of God or Buddha or what have you, which I have never considered

myself bound by. I have never killed anyone who had not himself

killed. However, that’s not intended as a justification. It’s merely a

principle I had set for myself, a line beyond which I chose not to

cross. I’ve turned down many contracts because of that, for what

it’s worth. But there was never any shortage of contracts I could

accept with a clear conscience. And though you might think it’s

ironic, I do have a conscience. I am not a sociopath. I’m merely an

exterminator, a predator, who feeds on other predators. That

doesn’t neces-arily make me any better. It merely makes me useful.

You see, a long time ago, long before your great-great-grandfather

was born. Right and wrong are never absolutes. They are merely

concepts defined by relativity. All life exists at the expense of other

life, one way or another.”

“So you’re a cynic, too, ” said Fugisawa.

Modred smiled wryly. “I prefer the term ‘post-romantic” It seems

somehow more accurate as a description of Camelot’s last survivor.

“

“I wish you weren’t such a damned charming son of a bitch, ” said

Fugisawa. “It would be easier if you were a thorough bastard.”

“But I am a thorough bastard, ” Modred said with a smile. “Both

figuratively and literally.”

“If it wasn’t for the Dark Ones, you know I’d try to bring you in.”

“I know that. And I also know it would be pointless. No jail on

earth could ever hold me. You’d have to kill me. But then, that

would make you just like me, wouldn’t it?”

Fugisawa stared at him for a moment. “I’d better go see

Katayama.”

CHAPTER Eleven

There was a crowd of curious onlookers on the side-walk outside

the shop, just beyond the police lines marking off the crime scene.

There were news reporters there, as well, and Sakahara was

talking to them when Akiro arrived. He couldn’t help feeling a