The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#294 Cat Pago (7) - Diary, Second Chapter There's a superstition that ghosts love ghost stories. They say that if you talk a lot about ghost stories, they'll notice 'like a ghost' and come find you. There's also a psychological term called the frequency illusion. The human brain has a tendency to selectively accept only the information it has recently recognized or assigned meaning to from the vast amount pouring in. So, even things you'd normally overlook unconsciously, once you become aware of their existence, suddenly start to appear abnormally often in your daily life. It's impossible to know which one is the right answer. What's certain is that recently, stories presumably related to 'The Fortune Teller' have started flooding into Popuri's ears. ─When I opened the door in the morning to go to work, a red, gooey spread was smeared all over the front gate. It turned out to be minced meat made from dozens of ground-up rats. ─While walking down the street, a lady was handing out toast to passersby, telling them to eat and cheer up. When I opened it to check the contents before eating, I found crispy fried earthworms mixed in with the other ingredients. When I confronted her, she denied it with a straight face and fled. ─While I was waiting for the light to change at a crosswalk, someone suddenly shoved me hard from behind, and I was almost hit by a car. After narrowly surviving, I looked back and saw someone hastily fleeing. Popuri knew that ghost stories were a double-edged sword; the more you knew, the better you could respond, but the easier it was to get entangled. She didn't want to hear such things if she could avoid it, but the stories followed her everywhere, from school to her daily life, leaving her no choice. "It is bizarre. But if the damage increases to this extent, shouldn't the police or politicians get seriously involved?" At Pago's remark, Popuri just shrugged. "That's unlikely to happen. At most, the local police will probably just do a few patrols and call it a day." "Why?" "It's hard for me to answer if you ask me why...." Adults are naturally strangely indifferent to these kinds of incidents, and society even more so. No matter how many bizarre incidents occur simultaneously, the media and the police will inevitably find a 'realistic' cause and analyze it from that angle. The mouse spread will be written off as 'the bizarre act of a patient with severe schizophrenia.' The earthworm toast as 'an act of terrorism by a new cult.' The random shoving as 'intermittent explosive disorder or the side effects of a new drug.' The only ones chattering excitedly about ghost stories and the Fortuneteller's deeds are teenagers, who are at the right age for it, and a handful of adults. To Popuri, it was just a normal aspect of society, nothing strange, but Pago seemed lost in thought, muttering in a voice too low for her to hear. She thought she heard words like 'worldview' and 'homeostasis,' but honestly, she wasn't sure. "If you're going to talk to yourself, can you please do it somewhere else? It's distracting. It's even more annoying when I can just barely hear you." "You, Blackie, you call yourself gentle and mild, but you have a surprisingly sharp tongue. Should I say you're black-hearted, or that you're a volcano disguised as an ordinary mountain?" "I'm taking the salmon out of your meal today." "Responding to a statement of fact with a threat, isn't that a bit petty? Huh?" Popuri lightly brushed off the complaints coming from beside her. Pago, too, seemed to give up, sighed, and changed the subject. "So, what are you going to do now?" "What do you mean?" "Do you not know, or have you already noticed and are just pretending not to? I'm talking about 'the Fortuneteller'." This time, it was Popuri's turn to groan. She frowned deeply and said. "How about just living on without getting involved? With things like ghost stories and apparitions, it's best not to have any connection at all." "Well. If you want to say, 'The fire hasn't reached my house yet, so it's not a problem!' even as the distant fire gradually burns everything around you and closes in... I guess that's your choice." "If you want to call me an idiot, just say it. Don't beat around the bush like that." "Alright, idiot." A vein bulged slightly on Popuri's hand. She said, somewhat curtly. "Then what am I supposed to do? With the stretching stairs last time, it was happening in a different space, so I could at least escape back to reality. But this is happening right here in the real world. Are you telling me to move or something?" "It seems like there's no answer because you're only thinking about running away. You need to counterattack." "Ha, didn't you hear the story? Ignore the fortune, and you face ruin. Get your fortune told and don't pay the price, you face ruin. Get your fortune told and pay the price, someone else faces ruin. They're all dead-end choices, you see?" Popuri kicked a small stone with the tip of her foot. "Besides, there's a high chance the baseball bat won't work this time. These kinds of rule-enforcing apparitions are usually immune to that type of violence." "Apparitions, by their very nature, should be annihilated by the heat of cannons." "You know it's incredibly weird for a cat apparition to be saying that, right?" After some light banter, Pago spoke. "Yes, you're right, Blackie. In this ghost story, the very situation of 'encountering the Fortuneteller on the street' is like stepping onto the apparition's stage. And since you're on stage, any action that doesn't fit the setting is strongly restricted." "So then?" Though she replied as if uninterested, Popuri's ears were perked. "Then it's simple. You just have to ruin the quality of the stage. To the point where the audience thinks, 'Ugh, the premise of this play is a total mess'." "Specifically?" "Its identity is 'a fortuneteller whose predictions are uncannily accurate,' right? So accurate that an ominous prophecy will come true no matter how you try to avoid it. In other words, without that absolute nature of its predictions, it's just a silver-tongued con artist." "Hmm." Popuri was lost in thought for a moment. The Fortuneteller's specialty lies in its absolute prophecies. So, deny that absoluteness. Huh? Popuri tilted her head. I think the math teacher talked about something similar during a casual chat to lighten the mood. That was definitely— "Hey, young lady passing by. Stop and have your fortune told." —An elderly voice struck Popuri's ears. Reflexively turning her head, Popuri flinched and took a step back. A large, dark purple robe. The face hidden in the robe's shadow was so deeply and bizarrely obscured that she couldn't see anything above the mouth, no matter how hard she tried. One could only guess its advanced age from the wrinkles on its lower jaw and the back of its exposed hand. There was no need to ask who it was. Her eyes had already seen through it as an apparition mimicking a human, and its distinctive appearance was that of the main character from the stories she had been hearing to death recently. The apparition, 'the Fortuneteller,' curled the corners of its lips visible beneath the shadows and asked again. "Young lady, have your fortune told. Your eyes are so brilliant, I shall treat you as a person of honor." Could there be any other 'honored guest' treatment as unwelcome as this? Popuri quickly scanned her surroundings. The white cat who always gave her advice was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't an escape. No, if anything, it was more likely that Pago was still where he had been, and she was the one who had been dragged away. As if to prove it, the surrounding scenery was incredibly bizarre. The texture of the road, its state of wear, the color of the exterior walls, the style of the buildings—they were all familiar. However, if asked specifically where in the neighborhood this was, she wouldn't be able to answer. Because it was just an imitation in the first place, not a real part of her neighborhood. Pago's advice that encountering the Fortuneteller was itself stepping onto its stage came back to her. "Now, come here. I'll read your fortune. Quickly." The Fortuneteller spoke again, as if rushing her. Popuri firmly shut her mouth, which had been about to refuse reflexively. Refusing the fortune was a non-starter. The entity would mockingly prophesize her 'unfortunate future' as it pleased, and it would inevitably come true. The thought of kicking it in the jaw before it could say anything crossed her mind, but it didn't seem like it would work. Popuri's mind raced, picking up the train of thought that had been interrupted earlier. She'd thought of something plausible, but honestly, she wasn't confident it would work. Is this the right way? Might this not lead to an even worse outcome? There was also the option of simply accepting the fortune obediently. She would have to perform an act that inconvenienced others as payment for the fortune, but as long as she could skillfully evade the law, at least Popuri herself would be safe. 'Bullshit.' Decisively cutting off the thought that had momentarily surfaced in her mind with a spirited rebellion, Popuri asked. "A fortune? Can you predict anything?" "Of course. My fortunes are very powerful. What is it you wish to know?" The Fortuneteller's voice was very gentle. It was thickly laced with the twisted superiority and sadism of one looking at a victim already in its grasp. Therefore, Popuri opened her mouth. "Please answer with 'yes' or 'no.' Are you destined to answer 'no' to my question right now?" The Fortuneteller mumbled, about to answer. But then, it stopped moving as if it had suddenly frozen solid. Let's consider the possibilities for a moment. The Fortuneteller answers 'yes'. Then the Fortuneteller has predicted that [it will answer 'no' to this question]. But since it answered 'yes,' the prediction is wrong. The Fortuneteller answers 'no'. Then the Fortuneteller has predicted that [it will not answer 'no' to this question]. But since it answered 'no,' the prediction is wrong. "Urk, keok, ugh...!" The Fortuneteller's exposed lower jaw, not hidden by shadow, rippled and distorted like a boiling swamp. Inside the large robe, the fabric bizarrely swelled and deflated as if dozens, or even hundreds, of giant insects were writhing and crawling inside, letting out a scream. Trembling like a leaf, it soon clenched its fist and slammed it on the table where the crystal ball sat. "N-null and void! This is void! This is void! How can such sophistry be allowed!" Indeed, it was just as it said. If you asked a real fortuneteller such a question, you'd have no grounds to complain if you were treated like a problem customer and thrown out. But then again, this apparition in front of her was a vicious criminal who engaged in kidnapping and coercion. Popuri was more than willing to be a problem customer. "Oh? You just dodged the question, didn't you? I see. You said you were a miraculous seer who could predict any future, but it seems there are things you can't predict after all." "Sh-sh-shut up!!" The robe was thrown back and slid down. With every word Popuri spoke, the shabby old man's face turned from red to purple. The Fortuneteller screamed, filled with malice. "For the price of daring to mock me, you shall be cursed! Tomorrow, during morning assembly! In front of all the students, you will jump from the school rooftop and kill yourself!! That is your future!!" The Fortuneteller's voice was imbued with a powerful force. Ordinary people would see nothing, but Popuri's 'eyes' clearly saw a scene of bizarre, chain-like things slithering like snakes to tightly bind her limbs. An absolute prophecy. No, a forced execution of its words. A future that could not be avoided, no matter what she did. But Popuri did not despair. It might have been different if it were in a perfect state, but the Fortuneteller's prophecy had already been broken once. As proof, the chains binding Popuri had cracks all over them. Popuri scanned her surroundings again. The alley scenery, which had been so stable yet alien, was now shimmering like a heat haze, flickering in and out of reality. And from beyond that haze, something came flying toward Popuri with a whoosh! Catching the heavy baseball bat, Popuri let out a wry laugh, thinking, 'When did he have time to go home and get this?' Well, it was just what she needed. Popuri moved her arms and legs about. It was a bit cumbersome because of the chains, but she could move well enough. "So I'm going to kill myself by jumping from the school tomorrow?" "That's right! You will end your own life!!" "Then, let me ask one more thing. Try and predict this with that oh-so-great prophecy of yours." Popuri declared. "Am I going to smash the right side of your head with this baseball bat, or the left side? For your information, I'm going to hit the opposite side of whichever you answer. And as a bonus, I'll take any other nonsense as you saying 'left'." "Nonsense—" "Yes, that means left, right? I heard you. Mr. Con Artist, whose predictions are never correct." The moment she swung the baseball bat, Popuri felt a sensation as if her body was trying to move against her will. To be precise, the chains wrapped around her limbs were pulling, trying to forcibly change the direction of her attack. 'This would have been dangerous if the chains were intact,' Popuri thought. If she had asked this question from the start, her opponent would likely have forced her actions to fulfill the prophecy of 'hitting the left.' And since the prophecy would have come true, a physical attack would naturally have been ineffective. But not now. Popuri forcibly snapped the already tattered chains of prophecy and, contrary to the prediction, struck the 'right' side. The unsatisfying impact felt like hitting an empty leather sack. The damage from the blow itself was negligible, but the effect of having its prophecy negated twice in a row was absolute. The Fortuneteller's body exploded with a pop, starting from the head she had struck. Soon, the remnants of the chains on Popuri's body and the surrounding scenery itself all washed away, and reality returned. "Looks like you handled it well. See? Just because they're apparitions doesn't mean they're invincible." Pago, who had been waiting in reality, climbed onto her shoulder and spoke. As if what just happened didn't feel real, Popuri clenched and unclenched her fist, muttering blankly. "Is the apparition... really gone now?" "It might not be completely annihilated. Even if it's gone, there's a chance it could be revived. But, at least for a while, it won't be able to use its power." In other words, the safety of Popuri and the people in her neighborhood had been secured. Not by evasion or escape, but by succeeding in neutralizing it, even if only temporarily. At that fact, Popuri felt a strange sense of inspiration. …Not long after, sightings of 'the Fortuneteller' vanished. --- --- --- 『The Fortune Teller』 An apparition in a purple robe that drags passersby into its domain and forces them to have their fortune told. If one refuses, a terrible future is prophesied, and it is absolutely unavoidable. If one agrees, they can receive an absolute prophecy in response to a question, but they are required to perform an act that harms others as payment. Refusing to pay the price likewise leads to a terrible end. The solution is to agree to the fortune telling, then ask a question the Fortuneteller cannot answer. However, be warned that if the Fortuneteller's power is intact, there is a possibility of the future being forcibly executed. For example, if you ask, 'Will I hit you or not?' and the Fortuneteller answers that you won't, and you then try to break the prophecy by hitting it, the 'future of not hitting' itself will be enforced, fulfilling the prophecy, and you may have to pay the price all the same. Therefore, a question that minimizes the room for intervention, such as ['Please answer with 'yes' or 'no.' Are you destined to answer 'no' to my question right now?'], is advisable. --- --- ---