1. Green Killer (64.5th Time)

 

(0/25)

 

<Bloody Pirates>—The game was reaching its climax.

 

(1/25)

 

A battle cry, resembling a great wave, roared out.

 

There were dozens of them in total. All of them were voices released from the throats of young girls. <Bloody Pirates>—in this game themed around bloodstained pirates, as the name suggested, it was only natural that the players were dressed in pirate costumes. Some wore bandanas on their heads, some wore pirate hats, some wore eyepatches, some wore simple outfits consisting only of blunt clothes and a loincloth, some wore long jackets with frilly chest ornaments that looked incredibly self-important, some wore clothes with unnaturally exposed chests that definitely didn't exist among historical pirates, some held thick and rugged sabers, some held slightly thinner and elegant cutlasses, and some gripped flintlock pistols instead of swords. The details varied from person to person, but everyone was uniformly dressed like a pirate and shouting energetically.

 

They weren't just shouting. It was a war cry. The girls were about to commence a very pirate-like act of plunder. They were boarding another ship that had drawn dangerously close to their own—having stretched out nets with hooks to firmly grasp it and prevent escape—one after another.

 

On that ship being boarded—was Yuki.

 

"...This is pretty scary..."

 

Seeing the approaching enemy force, Yuki stated her impression.

 

She looked around.

 

There were dozens of players on the ship Yuki was riding as well. These were not enemies, but allies. They were comrades who had been sailing on the same ship for the past week. Everyone, including Yuki, was clad in pirate gear, holding weapons in their hands, and had already completed preparations for the battle about to begin.

 

<Bloody Pirates>—this game was staged in the vastest territory Yuki had ever experienced. After all, a specific area of the entire ocean was the game stage. The rule was a pirate-like scramble for treasure. Many ships prowled the stage, and each had to attack other ships to steal treasure, increasing their hoard from the initial amount before taking it to port. There were other elements to color the game, such as buying and selling food and crew members, but there was no longer any need to worry about such things. As long as they survived this final battle, as long as they protected their ship's treasure to the end, the game would be cleared.

 

"It feels completely like we're real pirates now..."

 

A voice came from the side. Yuki looked toward the voice.

 

Airi was standing there.

 

A player with indigo eyes, and an acquaintance of Yuki. She, too, was dressed in a pirate outfit, and while adjusting the position of the bandana wrapped around her head, she continued speaking.

 

"It should only have been about a week since the game started..." Airi said. "Do pirate mannerisms really become second nature in such a short time...?"

 

"I guess it means the environment changes the person..." Yuki answered.

 

Yuki and her crew were in no position to talk about others. Though not as intense as the other side, the players on this ship were also raising their weapons and shouting to boost morale. If you are rocked by a ship from morning to night for a week in pirate costumes, your personality will likely change somewhat. Naturally, if your background is something as dangerous as a player in a murder game, even more so.

 

While she was thinking about such things, the battle began.

 

The sound of swords clashing, the sound of pistols firing, the screams of those receiving wounds and the cheers of those inflicting them could be heard from here and there. Dozens of crew members from each ship scrambled for each other's lives.

 

Yuki also joined the fray. She quickly cut down one of the attacking enemy players—who was carrying a saber—with the saber she held in her own hand.

 

Snatching the weapon and now wielding dual sabers, Yuki looked around once more. The spectacle of battle filling her entire field of vision—it would not be a wise move to simply throw herself blindly into this. A melee of this sort is a volatile thing. If you gain momentum, you can win surprisingly easily, but if you let the opponent get carried away, the tide will instantly turn toward defeat. Individual strength doesn't matter much; what's important is the atmosphere dominating the field. The flow. How does one reel that in?

 

—Take the head. That would be best. In any group, there is a person in a leadership position. There must be one on the other ship too. Defeat them, advertise that fact grandly, and chip away at the opponent's morale. A simple and powerful plan.

 

Yuki looked for a likely candidate. Since no one would be wearing a name tag, it was only a guess based on observation, but—she's probably not over here, Yuki concluded. She hasn't come to this ship. She doesn't seem to be the type to go out to the front lines herself. So, Yuki used the net the enemy had used to cross over and moved to the other ship.

 

That meant jumping into the enemy camp alone.

 

Although the majority had mobilized to attack Yuki's ship—there were still a decent number of players remaining. Having been keeping watch on the deck, the moment they saw Yuki's intrusion, they attacked in unison. While handling them with her dual sabers, Yuki directed her observing eye and judged that the enemy general was probably not among them either. Not on the deck. Was she waiting indoors? Around the time she concluded this, she had knocked down several of them, and the remaining girls who hadn't been taken down showed signs of flinching, so Yuki stopped engaging them, ran, and headed straight for the ship's interior.

 

"Wait!"

 

Yuki could sense one of the enemies emitting killing intent while saying that.

 

She also vaguely sensed what was coming. Yuki moved the sabers held in both hands to her back—and immediately after, the sound of a gunshot was heard. A strong shock ran through the sabers, and Yuki herself was pushed forward by inertia, stumbling a few steps with a "whoops."

 

She had been shot with a pistol.

 

But—she blocked it. She had already confirmed in previous battles that she could defend without issue if she positioned the saber correctly. Without slowing down, Yuki ran into the ship's interior.

 

There was no further pursuit.

 

(2/25)

 

Yuki opened the door to the captain's quarters.

 

On the ship Yuki had been on, the captain's quarters were on the same deck as the open-air deck, and it was the same on this ship. The captain's private room—though being a room on a ship with limited space, it wasn't that large. It was about whether it was larger or smaller than Yuki's six-tatami mat room. Therefore, the furnishings were minimal. One chair and one desk, one storage shelf, and...

 

And—one treasure chest.

 

It was something that had been on Yuki's ship as well. Treasure was stored inside. Since it would be stolen immediately if left in a place like this, they had moved it to another location shortly after the game started, and there was a high possibility this ship had done the same, but Yuki thought there was no harm in checking anyway, and tried to open the lid to look inside—

 

—Until killing intent leaked out from within the treasure chest.

 

Yuki raised a saber in front of her chest.

 

Immediately after, along with a clang, a shock ran through her. Yuki moved the saber to cover her stomach. Another shock. Face, legs, chest again; Yuki changed her defense points one after another, and timing it when the opponent's continuous attack broke, she swung her saber widely while retreating to take some distance.

 

Standing on top of the treasure chest—was a young girl.

 

"...Tch... sharp instincts."

 

Sword in one hand, she spat out the words foully.

 

It was a petite girl. Small enough to fit her body inside a treasure chest and ambush Yuki. Her age seemed to be about junior high school level at most, but—however, at a glance, Yuki was convinced: It's this one. A face full of confidence, looking as if she believed from the bottom of her gut that she was loved by the world. Eyes harboring an arrogant-like thought that she had the right and duty to lead people. No mistake. This one was the general.

 

Being caught off guard wasn't pleasant, but—this situation was what Yuki desired. From the start, she was interested in this, not the treasure. Yuki readied the sabers in both hands. Catching the sunlight streaming in from the window, both of them flashed sharply.

 

Yuki and the girl glared at each other for five or ten seconds, a time that was by no means long.

 

Then—as if melting together, it became a duel.

 

Amidst a fierce exchange of slashes where neither could stop their hands for even an instant, Yuki thought. I've really come into my own—even though just a while ago, she had been suffering so much. For Yuki, who had lost the vision in her right eye, close-quarters combat requiring a grasp of subtle distance was a huge weakness. It should have been a situation to avoid at all costs.

 

However, now it was exactly what she wanted. She no longer made clicking sounds. Even without making them, she understood everything. The distance to the opponent, the surrounding environment, even the opponent's movements up to several beats later. Neither by vision nor by hearing, she just somehow understood. The sense of omnipotence Yuki once possessed—that sensation she had been made to realize was an illusion by the hand of her master—she was now able to acquire as something certain, not an illusion.

 

It might be a completely imprudent emotion, but...

 

Being immersed in that sensation was a little fun.

 

Yuki cut the girl's shoulder with her saber.

 

It was the shoulder holding the sword. Having lost her grip strength, she dropped her weapon, and once that happened, the match was decided. She wouldn't kill unless necessary—that was Yuki's rule, but she judged it necessary in this case. She finished the work that needed to be done quickly.

 

And, by that time, the door to the captain's quarters opened. Perhaps the bunch who had been dithering earlier finally hardened their resolve now; they entered the room one after another.

 

It was perfect timing, so holding up the literal head of the general, Yuki asked them.

 

"—This girl, is she your captain?"

 

In that manner, Yuki's sixty-fourth game ended.

 

(3/25)

 

In Room 107 of Tochinoki-so, Yuki woke up.

 

(4/25)

 

Yuki finished her usual routine work—prayer and reviewing the game. With the pirate costume folded at her pillowside in hand, she opened the closet. It would have been good if she could hang it on a hanger, but the closet in Yuki's room was already full, and the situation was such that she could only place it on the floor, so she did so. She ought to come up with some kind of countermeasure, but she kept dragging her feet and postponing it. Today, as always, Yuki looked away from reality and turned her eyes to the room's window.

 

The sun hadn't set yet.

 

It was late afternoon. checking the time on her smartphone, it was a time where she could make it for the start of night school if she hurried.

 

And, come to think of it, she remembered that today was the first day of the end-of-year exams. Because the game had lasted unexpectedly long, her return had been cut extremely close to the day itself. She had to hurry—putting her arms through her sailor uniform and her feet into loafers, Yuki left the room at a speed that could rival the battle against the phantom the other day.

 

Then—she encountered another resident.

 

A girl with a gloomy face. It was Yashiro Endori. She seemed to have been about to pass in front of Room 107, but because Yuki had opened the room door, the path was blocked, and she had stopped.

 

"Ah... Good evening!"

 

Yuki greeted her. She probably should have said "Sorry for blocking the way," but that phrase was what came out in the spur of the moment.

 

"...!?"

 

At Yuki's greeting, Endori was terribly surprised. It was a sensitive reaction, truly like a small bird.

 

After a moment, she returned a small bow. After seeing that, Yuki ran and exited the apartment.

 

Timid as ever, Yuki thought. A girl who always had a gloomy face and was hugely surprised by even small things—that was all Yuki knew about Endori. Even among the residents of Tochinoki-so, she was the most enigmatic. She didn't seem to be engaged in studies or a regular job, yet she didn't have the outlaw aura that the old Yuki used to exude. She had an ordinary atmosphere. The various elements didn't mesh at all, failing to form a single image.

 

Just who on earth was she?

 

(5/25)

 

After Yuki left.

 

Endori spun her thoughts furiously.

 

(6/25)

 

She placed a hand on her chest. Her heart was beating like an alarm bell.

 

Remaining in that posture, Endori thought. What? What was that just now? It was the first time she had received a greeting like "Good evening" from her. That neighbor with the ghostly appearance, Yuki Sorimachi—her greeting was usually "Thanks" or "Sup," or simply bowing her head silently. She recalled this was the first time she was told "Good evening." An event following a different pattern than usual. What did this signify?

 

Furthermore—furthermore, it was the first time she encountered her just as she was leaving. At this time, she should usually have already left for school... Why did she depart at this time? Did she simply oversleep? Was that really it? Even if she overslept, it doesn't explain the coincidence with the timing of Endori passing by. Was she lying in wait? If that were the case—

 

Calm down, she told herself.

 

She was worrying too much. There are days when one wants to say "Good evening," and days when departure is delayed. There are days when you run into someone with timing that feels calculated. It's a coincidence. A coincidence, a coincidence—. After telling herself that three times, Endori's heart finally calmed down. Due to her profession, Endori had a habit of reacting hypersensitively to slight changes. While this trait was useful for work, it was a major inconvenience in daily life.

 

Endori took a deep breath. She had work from now on; she couldn't be palpitating like this. After returning her heart rate to normal, Endori left the apartment. After wandering around the area aimlessly for a while and confirming carefully that no one was monitoring her—neither Yuki Sorimachi nor other tailers—she headed to the meeting place she had been told of in advance.

 

It was an unremarkable public road.

 

A single car was parked on the street. It was a black car. While Endori had been wandering around, the sun had set and it had become night, so hidden in that darkness, it didn't stand out from the surroundings.

 

From inside the car, a person in a suit stepped out. It was a young man. He had a practiced air about him. His face was expressionless, but not in a cold way nor a bored way; rather, the impression was of a type whose emotions were simply thin. Somehow, he gave off an atmosphere of someone doing well in life. A person who gave the impression that he had handled exam wars and job hunting effortlessly, and even after becoming a company employee, he didn't blatantly show off his capability but was actually getting things done aggressively.

 

However—Endori knew that he did not belong to any company.

 

He was Endori's Supporter.

 

"Good evening."

 

Seeing Endori, the Supporter spoke.

 

"Well then, shall we go?"

 

"Yeah. Please," Endori answered.

 

(7/25)

 

When Endori got into the passenger seat, the Supporter started the car. After driving for a while and getting caught at the first traffic light, the Supporter said "Here," and handed something to Endori.

 

It was a document stapled together.

 

When Endori checked the contents, it was the profile of a certain middle-aged man. However, it was a little strange. Although a face photo, age, height, and weight were listed, the name was not. No background history either. Instead, data such as martial arts experience and medical history were recorded, and multiple photos capturing the whole body like a three-view drawing were attached. Endori read the document from corner to corner, but the most crucial thing wasn't listed this time either.

 

So, Endori asked.

 

"Why is this person being killed?"

 

"Who knows. I don't know."

 

The usual answer came back.

 

She looked at the face photo in the document again. He didn't give the impression of a good person, but he didn't look like a villain worth mentioning either. At least, to Endori's natural senses, he didn't look like a human who should be killed. However, a person who offered a reward that was by no means cheap and requested his murder certainly existed.

 

"It's sick, this country," Endori muttered.

 

"Oh...? That's rare, for you to say something like that, Endori-san."

 

Being told that by the Supporter, Endori thought, oops. She intended to calm her heart, but perhaps a little agitation remained—her tongue had slipped. Endori gauged the Supporter's expression, but he remained as expressionless as before, turning the steering wheel. He didn't seem to take it as a problematic remark.

 

Again, the car got caught at a light. Endori returned the document to the Supporter. The rule was to return it once the contents were memorized. Taking it home was not allowed.

 

"I assume you're already aware from the document's contents, but let's confirm the flow."

 

While stuffing the document into the storage next to the driver's seat, the Supporter spoke.

 

"Execution will be on the way home after the target finishes work. There was a blind alley perfectly situated, so we'll do it there. So, about the crucial method... are you going for the neck? He has a pretty thick neck."

 

"Yeah. I'll manage."

 

Endori answered and took out her work tools. Putting on leather gloves, with both hands now increased in strength and friction, she pulled that taut to check that there were no functional issues.

 

It was a thin thread.

 

Made from a material with a long name containing more than twenty Katakana characters, it was a special order. Thin so as to apply pressure efficiently, yet possessing the strength to withstand the necessary amount of force. It was an item specialized solely for the function of strangling a human to death.

 

"Then, that's the plan."

 

After the Supporter said that, conversation vanished from the car. Even in silence, it wasn't awkward. Because Endori and the Supporter had known each other for a long time, and both were types who preferred quiet.

 

In silence, the car arrived at the destination.

 

Since the map of the surroundings was in her head from the earlier document, Endori understood the stopping location accurately. Endori and the Supporter got out of the car and headed to the point where the job would be executed—the blind spot. In Endori's line of work, the word "blind spot" held a special meaning. A place where there were few eyes and ears, or visibility was poor; a perfect point to execute a job where even if a person died, it wouldn't easily become a major incident, was referred to as a <blind spot>. Finding such a spot from the target's range of activity and creating a crime plan that was maximally difficult to detect was the Supporter's job.

 

However, no matter how deserted a place chosen, if the target escaped, that was it. Even if the murder itself succeeded, if they raised a voice or left residue at the scene, the risk of it becoming a case increased by that amount. To bury the target surely and quietly. That was the keystone, and that was why a specialist like Endori was needed.

 

Endori and the Supporter hid in the shadows. Eventually, they saw the target, the middle-aged man, walking towards them. Endori simply stated "I'm off," and stepped out into the alley.

 

"Good luck."

 

Saying that, the Supporter waved his hand slightly.

 

Good luck—. Endori liked this send-off phrase. It made her realize that no matter how much preparation was piled up, no matter how perfectly one tried to do things, it was luck that ultimately determined the success or failure of a job.

 

Endori approached the target from behind without a sound. Taking out the thin thread, again without a sound, she stretched it long,

 

And then—

 

(8/25)

 

Yuki felt her spine freeze.

 

(9/25)

 

Instinctively, she tried to turn her gaze to her surroundings.

 

However, she couldn't do so. That was because, right now, Yuki was taking a test at school. The teacher was keeping a sharp watch from the podium. Not allowed to look around restlessly, Yuki returned her gaze to the test paper in front of her.

 

She only returned her gaze. Her mind continued to examine the chill from earlier. What was that just now? How to put it—it was like—she felt killing intent. She didn't think it was from nearby. It flowed in from far away. Was there some dangerous trouble outside the school...?

 

—No good, no good, Yuki reconsidered. This wasn't the time to direct her thoughts elsewhere. She had to concentrate—her grades were barely at the passing line as it was; if she daydreamed, she would die. Yuki directed her consciousness to the test paper this time. The subject was mathematics. She stood her pen up to tackle a new major question.

 

But, immediately after, her concentration was disturbed again. This time, by the sound of motorcycles coming from outside the school building...

 

(10/25)

 

Tens of minutes later, the test ended.

 

There was no sense of accomplishment. Only a resignation-like feeling that she had done what she could. Along with a subtle psychology unique to after a test one has no confidence in—something like a sense of liberation, or perhaps defiance—Yuki packed her things and left the classroom. Today's exams were over with this.

 

"Yo."

 

Then, a voice called out from behind.

 

Turning around, Hitomi was there.

 

Hitomi Honezuka—Yuki's classmate. A person with a history of being a player with nearly thirty clears, who had a bit of a dispute with Yuki about a year ago.

 

"Ah... hey," Yuki greeted.

 

"Do you have plans after this today?"

 

"No, I don't."

 

"How about the main job?"

 

"I just came back today, so an invitation won't come for a while."

 

"Then, let's go home together."

 

"I don't mind but... what about those sisters?"

 

Yuki looked inside the classroom over Hitomi's shoulder. Two female students with identical faces—possessing a somewhat goofy atmosphere—were there. Hiyori Amano and Kazami Amano. Twin sisters, friends of Hitomi, who were always hanging out together.

 

But, "It's fine," Hitomi answered.

 

"On days with science and math exams, I don't go home with them. They mount me about grades..."

 

"...I see."

 

Those sisters have better grades, huh, Yuki thought.

 

(11/25)

 

Things like this happened occasionally.

 

They weren't close enough to be called friends, but occasionally, Yuki and Hitomi would talk just the two of them. Ever since that incident which became the trigger for regaining Hitomi's memories, the distance between the two had somehow shrunk.

 

"I wanna go up to third year..."

 

On the way home from school, Yuki said.

 

If she survived these tests safely, she would advance to the third year. Since the night school Yuki attended went up to four years, it wasn't the final year, rather merely the halfway point, but the feeling of wanting to advance remained.

 

"Wanting to advance is a weird thing to say, though..."

 

Hitomi retorted.

 

"Our high school's exams aren't that high of a hurdle, right? Don't fail."

 

"But, I'm wearing two pairs of straw sandals (juggling two roles) with being a player and all. I can't manage everything."

 

"How is that side of things? I heard things were pretty crazy recently..."

 

Hitomi asked. She had been told about recent events to some extent.

 

"Smooth sailing."

 

Yuki answered.

 

"I've gotten used to the vision in one eye, and I don't feel like I'm going to die at all."

 

The ritual game with the phantom—<Snow Room>.

 

Having gone through that battle, Yuki's sensory abilities had been raised one level. Even with vision in one eye, she could <Know> the surrounding situation much more widely and deeply than when she had vision in both. Humans who have experienced so-called "entering the zone" say they can perceive surrounding situations down to minute details, and what Yuki was feeling was exactly that. Moreover, in Yuki's case, it wasn't temporary; it continued constantly.

 

"I'm not being conceited, I think it's genuinely going well. Though, I can't let my guard down every time..."

 

"Hmm..." Hitomi said, "Well, if you say so, then I guess it is so. When you're in good shape, you can usually tell yourself."

 

The status report ended, and then the topic returned to schoolwork. Our advancement judgment is relatively severe—Hitomi said. In all subjects, one must attend a certain number of days and score above the standard score in exams; if one fails to meet the standard—meaning a failing grade—re-exams are held for those students. If that also fails, they are mercilessly held back. Apparently, there are no remedial measures like make-up classes or kowtowing to the teacher for forgiveness. However, since it's severe, the standard score itself is quite low, so it should probably be fine, but—as Yuki was not an honors student, she just repeatedly thought, I wanna go up to third year.

 

And when that ended too, the topics between the two ran out. Since it was the middle of the night, when conversation ceased, it suddenly became quiet. Only the sound of cars running on the nearby roadway resonated like a bass tone one notices occasionally. That environment calmed Yuki's heart.

 

Come to think of it, Yuki remembered she lived a nocturnal life because she liked this kind of thing. It had been a long time since she felt this peaceful. Thinking back, for about the last year, Yuki's head had constantly been in a state where undigested tasks were stuck to it. The return of the murderer, loss of vision, the pushy apprentice, and... Perhaps it was since the period right after crossing the <Wall of Thirty> that she had nothing to worry about.

 

However—even back then, <Cloudy Beach> came eventually, and the peace ended. This peace, too, surely wouldn't last long.

 

In that case, I might as well savor it without regrets—

 

Just as Yuki thought that, a vibration sound was heard. Hitomi's phone rang. She took out her phone, tapped the notification on the lock screen, and opened the messaging app. It seemed contact had come from the Amano sisters.

 

Just four characters, <Tayunene> were displayed.

 

"...Tayunene?" Yuki said.

 

"Might be 'Tasukete' (Help me)."

 

Saying that, Hitomi typed the four characters <Tayunene> into the app. Yuki clicked her tongue in awe, "Ooh," at the flick input where her fingers didn't waver for even an instant.

 

"The character row—only the direction of the flick is correct. They must have typed without looking at the screen," said Hitomi.

 

"Ah... I see." A clever deduction, Yuki thought.

 

"I'm going to go check."

 

Hitomi's tone and face had become a little grim. Thinking about a situation where they had to type <Help me> without looking at the screen, anyone would become so.

 

"Must be something on the way home. It's doubtful if they can even make a call... I'll go directly. See you tomorrow."

 

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

 

Yuki saw Hitomi off as she left, waving her hand lightly.

 

(12/25)

 

After finishing a job.

 

Endori saw the Supporter's car drive away, waving her hand lightly.

 

(13/25)

 

Even including the whole process, it was a job that took less than three minutes.

 

First, crawling the thin thread around the target's neck, and strangling. The ten seconds or so after that were the most difficult point, where she had to keep strangling without being discouraged by the opponent's resistance. When Endori managed to carry that task through, the target lost consciousness.

 

This was the same as a choking technique in Judo; it was temporary fainting and he wasn't dead yet, but the preparation to transport the body began from this stage. The Supporter, who had been hiding in the shadows, came with a hemp sack, wrapped it from the toes to below the neck, and restrained it further from above so that he couldn't move even if he woke up. Meanwhile, Endori also advanced her preparations. Changing the way the knot was tied so she could keep strangling with one hand, she deployed further work tools with her free hand. A tourniquet—it was a tool with a similar mechanism, but like the thin thread, this was also a special order item used to keep compressing the target's arteries and airways. The head above where that was wrapped was also covered with a second hemp sack.

 

Endori and the Supporter, the two of them, carried the completely packed target to the car. Since one was a young man and the other a petite girl, the percentage Endori could contribute in this process was almost nil, but she did her best. When they carried the target into the back seat of the car, the Supporter took out a smartphone from his pocket and stopped the stopwatch running on the screen. And said, "Oh, a new record. Two minutes thirty-seven seconds."

 

Endori watched the Supporter's car drive away. Endori's job was done here. He would handle the disposal of the body. According to him, only two minutes and thirty-seven seconds had passed from execution to completion. Since hanging/strangulation is said to take about fifteen minutes on average to result in death, that meant the target was still alive at the stage the job was completed. Endori recognized her profession as a <Hitman> (Killer), but this title might not be appropriate. It feels strange that the job becomes a different profession because it's too elegant—thinking that, Endori checked the area around the scene and confirmed the target hadn't left any traces.

 

And, she stroked her chest in relief.

 

Thank goodness. She was able to survive it safely this time too—.

 

(14/25)

 

Yashiro Endori is a hitman.

 

She eats by killing.

 

As a child, she didn't know she was a person of the underworld. Because she had lived in a world where that was the norm. The Endori family was a prestigious family of assassins continuing for generations, and had been heavily used as a dark military force by the powerful people of the time and outlaw organizations. Recently, they accepted requests not only from organizations but also from individuals. On the dark web, they collected funds from many people in the form of crowdfunding and received payment in virtual currency. It sounds like a shady scam story, but it is a fact. Some of the assets Endori currently possessed were such up-and-coming currencies.

 

The first time she laid hands on a human was when she was five. In Endori's lineage, to select children with talent, it was the custom to make the children of each house kill each other to <cull> them. Endori survived that selection and was to receive education as the successor of the head family.

 

By the time she turned ten, she had mastered every kind of assassination art.

 

By the time she turned twelve, she was performing jobs splendidly, burying humans numbering nearly a hundred.

 

And—by the time she was fifteen, she realized she could not escape this fate.

 

(15/25)

 

Since the Supporter's car had gone, Endori had to go home under her own power.

 

So, she headed to the nearest station. By the time she arrived at the station, although it was past the rush hour time, a large number of people were still coming and going within the station premises. Endori held her pass case in the hand that had just murdered a person, tapped it at the ticket gate to pass through, and boarded the train. A seat opened up at the third station, so she sat there.

 

Feeling at a loose end, she took out her smartphone and opened an e-book reader. Endori was the type of human who stockpiled so-called books, and was in a state where undigested books were always in the reader to some extent.

 

She opened one of those books. A novel. It was fiction by a famous author whom anyone would recognize upon hearing the name. Endori liked fiction. She preferred the way of enjoying projecting herself onto the characters and reliving their lives.

 

That was probably escapist behavior.

 

An escape from her inescapable life.

 

Having continued the hitman trade for several years, eighteen-year-old Endori could already see the terminal point of her life. I will live killing people for my whole life. Living by killing my own kind. Will I die messing up somewhere in the end—or become the next head and beat assassination arts into innocent children just as was done to me? After I die, I'll undoubtedly go to hell.

 

looking down at such a life of hers from a bird's-eye view, Endori felt a faint sense of emptiness. What is this? Is this sort of thing a life? A life of simply burying people earnestly without creating anything. What comes of doing such things? The time spent thinking like that had increased recently.

 

Yashiro Endori certainly had the aptitude as a hitman.

 

However, she could not feel any significance in that job.

 

(16/25)

 

She arrived at the station nearest to Tochinoki-so. Endori left the station and walked looking somewhat downwards. The night wind slapped against that small body.

 

On the way to Tochinoki-so—she wondered if there wasn't a way.

 

Recently, she always thought about such things whenever she had free time. Isn't there some means? Isn't there a way to obtain a life different from now, somehow?

 

Right—first, can I quit the hitman job? I can't. If I were a human from a branch family, maybe, but I'm from the head family, and a human summoned as the successor at that. I would be stopped from every direction. I can't quit amicably. Then—what if I force it? How about disappearing without saying anything? Impossible. Being a lineage with a long history, the Endori family's connections extend nationwide. As if I could keep hiding without being found. In that case, how about negotiating fair and square? Kidnap Yumiko, the current head and Endori's mother, and demand disownment in exchange for her person. Have them choose the successor from other candidates—. Idiot. Do you think something like that will go well? It's a battle between a mouse and a dragon. As if a single little girl could cross swords with an entire family.

 

The conclusion is always the same.

 

I cannot escape. I am a bird in a cage.

 

A feeling bordering on desperate, wanting to escape, and a recognition bordering on cold-blooded, that it is inescapable. Those two came alternately, intoxicating Endori. Her steps naturally became heavy, and after taking plenty of time, Endori finally returned to the apartment.

 

Then—a car was parked in front of the building.

 

Is it that one—Endori thought for an instant, but since a young man got out of the car, she knew it was this one. Endori's Supporter—a person from a branch family whose real name was Tohei Edomoto.

 

"We meet again," the Supporter said.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

Endori asked. Wasn't this the first time he had come to the apartment? Usually, they met up at a distant place. It was to prevent her identity from becoming known to the residents of Tochinoki-so.

 

Endori looked toward the back seat of the car. The body wrapped in hemp sacks was not there. It seemed to be after the disposal was finished.

 

"There was a request for the next one, so I thought I'd just report it," the Supporter said.

 

"...Already?"

 

Just when she thought she had finished one, the next request was already here—demand for killing was too high. This country is sick, Endori thought deeply.

 

"This is the target."

 

The Supporter added, and showed a photo of the target. It was a shot from the side, probably taken secretly, but the face could be confirmed.

 

"...This is..."

 

Confirming the target's profile, Endori spoke.

 

"You know her, right?"

 

"...Yeah," Endori nodded.

 

Killing a known human for work. It was a first experience for Endori.

 

Endori thought. I see, so she is—.

 

(17/25)

 

Late at night.

 

The chime of Yuki's room rang.

 

(18/25)

 

Yuki placed the textbook she was holding on the desk.

 

She had returned home from school and was in the middle of preparing for tomorrow's exams. Though it was a time when the date was about to change—wondering who on earth it was at this hour, Yuki opened the door.

 

Yashiro Endori was standing there.

 

With a gloomy face, as always.

 

"Good evening."

 

Endori said. She was carrying a black backpack on her back.

 

"Good evening..."

 

While answering so, Yuki felt bewildered. Because receiving a visit from her was a first. "What's wrong?" she tried asking.

 

"I'm sorry at this hour... There is something I absolutely want to consult you about..."

 

Endori answered.

 

"Can we talk just the two of us? ...In a place where no one can hear."

 

(19/25)

 

Guided by Endori, Yuki went out into the night town.

 

After walking for a while, they entered a mixed-use building. Perhaps the lock was broken; the entrance door was open despite it being the middle of the night. Climbing stairs so steep they must surely be barely legal under the Building Standards Act, they opened a door that was also unlocked, and came out onto the rooftop.

 

Generally speaking, the view is good when climbing to a high place. It was the same for this building. After looking around the area in a circle, Endori said, "I like high places."

 

"Because I can feel like I've been liberated... Though it's an illusion, after all."

 

Shadows were cast on her face as she stated this.

 

Yuki felt a dangerous presence drifting from her depths. For her to emit such a presence—and to allow a stranger to sniff it out—was a completely first occurrence. What was about to begin? Consultation... what did she intend to consult about? Yuki's doubts deepened.

 

"You said a place where no one can hear, but... is here okay?"

 

For the time being, Yuki tried asking that. "Yes," Endori answered.

 

"Places like this have surprisingly high confidentiality. The sound is drowned out by the wind around the building, so it doesn't leak outside... It's the perfect place to talk about secrets."

 

"Heh..." Yuki said, "So, what is this secret talk?"

 

Endori didn't answer immediately. Despite having called her to such a place, she took a noncommittal attitude for a while, hesitating whether to step forward or not, then,

 

"Before that, please let me confirm one thing."

 

Endori spoke.

 

"Yuuki-san—you aren't a civilian, are you?"

 

(20/25)

 

Her heart was pounding. Without even touching her chest, Endori knew.

 

She said it. She had finally gone and said it—. There was an implicit rule at Tochinoki-so not to pry into each other's backgrounds, and she had broken that regulation, but that wasn't all. By making this confirmation, she would inevitably be conveying that she herself was not a civilian either. There was the tension of having stood at that entrance.

 

But, if she was to talk with her, she had to confirm first.

 

That she was—a hitman like herself.

 

"Eh... w-why?"

 

Yuuki asked back.

 

Her voice was flustered. That meant she had hit the mark.

 

"I can tell by looking," Endori answered.

 

"The aura of death drifting around your whole body. Seeming absentminded, yet having movements without a single opening. Both are things unique to humans living in the world of violence."

 

Moreover—despite being so, there wasn't an unnecessarily violent aura either. It was the aura of a human doing killing as a job, with minimum effort.

 

As far as Endori knew, there was no such profession other than a hitman.

 

"Besides—that car," Endori added a reason.

 

"About two or three times a month, you are met by a woman in black clothes, aren't you? You get into a black car and go out, right? That is... you're heading to work, aren't you?"

 

Yes. That, too, is something unique to the world of hitmen. Since killing jobs involve various preparations, it is normal to pair up with an exclusive Supporter to handle the business. Surely she was the same.

 

Other than people of the Endori family, it was the first time meeting another hitman. I want to talk to her. I want to chat—she had thought so for a while. From the look of it, Yuuki, unlike Endori, didn't have a depressed air. She seemed to handle her work normally—no, recently she even seemed full of energy. Why? She desperately wanted to hear that secret.

 

Why can you act so normal?

 

What kind of worth do you find in this job?

 

—Of course.

 

Everything might be a wild imagination. Yuki Sorimachi might be a regular person who just happens to wear an aura of death, and so perhaps she just doesn't get depressed. But—. Endori prayed. Please, let her be an existence that gives me good news.

 

With such feelings, Endori gauged Yuuki's reaction.

 

One second, or two seconds.

 

After freezing, Yuuki was visibly dyed in surprise.

 

"N... no way."

 

And, she said.

 

"Are you... in the same industry as me?"

 

Endori—nodded.

 

(21/25)

 

Yuki was truly surprised.

 

She hadn't expected it. Because she had never felt a presence like that. Did she keep me from realizing until now? If so, that's amazing concealment technique.

 

"N... no way."

 

She shouldn't jump to conclusions, so she checked just in case.

 

"Are you... in the same industry as me?"

 

Endori nodded.

 

Holy cow—.

 

Yashiro Endori. To think she was a player too.

 

Since she knew about the Agent, there could be no mistake. The black car, the staff in black clothes, those are unique to the game world. She hadn't seen Endori being met by an Agent, but come to think of it, she often saw her going out at strange times. Surely, that was it. Unlike Yuki, she probably met up a little way from her home and went out to the game stage—Endori called it <work>, huh—.

 

Certainly, the possibility existed. A young girl living alone suspiciously. She should have been able to suspect she was a player. Actually, there is one example, Hitomi, even if she is "former"—.

 

No, perhaps it was because there was one. There can't be that many players, so unconsciously she had decided there wouldn't be any more in the same area.

 

"Haaah..."

 

Yuki let out a deep sigh, sounding partly impressed and partly amazed.

 

"I see. So they are surprisingly close by..."

 

"I am surprised too," Endori answered.

 

"This makes the second one. Encountering someone in the same industry nearby..."

 

"...? There are others?"

 

"Yeah. There was one at the school I go to too. She's retired now though... She said it got tough around thirty times and she quit."

 

"...That's right. It is tough..."

 

Endori said as if chewing on the words. She seemed to know about the <Wall of Thirty>.

 

"She was in a position where she could quit. I'm envious..."

 

"Endori-san, you can't quit?"

 

"No. We've been doing this work for generations of ancestors... There's this and that with my family home, and I absolutely can't."

 

"Generations of ancestors...?"

 

For just an instant a question mark floated up, but well, she thought things like that happen too. The game world seemed to have been around for quite a long time, and since it's an industry where transmitting know-how is important, it wouldn't be strange for there to be a distinguished family raising expert players.

 

"...Ah, right."

 

And there, Yuki remembered the main topic.

 

"So... you have a consultation for me? Based on the fact that we're in the same circumstances."

 

"Yes."

 

Then, Endori began to speak bit by bit.

 

"It's painful, going on with this work."

 

She continued.

 

"I've started thinking, why am I doing something like this... Because, this work doesn't create anything, does it? Rather, it's the killing side... I just can't feel like I'm contributing to the world."

 

"Yeah," Yuki chimed in.

 

"Besides, the customers of this work... they're probably evil rich people, aren't they? We kill to please people like that. I feel like I'm complicit in evil... It's disheartening. But, I can't quit either... I've ended up wondering what I should do."

 

Silence descended. The slimy air unique to when one receives a serious consultation from another flowed around them.

 

"I see..."

 

Yuki tried releasing words.

 

So there are people who think like that—was her candid impression. There had been many things she felt were difficulties until now, like her right eye or Tamamo, but Yuki had never once thought of the player trade itself as <painful>.

 

But, now that it was mentioned, it was true. Murder games as show business—certainly, viewed from a player's perspective, it is a job that creates nothing. Rather, it's the killing side. The <customers> Endori speaks of—the <spectators> of the game are probably rich people with evil hearts. Dedicating oneself to please them. It's no wonder she feels disheartened.

 

Yuki had never held worries like Endori's, but—however, she had felt similar feelings. In Yuki's case, it wasn't a sense of worth but a reason for living, yet it was the same in the point that something crucial, indispensable for life, was missing.

 

And, Yuki knew the coping method for that.

 

"You can't feel meaning in the work," Yuki said.

 

"Yes," Endori answered.

 

"Then, I think you have no choice but to obtain it."

 

"...But... is there meaning in this work?"

 

"No, it doesn't have to be something everyone acknowledges. As long as it makes sense within yourself, that's fine."

 

"...? What do you mean?"

 

"Eh?"

 

Since she didn't expect to be asked back, Yuki was stuck for words. Spinning her brain desperately,

 

"Umm... how to put it... It doesn't have to be a real reason. If you can convince yourself I can do it with that, then that's fine... or rather, if you can satisfy yourself, any reason is fine..."

 

"You mean to deceive myself?"

 

"Yeah." That's the word, Yuki thought. "From what I heard, it seems you can't quit... I think you have no choice but to think in that direction."

 

"Is... that okay?"

 

"I think it's fine," Yuki said. "Even if it's not our job, I think that's how it is. Workers who are contributing to the world in a true sense, there probably isn't even one in a hundred, right? The other people are, so to speak, deceiving themselves. They manage to find something like a sense of worth and get through every day. I think that's what humans are like... what do you think?"

 

"........."

 

Endori fell silent.

 

Did it get a little too abstract?—Yuki thought. Here, presenting an actual example might be good. "Right," Yuki said.

 

"Then, let me talk about myself. What I make my motivation is—"

 

She tried to talk about the ninety-nine times, but,

 

"...! No!"

 

Endori put a hand forward to stop her.

 

"I cannot possibly ask you to let me hear that."

 

"...? Why?"

 

"That constitutes the core of you, Yuuki-san, right? To ask you to teach me that..."

 

"No, I don't really mind though..."

 

Well, if she says she doesn't want to hear it, then that's fine, Yuki thought.

 

At that moment, a gust of wind blew. Rooftops are places where the wind blows often for some reason. It struck their two bodies strongly.

 

"Cold..."

 

Whether Yuki had finished saying it or not, Endori took down the backpack she was carrying. She opened the zipper and took out a thermos and paper cups. She poured the contents and offered it to Yuki.

 

"It's cocoa. It will warm you up," Endori said.

 

Oh, how grateful, Yuki thought. "Thanks..." she thanked her and accepted it.

 

Putting her mouth to the deep brown liquid raising thick steam, immediately—this is different, she thought. Different from the cocoa Yuki knew. Less sweet, and it felt a bit bitter. Maybe it was high-quality cocoa.

 

"—Thank you very much for today, Yuuki-san."

 

Endori said to her.

 

"Mm." Yuki took her mouth away from the paper cup, "Is that all?"

 

"Yes. I have settled the score (Kejime), after all."

 

Endori bowed deeply.

 

And she left the rooftop. While warming her body with cocoa, Yuki saw her off.

 

She was an interesting girl, she thought. It was the first time they talked properly, but she liked her quite a bit. She hoped she would live a long life.

 

And, right there—

 

"Ugh...!"

 

Yuki coughed.

 

Because she had suddenly passed something hot through her throat, it became painful and she coughed.

 

Nothing more than that happened.

 

(22/25)

 

Endori left the mixed-use building. She returned to the apartment with quick steps.

 

She was a person without openings, she thought. Due to her profession, Endori had a habit of naturally thinking about how to kill someone when she saw them, but—in that person's case, no scenario came to mind. There were signs that she was constantly probing Endori's every move. If she showed even a little killing intent, it would be sniffed out and she would be counterattacked. Even the cocoa she handed at the end, she accepted with the conviction that nothing strange was in it. Even among hitmen, she was in a different class. An opponent she shouldn't lay a hand on.

 

Though, she had no plans to lay a hand on her in particular—

 

By the way, that was a little rude just now, wasn't it, Endori thought. Calling her out and then unilaterally cutting off the conversation and returning—She might be thought of as a selfish guy. But still, she absolutely wanted to be alone right now.

 

She wanted to be alone and think.

 

About the meaning of my existence. About what to make my emotional support.

 

There were still days until the execution date of the next job. I hope I find it by then—thinking so, Endori passed through the back alley and came out onto the main street.

 

At that moment, she was surprised enough to get goosebumps.

 

Because a roaring sound rang out right in front of her.

 

A group of motorcycles raced through the roadway in front of her eyes. Every motorcycle had a red chassis as if splattered with blood. And the roaring sound from modified mufflers. It was the members of the delinquent group throwing their weight around in this land, the <Red Bears>.

 

Endori placed a hand on her chest. Taking one, two deep breaths—and then, she narrowed her eyes.

 

(23/25)

 

At a certain time.

 

The Agent and the Supporter achieved a chance encounter.

 

(24/25)

 

"Damn it..."

 

Yuki's Agent groaned while gripping the steering wheel.

 

It was on the highway. In front of, and behind the black car the Agent was riding, cars were lined up annoyingly. He was caught in a traffic jam.

 

The time was late at night. Normally it wasn't a time for traffic jams, but it seemed a traffic accident had occurred up ahead and blocked the lanes. Dammit—the Agent thought. If he had known this would happen, he would have gone home a little earlier. After dropping Yuki off at the apartment, he had chilled out a bit at a super public bath, and this was the result. Well, thinking positively, perhaps thanks to chilling out, he avoided getting involved in the accident, but...

 

"...?"

 

It was then.

 

He noticed the driver of the car to his right looking at him.

 

Not just looking, he was waving his hand. A gesture as if to an acquaintance—when he looked, it really was an acquaintance. The Agent hurriedly opened the window on the driver's side. The car on the right had already opened the window on the passenger side. The driver—a young man who looked capable—leaned out towards him as far as he could and said, "Good evening."

 

"Good evening."

 

The Agent returned the greeting.

 

"What a coincidence. To meet in a place like this..."

 

The man was a hitman's Supporter. Background checks on targets, planning assassinations, disposing of bodies; he bore everything related to the peripheral duties of killing. The <Management> was also indebted to his work; when exterminating the <Victims' Association> that had once tried to deceive Yuki, he had lent a hand. He had met him face-to-face several times too.

 

Come to think of it, the hitman himself lived in the same apartment as Yuki, didn't she...

 

"A complete coincidence," the man chimed in, "Returning from work?"

 

"Yes. You too?"

 

"Indeed. Well, the next request is waiting, so I'm going home together with the work though..."

 

The hitman trade seemed busy. "Good work," the Agent expressed appreciation.

 

"However, it's a thing, isn't it," the man said. "We are acquaintances, but... how about the principals themselves? Do they know that there is another person of the underworld under the same roof?"

 

"They probably don't know," the Agent said. "They wouldn't reveal their identities to each other... and neither seems the type to pay attention to neighbors."

 

"Maybe they misunderstand each other as being in the same industry. After all, we're both in black clothes and black cars."

 

"No way," the Agent laughed.

 

(25/25)

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