I Became the Final Subjugation Target of That Era’s Light Novel

Sometimes, when living life, there are days when you feel strange.

Like when you feel someone following you, but when you turn around, there’s no one there, or when you’re alone at home but feel like someone is there.

I wasn’t someone who particularly believed in the supernatural, but that doesn’t mean one can go against human instincts.

I read somewhere that this kind of feeling is “instinctual,” a signal from the brain to periodically check for potential threats in order to ensure safety.

I don’t know how credible that explanation is, but I thought it was a fairly reasonable analysis.

Anyway.

Lately, I’ve been feeling that “strange feeling” quite often.

When I finish work. When I leave a local restaurant after eating.

If I feel this way repeatedly, doesn’t it mean something is going on?

“……”

Before entering my house, I placed my hand on the doorknob and looked back.

But no one seemed to be in the alley. Just the small sounds echoing from around the neighborhood.

……Now that I think about it, I’ve never really heard TV sounds in this apartment.

I can hear snoring from the next room every day.

But there should have been sounds from neighboring rooms or conversations from downstairs, but strangely, it’s only the snores that echo late at night.

Thinking about it made me feel a bit uneasy.

Could it be that this building is mostly vacant? Well, even if someone urged me to live here, I wouldn’t want to.

Still, I’m not exactly enthusiastic enough to find another place, and I definitely don’t have the money, so it seems I’ll be stuck here for a while.

“……”

After staring into the alley once more, I entered my room.

I should just get some sleep.

I have school tomorrow, after all.

*

As expected, the school uniform was pretty expensive.

There’s a place near Hanagawa High School that sells uniforms, so I ordered two sets of summerwear. After all, I couldn’t just wear a sweaty uniform all summer without washing it.

The summer uniform was black and a sailor uniform. The basic design was nearly the same, but of course, it had short sleeves, and even though it was black, the fabric was thin.

I don’t fully understand why we have to wear the ribbon under the collar even in summer, but then again, in mangas, they sometimes wear vests. So I guess this is acceptable.

Wearing a comparatively thinner and short-sleeved uniform compared to the winter one, summer in Japan was brutally humid and hot.

Wait, to clarify, summer in Tokyo was humid and hot. Maybe up north, in Sapporo or places like that, it’s relatively cooler than most areas in Korea? It is located up there, after all.

That said, summer still feels like summer.

On June 1st, after classes ended, I briefly stopped by the club room to say hello and returned home.

In my previous life, I sometimes jumped into flames, but still, enduring this hot weather was quite tough. If I had to choose, I’d prefer winter, even if it meant being cold and shivering. Well, that’s just about the weather.

In winter, there are more incidents of fire and injuries, making it busier, so that part I don’t like.

Today was so hot that I only showed my face at the club. Seeing everyone in a terrible condition, they quickly sent me home, so I rushed back. Of course, I grabbed a dorayaki and stuffed it into my bag.

I got home by 5 PM.

I tossed my bag on the floor and lay down without even changing clothes.

Thanks to the sunlight streaming in through the window that didn’t quite reach the curtain, the floor felt warm. Of all things, the wooden floor was soaking up the humidity as well.

“……Should I wash up?”

I muttered to myself, a common occurrence when alone, and sat back up.

Having walked for 30 minutes and sweating quite a bit, my body felt sticky. This avatar made by an outside entity felt absurdly human.

As I decided to go find a fan, someone knocked.

Knock, knock.

“……”

I stared blankly at the door.

It’s been a while since Suzuki-sensei came directly to my house. I often got called in for some counseling or something, but it seemed a little too much for a teacher to visit a student’s house too often.

She promised to help whenever I needed, but… I was still using the blood-stained blanket. I could only imagine the expression on Suzuki-sensei’s face if she saw this blanket, and until I changed it, I figured I wouldn’t call her.

Actually, even if I changed it, I probably wouldn’t call her anyway.

Other than that… no one had visited my house directly. Yuuki just followed behind me.

“Who is it?”

I stood up and asked.

Knock, knock.

But instead of answering, the person knocked again.

For a moment, I felt a little anxious.

Lately, I’ve often been struck with sudden feelings of anxiety. That sensation I felt previously still happens sporadically.

It feels a bit odd for someone who had to deal with intense situations to say something like this, but right now, my body felt like a malnourished high school girl.

There’s no way I could stop an adult man if he barged in.

But I also didn’t want to resort to self-harm to draw a weapon.

Knock, knock.

I walked to the door and calmly locked the chain. If I pushed hard enough, I could likely hold it just once, right?

Then, while holding it like that, I slightly opened the door just enough to see outside.

The person outside was— a girl about my age.

She was dressed in a pristine white outfit with an umbrella in hand, looking all put together.

She was alone. Her height… was much taller than mine. Even though she appeared like a refined, well-dressed girl, her sheer presence was imposing.

“……Who are you?”

When I asked, the girl with black hair and fair skin opened her mouth with a polite demeanor.

“Hello. I wanted to share a good story with you, and I was wondering if you had some time?”

“……”

I briefly lost my words.

The power I was gripping on the doorknob lessened just a tad.

“……No, I’m not interested.”

I answered like that and closed the door.

And when I turned to return to my room—

Knock, knock.

“……”

“Could you let me in just once?”

The girl’s voice from outside was small again.

“I’m not interested.”

I repeated to the door.

“Are you really not interested? If you listen to my story, you could get to go to Heaven later.”

I almost scoffed at that after coming to this world for the first time.

“……If God has a conscience, then He wouldn’t send me to Hell, right?”

At my response, the person beyond the door fell silent for a moment.

Surely… she wouldn’t leave, I thought. No footsteps were heard from behind the door.

“Is that so…?”

After a while of silence, the girl muttered,

“I came to convey the words of Shura Nirlas.”

“What?”

That comment momentarily halted my thoughts.

I quickly unclasped the chain and opened the door, but there was no one outside.

As if no one had ever been there in the first place.

“……What?”

Staring blankly at the empty space beyond the door, I muttered once more.

*

Alright, let’s think back.

This novel contains elements derived from the Cthulhu Mythos.

I haven’t read far enough to see those beings making an actual appearance, but they’ve been sprinkling hints from the very beginning and will clearly show up later.

Of course, the names are completely altered. It’s likely due to copyright reasons. Lovecraft’s original works must have run out of copyright as of the time, but as the Cthulhu Mythos has been molded and mixed in by multiple authors, figuring out what’s a stocking world and what’s originally derived is impossible.

That aside, is there even a point in separating them aside from excluding the original texts?

Anyway, the author borrowed and altered the names of the gods and their servants from that Cthulhu Mythos.

The term “Shura-Nirlas” isn’t one I’ve directly read in a novel, but it’s likely derived from Shub-Niggurath.

If that’s the case, what could the identity of the girl who came to convey that story be?

Shub-Niggurath ranks third among the gods of the Cthulhu Mythos.

Though sitting high on the hierarchy, they are generally considered outside the realm of godhood as Azathoth. Following that would be the true overlord, Yog-Sothoth. Shub-Niggurath is said to be their wife… though they inherently lack a gender.

Then that “messenger” is… it’s pretty evident.

“It must be Nyarlathotep.”

But the name will likely be somewhat altered. As mentioned before, the author changes the names.

I rubbed my temples with both hands.

I mean… this body was originally meant to be an avatar created by that Shura-Nirlas.

So, to exist in this world, that being requires a separate shell like this. For some unknown reason, the knock-off Nirlas cannot practically exist in this world.

Thinking about how Nyarlathotep appears as a messenger in the originals, then does that mean that my body… was managed by that being?

“Ha.”

I let out a brief, hollow laugh before rummaging through my bag.

I pulled out a cutter knife and sharpened it.

With the blade pressed against my wrist, I paused for a moment.

Is it really a good idea to call that being here and ask questions?

Why would such a superior being bother to send a messenger to talk to me? Wouldn’t it prefer for me to call it by its own volition?

“……”

I put the knife back into my bag.

Yeah, let’s think a bit more cautiously. There’s no need to walk into a trap unnecessarily.

And there’s a risk I might ruin this expensive uniform again if I harmed myself here.

*

Working at a maid café doesn’t just mean serving drinks every day.

Including the boss and the newly joined Sasaki Shii, there are only five of us, which isn’t many.

Considering the size of the café, one could say that it is still quite a lot, but this café prides itself on being a “maid” café. Without “serving,” the entire existence of the café becomes meaningless.

However, the café doesn’t solely run on serving drinks, and sometimes I help with tidying up the stockroom or assist in making the menu.

Despite how it looks, I had a fairly good skill for these tasks, and the boss trusted my coffee-making abilities quite well.

“That should be good enough that the customers won’t notice.”

After brewing coffee a few times, the boss nodded and said that.

In other words, that meant I wasn’t as good as the boss, but comparing myself with someone who had done nothing but brew coffee for years would be meaningless.

In situations where there are too many customers, I’d quickly pitch in to prepare the menu alongside, and at times I’d organize items in the stockroom.

And it was at that point that I realized this stockroom was a treasure trove.

Aside from the necessary items for running the café, there were also several other things scattered about.

Among those, a few items caught my eye.

“Boss, what’s this…?”

While we were tidying up and temporarily delaying the opening, I pointed at an item and asked the boss.

“Oh, a fan? I bought it to use during that ambiguous weather, but once it gets hot, we just turn on the air conditioning, so it’s become useless.”

Looking at the item wrapped in plastic and gathering dust in the corner of the stockroom, the boss explained.

“Why? Do you need it?”

“Yes.”

“Um… then just take it.”

“Thank you!”

“You really don’t know how to refuse, do you?”

Who could possibly refuse?

That day, I brought the fan home. It was over an hour’s walk, and it was quite heavy for my weight, making me soak in sweat the entire way back, but I felt elated.

Now I could stay cool in my room during the hot summer!

Sure, the electric bill would rise a bit, but that’s better than dying from heat, right?

Moreover, organizing the stockroom didn’t wrap up so easily. And in that stockroom, there were also other items besides the fan.

“Boss, what about this…?”

“Oh, that? It’s a rice cooker. I bought it thinking of selling special menu items here, but it’s just limited to home use…”

Staring at the rice cooker still wrapped in plastic, I looked up at the boss expectantly, and he eyed me in disbelief.

“……Why? Do you need it?”

“I do.”

“……Then just take it.”

“Thank you!”

“You really have no sense of hesitation, do you?”

In life, taking care of one’s pride results only in losses.

That day, I returned home with a beaming smile, rice cooker in hand. I stopped by a nearby supermarket to buy rice, but I didn’t buy too much. I couldn’t carry too much back nor did I have space to store it.

However, still… it’s rice! If I do well, I might be able to eat some rice instead of bread at home!

……Ah, but I don’t have a fridge.

No way I could steal from the café fridge, so I briefly thought about something I could cook.

It was summer, so I couldn’t just leave food lying around in my room. For now, I would buy a bit and ensure it was properly dealt with each time.

Little by little, my home became equipped with belongings that could at least indicate “someone lives here” if anyone were to see inside.

*

If you were to ask me whether I like bread or rice better, I would say I like both.

But quite honestly, when it comes to filling, I believe rice takes the crown. Even though both are carbohydrates, having grown up in Asia, I can’t quite say I’m satisfied unless I fill my stomach with rice.

I filled the rice cooker with rice, added water, and began to cook.

That simple act, I hadn’t been able to do from the time I arrived in April until the second week of June.

But now, that’s no longer the case. Like an ordinary Eastern household, my house also had a rice cooker.

Well, there are still many things that I lack, but having at least this is something to be grateful for. Naturally, if there’s an opportunity to have more, I won’t refuse.

Before the rice finished cooking, I set the table and placed utensils on it. Then I took out the soy sauce that I had prepared in advance from the cupboard.

And of course, the fried egg I had prepared as well.

……Unfortunately, I still don’t have a fridge. So I bought a dozen eggs and ended up frying all of them at once.

At first, I tried to make an omelet, but it ended in disaster, so I just scrambled them instead. The crumbled pieces of egg sat there on a plate, with about five fried eggs piled on top.

Well, that’s fine. Today, I was planning to feast after quite some time.

As I waited slightly anxiously for the rice to finish cooking—

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the door.

It was a sound I remembered.

I stood up. At this timing, I felt a bit annoyed with the visitor coming by.

“……Who is it?”

When I asked from behind the door, the answer came back:

“I’ve come to deliver good messages.”

I slowly opened the door.

Once again, it was that tall girl I had seen before.

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