The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#Chapter 315 Cat Pago (28) - Mother The rooftop of a tall building. Pago looked down at the ground with languid eyes. A world very similar to the Crown Prince's previous life. But a world filled with far more malice than that. When Pago first looked down at this world, the cityscape felt exactly like a giant haunted house. On the roads, in houses, in forests, in graveyards, in schools, in police stations, in train stations—anomalies existed in almost every place human imagination could reach, and they leisurely kept their posts like fishermen, mercilessly hooking humans the moment they entered their territory. But if you asked whether it was safe as long as you didn't head toward their territories, that wasn't the case either. It was common for anomalies to go find and torment humans on their own, or even to live mixed in among humans. So then, what about now? "...Instead of the guests getting scared and screaming obediently, they're now seeking out the specters one by one, beating them up, and kidnapping them. What a nuisance, there's no other nuisance like it." Even while speaking sarcastically, Pago's voice seemed very delighted. Of course it had to be that way. Because the city landscape visible to his eyes now was completely different from before. Anomalies are being pushed out. Anomalies are being swept away. One by one. But certainly. The more substantial the contents of Popuri's diary became, the more anomalies fell from being overwhelming predators to something that could be fought against, dealt with, and even hunted. Of course, the level was still weak. Even when people other than Popuri attempted exorcism clumsily, they succeeded about once out of ten times, the technology for managing anomalies was insufficient, and the organization could hardly be said to have properly established a system. If we assumed this world was one giant human body, it was at most like a very, very tiny tumor appearing somewhere under the skin. Perhaps if much more time passed it might be different, but in the current state it was far too insufficient to be called a disease that could threaten the creator god of this world. The problem is. Even if it's just a tumor, it's enough for the owner of that body to notice it. Pago looked up at the sky. He felt a gaze. The owner of this world was recognizing and staring at the disease that had appeared in their body. They wouldn't move directly. From the 'Dreaming God's perspective, this was happening inside their own body. Just because an illness has appeared inside, they can't suddenly stab their own body with their own hands, can they? Instead, those who act on behalf of the god's will would move. Like the body's immune system. To annihilate Popuri, Pago, and the flow they had created. "─You've really held back for a long time." Only Pago himself knew who he was speaking to. *** There's a saying that life is like the old man who lost his horse. If something good happens, something bad will surely happen, and if something bad happens, something good will come too. In that regard, Popuri's recent daily life had been mostly a series of 'good things.' She no longer had to be tense about everything, not knowing when she might be killed by anomalies like before. Her always tight household budget situation had also improved to the point where even buying a decent cat tower or two wouldn't make a dent, thanks to the chairman's support and layers of quest rewards. And she knew very well who was responsible for all this. That day, at that time, at that hospital. The white cat she met in the drawer. The advisor who told her that anomalies were not beings to run away from and avoid, but beings to fight and exorcise. In some sense, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him a benefactor─ "Blackie, if you walk around spacing out like that, you'll go down in one hit. Since beating things with a baseball bat every day has become routine, has even your brain turned into a baseball bat now?" ─I correct myself. As expected, he was a damn supernatural cat. She quickly snatched up Pago from the ground and lifted him with both hands. "Whose brain is a baseball bat? Besides, normally you'd say things like udon noodles or spaghetti in situations like this, wouldn't you? What exactly do you have to do for a brain to become a baseball bat!" "If you ask how to do it, look in a mirror." "I might really hit a home run with you instead of a baseball." "Don't you know the concept of animal abuse?" "I don't even consider anomalies' human rights, so why should I consider an anomaly's animal rights?" The two of them were in the middle of their usual banter. Ding, a light notification sound. While holding Pago up with just her left hand, Popuri checked her phone. [─Daughter. Still, it's vacation, shouldn't you come and at least show your face? Your mother is really looking forward to it too.] "Ugh." Something like a groan escaped from Popuri's mouth. Whoosh. After escaping from Popuri's hands and landing on her shoulder, Pago peered at the message. "Is that your father?" "...Yes." "But your expression isn't good. Well, you've always particularly disliked stories related to home." "...Yes." "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to." Popuri was silent for a moment. Then she answered. "No, I'll explain." *** It's something that happened when I was young. Not long after I first learned about the existence of anomalies. When an anomaly that had swapped existence with one of my friends was so terrifying that even after moving, I was trying hard to forget that memory. I came home after school ended. Then I felt signs of someone in the kitchen. Mom greeted me saying "Popuri, are you back?" So I was about to answer "yes," when suddenly I heard a loud voice from the second floor. "No! Popuri! Don't go to the kitchen! Come to the second floor!!" I froze. Because the voice coming from the second floor was exactly the same as mom's voice. The mom in the kitchen, as if she couldn't hear that sound at all, said "Popuri, what are you doing? Aren't you coming in?" Knife sounds kept coming from the kitchen. At regular intervals, continuously. Maybe she was cooking, but it felt too ominous to me. Mom's voice kept coming from the second floor too. "Popuri! You can't go there!! Come up!!" Like that. But between the voices from the second floor, there were sounds like chains mixed in. As if she was tied up and couldn't come down. I thought. Is the mom in the kitchen real? So I can't hear the ghost sounds she's hearing? Is the mom on the second floor real? Does she want to help me but is tied up so she can only shout with words? But that worry was meaningless. Because a text message came to my phone shortly after. [Popuri, I'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry? I bought sushi so wait just a little.] It was mom's number. It was mom's text. Pago, you know what? When I experienced that, I was still in elementary school. An age when family is most precious and you have to rely heavily on your parents. I fell into confusion. Which of the three was the real mom? No, was there even a real mom? What if all three were actually anomalies? So I ran away. Without choosing any of them, even though I had nowhere particular to go, I just ran away blindly. I got tired from running and was crying while hugging my knees in an alley, when a patrolling police officer found me and took me to the police station. Not long after, dad came to pick me up. Since I was just blankly sniffling, he didn't ask about the situation and just patted me comfortingly. He said that whatever it was, everything was fine now. To feel safe because dad was by my side. Then I really did feel safe. Seeing that dad was fine, things must really be okay. Whatever it was, it must all be resolved. I just saw something strange again, and mom was fine from the beginning. That's what it was. That's what I thought. As if this damn world would work out that conveniently. When I went home, 'mom' was waiting for me. It wasn't an anomaly. Even to my eyes, she was just an ordinary person. But. It wasn't mom. Her appearance and voice were completely different from the mom I remembered. But dad treated that person like 'mom.' That 'mom' also treated dad exactly the way mom usually did. And 'mom' comforted me with the exact same tone and way of speaking that my mom used to. A completely different person with different appearance and voice. What's even more ridiculous is that everything had changed. The image of mom in family photos had changed to that 'mom's appearance. Neighbors, people in the neighborhood, relatives, at school—everyone treated 'mom' exactly like mom. As if nothing had changed at all. I thought of that anomaly I had first seen. I couldn't help but think of it. But that anomaly, I could tell it was an anomaly with my own eyes. But 'mom' wasn't like that. She appeared to be a perfect human. She was just a person I didn't know. So what's wrong here? Are my memories wrong? Everyone else is right, but I'm the only one who remembers differently? Are my eyes wrong? Is it actually an anomaly, but one that hides so well that it looks ordinary even to my eyes? Or is everyone except me wrong? But what's the difference between that and me being wrong? If everyone else are One-Eyed, aren't the Two-Eyed the monsters? I couldn't reach a conclusion. I couldn't treat 'mom' as mom, couldn't conclude she was a monster, and just kept awkwardly keeping my distance. The conversations within our reasonably harmonious family gradually decreased. 'Mom' too, seeing her daughter suddenly keeping distance and being afraid of her, visibly became more and more tired. But what could I do? I couldn't reach a conclusion either. I couldn't tell if that person really was my mom and I was going crazy right now, or if it was a monster imitating and acting like a human. It felt like we'd all go crazy like this, so even though I wasn't an adult yet, I started living on my own early. I got money from dad. Even after that, I had nightmares about that day dozens of times. I chose the mom in the kitchen and ran to the kitchen, only to be stabbed by a monster that was cutting human meat. I chose the mom on the second floor and ran upstairs, only to have a monster with a snake-like long neck rattle chains while strangling me. I believed the text message and contacted her to meet, only to have a woman with her mouth torn to her ears come flying through the air flailing and bite me. After that, well, I tried to avoid ghost stories by researching them and telling kids about countermeasures, got treated like a weird kid, developed distrust of humans and social anxiety, recovered somewhat thanks to Hinosaka, and lived aimlessly like that. Living... until I met you, Pago. That's the end of the story.