Chapter 79

The train departed while spewing steam.

Quilbion watched the steam tinged with a subtle violet hue before turning around.

After leaving the platform, he could see the street stalls lined up in front of the station.

“This one.”

He held up a newspaper and handed over a coin. The stall owner waved his hand saying to go well.

He sat on a bench and spread open the newspaper. It was plastered with articles about the Western Labor Union starting a solidarity strike.

A busy world.

He read the newspaper over and over.

The sun that had been floating overhead disappeared and faint darkness arrived.

Lamplighters began going back and forth between streetlamps managing the lights.

Streetlamps lighting up one by one.

He stared blankly at the scarlet light rippling with mana.

There were things to do. It was quite a busy situation. So why was he spending time here?

Quilbion gave a hollow laugh.

It was a strange day. It was when he stood up, deciding to return home.

Someone with an open parasol in the middle of the night approached. The hem of their long coat rustled as if brushing the ground.

The person who’d approached closely raised the parasol.

It was a woman. An absurdly beautiful woman at that. Looking at her crimson lips, Quilbion realized why he’d spent time here endlessly.

“You came.”

His memory connected.

Quilbion offered Sheryl a seat. Sheryl folded the parasol and handed it to Quilbion. Along with the gloves she’d been wearing.

“You should have at least this much manners, right?”

Sheryl said.

After taking the parasol and gloves, he spread out a handkerchief and laid it on the bench.

“How’s this?”

“This is excessive. But not bad.”

Sheryl sat on the bench.

“Kid, got a cigarette?”

“Just a moment.”

He put his hand inside his jacket. When he opened the case, only tobacco leaf crumbs spilled out.

“Don’t have any.”

“You didn’t even prepare that. No sense at all.”

“Go get one from over there later. If you ask, the men will offer them to you.”

He pointed at the people gathered in front of the station. Whatever they were planning to do in the middle of the night, they each held a tool. Most had clubs, with hammers occasionally visible.

“Planning to kill someone.”

Sheryl said while looking at the crowd.

“They say there’s a strike.”

“Aha.”

After lightly cracking her neck left and right, Sheryl said.

“Did you see the train?”

“I did.”

“Where on earth did something like that pop out from?”

“Bulvarty made it.”

“Really? I just learned that. I only kept receiving bridal lessons. I guess this place is like that.”

“Must have been boring.”

“Extremely. So on the way out I killed two teachers. Even though it wasn’t something I’d experienced in reality, when I saw those two faces, irritation surged up. How they scolded me.”

“Why kill innocent people?”

“Because I wanted to kill them.”

“What an easy life you lead. I’m envious, so envious.”

Quilbion stood up from his seat.

“You have to eat.”

“Good.”

“Do you have money?”

Sheryl smiled and pulled out a wallet. Fortunately, it seemed she had plenty of money.

They left the station and entered a nearby restaurant. It was a grateful place that operated until late at night.

They sat at a corner table.

“This is the first shabby place like this I’ve been to. How novel.”

“You must have grown up in quite a privileged household.”

“Roselty Corporation. That’s our family.”

“Last time, a prophet even kings look up to; this time, a daughter of a magnate.”

“What about you?”

Quilbion tore off a piece of pre-meal bread while briefly tracing his memory.

“Journalist apprentice. Though I say apprentice, it’s nothing impressive—just a vagrant wandering around looking for stories.”

“Last time a coachman, this time an apprentice. A lowlife existence. In reality?”

“I was a slave. A slave tending pigs.”

“You’re at the bottom wherever you go. Pitiful.”

Sheryl laughed softly while covering her mouth.

The employee put down the food while staring intently at Sheryl.

When Sheryl turned her head sharply, the employee flinched and stepped back.

“Males, you see, are fun to tease.”

“With that face, anything would be fun.”

“This face? Not bad.”

Quilbion served food onto his personal plate. His stomach was clamoring for food.

He stabbed a potato soaked in sauce with his fork. As he brought it to his mouth, he could see Sheryl staring at him from across the table.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“You have to serve me before I eat.”

“Your hands are perfectly attached—eat on your own.”

“I was raised preciously, you know? Treat me properly.”

He let out a small sigh and served food onto Sheryl’s plate.

“Don’t ask to be fed. I might accidentally slash your throat with a knife.”

“Like how you stabbed my throat with a fork last time?”

“Exactly.”

Sheryl stroked her neck.

“That was quite thrilling. I realized what pain was after such a long time.”

“I’ll let you taste it again soon. I may not know other things, but I know pain well.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Sheryl ate the food. Quilbion leaned back in his chair and looked around.

Every customer in the restaurant stared directly at Sheryl. There was no distinction between men and women. Sheryl’s appearance was like sorcery that pulled gazes.

“That face.”

“Mm?”

“That face. Was it like that from birth?”

“This? No. Veild sculpted it quite carefully for me.”

“Veild?”

“My friend. She got sulky after I ate one of her arms and ran away though.”

“Ah. I get it.”

The first of those things Winte had mentioned.

Goblins who found form and awakened to karma.

“About your friends.”

Quilbion continued while cutting thick meat.

“How many are still alive? There were five total, right?”

“Winte told you all sorts of things. You really must have caught his fancy.”

Sheryl gently raised her hand. The employee rushed over as if running. When she requested water, he poured water into her glass as if it were an honor.

“When we parted, there were four.”

“Did you eat one?”

“Let’s call it a noble sacrifice. I feel a bit sorry for that one. But thinking about it, it was also that one’s fault. High sorcery but lacking the mind to utilize it. So it makes sense that we who could use it better divided it up.”

“So the four of you amicably shared one friend and gained enlightenment or something? Did you get stronger?”

“We became able to leave that place. The other shore, the surface realm.”

Quilbion tilted his head.

“You’re the ones who made the sky-barrier.”

“Ah, right. It had a name—sky-barrier. I’d forgotten since it’s been so long.”

Sheryl tapped the plate with her fork.

“It was a curtain we’d drawn to survive.”

“To survive?”

“We’d realized, you see. That we weren’t the Designer’s creations. Residue generated by chance. We probably weren’t a very beautiful existence in that great one’s eyes. So we had no choice but to hide to avoid that being’s gaze.”

“Like rats?”

“Right, squeak squeak.”

Sheryl spoke while smiling cutely.

“It was a truly long time. Inside there, we awakened to many things. We discovered nark similar to mana, and found ways to use it.”

Sorcery.

Quilbion scratched his head and asked.

“Since we’re on the topic, do you know a goblin named Sitpin?”

“Sitpin! I know—a smart but timid friend. A clever goblin born in a different other shore than the curtain we generated. I met that one once too.”

“Really?”

“I persuaded that one so kindly to just give me half its body, but that fellow…… got scared and ran away. I wanted to catch it, but it was so fast.”

Sheryl shook her head.

“A nostalgic name. It’s definitely hiding somewhere no one’s gaze reaches. A friend I want to see as much as you. Have you ever met Sitpin?”

“No. But I’d like to see it at least once. I have a few things I want to ask about sorcery.”

“Aha. You’re trying to create sorcery too?”

Sheryl pointed at Quilbion’s chest with the tip of her knife.

“Kids who have seeds like you can use nark, but creating sorcery is a separate matter. Generating complete sorcery won’t be easy. Nark isn’t power meant for you lot in the first place.”

He nodded and looked down at the table. The food had disappeared with just a few fork movements.

“Can I order more?”

“You have quite an appetite.”

“I don’t eat normally. Being able to eat when hungry is a happy thing.”

Sheryl shrugged.

He called the employee. He ordered several dishes to the employee who was preoccupied staring at Sheryl.

“About nark—in the end, it’s mana’s role to manifest power.”

“In the early stages, yes. Ah! Winte hasn’t reached the depths of sorcery either. So he couldn’t explain it properly. Well, to Teacher, sorcery was just another aspect of power, not a means that had to be mastered.”

After lifting the tablecloth to wipe her mouth, Sheryl raised both hands to eye level.

Her white fingers moved as if rippling.

“Yes! Do you need something?”

The employee came running.

“I need something.”

“Please tell me.”

“Can you lend me your head?”

Sheryl smiled brightly.

At the same time, the employee’s head separated from his neck. The body that had lost its head toppled sideways.

“……Ah.”

It was when screams began spreading starting with someone’s sigh. When Sheryl tapped her own ear with her finger, the customers inside the restaurant clamped their mouths shut.

People touched their mouths with their hands with startled eyes. When their mouths wouldn’t open, they kicked back their chairs and tried to leave the restaurant.

“Don’t go out.”

Quilbion spoke to the people. But no one listened.

Having no choice, he picked up a chair and threw it toward the restaurant entrance. The flying chair shattered with a loud noise.

The people heading to the entrance flinched and stopped.

“If you go out, you die. This woman intends to kill everyone who runs outside. So please step back and stick to the wall. Then you’ll be fine.”

Sheryl smiled while cradling the employee’s head to her chest.

“You read my intentions to some extent.”

“I’ve lived reading people’s faces for so long.”

While conversing with Sheryl, one woman finally threw her bag and ran toward the door.

Quilbion squinted one eye.

The Quilbion of this world wasn’t a monster. Unlike reality where one stomp could reach the sky, here he had to pant after jogging for one minute.

Mystical sorcery?

He could feel nark but couldn’t use it.

The only way to stop the woman several meters away was an empty cry.

“Don’t go!”

Simultaneously with his shout, the woman gripped the door handle.

Quilbion looked at Sheryl.

“She’s just scared—can’t you overlook it?”

“Winte must have said this. Bugs are fine if you can’t see them, but if you can see them, they’re unpleasant. Moreover, if that bug doesn’t listen to me and acts like that……”

Clatter—the woman who’d been shaking the door handle flinched and stepped back.

The woman’s body split diagonally and spilled onto the floor.

Blood pooled at the store entrance.

Quilbion looked at the people again and said.

“If you don’t want to die, step back. This woman doesn’t give warnings. Remember my words. Absolutely don’t move and just close your eyes and pray. Please let me survive.”

Quilbion brought a chair from the next table and sat down again.

“Let’s finish talking. Or kill me.”

“We have to, talk.”

Sheryl said while placing the employee’s head on the table.