black cloth covering her face up onto her forehead.

He was speechless at the intensity of her expression. Her long face, appearing under the incandescent light, was, in stark contrast to the girl on the dissecting table, exhausted like a dead person, and wet with pale sweat. In her eyes, extreme weakness and excitement mingled, bloodshot and shining like a fever patient. On her lips, a scarlet color, not seen in ordinary people, was pathologically dry. Her expression made her black hair cling to her forehead, and her temples seemed to throb.

He remained motionless for a while. He had no idea what he was thinking or what he was about to do.

Then, suddenly, a deep wrinkle etched itself below his right eye and began to twitch. The twitch spread across his entire face, and in his pale complexion, his red eyes alternately opened and closed, making it impossible to tell if he was crying or laughing. As if rejoicing in something, his scarlet, dry lips opened wide like a wolf's, and his yellowish-white tongue hung limply. It was the face of a different person, one that those who knew the usually dignified Dr. Wakabayashi could never have imagined even in a dream—a demonic visage that appeared only when he was alone.

However, he slowly raised his face. He pushed back the disheveled hair from his dry forehead with both hands and directed his pale eyes towards the four light bulbs shining above.

The girl's breathing began to grow increasingly ragged again. An unusual redness started to appear on her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes as if speaking to something in the air, laughing in broken bursts with a low, eerie sound from deep within her stomach.

"...Aha...Aha...Ahahaha..."

Eventually, he bit his lip, looked down at the sleeping face of the beautiful girl, raised a trembling finger, and switched off the light bulbs above his head one, two, three, and finally, with a snap, extinguished the fourth one.

However, the room did not return to its original darkness. Through the gaps in the closed windows, the light of dawn streamed in, making everything in the room appear translucently blue, as if at the bottom of the sea.

He stared blankly at the light, but then, with trembling fingers, pressed his hands to his face. He swayed backward unsteadily, hitting the wall. He then slumped to the floor, dropping his hands as if unconscious, his legs sprawled out, and his head hung limply.

At that moment, the lips of the girl on the dissecting table began to move faintly. A faint, dreamlike voice escaped.

“...Brother...where are you...”

【Subtitle】Press conference by Doctors Masaki and Wakabayashi.

Next to be shown was Dr. Masaki dozing in the professor's office of the Kyushu Imperial University Department of Psychiatry. The time was May 2nd, Taisho 15, exactly one week after the scene of Dr. Wakabayashi's body being swapped was captured in the previous film, on a clear afternoon. Through the three windows of the professor's office, the vibrant green of pine trees, bathed in strong sunlight, shimmered dazzlingly, and the already oppressive sound of cicadas could be heard. In each of the windows lining the south side, a clear May sky, like a gofun painting, stretched out, and the bright wind blowing beneath it carried the sounds of construction from the open-air treatment facility under construction.

Dr. Masaki, seated in a huge armchair swivel chair between the large desk and the large fireplace, had a half-smoked cigar between the fingers of his right hand in his white medical coat, and held the day's newspaper in his left hand, dozing off with his pince-nez still on. On the back of the newspaper he had been reading, a large headline read, "Bride Killer Case Enters Labyrinth." At that moment, the electric clock above the large fireplace clicked, indicating 3:03, and a forty-something attendant in a university uniform entered with a business card. He respectfully presented the business card to Dr. Masaki.

Dr. Masaki, awakened by the sound of the door closing, took the business card and glanced at it, apparently narrowing his eyes in displeasure.

"What, he's such a blockhead he doesn't understand no matter how many times I tell him. There's a limit to being overly polite. Tell him he doesn't need to bring these things one by one, just come in without a word."

He tossed the business card onto the large table, closed his eyes with an air of importance, and drifted off to sleep again.

At that moment, Dr. Wakabayashi, carefully holding a blue merino cloth wrapping, quietly entered the room wearing a long frock coat. He sat down in a small swivel chair facing Dr. Masaki. The sight of the diminutive Dr. Masaki shrinking in his large chair, while the colossal Dr. Wakabayashi sat respectfully in a small chair, was like a perfect comic strip panel. Soon, Dr. Wakabayashi, troubled by his chronic cough, began to suffer, coughing and clearing his throat with a white handkerchief pressed to his mouth.

Dr. Masaki seemed to finally awaken from the commotion, tossing his newspaper and cigar into the air, staring at Dr. Wakabayashi in front of him, and then letting out a huge yawn that seemed to swallow this room, Kyushu University, and even himself.

Thus, the first conversation between the two doctors after the incident began with this great yawn. On the surface, there seemed to be no animosity, but beneath it, one could sense a fierce exchange of sharp sarcasm, each trying to threaten the other as seriously as possible. You can all probably guess how large and deep the dark current lurking behind this incident was.

"Ah... ah. You've finally arrived. Hahaha, I thought it was about time you came."

"Hmph... So, you already know the details of the incident, then."

"I know, it's this, isn't it... 'Bride Murder Enters Labyrinth'... Of course, the article probably contains a lot of unnecessary details."

"Is that so... But how did you know that I am involved in this case?"

“The other day, when I called you, I was told that you had canceled your afternoon lecture and flown off somewhere in your car, so I figured something was up. And then, that evening, the special edition of the newspaper came out with an article titled ‘Bride Strangled on Eve of Wedding,’ so I guessed you were involved in this case.”

“I see. But how did you know I would be coming here today?”

“Well, I thought you’d come today or sometime soon. I suspected from the beginning that this case must be related to that psycho-heredity thing. I was actually waiting for you to investigate it and bring it to me. Hahaha.”

“I’m humbled. As you surmised, I’ve actually been involved in this case for two years now, so…”

“What, for two years?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“...Hmm. So there was a similar case two years ago?”

“Yes, and that was also a case where the same boy strangled his biological mother.”

“Hmm. The same person, by the same means... and his own mother... Hmm.”

“Actually, at that time, I became involved in the case and argued that this boy hadn’t killed her, but the culprit was never found afterwards.”

“Even with your sharp eye?”

“...It’s quite embarrassing, but it was my first time encountering such a perplexing case, and how should I explain it... The traces of the crime were clearly left, yet the culprit was nowhere to be found.”

“...Hmm. Interesting.”

「Even after that boy was acquitted in the previous case of strangling his birth mother, I never felt at ease and wanted to somehow identify the real culprit. As a result, I contacted the victim's older sister, a woman named Yashiroko who was the boy's aunt, and also the police, asking them to immediately inform me if there was any change in the boy's behavior. I was constantly vigilant, but today, two years later, the same boy again strangled his aunt, a girl named Wu Moyoko who was to be his bride, on the eve of their wedding. It was concluded that the murder of his birth mother two years ago must also have been committed by this boy in a similar psychotic fit. Thanks to this, my words from two years ago, 'There is another culprit who killed this boy's mother,' now seem to have completely lost credibility.」