The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#306 Cat Pago (19) - Fragments of Malice It slept. It is lost in sleep. It dreams. It dreams a very pleasant dream. A dream where people die from human malice. A dream where people die from human fantasies. You masses who refuse to see the truth. You masses who love to chatter with your mouths. You wicked ones who irresponsibly criticize, irresponsibly consume, and irresponsibly turn away. If you say the truth doesn't matter at all. If you'll chatter that even if it's false, as long as it's enjoyable, that's good enough. Die in fiction. Die buried in fiction. Die becoming fiction. It slept. It is deep in sleep. It dreams. But why is it? It suddenly felt an itch around its forearm. It slightly opens its eyelids to look at its forearm, but there's nothing particularly visible. Perhaps, or maybe. Compared to 'it', something so small and tiny that it might not even be able to perceive it. So, it scratched its forearm hard. Then it felt as if the itch had subsided a little. It - the one that had stepped into the stage called Transcendence long ago - fell back into sleep. Ah, may more humans suffer this time. *** "...Wow. This one is really a big shot, isn't it?" "No matter how skilled that guy is, if he approaches this as a game, not just his clone but even his real body might be in danger?" *** "It's been too scary lately. Don't you think so too, Hanamori?" Hinosaka said while tapping the smartphone screen. It was a light tone, as if talking about the ending of a drama she watched yesterday or a new convenience store sandwich she ate this morning. But Popuri had to run her brain's processing unit at full capacity to digest that one short sentence. One of the kinds of fatigue that loners like Popuri feel when talking to popular people is exactly this. Because information that popular people consider 'so frequently discussed with others that there's no need to mention the subject' is often completely new information that loners have never heard before. If you really think about it, it's similar to the feeling when conversations like "Get that thing!" "Uh, that!" "Got it!" happen right in front of you, and you want to unconsciously interject with "What the heck is 'that'?" "...What is?" In the end, the question Popuri uttered was short. That subtle sense of defeat when admitting you don't know something you don't know. The unique defense mechanism of loners who have to endure the look of 'you don't even know that?' was activated, but fortunately Hinosaka was someone with the character to reflect on her own actions rather than blame Popuri. "Oh, sorry! I was being too vague. It's just that there's been a lot of disturbing things in the world lately. Random murders where there are no traces of the perpetrator, cars that suddenly crash into strange places while running perfectly fine, and unexplained mass coma incidents." Hinosaka showed her some web articles on her phone. It wasn't that she didn't use phones, but it was an area that Popuri, who basically preferred analog books, didn't usually utilize much. "Certainly, it is rather ominous." "Right? Originally, these kinds of sinister incidents tend to influence each other and become more extreme once they start happening. Could it be getting worse because of that?" Popuri fell into thought for a moment. Certainly, it's true that when society is unsettled, criminals go even more crazy, and articles tend to focus only on such things, making incidents seem more frequent. It is true, but. '...I can strangely sense traces of those ghost story creatures.' However, that was also strange. Certainly, ghost stories and supernatural beings cause harm to humans. They do cause harm, but at the same time, they don't usually cause mass damage to the extent that it would be openly revealed in society like this. But this is, how should I put it, doesn't it look like someone pushed the supernatural creatures from behind, telling them to rampage more? Feeling somewhat uneasy, Popuri unconsciously looked up at the sky. The sky is vast and blue. If that blueness were the color of eyes, surely that existence would find it hard to even perceive someone like Popuri. 'Huh?' Did she originally enjoy using such sensitive and poetic expressions? While Popuri tilted her head in confusion, Hinosaka said. "Anyway, how about we go to an art museum together for a change of mood? They say at times like these when things are brutal, you need to soothe your mind with art!" "...By any chance, do you mean something like you happened to get tickets so let's go together?" "Huh? No. It's just a free exhibition. They're opening it for a limited time." "Don't art museums make money from admission fees?" "Maybe they're opening it temporarily for a few days for publicity? They could create differentiation by displaying important works only during paid periods." After that, Popuri immersed herself back into conversation with Hinosaka. The doubt that had briefly occurred to her was already forgotten from her mind. *** About 5 days later. Popuri was on the train with Pago. Feeling the weight of the living creature from the bag in her arms, Popuri let out a low sigh. "The art museum will prohibit cats anyway, so why do you insist on coming along?" "Wherever I go is my choice, isn't it?" "That's because you're using me as transportation." "You're fulfilling your duty as a servant. Do better, meow." At the shameless voice coming from inside the bag, Popuri snorted as if dumbfounded, then suddenly looked around her surroundings. She had put on wireless earphones to create an excuse like 'oh, she's talking to someone on the phone right now', but still, there might be people who would find it strange. "...Huh?" And then, she realized. The student who had been looking at a smartphone until just now, the female office worker with a briefcase, the elderly man who had been nodding off. They were all sitting perfectly upright in their seats, with both hands placed on their knees, staring straight ahead. Not saying a word, not moving at all, just like that. It wasn't just the passengers that were strange. The smooth flooring of the train had somehow changed into old, rusted and blood-stained iron plates, and the seats that should have been soft had changed into cold, rough wooden chairs. Outside the windows, instead of ordinary subway tunnel walls, bizarrely smiling clown paintings and faded amusement park neon signs were rushing past at high speed. Like cheap ghost houses and train rides in abandoned amusement parks. Popuri took the wireless earphones out of her ears. Clunk, clunk. The regular noise of the train had changed to a muffled sound, as if heard underwater. Then, with crackling sounds, an announcement echoed. [Next is... Slicing Sashimi. Slicing Sashimi. There are no doors for getting off.] An ominous train. And an ominous announcement. There was no way Popuri, who was rich in ghost story knowledge, wouldn't know what this phenomenon was. Monkey Dream. Popuri reflexively gripped her middle finger and pulled it straight back until the fingertip touched the back of her hand. An action that should succeed without any pain if it were a dream. "Ugh." But when she tried to bend her finger beyond a certain point, intense resistance and pain overwhelmed Popuri. "This isn't a dream!?" As if mocking Popuri's escape attempt, the connecting car door opened and dwarfs - no, monkeys wearing human clothes - appeared with sharp weapons in their hands. The hair on their entire bodies was sparsely fallen out, revealing hideous skin, and in their bizarrely distorted faces like humans', there were only empty black holes instead of pupils. Through their torn lips, they bared sharp teeth, holding rusty kitchen knives, scalpels, and hook-like weapons in both hands while giggling. Even as they approached with their bladed weapons, the elderly man who had become their target neither resisted nor fled, just maintaining his upright sitting posture. Popuri gripped the baseball bat that had now become practically a set with her bag, carrying it having become a way of life. And she swung it hard at the head of one of the four monkeys. Clang! But the effect Popuri had expected didn't occur. The monkey hit by the bat looked at Popuri with blank, hollow eyes like tree holes as if it had taken no damage at all, then soon showed a fishy sneer at the corner of its mouth. "This is...!" Bewilderment and slight frustration settled on Popuri's face. Because she was rich in ghost story knowledge, she immediately understood this situation. Monkey Dream is essentially a supernatural entity with a narrative where passengers aboard an unidentified train in a dream are unilaterally slaughtered by monkeys according to the content of bizarre announcements. There is no content anywhere about passengers fighting back against the monkeys or defeating the monkeys in return. If we must discuss countermeasures, it would be to recognize the Monkey Dream as a dream and 'wake up' to reality, but that's what Popuri just attempted and failed. In other words, there is no way to deal with it. It was the moment Popuri was about to reach that conclusion. "Don't just stand there dazed, keep hitting it, Blackie!! Are you not going to attack just because its defense is a bit high!!" Defense. The moment she heard that expression, strength entered Popuri's hands. If the opponent's durability wasn't some kind of absolute law. If it was just tougher and more resistant to impact. That was just an obstacle that could be overcome and defeated. The moment Popuri recognized it that way, the diary in Popuri's bag emitted a strange wave. The wave settled into Popuri and her baseball bat, but Popuri herself didn't realize this fact. Popuri twisted her body greatly. And with about twice the rotation of her previous attack, she smashed the baseball bat into the monkey's face again. Thwack!! This time it wasn't a dull metallic sound. The extremely physical and destructive friction sound of flesh and bone being crushed echoed through the train car. The monkey that was struck in the head spun through the air and tumbled to the floor. Instead of red blood, something like black ink dripped from its crushed cheek. It works!! At that fact, the corners of Popuri's mouth curled up and confidence filled her eyes. In contrast, the monkeys showed a slightly flustered expression, but then the announcement echoed again. [Due to work interference and cutting in line, the order will be changed. Next is slicing sashimi and carving out. Slicing sashimi and carving out. Passengers, please calmly follow the instructions] Right after the announcement, the second monkey swung the rusty scalpel it was holding broadly toward Popuri. Screeeech! With a chilling metallic sound, sparks flew between the bat and scalpel. At the same time, the third and fourth monkeys, who had somehow gotten sharp-ended spoons, thrust the spoons toward Popuri's eyes. Popuri rolled backwards to dodge the attack. Unlike their heavily rusted appearance, their sharpness seemed tremendous, as hair that had barely touched the blades fell rustling down. Just as Popuri was about to counterattack again, Pago's voice echoed. "Next is monkey brain smashing, monkey brain smashing. There are no doors to escape." The announcement system responded with a crackling sound. But before the announcement system could broadcast a new message, Popuri's swung bat struck the monkey's head again. This time it went beyond just being hit and falling backward like before - the head became concave as if the entire skull had been crushed. [Currently fake announcements are being broadcast. Passengers, we hope you will not be confused. The real next is human carving out, human carving out.] "We inform all passengers. The broadcast is proceeding very normally. Please feel reassured and trust us. Next is batting hits, batting hits." While the announcement and Pago's fake broadcast were echoing as if competing with each other. Popuri unconsciously smiled. It didn't seem like she would lose.