Volume 3, Chapter 1-A: The Wolfman and the Sea
When was the first time I killed someone?
I wondered to myself, blankly sensing the wind on my skin.
It has to have been after I came to this island. That much is clear.
Even I’m not stupid enough to kill someone outside the island. I wouldn’t need to kill anyone if I was out there.
I do nothing that is unnecessary. Especially if it involves brushes with the law.
Which is why the ‘me’ on the mainland who didn’t kill people must have been a perfectly normal person. The news always featured strange and gruesome murders.
In the world where minors killed other minors, I heard a commentator say—‘Young people can’t distinguish reality from fantasy’ and began to wonder like a rebellious teenager, ‘Then why do adults kill more people when they’re the ones who can tell reality and fantasy apart?’.
Then again, news commentators get paid to say stuff like that.
Still, the thought of killing people for money or revenge, or the thought of unsolved crimes makes a shiver run down my spine. It terrifies me.
Compared to people who commit such alien violence, I think I’m a very good and innocent human being.
I mean, I’ve never killed anyone.
Off this island, at least.
That’s right.
On this island, I had no choice but to kill.
After all, if I’d never come here, I’d never have killed anyone.
I reaffirmed this fact again today.
I reaffirmed it yesterday, and the day before, too.
I reaffirm the fact that my moniker—Killer Ghoul—is this island’s fault, not mine. That alone brings peace to my heart.
I think I feel at peace with the conclusion because it’s true.
“In other words, this island is the one you should be getting angry at, not me. What do you think?”
“You half-asleep, fruitcake?”
The large Asian man standing before me classified my opinion as half-conscious sleep talk. How could he? My eyes are as clear as ever.
“Son of a bitch… do you even understand your position?” Asks the large man—I think his name was Zhang—with a glare.
My position… Oh. Right. It’s very important to always know your position.
I think people’s lives really depend on how well they know their own position. But whether you take a passionate step forward or come to a cool stop depends on the person.
I focused on my vision, scanning the area to see where I stood.
It was a junkyard inside an island composed of garbage.
Normal islanders never came to this place, where only the truly worthless things were discarded—after all, if you were unlucky you might stumble onto real industrial waste… or so says the owner of my usual ramen place.
Yes. His ramen is incredible. It might be a good idea to steal the recipe and wander the country pulling along my very own ramen stand.
…Right. That’s going on my list of life goals.
It’s a little haphazard, but I don’t think it’s too far-fetched to say that having vision for my own future makes me normal.
…Whoops. I almost got off-track.
Check my position.
To begin with the conclusion, I was in the midst of a commotion.
A group of people, clearly not a friendly bunch, were exuding an aura of hostility.
Men and women, ranging in age from their late teens to their fifties, were gathered as though surrounding me. Add to that all the broken lumber and fallen concrete, and it made for a spectacular image.
From their unified air in spite of their varied appearances, it would not be an exaggeration to say that they were in control of the entire space.
Naturally, I’m on the side that is being controlled.
To be specific, this bunch was the Guard Team—part of the Eastern District, one of the groups that kept order on the island.
Their leader is Jun Sahara. The girl with bangs who was in front of me until just earlier.
After the encounter, she caught me off-guard and snatched back the casino girl, then took off to safety. As though in exchange arrived this strange and terrifying group.
1. In other words,
2. I was in
3. A pickle.
All right… now I clearly understand my position.
I am calm. What a relief. It’s a relief to know that I can stay calm even in a pickle like this.
“I think I’m in a pickle.”
“…”
I just said what came to mind, but Zhang did not seem satisfied with the answer. The creases in his brow deepened, and his glare intensified.
At the same time, one of the Guard Team members lobbed a knife at me, so I twisted out of the way.
What a relief. I can still evade attacks.
If that knife had hit my carotid artery, my forehead, or my heart, I would have died.
But I am, at this moment, alive.
I continue to exercise my will.
It’s so good to be alive.
And if I can still appreciate the light of life, I must be normal.
When I looked forward, Zhang looked like he had swallowed a bug because I dodged the knife.
I had twisted my body to the side, but my face was still looking at him.
After all, his power was what required my attention most in this particular pickle.
Greatest Zhang—a brawler who happens to be champion of the underground wrestling ring, as well as the lieutenant of the Guard Team.
Coming from the Chinese mafia, he must be skilled with guns and knives as well—but he’s not a pro wrestler for nothing. He prefers fighting hand-to-hand.
Supposedly he had stirred up trouble in his homeland and the mafia put a bounty on his head, forcing him to escape to Japan and this island.
A bounty?
That sounds terrifying. The mafia are already the symbol of lawlessness. But once you add stuff like bounties to their reputation… What in the world did this man pull to get himself a bounty?
As I lost myself in thought, Zhang seemed to have taken my silence as pride and spat.
“Chill to the end, huh? You make me sick. …The people you killed might have families too. Well? Ever think about that, you sick monster?”
“…I feel sorry for them. It makes me sad to think of the people left behind. I’m sure they would have lived much more peaceful lives if they’d never come to this island. …This island really is awful.”
I was being honest.
But the creases on Zhang’s forehead only deepened.
As though words were no longer necessary, he glanced at the other Guard Team members.
In an instant, their formation tightened.
I must have made him angry.
Oh. Now that they’re closer, I’m starting to recognize their faces.
Wonderful. I’m feeling a little happy.
Ahead of me to the left is the Spaniard with blue shades. Carlos the gun maniac. He may always be smiling like an idiot, but his marksmanship is world-class. His full metal jackets rarely miss the mark.
I happen to be one of those marks he misses.
I’m not bragging. I’m just lucky.
Huh? Maybe that’s bragging too, in a sense. This is a pickle. Maybe I’ll ask the ramen shop owner later. He seems to have a lot of life experience.
Left of Carlos was a big man with a mohawk, and a middle-aged man wearing sunglasses. They were… hmm. I can’t seem to remember their names. Setting my memory problem aside, I look at the other side.
A woman in bondage gear. She looks young, but I know for a fact that she has two children. I wonder how her husband is taking the fact that she’s part of the Guard Team?
When I turn even further to cast a glance behind me—
There stood the reason I felt a little happy.
Short, shimmering black hair. A slender build and plain clothes.
In her clear eyes swirled the very same enmity that lay in the eyes of everyone else surrounding me.
Nazuna Yukimura. That’s her name.
She is one of the few female members of the Guard Team.
She uses swords, knives, and spears to kill—oh wait, this is the Guard Team—toprotect people. The katana at her side looms imposingly.
To be frank, she distracts me. It’s not a crush yet… is what I’d like to say, but I can’t say so with confidence. In any case, she is beautiful.
Who calls a girl ‘beautiful’ in this day and age, anyway?
But that’s the way I feel. Who cares if it’s outdated? What’s beautiful is beautiful.
As the Guard Team and I ran circles around one another over the course of countless chases(I think they’ve been ordered to capture me alive), I began to get good looks at each and every one of their members.
Eventually, I began to be distracted by one of the few female members of their group.
It’s not love at first sight, but I didn’t have a specific reason. She’s on the pretty side, but I don’t get hung up on appearances. And I have no time to get to know her personality, since we’re on opposing sides. Maybe if we were alone, but there are too many people in the way here. But it’s definitely true that I am distracted by her.
It’s understandable, isn’t it? You could explain why you love someone, but it’s not easy to pinpoint why you started to love someone. Unless the meeting turned out like a stroke of fate, or something important happened to make you fall in love with them.
As I looked at her face with those thoughts in mind, Miss Nazuna cautiously met my gaze. I’m happy to look into her eyes, but it’s a little embarrassing.
As I wondered whether to look away or not, the other members began to whisper to her.
“Look out, Nazuna. He’s got his eye on you.”
“He’s probably gonna try and kill you to break through.”
This is a cruel and hurtful misunderstanding.
But if I want to correct them, I’d have to say the real reason I looked at her. That would be too embarrassing.
As I floundered, she opened her mouth to speak.
“…Just try me.” She said, dead serious.
…It might be a misunderstanding, but my heart skipped a beat when the girl I have an interest in suddenly said that to me.
Is it strange to think this way?
Am I abnormal?
But I think it’s acceptable to be a little abnormal for love’s sake. The moment I realize I’m acting abnormally, it’s no longer abnormal.
Yes. I am not only normal, but calm.
I jumped out of the way as she drew from a sitting stance, and escaped her reach.
As if on cue, the shirtless man with long hair lobbed a bowling ball at me. I dodged out of the way.
The moment I thought I was safe, the man with the mohawk raised his baseball bat. How could he use a baseball bat as a weapon? I would love to inform him that the artisans did not carve out that bat so it could be used to harm people.
But it’s certainly a fitting weapon for a common person to use.
I remember reading once that even in countries with high crime rates, where children know nothing about baseball, baseball bats sell as well as anywhere else.
Setting attacks aside, what about self-defense? I’m sure even the baseball bat artisans will be forgiving if you manage to save someone from punks with one of their works. In fact, they might even be proud.
Although I guess that depends on the artisan. And since I’m not a baseball bat artisan and I’m in no position to be critical, I decided to accept the mohawk man’s choice of weapon.
…Wait. No. No. That was close. They almost had me.
The Guard Team is made up of the personal favorites of Gitarin, leader of the Eastern District. If they wanted, they could get their hands on the best weapons in the world.
…So why do they stick with things like bowling balls and baseball bats? Get serious. I almost want to ask them if they really know what it means to guard someone. …W-wait, the katana is fine.
Which means there’s nothing wrong with Miss Nazuna. Katanas are more helpful than guns in small spaces, and I’ve heard of a female assassin in the U.S. who fought with a katana in each hand. I’m sure she must have been as prim and proper as Miss Nazuna.
Of course, even that assassin couldn’t possibly be a match for her.
Oh, I get it. It’s because I keep using Miss Nazuna as an example for everything that I fall under the impression that I’m falling more for her.
Then again, a lie compressed a hundredfold is bound to become truth. So maybe I really am falling for her, little by little.
But it’s not like that love will ever come to fruition, what with the vendetta she and her friends seem to have against me.
Maybe that forbidden love angle is just making me think about her more.
…At that moment, the tip of the baseball bat came swinging down next to me.
That was close. Talk about a fast one. It probably took less than a second for him to raise that bat and swing it down. If he were swinging horizontally, he could probably make the Major Leagues.
“Slippery as ever, the little rat!” Zhang roared, but by then I was already dodging Carlos’s shots and lunging at the ground.
With both hands on a mound of rubble, I used the momentum from the turn and raised my feet into the air to do a handstand. With my arms alone I pushed myself upwards and slid between the abandoned debris.
It was a narrow gap, but I narrowly got through it. I found an opening along the way, so I kicked up some of the junk at the mohawk man.
“Damn that pest!” Zhang yelled, but a soft scream reached my ears first.
“Ah…”
It’s Miss Nazuna. It looks like she lost her balance because I toppled one of the mounds of rubble. And to make things even better, she was falling toward me. I had no idea she’d come so close. I didn’t expect a sneak attack from her.
The fear of death… was on her face, but it quickly changed to determination. Is she aiming for a suicide attack? Even as she falls, she reaches for the sword at her side.
But it’s too late. She’s completely within my reach—my hand will reach her before she draws.
And it all played out as I expected.
As she fell from the rubble, I grabbed her hand and pulled it, stepping behind her to keep her arm behind her back and prevent her from drawing. I was like a police officer from a cop drama.
If I twisted just a little more, she would feel pain. So I weakened my grip just before that point.
Her arm was warmer than I expected. The wintry chill only emphasized the heat and carried it over to me.
Oh no. My heart is starting to race.
It would be great if she fell for me because of this incident, but that sounds too much like wishful thinking so I should forget about it. …But I can’t help my heart racing.
I am normal. I am most definitely not thinking like a stalker.
But someone wanted to interrupt my little moment of happiness.
“Son of a bitch… why don’t you ever kill us? You don’t even blink when you slaughter thugs on the street.”
“Because I know.” I replied without giving him time to continue. Zhang looked surprised. The others around him seemed to be trying to catch me off-guard, but no one came forward—probably because they were worried about Miss Nazuna.
So I let myself relax and continued.
“Your bonds are powerful. They really are.”
Zhang said nothing.
“So this is what I think. You know in movies and comic books, how when your friend dies, the rest of the team powers up? I think that’s plausibly realistic. I guess I could try to scare you by killing a friend, but you people look like nothing would scare you, and if I did that, I’d really turn the Eastern District against me.”
“You’re already enough of an enemy as it is. And as for that little spiel about powering up… it ever cross your mind that we might just be punks who exist to get whipped by the protagonist?” Carlos said snidely. That didn’t make much sense.
“Wait. But between you people and me, a killer, obviously I’m the bad guy and you’re the protagonists. So the bad guy kills all the good guys in one cut and comes the happy ending…? Is that what you like? Then again, it sounds kind of interesting. Could anyone pull off something like that…?”
“If you know you’re the bad guy here, why not think about repenting for a change?”
Carlos was mocking me. He’s famous for being a lighthearted ladies’ man, and the rumors were all true. The Eastern District really is something if someone like him happens to be one of the best of the best. The Western District is actually easier to fight because they have no flexibility.
“Grk… l-let me go!” Miss Nazuna demanded, still in my grip.
“Oh… I’d appreciate it if you didn’t move so much. I, uh… I won’t do anything with you.”
I… I lied.
Actually, I would like to something with her.
Even if it’s just talking.
But I know there’s no point in confessing to her now.
It’s okay. I can infer at least that much; I’m calm.
It was great that I managed to restrain her, but I hadn’t thought about what to do next.
The Guard Team is different from your garden-variety thugs. For a team that moves on gut instinct, they have excellent teamwork and often corner me with precisely controlled attacks. They’ve even begun to read my movements… Once Jun comes back after dropping off the casino girl, I might even be at a disadvantage.
Jun Sahara seems to be around my age, but she’s not the leader of this team for no reason. She drives back her enemies with incredible judgement and reflexes coupled with horrifying precision.
They really are a scary bunch.
How did I end up becoming one of their targets?
While I was thinking, something broke the stalemate.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
The middle-aged man in sunglasses produced something from his coat pocket.
Expressionless, he pulled the pin from the round, black object in his left hand—
“Evade, Nazuna.”
That’s absurd.
…This is why the Guard Team can be such a pain.
The moment the object flew toward us, I felt Miss Nazuna’s entire body stiffen.
When I launched myself off the ground with her in my arms, I caught a glimpse of the ocean beyond the rubble.
The white waves were shining on the winter sea. They looked beautiful to me.
As I wondered how I should express that emotion, an explosive noise filled the world—
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