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

Chapter 5



Chapter

Well, something did appear, but Miura isn’t dying today.

Where Miura dies isn’t near the school but right in the middle of the bustling city.

In the story, the Yōkai form ‘nests’ centered around specific locations. Unless they significantly strengthen themselves, the only thing that can come out is ‘thought energy.’

And the only beings that can enter that nest are those that the Yōkai have deliberately brought in, not ones that force their way.

What I sensed was probably that thought energy—slightly leaking from a Yōkai that had been closely observing Miura.

So as long as Miura deliberately doesn’t go back to that area, she won’t die just yet.

…Actually, I was a bit worried, so I spent some time waiting in front of the station.

Even after sitting on a bench for about two hours, Miura never returned to the station.

It’s a bit troublesome that she doesn’t live near the school.

It’s not just about the long commute; the time spent commuting also limits my time to wander around.

I considered talking to the heroine, but the heroine hasn’t even made her appearance yet in this story.

She only transfers to this school after helping the main character and his younger sister.

If I involve the main character now, he might die before awakening his abilities.

So, whatever happens now is something I have to deal with.

Whether I kill the Yōkai or postpone when the incident will happen.

“Let’s head back.”

I muttered to myself as I stood up for no reason.

However, before returning, there was one thing I needed to buy.

I stopped by the convenience store in front of the station.

Then, I went to the magazine corner, looking for something decent among the weekly magazines.

What I was looking for wasn’t cosmetics, celebrity news, or manga magazines. Rather—

“There it is.”

I pulled out a magazine.

On the cover, a headline boldly proclaimed:

[The Serial Murder Case Shaking Tokyo! Uncovering the Truth!]

Naturally, since this magazine had such a headline prominently displayed, it wasn’t particularly famous. But I didn’t care much about that.

…The magazine itself wasn’t very expensive, but my wallet wasn’t doing too well after spending a lot of time hanging out with rich girls.

Maybe I’ll just buy bean sprouts at the mart near my house.

And while I’m at it, I should take a flyer to see what items are on sale.

Having thought that far, I let out a deep sigh and left the convenience store.

*

Still, over the past few days, I had managed to buy enough to sustain myself.

Mainly cheap pots, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and daily necessities bought in bulk from the yen shop.

By the way, I still haven’t bought a refrigerator. Even if I were to buy one, the cost of getting it delivered scares me, so for now, I’m just living by buying consumables that I can use each day.

…Breakfast and lunch were solved with a bread roll, with dinner being a pan-fried bean sprout seasoned with soy sauce tucked between two bread rolls.

I also got a disposable plastic knife when I bought the bread.

For now, I need to save Miura’s life, and then maybe look for a part-time job afterward.

Once the first incident is passed, the heroine and main characters will take care of everything.

At least after working for daily wages, I can supplement my protein intake with discounted meat.

I nibbled on the bean sprout-filled bread roll while harboring such hopes.

And I flipped through the magazine I bought.

As the cover suggested, the main article was focused on the serial murders happening in Tokyo right now.

I took out the notebook and pen I also bought at the yen shop and spread them out on the floor, lying down with my bag as a cushion.

Without a blanket or anything, resting on the hard bag was pretty uncomfortable.

…But Japan’s April isn’t that cold, so it was bearable. After all, if I just endure a bit longer, the weather will get warmer, followed by summer.

I could buy a blanket later to get school summer uniforms. Besides, I would need several summer uniforms.

Rationalizing in that way, I slowly began to read the magazine.

What I was looking for in the magazine wasn’t its mystery but the ‘facts’ written in it.

The internet is fairly active these days, but unfortunately, I don’t have a computer. I could probably do something like browse the internet on my phone, but then I’d get hit with a bomb on the communication fees.

Well, that’s neither here nor there for now.

What I needed to find in the magazine was a commonality among the victims.

I recalled the characteristics of Yōkai from novels.

In stories, Yōkai often have a severe obsession with something.

Like alcohol or blood. Perhaps the setting was deliberately included because they often ‘lure’ before handling their victims.

Yet, the Yōkai that appears at first is the ‘Agu.’

It said, “Looks delicious.”

I don’t quite know what part of Miura the Agu found delicious, but it must certainly have judged that based on some characteristic of Miura.

Click.

I pressed the button of my pen to reveal the nib and transcribed the important parts from the magazine.

[All victims are females in their late teens to twenties. Among them, only one is in her twenties, and the remaining three victims are two aged 17 and one aged 16.]

The Agu seems to have a preference for ‘soft textures.’

But why did it think “delicious” when looking at “Miura”?

[The deceased woman in her twenties was single. She was a university student attending a fairly well-known university in Tokyo.]

[The teenage girls came from different schools, but based on revelations from their friends, all had excellent grades and no boyfriends.]

The magazine concluded that the serial killer only targets virgins.

And I found that quite credible.

Of course, considering the nature of such magazines, that conclusion might have just been drawn to captivate the reader’s interest.

“After all, Miura was ultimately murdered.”

[All deaths happened in lively areas.]

[Could it be that a stalker killed them out of betrayal?]

What if the ‘girl who was thought to be a virgin’ was actually playing around with a guy and was ultimately killed after he stalked her? A rather extreme claim.

Could it be that Miura was secretly fooling around with a guy?

Such setups are rare in light novels. But considering that [Tokyo Slayers] was first published in ‘2004,’ it could fit.

In older light novels, outrageous developments and settings were common. Moreover, “It’s not a new era.” The main character’s sister, who had experienced humiliation, never appeared at all.

If Miura had a character that enjoyed fooling around with boys, it might indeed be possible she’d get killed while wandering the streets…

“Um.”

I stuffed the remaining bean sprout sandwich in my mouth and sat up straight.

“But still, it’s not just because she’s a girl.”

That’s because the main character’s younger sister also becomes a target. And that character has none of such backstory.

Still, I understood why it might come across as ‘delicious.’

The ‘image of diligence’ seems to be the most crucial element.

I don’t know why that makes it delicious, though.

“Then…”

The last thing to check would be the date of the murders.

The murder cycle is irregular. The killings have been occurring for the last six months.

What I can be sure of, however, is that the murder cycle is getting shorter.

At first, there was a gap of two months, but only two weeks had passed since the last murder.

People are impressively calm.

Then again, a few deaths in this gigantic metropolitan area isn’t something to be worried about. People who think it is are probably the police who have had some failures in their results.

“It’s not like something that would happen to me.”

From what I’ve seen while working, it really is more comfortable to think that way.

Even in a world that seems peaceful, countless people die in various ways. It’s better to let those caring professions deal with each one individually; it makes life easier.

Unfortunately, I was in a position where that wasn’t the case.

“Anyway.”

Then… how can I save Miura?

What can I do to make her look ‘more delicious’?

The deceased women, Miura, and the main character’s sister…

“…Glasses?”

Young, attending a good school, with a tidy appearance, and glasses.

I looked again at the photos of the victims in the magazine.

Not all of them wore glasses. However, out of the four victims, two of them did wear glasses.

The first two were unadorned faces. The next two wore glasses.

The next victim, Miura, also wore glasses, while the main character’s sister was known to wear both glasses and contacts.

Am I…? Am I searching for preferences?

…Could it be that I’m looking for a girl with tastier traits?

I stood up from my seat and entered the bathroom.

And stood before the mirror.

I untied the hair tie still stuck at the end of my hair and gathered my hair together to tie it all at once.

It wasn’t easy. Like Yamashita said, tying it together beautifully, and making sure it doesn’t flow down after it unravels took quite some time of tying and untying.

Then,

“There.”

I let my hands drop.

I swept aside my bangs covering my face, revealing a smooth face.

By adjusting the sailor uniform to minimize wrinkles, the face staring back at me was undeniably that of an honor student.

Tomorrow, I’ll go to the yen shop and buy a pair of glasses.

Having just one ‘delicious looking’ person around is less enticing than having two together.

*

“Oh, what is it?”

Fukuda, who arrived just slightly later than me as usual, widened her eyes and asked.

“Are you trying to escape from that gloomy hairstyle now?”

“…It’s temporary.”

“Temporary? What’s that about?”

It’s obvious that fixing my hair every morning is incredibly annoying.

Once I get through this situation… and if I can stay alive, I’ll revert it all back.

“I told you, I can’t pin you down.”

“Haha….”

With Fukuda’s comment, Miura laughed.

Eyes from around were fixated on me. Among them were girls, but most were boys.

It seems I fall under the ‘cute girl’ category.

“Oh, right.”

Fukuda suddenly looked down at me, having remembered something.

“There’s a meeting today. Do you want to come along?”

“Harumi!”

“Yeah? Why? There are way more boys anyway.”

I glanced at Miura.

Miura blushed slightly, looking a bit embarrassed.

She struggles to refuse.

Since she agreed almost absentmindedly when the friends she’s known since childhood invited her, she’s still stuck in that.

I etched that character trait into my mind.

“And you know, there are certainly guys who like girls like Kurosawa, who are petite and shy. Don’t you want a boyfriend? Huh?”

“Harumi!”

Miura looked a bit flustered.

“…Fine.”

Before Miura could stop anymore, I quickly responded.

“I’ll go.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Fukuda patted my shoulder as if congratulating me on a wise decision.

“You made a good decision. You’re good at singing too. Reviving your talents is a good thing.”

…Is she trying to dump a bomb on me?

Well, it doesn’t really matter. My aim isn’t to get a boyfriend anyway.

Most importantly, Miura wouldn’t be able to get involved with a guy at all.

I felt like I was getting a clearer picture of the incident.

*

Miura is thick as thieves with Fukuda and Yamashita.

Aside from ‘having fun,’ surprisingly well-rounded, especially since they’ve been friends since middle school.

These three have made it almost a routine to be together. They shop around together.

It’s more of an exception if they don’t hang out together. Unless it’s to take care of me, they usually take me along on their outings as well.

Now as first-year high school students, they are beginning to develop interest in the opposite sex.

As it turns out, Fukuda ended up chatting with a boy from another school, leading to this meeting.

That boy transferred to a prestigious school, one like Hanagawa High School, but it was a boys’ school.

The original lineup on this side was three, but on that side, due to being unable to filter through all the guys flocking over, they had to bump it up to four for that reason.

Now it’s first-year high school. Since everyone is still getting to know one another, no one is really willing to go out to such an unfamiliar meeting—thus, it turned out that on the girls’ side, it was just three.

Even though I joined, it turned out to be four.

My anticipated scenario would be that Fukuda and Yamashita would take one boy each and leave ahead, while poor Miura was flustered by the remaining two boys, ultimately leading her into some secluded area—

“So, don’t forget to keep in touch!”

The guy whose surname was Yam… whatever it was, said to me.

“…Right.”

When I answered vaguely, he diligently nodded.

Miura was similar, and she received a similar comment from a boy with a surname ending in ‘Naka… whatever.’

“Ahahaha….”

After seeing Miura give an awkward smile, I suppose they took that to mean that it was a YES, since he lit up brightly.

The two waved goodbye to us and headed toward the sunset, bouncing happily.

Unlike the meeting I had envisioned, it seemed incredibly wholesome, and I could only gaze blankly at those student athletes’ disappearing backs.

…I’m rotten.

As I chastised myself internally, Miura spoke up.

“Shall we go too?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded my head.

The family restaurant—singing room course did cost a bit, but thankfully, the boys covered most of it.

Thinking back, it’s pretty much 1:1 on either side.

Even though I’m at an age where I can do something if I want, Fukuda and Yamashita are actually from well-off families despite appearances.

It would be difficult for anything to happen with such boys too.

The two of us turned around and started walking slowly.

I didn’t feel the chills of dread yet.

Could it be that today isn’t the day?

“But, Kurosawa.”

As we walked slowly toward the station, Miura asked.

“…What’s up with those glasses?”

She was asking about the glasses I put on since the meeting.

Unknown glasses bought at a yen shop.

“Decoration.”

“Oh, I see.”

Once I answered, Miura seemed to give up on asking any deeper questions.

“Well—”

“Also.”

As Miura seemed to start to say something, something interrupted her words.

“Hel—help me.”

A voice, sounding like a throat clogged.

And as that voice was heard, I felt a shiver running down my spine.

A weird bad feeling crept up my back.

“Help me.”

Following the voice—

“Gya!?”

Miura yelped and covered her mouth with her hands.

A person bleeding.

In the alley, a man was collapsed, blood streaming out dramatically.

He looked to have been beaten up; one of his legs was bent in an odd direction, blood flowing from a split lip.

He was a man who looked to be in his fifties. He didn’t particularly convey a sense of homelessness—someone that seemed common during the commute, perhaps even staggering about in this very area at midnight.

A man in a black suit was groaning amidst the alleyway.

That grimaced-looking face, crumpled into a grimace while lying on the floor, was rather terrifying.

Moreover—

“Help me.”

—Delicious.

It was clearly a distorted face, yet for some reason, it seemed to be smiling to me.

The man’s gaze turned from Miura to me.

“W-would you please help me? Help me!”

—This one too— looks delicious.

Miura approached the alleyway without hesitation.

“Wait!”

I grabbed Miura’s hand to stop her before she could enter the alley.

Miura looked a bit shocked, turning to me.

It was clearly an unusual situation, but it seemed she hadn’t realized it.

This was a place bustling with people; entirely ignoring the voice that was loud and clear.

That short alley stood out as particularly dark. There was nothing blocking the sky between the buildings.

That’s a nest.

“Miura.”

“Y-yeah?”

Holding her arm tightly, I called her name, and she seemed a bit flustered.

“Call the police.”

“Eh?”

“Call the police.”

“…Ah!”

Miura’s eyes blinked in realization after my words.

“I’ll keep watch here.”

“Y-Yes! I’ll hurry and call!”

Crying out, Miura dashed off.

It’s a good thing she didn’t think of the phone.

…Good.

For now, I’ll buy us some time—

Click.

“…?”

Feeling a nasty sensation around my ankle, I looked down.

Then, I saw a hand coiling around it and opened my mouth.

“Hehehe.”

—One first.

Outside the nest, she shouldn’t be able to…?

It was when I realized that my leg was being pulled sideways that I began piecing it together.

Ah.

Was that also bait?

“Ugh!?”

The Yōkai unceremoniously pulled at my leg, and I lost my balance, collapsing sideways.

Thud, my head hit the ground. The glasses I had on my face flew to the side.

“Wait!”

“Hehe.”

Zzzip.

My legs kept getting yanked on.

I quickly tried to grab the ground, but that was impossible with my fingertips trying to grip the pavement.

Scratch.

A disgusting sound of nails scraping against the ground echoed, and I felt a slight lift on the end.

My clothes and body scraped against the pavement. It hurt.

“Delicious.”

That nasty voice came through.

When I looked down, the man’s mouth was slowly opening.

No, not just the mouth. His face itself was swelling up slowly. Like a balloon made of human skin.

His mouth was enlarging and widening, crammed with countless human teeth.

Clack, clack, a sound echoed as the teeth clashed against one another.

“P-Please, save me!”

I screamed in that way, but the people passing by didn’t even glance my way.

Rip.

My clothes snagged on the ground, tearing slightly.

Although I grasped at the corner of a building before being pulled completely into the alley, my strength was insufficient to hold fast.

“Delicious smell—”

The man who had swelled up—no, was he a woman?

Something that no longer resembled that first uncle was glaring at me with those oddly humanoid eyes, still maintaining human size, speaking.

A long, wide tongue slithered out of his mouth and stuck itself to my ankle. Slowly, it began to creep up, wet with saliva.

“Eek!”

I flailed the other leg I hadn’t been caught yet.

Smack! Smack!

As I stomped down on that tongue,

“Uh?!”

The Agu let out a sound.

“Wah!?”

My ankle was lifted upward, the view flipped upside down, and the sky appeared beneath me.

Blood pooled in my head as my gaze met the Agu’s.

The Agu stood up, holding my ankle while looking at me upside down.

A surprisingly thin neck supported a disproportionately large head. Below it was a gaunt upper body, and it had a bulging stomach.

Reminded of a man with a protruding belly, but twisted enough that it was non-human.

In the oddly dim alley, only that abnormally bare body stood out sharply.

“You, what are you?”

The Agu asked.

“S-Such a unique taste?”

It tilted its head.

Even though that soulless thing no longer appeared adorable at all.

I struggled to kick again, but that foot was also caught.

“Perhaps, it might be good for a special meal?”

The Agu said.

While gripping both my legs, the Agu clacked its teeth. The several rows of teeth clanged together, creating a sound as though many people were clashing their teeth at once.

“I don’t want to…!”

I vehemently declined.

I don’t think I want to die this way, not when I don’t even know why I’ve woken up in this world again, and even though I hadn’t been long in this world, I still didn’t want to die like this.

“Then, let’s have a taste—”

—Iitadakimasu.

“Stop—!”

With the mouth that drew nearer, I instinctively thrust my hands forward.

Thud.

The collision could be heard, and this time it was not the click of teeth against one another, but the sound of something being crushed—

I felt pressure on my hands, something flowing, and—

My open mouth wails out a scream.

“Guh?!”

—The Agu produced a sound like that.

Ptooey.

My hands were thrown off.

I transformed, abruptly soaring a short distance and smashing against a wall.

“Cough.”

A sound escaped my lips, and my head ached as if it were about to burst.

As I tumble downward, I slammed into a heater unit that protruded from a building, breaking my back. Before I could feel the pain, I stumbled once more to the ground, thud.

Given my frail high school girl body suffering from malnutrition, that impact was unbearable, yet I was still alive.

Unluckily.

No, fortunately…

“Hah, hah…”

As I forcibly expanded my shrunken lungs, gasping for breath, I began to push myself up with my hands on the ground.

—With my hands?

They were not crushed to a pulp, lacking any forms.

There were some bruises left over. Blood was spilling, perhaps from the large bite marks left behind, but curiously, they seemed to move normally.

“Ugh.”

The Agu looked at me.

Although it covered its mouth with both hands, the gaping hole on the side was still clearly visible.

Blood flowed within.

It didn’t seem to belong to me.

“…AAH!?”

Then suddenly, I screamed at the pain in my left hand.

Losing strength in the hand I was leaning on, I collapsed forward once more.

I turned my body and pulled out the hand that had been pinned underneath.

“…Huh?”

The blood flowing from my hand soaked my left wrist.

It flowed in a manner tracing the shape of the pentagram tattoo inked on my left hand.

A scream erupted from my lips.

The center of that pentagram seemed to have split open, like something watching me.

Blood gushed forth.

My left arm bent involuntarily, holding the position as if it were supporting something, and the blood flowed upward.

“…”

I just stared at that scene in a daze.

It was such a bizarre sight that it made me forget the pain.

The blood trickling from that ripped open wound slowly began to rise, as though something was intricately being woven together, like a 3D printer printing an object.

“Hmm.”

And then, I heard a whisper in my ear.

“Where’s your avatar? I’ve found that you occupy it.”

My body wouldn’t move. Even breathing felt impossible—no, would my heart still be pounding?

I couldn’t even manage to move my eyes; ‘something’ wandered around me, trying to converse with me.

Everything around was equally still. The strange Agu before me. The people moving outside the alley. The gentle breeze that faintly had been blowing. None of it moved at all.

Only the blood springing from my wrist slowly, leisurely ‘squeezed’ something out.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. It is merely entertainment after all.”

A voice that whispers into my ear touched my shoulder.

“However, dying like this would be such a waste. You probably don’t even know who you are, yet the fact that you don’t know makes you attractive, so it would still be too early to ruin you.”

What was being woven together was a sword.

The hints of it were filled with blood, almost rendering that ‘something crafted’ to the point that it was hard to tell whether it was something visible.

“You have seized something of mine, so it would be nice if you could amuse me a little.”

‘Take that sword—with your body, I hope you will protect it. As I have taken your possessions, I shall expect such kindness in return.’

With the face beside me pressed against mine, it endlessly gazed at the red sword.



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