I knew I should’ve destroyed that damned Lump of Flesh but with dark forces on my trail — drawing bloody sigils on my apartment door, even — and my stamina flagging, I was desperate. The ritual gave energy, sure, but I don’t think it was my own. Soon after, I took a box cutter and opened tidy gill slits in my neck. The ‘Insmasu look’, they call it. I was losing myself. I was almost relieved when my next investigation, into the janitor making mermaids out of students, took everything I had left. Gozō, The Thing Forsaken By God, awoke but hey, but it was no longer my problem.