"Is killing people a bad thing?"
"Really?"
Polina, who was watching the scenery pass by through the sparsely populated windows of the last car of the rattling train, let out a startled cry.
The question posed by Anastasia, a fellow fire demon, was all the more unexpected. It was like being asked, "If a knife is thrust through the heart, does the living thing die?"—a question so obvious that it wasn't even worth discussing.
Is killing someone a bad thing?
Polina tilted her head, wondering what he was suddenly going to say.
There's nothing good or bad about that kind of thing; for us who were trained as agents, it's an issue that should have been settled a long time ago.
Polina couldn't help but stare intently at the emotionless face of Anastasia, who was sitting next to her.
"What's wrong? You're acting so suddenly."
"Is killing someone a bad thing?"
"...I can only say it depends on the time, place, and occasion."
"for example?"
"For example... well, you know? If you don't clarify what you want to know, we're having trouble understanding you."
"So, simply put, is it a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Is that about good and evil? Or about the law? Or about work?"
"..."
"Ah, that's the look on his face like he doesn't even understand it himself."
"...maybe."
"Wow. Well, in that case, there's no way for me to answer."
Anastasia remained motionless with her arms crossed.
Polina glanced sideways at her partner, who, despite having asked the question himself, had become speechless, like a student struggling to solve a difficult problem. She waited. She waited a little longer. But there was no change. "Looks like it's no use," she sighed loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"...It seems Nastya isn't convinced about something."
"Consent?"
"Right. You have this nagging feeling of unease, wondering if this is okay. But you don't even know what that feeling is about. That's why you're troubled."
"Is that so?"
"That's right."
Polina thought slowly, explaining things to him.
The train is already heading into the mountainous region, its destination. The moment of encounter with its target, Reze, is drawing near, and contact with the Public Security escorts could happen at any moment. That's why Anastasia's statement at this point can only be described as "What's the point now?"
"Maybe Nastya doesn't want to get rid of this Reze person?"
"No, not really."
"There are no Soviet guards here, you know? You can say whatever you want and you won't get in trouble."
"I honestly don't have any strong feelings about the mission."
Anastasia answered immediately.
He had no hesitation in eliminating the girl who had once been his comrade. He was the furthest thing from having a weak mental structure that would be swayed by mercy or compassion.
"Hmm. Nastya has always been like that, hasn't she?"
"Yes. At first it was a dog. Each guinea pig was assigned one, and we were ordered to raise it until it became tame, and then kill it. I killed it. Because it was a simple choice between killing or not killing; it couldn't be simpler. Yet all the other guinea pigs chose to postpone. Even the quickest decision-makers took at least five seconds..."
"Wow, that's awful. ...Oh, by the way, what was I doing at that time?"
"You're the one who made that decision in those five seconds."
"Indifferent~"
"What was the point of buying time? It'll only make a bad impression on the instructor."
"Every human being has a moral code they don't want to abandon, Anastasia."
"Morality..."
"Could I rephrase that as, 'I want to be a good person'?"
"I don't know who that 'right person' is."
"Yeah, that's what TPO (Time, Place, and Occasion) is all about."
Anastasia slightly raised one eyebrow.
The tall girl urged me to continue, gazing at the top of her knitted hat swaying back and forth on her shoulders.
"Obsessing oneself with morality is a personal obsession, mere ego. A lot of people are mistaken, but prioritizing that doesn't make you a righteous person. What constitutes a righteous or unrighteous person changes depending on the time, place, and occasion. In the Soviet Union, it was someone who followed those in power. In a democratic country, it was someone who followed the majority opinion. You understand that, right?"
"..."
"Nastya, which of the two good people do you want to be?"
"..."
"Which one would you be more satisfied with?"
The red-haired girl remained silent for a while before answering.
"...I don't know"
"Wrong answer."
From beneath her silver hair, golden eyes, split vertically like those of a reptile, peered out.
"No matter which option Nastya chooses, she will never be satisfied."
Polina leaned against her partner, her slender body unsuited for close-quarters combat. She was slow to learn and had no fighting sense. Everyone among the guinea pigs thought she would quickly become a dropout.
However, he actually made it to the final selection round. This was because he was skilled at reading people's psychology.
"A lack of empathy. Nastya doesn't understand people's feelings, does she? She can't intuitively understand 'good people' or 'bad people.' She won't be convinced by imitating other people's ways of life."
The train shakes. The scenery whizzes by.
Polina only whispered in a calm, detached tone.
"Nastya's understanding is only within herself. No one else can be a reference. She has to decide for herself."
The train announcement begins.
Thank you for riding with us. Next stop is the final stop. Please be careful not to leave any belongings behind.
There is one thing in this world that is absolutely equal for everyone, and that will be mercilessly taken away no matter how much you cry, scream, or look away.
time.
The current time is 3 PM.
Anastasia's life is scheduled to end at 6 PM today.
3 hours remaining
Осталось 3 часа.
Black Children In China, there are children who do not have household registration.
When I was six years old, my parents told me they couldn't send me to school.
I was stunned, unable to comprehend what was going on, when my older sister, who was the same age as me, confronted my father Linfa.
—Even though we're a single-parent family and poor, surely we can afford to send our children to elementary school. If it's absolutely necessary, I'll work, so couldn't you at least send your younger sister?
--I can't.
It's not about money.
You don't have a family register.
I can't go to school because I don't have any identification.
My father's labored breathing was particularly memorable.
My father was a strict man who neither drank nor smoked.
My father worked in a factory, and his hands were always stained black.
My father would buy books on payday, once a month, and teach me to read and write.
My father had a look of sadness on his face that I had never seen before.
—You are not our real children.
My deceased mother was unable to get pregnant, so I ended up buying it at the market.
I didn't understand what they were saying.
No, I think they didn't want to understand.
The moment those words, "You are not our real children," entered my mind from deep within my ears, my survival instinct kicked in, and I forcefully refused to process them any further. The repercussions of this recklessness strained my nervous system, and I became unsteady on my feet. I felt as if the world was tilting.
How long did the silence last in that dimly lit room?
When I could no longer bear it and was about to let out meaningless sobs,
"...I see, that's how it is. Well, in that case, there's nothing we can do."
My sister's murmur seeped into my earlobes.
Looking back, I think those words became the wedge that stuck with me.
My sister was the one who held onto my spirit, which was on the verge of flying away somewhere after losing my anchor.
This is something that can't be helped. It's over. So there's no point in worrying about it.
My sister's shoulders were trembling. Her profile was rigid and pale, like a painting I'd seen in a book.
Apparently, there are over 13 million Black Children like us in China.
The vast majority of children who were marginalized due to the one-child policy were girls.
The reason is that in rural areas, still bound by old ways of thinking, there is a strong desire for a male heir. If a girl is born first, her birth is not registered, and despite knowing it is illegal, she is either sold, abandoned, or secretly raised. Only a boy, who is finally born afterward, is registered as the "first child."
My father apparently applied many times to have us recognized as his daughters-in-law.
But the local government refused.
For local governments competing to demonstrate the success of the one-child policy, it was nothing but a nuisance that they couldn't afford to have Black Children.
Because we didn't have a family register-based identification card, we couldn't get medical treatment at a hospital. We couldn't borrow books from the library either. Of course, we couldn't go to school. Even so, my father helped us with our studies little by little, so although we were behind other children our age, we could read and write. I think that was the only thing we were better off than others.
My father died.
It seems she was caught in a road collapse accident. A neighbor told us that her body had been buried in concrete, so we wouldn't be able to see her one last time. The woman continued, looking at us with curiosity.
—The government is going to give you a lot of compensation, that's great.
However, we do not have a family register.
I had no right to receive it.
"...It can't be helped. These things happen. So , don't cry your eyes out." Zhu A
My sister, still trembling, grabbed my hand and led me down a back alley in the twilight, as if trying to shake off the weight of the curse.
Since my father had died, we had even lost the right to live in the house.
"—Big sister wants to avenge Quanxi, right?"
"Oh yeah, that's right. What are you talking about now?"
As I rode the front car of the train, rattling and shaking, I remembered the passing scenery through the sparsely populated windows.
My sister must have wanted to cry then, and then again.
But there was nothing I could do by just having my two children cry. So I forced myself to hold back my tears.
--We can't even live a normal life until we kill the Demon of Control!
I've always been protected by my older sister.
When her sister heard that Kwanxi had been killed, she didn't say "it can't be helped" for the first time.
He threw aside all his patience up to that point and decided to take revenge.
Then.
There is only one thing I need to do.
Now it's my turn to be the one to hold my sister back.
Even if it means we'll both fall into the abyss together—
"It's Christmas time."
Anyone Santa Claus touches turns into a doll. And anyone that doll touches also turns into a doll.
The demon-using girl who came from Germany had apparently made a contract with a doll demon.
About half of the dolls standing around her move towards the rear car, their feet neatly aligned in an orderly fashion.
My sister and I watched the scene with gloomy, somber eyes.
"Are you going to make dolls again...?"
"I can't deliver all the presents by myself."
Those Japanese passengers in the lead car—just a few minutes ago, they too were living their own lives.
They are now mere tools of evil. Even as we sit here right now, they are increasing the number of victims as the train moves forward, one carriage at a time.
"...Uhhh"
It was my first time riding a train.
The window offered a view of beautiful mountains and a river winding through the valley, but it didn't feel like I was in the mood to relax and enjoy the scenery.
The cause, needless to say, was the girl who called herself Santa Claus and was sitting across from me like a statue.
"We've gathered a decent number."
Standing around the Germans who have joined forces to defeat the demon of domination are various Japanese people of all ages and genders. Every single one of them has a uniformly artificial, expressionless face. They are not human. They are dolls.
"Hey... if you're turned into a doll, you can never go back to normal, right?"
"yes"
"Isn't it a bit much to go that far...?"
My sister is grinding her teeth.
Santa Claus tilts his head in a feigned innocent manner.
"Numbers are power. They will be necessary to achieve your goals."
"What did these guys do? They were innocent people, weren't they?"
"Everyone takes a life, to some extent, in order to live."
"This isn't about making a living, is it? Couldn't you have done it another way...?"
"Compromise is the root of failure."
The dolls surrounding Santa Claus remain completely motionless.
Everyone is staring blankly into the distance. They are no longer human. They are not even living beings anymore. Their lives have been stolen from them. So that we may achieve our purpose.
The demon-using girl's green eyes gleamed ominously.
"For example, let's say we cornered the Demon of Control."
"ah?"
"The demon of control has fled into the crowd. If you lose sight of it now, you'll never get another chance... Now, imagine you have a grenade in your hand. Will you throw it in? Or will you give up?"
"That's..."
"If you're not motivated, I'd like you to return the cursed demon."
My sister was at a loss for words.
The devil's nail, which guaranteed the death of anyone stabbed with it four times, was our only weapon, one we could no longer let go of.
Although he glares back, he can't resist any further.
"...Damn it! Are all demon users like this?!"
"Big sister..."
Santa Claus may appear as a young girl younger than us, but inside she is a professional demon user with decades of experience. She will do anything to achieve her goals, and she has no qualms about trampling on the weak.
We should have known.
We joined forces knowing all of that.
But was that really the right thing to do?
Isn't that the same approach taken by the cold-hearted government officials who have pushed us to the fringes of society?
"A professional is a professional because they give their all. If Kwanxi had been there, I'm sure she would have done something similar."
"Quanxi would never do something like that!"
"Well, I wonder. I hear there were many corpses left along the path she took. I don't think she would go to the trouble of doing that for an ordinary person."
"What do you know?! Quanxi... Quanxi helped us! Without expecting anything in return!"
"Y-yes, that's right... Quanxi wouldn't do anything terrible..."
"I see. Quanxi seems to be quite the 'worshipper'."
"It's nothing that big of a deal... It's just common sense for a human being."
"If you want to uphold morality, you should not seek revenge."
"..."
I had a feeling about it ever since the first time he spoke to me.
Santa Claus is like a cold, heartless social structure that has taken on human form. He has no emotions and thinks rationally. He easily discards the weak.
My sister seems to think she's on equal footing with such a devilish being, but that's just naive thinking. She's not someone you can get through to.
I know because I've experienced it many times in my life.
Those who exploit the weak are able to be in that position precisely because they are powerful.
They possess money and power, are intelligent, are capable of violence, and, above all, have strong connections with other powerful individuals.
They're not the kind of opponent that ignorant orphan sisters like us stand a chance against.
They'll probably suck every last bit out of you.
"Your sister will die in the worst possible way in the future."
I feel a chill run down my spine.
We are sinking deeper and deeper into a bottomless quagmire.
There's no need to think back. Ever since that day I swore revenge and set off on my journey, an ominous hand had been biting into me with every step I took.
A contract with the demon of the future.
A contract with the demon of revenge.
An alliance with Santa Claus.
The cursed nail.
...I had the feeling that my mind and lifespan were being chipped away at an inch.
(Someone... anyone will do... I just want someone to change this stagnant situation...)
I almost want to scream.
I need help.
It didn't matter who it was. As long as they could get me out of this abyss. Even if it was an even more evil demon, or a sorcerer who knew nothing but slaughter—
Perhaps that wish was granted.
"Oh?"
It was Santa Claus who suddenly let out a cry of surprise.
"Um... Santa Claus?"
"What's wrong?"
The German girl remained silent after that.
They don't respond to our questions, even though we sisters are asking them.
He narrowed his eyes just a little, and stared intently at the door leading to the rear car, as if he could see through the dolls he had sent to the rear car to increase his forces.
"enemy"
The surrounding dolls swing their arms in perfect unison. They quickly transform into sword-like shapes and begin forming a formation facing the door.
"The enemy is coming."
There was a small sound.
From the rear of the vehicle came sounds like glass shattering, scrap metal clashing, and lumber falling from the truck bed—but there was something fundamentally different about these sounds compared to the everyday sounds I was familiar with.
Those were the sounds of destruction.
If you listen carefully, you can hear it intermittently, gradually getting louder.
There are no human voices. Only the sound of something being mechanically crushed is steadily approaching.
"Who's the enemy...? Was it a Public Security Devil Hunter on board?"
"No. Not Japanese. Eastern European... Slavic?"
As Santa Claus shifts his position, a sudden human scream erupts from the rear of the train.
"What?! What?!"
"Huh, my arm...?"
"My body's moving on its own?!"
Suddenly, a tsunami-like wave of shouts and screams swept in.
It was utter chaos; I couldn't understand what had happened. This train, starting from the front car, was supposed to be a world filled only with dolls. A silent, heartless space, inhabited only by inanimate objects. Suddenly, human voices erupted... Had the dolls turned back into humans...?
I stared at the door.
"Nooooooo!"
"A demon! It's a demon!"
"Whyyyy?! My legs won't move?!"
Something incredible is happening.
But I don't really feel it.
Enemy...? Doll...? It all sounds like a tall tale happening in a faraway land.
Why am I even here in the first place?
It was for revenge, for my sister. Those were the only justifications that lingered in my mind, but there was nothing I could really grasp about them.
A hitman named Santa Claus and a mysterious enemy who suddenly appears—I can't keep up with the relentless pace of reality that these professional killers are pushing forward.
"—Demons. Both have received training in combat techniques. They also retain their intelligence."
Santa Claus spoke calmly and matter-of-factly.
"He doesn't hesitate to make dolls pretend to be human. Yet, he's not intoxicated by the slaughter. He's calmly aiming for this... He's clearly experienced."
I belatedly realized that this was the enemy's analysis.
The sounds of destruction coming from the vehicle behind are getting louder and louder. It's getting closer.
"And yet, he's so young. He's quite an odd presence. And if he's also Slavic, there's only one possibility."
A tremendous impact sound. The thick alloy door was blown off.
The only sound was the rattling noise of something sliding and spinning across the floor, and the place was enveloped in a moment of silence.
The puppet soldiers deepen their stances.
Slippery.
A tall woman emerged from the rear of the train.
"..."
A woman wearing a knitted hat and dressed in what appeared to be a student's uniform.
In both hands, she held the arms of a human—no, a doll—that had been transformed into swords.
He silently glared at us inside the train car and, at a leisurely pace like any other passenger, took only three steps inside.
Appearing from behind them was a girl who was about the same height as them.
"Oh my? We've ended up in the lead car. Does that mean the main body is here?"
She was dressed the same as the tall woman, and had a smug, innocent, and inappropriately bright smile on her face.
I shielded my eyes with my hand as if gazing into the distance, and scanned each figure one by one. I focused on the dolls in a defensive formation, then on my sister and I, half-rising, and finally, my gaze settled on the German girl who remained seated.
" Santa Claus! I'm surprised you're still alive!"
" Hello, Soviet guinea pig. What can I do for you?"
"We came to exterminate the main body! These dolls suddenly attacked us!"
With a quick pull, he lifted the doll, its head in his hand.
"Ah... ah... just spare my life..."
With a snap, its neck was broken.
"It's really annoying when things like this happen."
"It seems there's been a misunderstanding."
"Haha, a misunderstanding?"
"My targets are not you Soviets. My presence here was purely coincidental."
"Hmm, I see. What do you think, Nastya?"
The tall girl swung the sword-like arms she held in both hands with a whoosh.
For some reason, I found beauty in that simple movement. It was masterful. It reminded me of the lead actor in a movie I watched with my father.
"You're German, aren't you?"
Why do I find myself so captivated by it?
Suddenly, my father's words came back to me.
"Because that's where the real kung fu lies."
My father said that even an amateur can appreciate beauty when they see something truly excellent.
A tall woman.
The tension in his entire body was released, his grip on the makeshift sword was shallow, yet his back was straight, and the angle of his legs and knees were firmly planted on the ground.
Although its expression was similar to the other dolls', with a blank look, its presence was different.
She could leap out at any point at full speed. She could twist her body in any way she wanted, and probably even easily dodge bullets while counterattacking. Even I, a layperson, could sense the sheer rationality that made me so certain.
"You're German, aren't you?"
The woman didn't seem to mind the train's swaying.
Standing proudly and imposingly, he repeated in a resolute tone, as if confronting us with the truth of this world.
"Germany is an evil aggressor."
"Invaders...? What are you talking about?"
"Evil invaders must be dealt with."
"There's no such history, is there?"
"That's what I was taught."
Suddenly, the woman swung her arm.
The dolls all react at once, and a metallic sound rings out.
The fragments, the dolls that had become a wall, one of them crumbled... and I finally noticed. A sword-like object was deeply embedded in the doll's head.
He threw it.
"You're a bad guy. I'm going to get rid of you."
"I don't understand."
—And then, my arm was grabbed.
My sister had a desperate look on her face. Linfa
"Stop spacing out! Come here!"
I was pulled with all my might.
I was pushed to the very front of the vehicle, towards the driver's door, and the impact on my back almost made me cough. But I couldn't dwell on that.
A deafening metallic clang—the battle between professionals had begun.
More than 20 puppet soldiers simultaneously attack the demon woman.
The woman moves. She anticipates the attack and slides in a downward hand chop.
At the same time, numerous thrusts from the other dolls were unleashed, but they were in vain, only making a resounding noise. The woman was inside. Her knees rotated.
"Is the non-interference treaty really a good thing?"
"It's fine. The Soviet Union has nothing to do with me anymore."
The one who answered instead was a small girl who was leaning against the entrance to the rear vehicle and observing silently.
A tremendous jolt runs through the vehicle. By some unknown principle, three adult-sized mannequins are simultaneously suspended in mid-air.
"Irrelevant? You're Soviet guinea pigs, aren't you?"
"Yeah. But I quit. You know about the Moscow incident, right? We were the ones who did that."
"Are you a deserter?"
The woman danced. Her knitted hat and red hair arced as she struck the two dolls, turning them, along with the blade, into fragments.
It was captivating. The woman's forehead was covered in grotesque, red, dragon-like scales.
"I haven't resigned. If anyone resigned, it was them. They're no longer the Soviet Union."
"Huh?"
"The Soviet Union is here. I am the Soviet Union."
"Haha, I don't understand what that means."
Without any hesitation, the woman carelessly snapped the doll's head off.
The swords swung at the woman were cut down and vanished, and the puppet soldiers fell as if following a predetermined script. It was a wonder that no blood splattered.
It was like an improvised dance.
The movements are fluid, tight, and uninterrupted.
A warrior who has mastered the ancient arts of swordsmanship and martial arts has been resurrected and has come to defeat the evil known as Santa Claus that is running rampant in modern times—a childish idea that I found a little disgusting in the back of my mind, but my heart was still racing.
There were heroes. True martial arts warriors who saved the weak and those no one else would dare to look after.
Unbeknownst to me, my childishness slipped out.
" ..."Cool and refreshingcool
I made eye contact with the dragon.
There lies the darkness of enlightenment, freed from all worldly anguish.
My sister was saying something right next to me. She pulled on my clothes to make me stand up and smashed open the cover to pull the emergency escape door latch. "Let's get out!" she was shouting, but I couldn't take my eyes off her.
I thought no one would help me. I thought my sister and I were hated by the whole world.
But maybe that's not the case.
Seeing that woman in the dragon-like red made me realize something. Somewhere in this world, there must be someone who will stand by even non-existent orphans like us. I don't know if she was that person, but there are definitely other people like Kwang-si out there. We're not alone. I felt like there's hope to keep living.
Santa Claus quietly rises.
The puppet soldiers are being whittled down in number, and a rampaging demon is closing in before them.
The girl who had come from Germany narrowed her eyes calmly.
"Predator"
One doll charges forward to buy time, and the remaining four dolls straighten their backs and open their mouths in unison.
They all spoke at once.
"I will give you everything I have."
"I will give you everything I have."
"I will give you everything I have."
"I will give you everything I have."
"In exchange"
"In exchange"
"In exchange"
"In exchange"
"Please kill those demons."
"Please kill those demons."
"Please kill those demons."
"Please kill those demons."
The atmosphere is distorting.
Something appeared.
It sits somewhere between Santa Claus and the Red Genie.
It was invisible, yet undeniably present. It distorted the scenery in the distance like optical camouflage, spewing boundless malice. A shiver ran down my spine. If Santa Claus were a bloodless robot, then this invisible entity that had just appeared was nothing more than a blood-sucking beast that devoured flesh. A terrible stench, an indelible smell of blood, hung in the air.
"Ah
It was so large that its head touched the ceiling of the vehicle, and it probably had countless arms growing out of it. I grabbed the heads of the four dolls beside it at the same time and tore them off, spine and all.
"Bo-bo-bo..."
The woman in red stopped moving.
He looked up at the invisible beast, crouching low to face it.
"Damn it, the door won't open!"
The train announcement begins to play, overlapping with my sister's screams.
An emergency stop has been made due to a demonic presence on board the train. Both doors will open, so passengers please evacuate immediately.
The vehicle begins to decelerate with a high-pitched screech of brakes. But it seems unlikely they will be able to stop in time for the clash between the beast and the demon.
Even I can understand this. In a few seconds, a deadly battle will begin. This train car will become hell.
My sister hugged me tightly.
"Ri-ri-ri-riiiiiiiiii!"
I have seen.
The small demon, who had been observing silently from the rear, began to constrict its pupils as it aimed at its prey.
Fire,
@
"Are you okay? Isn't your luggage heavy?"
"I'm fine!"
"It'll last a little longer, right?"
"I'm fine!"
The van was damaged after hitting two mysterious foreigners. It could barely move, so Denji, Nayuta, and the van had to continue on foot.
Carrying a large bag packed with food and other supplies, Denji trudged along the asphalt. His face was bright and cheerful, even radiating a sense of exhilaration. It seemed he was genuinely in a leisure mood.
Right now, we're nothing more than bait to lure in assassins...
Though I was astonished, I did let my imagination run wild for just a moment.
Leisure. Play.
What would that be like?
The land of Okutama, which we were finally reaching, was warm and peaceful.
The early summer sun makes the lush greenery shine brightly. The cool sound of a babbling stream reaches from the winding river at the bottom of the valley. Apparently, the mountains around here are famous for their hiking trails.
If you defeat the assassins you can play... I'm not Denji, but I wonder if it's really okay to do something like that.
"Mountains, huh?"
When I think of mountains, the only things that come to mind are mountain marching training and survival training.
That was tough. We had to carry backpacks so heavy that even adults would give up, and trek through the freezing cold and snow. The Soviet army didn't have any consideration for children, like reducing the weight to a more appropriate level. There were only uniform and strict rules.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
"hello?"
"We're at the shore. An assassin has appeared."
"Where is it?"
"train"
"Wow, they're using such an easily detectable route. What kind of person is he?"
"The guy who uses doll demons and the weird genie"
"Huh? A doll demon...? Could that possibly mean..."
"It's probably Santa Claus. Apparently he's still alive."
"Whaaat? Isn't that crazy?"
"The other demon is dangerous too. Its physical characteristics match the information you provided earlier. It's a resident of the secret room."
"picture"
"These are definitely Anastasia and Polina, the named guinea pigs."
It felt like I'd been doused with cold water.
"Serious" Anastasia.
Polina the "liar".
I knew them well.
"For some reason, they started fighting Santa Claus. It would have been great if they had both been defeated, but the train caught fire and we lost sight of them both."
"...I see. What kind of demon is it? What are its abilities?"
"I don't know. Those guys were taking down all the Santa dolls in hand-to-hand combat."
That was exactly the kind of thing Anastasia would do.
Think of humans as stick figures—that was the fundamental principle of hand-to-hand combat she taught.
The human body has 68 joints, meaning that the number of possible combinations in a given moment is only 68. All that's left is to eliminate the effective possibilities.
"...Do you remember my advice?"
"Is it that you said, 'Don't deal with Anastasia'? Is she really that troublesome?"
"Who do you think is the strongest in a fistfight, Kishibe-san? ...Oh, you don't have to answer. It's Quanxi, right?"
"..."
"To me, it's Anastasia. She's a woman who made it to the final selection solely on her strength, despite being completely useless in all other skills. You don't have to fight her, just ignore her. Denji and I will handle it."
"That's not going to work."
"If you absolutely insist, please limit yourself to sniping only."
I conveyed other important points and then hung up the phone.
I couldn't help but sigh.
If I had to name the guinea pig I least wanted to make an enemy of, it would be Anastasia.
And the person I least wanted to meet was the other one—
"How's Polina doing?"
Nayuta, sitting next to me, was peering at me with emotionless eyes.
"You heard that? You have good hearing."
"You'd notice if you walked together."
"Well, I guess so."
I paused for a moment, then took a light breath.
"Hey, Denji, listen up. It looks like an assassin has arrived."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"I know two of them well. Soviet fighters. The tall woman with red hair is very strong, so let's take her down together. The shorter one with silver hair isn't strong, but she's a good liar, so don't listen to what she says. Got it?"
"Hmm... But you were classmates, right?"
"fart?"
"I don't know him, so it's fine for me, but he's like a friend to Reze, right? Are you sure you want to defeat him?"
"What can you do? They're the enemy."
"Hmm..."
"Hey, Denji?"
I snatched one of the boy's belongings from him, as he looked somewhat dissatisfied.
"You can't just do anything you want. Denji, you're a devil hunter working for the Public Safety Bureau, so you have to think about your responsibilities."
"What's that?"
"Nayuta-chan is probably being targeted too. Is it okay if she gets kidnapped?"
"So, that means... I should take it seriously?"
"That's right."
Being an adult means swallowing a little dissatisfaction in order to protect the life you have now.
I gazed at Denji's profile as he walked on the other side, with Nayuta between us.
...I betrayed my country on a whim, but I'm willing to do anything to continue this life.
"Well, you see..."
I stepped onto the magnificent arch bridge spanning the gorge, gazed at the opposite bank, and took a step forward.
"Up until now, I've never made any decisions for myself; I've just lived according to what others told me to do. The only thing I ever decided was what to eat for lunch. Deep down, I thought I'd never be able to date a woman until I died."
"...What's this all of a sudden?"
Denji gazes at the desolate town and the terminal station in the distance. This is the innermost part of Tokyo.
But the road continues, into the depths of the densely forested mountains.
"I'm living a dream life now. But I still have a long way to go. I want to try so many more things."
Once you leave populated areas, the mountain path becomes even steeper. There are no houses to rest in.
But once you overcome the arduous journey of tens of kilometers, you'll arrive in the neighboring prefecture. There, you'll find a thriving town, where a culture just a little bit different from Tokyo will welcome you.
"I've made up my mind. I'm not just going to help myself, I'm going to help the people around me a little too. It makes me feel bad when I see everyone looking so gloomy."
"Hmm... Well, that's fine, but you're talking like you have a girlfriend. Who is it?"
"Huh? Well, that is,
"I didn't know that. So, Denji has a girlfriend now. Did Nayuta know?"
"I didn't know either. Congratulations, Denji."
"What?"
Denji stopped in the middle of a large bridge, his mouth agape. It was the face of a man who had bet a large sum of money on a horse he was absolutely certain would win, only for it to fail at the start of the race.
"fool"
"Idiot"
"W-what is it?"
"I'm telling you to face reality. You don't get it, do you?"
"Trying to look cool"
"What?! I'm not stupid!"
"You're an idiot, aren't you?"
"Super stupid"
"What did you say?!"
Nayuta and I both shrugged at the same time.
Then, a strange sound was heard.
Creak
"yeah?"
look back.
Something resembling a thorny string is wrapped around the bridge railing.
I feel like I've seen this somewhere before. A chain with thorns...
"Gyaahahahaha!!"
Someone leaps up from beneath the bridge with great force.
He spun around in mid-air, landed on the asphalt of the bridge like a superhero, then deliberately turned around, paused for a few seconds saying "Heh heh heh...", and then turned back sharply.
"My name is! My name... my name!? Who am I, who am I!?"
In the afternoon valley, a man stood in the middle of an arch bridge, bathed in the early summer sun.
A man with a chainsaw, a weapon growing from above his forehead. A hero from hell who has slain countless demons.
The demon most feared by other demons --
"I'm Chainsaw Man! Hayakawa Denji! I'm going to punish you!!"
Bam!
I slowly, slowly trace the fingertip that is pointed at me.
Denji moved his mouth in a daze.
"Chainsaw Man...?"
Both arms are equipped with rotating demonic blades.
Sharp fangs and a distinctive metallic head.
"That's me..."
I cautiously looked around.
There was no one on either side of the bridge spanning the deep gorge. I also checked the riverbank below, but there was no one there either.
This guy is alone. He came to attack all by himself.
Denji, the real Chainsaw Man, Bomb Girl, and the Control Devil have challenged each other head-on to a battle.
"Ah, what... there are two of me now?!"
"Yuyuyu U S A! U S A! I want about 10 girlfriends!!"
He was incredibly stupid.