"People

are like garbage."

Whenever

I saw people gathered, this line from a famous animated movie[1] sprung to mind.

And I suspected that there were no shortage of people who shared my sentiment.

While

this may not hold true for individuals, when people come together in groups it

is due to hatred. They perceive other people as combustible waste and drop

bombs in the place of incinerators. In any case, they can't help their desire

to set garbage alight.

Let us

suppose that the ent.i.ty known as G.o.d truly exists. That He is a being that

transcends humanity and gazes out over Earth from above. If we hold that to be

the case, then it follows that chaos and disorder please Him. G.o.d does not

desire tranquility. This is surely because He is displeased when such inferior

creatures lose themselves in delusions of grandeur. With His invisible hand, he

leads humanity to the slaughter. He does this not for amus.e.m.e.nt, nor to stave

off boredom, but because of a visceral disgust, much the kind that you or I

would feel upon gazing on an outbreak of insects.

I

suddenly noticed that my reverie had delayed me in my task of duplicating the

words on the blackboard, and I began frantically scrawling.

I

reflected upon my irregular thoughts. These thoughts were certainly not

desirable. Perhaps the reason I was having them was because we had been

learning about how the strong systematically weeded out all others across

history?

That

was divergent from my ideals. The strong and the weak certainly did exist. That

was why I was determined to become strong and, instead of plundering from the

weak, extend them a hand of salvation. To lead them justly. That was the only

method by which true peace could be attained.

What

stood in my way, then, was the kind of evil that would consume mankind in

irrationality. I had to destroy it. ...I see, my thoughts just now were the

result of my hatred towards evil becoming misdirected towards humanity itself.

Evil,

huh.

I gazed

at the seat behind me. It appeared he was absent today, so the seat was empty.

It was the seat belonging to a man who could very well be described as evil

incarnate.

In my

sixteen years of life, I had never met a man so thoroughly twisted as Masato

Yahara. The reason for that lay not in his depravity, nor in his stupidity.

There were likely countless men more opposed to society and more idiotic than

him.

But

upon drawing Yahara's jeers, I recognized wicked nature for what it was. Masato

Yahara was quite literally a monster. He consumes people in as direct a way as

possible. His tentacles reach deep within people's souls. His value system is

so warped that the only way he can confirm his own existence is through the

destruction of others.

The

runaway train that is Yahara long since became derailed. And he believes that

by running people over, he can right his course. But such a thing is of course

absurd. A derailed train cannot find its way back onto the tracks. It will

simply destroy and kill everything in its path, only stopping once it crashes

and destroys itself.

If left

to his own devices, he will no doubt continue consuming people. Like a candy

he's grown bored of, he will chew up and spit out those precious, irreplaceable

souls.

Modern-day

laws are too lenient on such wrong-doers. But even though we all harbor such

feeling of dissatisfaction, society refuses to change. A rotten human cannot be

rehabilitated and will continue to rot, and much the rotten orange from a line

in a certain school-based drama[2] will rot everything around it as well.

But the

filthy rabble of our world continue wriggling about with nary a care. It's

repulsive beyond belief.

Thus

the strong have a duty to root out evil. In that act, they elegantly save the

weak.

Ahh,

it's almost embarra.s.sing how much I love justice, how much I want to become a

hero.

On that

night, I spotted Masato Yahara on my way home from prep school.

In the

end, I tested him. It was a test to determine if his life had worth. He failed

spectacularly; in fact, he scored zero points.

And so

I justly killed him.

The

first thing I had to figure out was how to dispose of the body. No matter how

just my actions were, even if everyone approved of them, today's laws would

never acquit a murderer. Thus I had to cover it up.

Because

he was planning on killing me in the first place, Yahara was kind enough to die

in a place where he would not be quickly found. The optimal outcome for me

would be for his death itself not to come to light and for him to simply be

treated as a missing person, with n.o.body knowing the truth of the incident.

But it

was difficult to imagine the body going forever without being found. This

defunct factory had traces of people coming and going, with lanterns and

blankets and such lying around. The people who came and went were likely filth

of Yahara's ilk.

It

would be best to dispose of the body somewhere harder to come across. If the

body was found like this, it would be treated as evidence of a crime,

autopsied, and the entire affair would then be handled as a murder investigation.

Ideally

the body wouldn't be found, and it wouldn't become an incident. If I could dump

the body in the mountains without being seen, I could avoid being caught.

But

because I was only sixteen, I didn't have a driver's license. I couldn't think

of any way to transport my grim baggage without being seen.

I

needed an accomplice. But who? My parents... even if they acknowledged my

justice, the sight of a corpse would cause them to lose their nerve and

recommend that I turn myself in. Even if they held strong convictions, people

who were faint of heart wouldn't do.

I could

think of a few adults I respected, but any of them would get cold feet once

they saw a corpse, and without looking at the big picture would recommend that

I turn myself in. n.o.body had as strong a sense of justice as I did, nor would

helping me provide any benefit for them.

I was

at a loss. I couldn't think of anyone.

I

couldn't figure out my next step, so with some reluctance I temporarily left

the scene. If somebody happened upon this place, that alone would be curtains

for me.

I wiped

up the blood from the knife and wiped down the places I had touched with a

handkerchief to get rid of my fingerprints. Thankfully, you couldn't see the

spurts of blood against my black uniform. After leaving the factory, I was able

to make my way to the station without running into anyone.

All in

it, it was quite a mental burden on me. As soon as I got home and layed down on

my bed, I slept like a log.

I woke

up. Instantly, the gears in my head began turning. The first thing I did was

check on my smartphone to see whether or not Yahara's body had been discovered.

I checked a number of news sites, but there didn't appear to be any articles

indicating as such. A real-time search didn't show any traces either.

After

descending the stairs and offering rushed greetings to my family, I hopped in

the shower. As I lathered my hair, I racked my brains for a way to dispose of

the unfortunate corpse.

I could

dismember it. But while that was the conventional way to transport a body, I

wasn't exactly inclined to. Even if it was originally the monster that was

Yahara, it was unmistakably a human body. The psychological burden would likely

be substantial. And in the one-in-a-million chance the body was discovered, the

fact that it could no longer pa.s.s for an accident was another strike against

this method.

So I

was back to wanting to transport the body as it was to somewhere people

wouldn't find it, then disposing of it. That conclusion hadn't changed.

There

was no school on Sat.u.r.days, so I ran searches for terms related to the incident

on my phone while watching the news in the living room. It was odd for me to be

fiddling with my phone instead of studying, so my family seemed somewhat

suspicious, but I doubted they suspected me of murder. I needn't pay them much

mind.

I

wanted to transport the body by vehicle, but I still couldn't come up with an

accomplice. Although it was of course too late at this point, events already

proceeding as they were, I began to regret having killing Yahara. If I had

killed him in a more thought-out manner, I could have avoided this whole mess.

The

next time I have to kill someone, I'll make sure to think it out first.

Someone

I have to kill, on the same level as Masato Yahara. I wonder who that could be?

"―"

With

that thought fresh in my mind, I thought of a partner. Returning to my room, I

began to think of ways to sway him to my side. At the moment, he and I had

essentially no common ground.

But

then I thought of an extremely simple method.

I spent

the rest of Sat.u.r.day preparing, and then it was Sunday. At three in the

afternoon on the dot, I stood in front of a local convenience store. I entered

the shop, and after a few uses of the ATM had successfully withdrawn a million

yen[3]. After consistently saving my allowance and my New Year's money, that sum

amounted to my net worth.

Not

seeing the man I was searching for, I headed outside and was greeted with the

sight of my target wearing the shop's uniform and listlessly taking out the

trash. He didn't seem to be on break, but he was smoking regardless. Because I

lived nearby, I happened to know that he would be working part-time at this

hour on Sundays.

"Yamazaki-senpai."

Ryuusuke

Yamazaki turned to me while holding his cigarette in his mouth, his expression

sullen. At any rate, it looked like his vulgar blond hair was taking a few

points off his IQ.

"Who

the f.u.c.k are you?"

"I'm

Shuuichi Akiyama, the representative of cla.s.s 1-2."

"No,

like, who the f.u.c.k are you? What business would a high and mighty cla.s.s

rep like you have with someone like me? Don't f.u.c.kin' tell me you're gonna rat

me out to the school for smoking."

Ignoring

his idiotic question, I got straight to the point.

"I

heard that you know how to drive. Do you have your own car?"

I had

seen him drive a black station wagon to get her, but I wanted to confirm it

just in case.

Likely

excited to brag about his car, Yamazaki's face lit up.

"Yeah, I'm

working here to pay 'er off. ...What's your deal, you like my car? You wanna go

for a ride in the pa.s.senger seat, huh? Sorry man, that seat's reserved for

chicks who put out. I'm not into that f.a.g stuff."

Not

wanting to play along with his vulgar banter, I pulled out the million I had

just withdrawn and handed it to him. At the sight of such a large quant.i.ty of

cash, Yamazaki's eyes went wide.

"Wha...

You...! The f.u.c.k's this cash for?"

His

reaction was exactly what I expected, and I struggled to stifle my laughter.

With

his mouth hanging open and a stupid expression plastered on his face, Yamazaki

didn't even wait for a proper explanation to begin counting the bills. With his

glittering eyes and his agitated, wild breathing, he was the very image of a

swine unable to contain itself at the sight of slop. Unable to defy his brain's

newfound addiction, he would no doubt act exactly as I needed him to.

"I have

a favor I need to ask of you. Would you be willing to undertake it?"

Yamazaki

stopped the car in the parking lot of a defunct convenience store near the site

of the factory. I was slightly concerned about being seen, but thanks to the

various illegally-parked cars we weren't exactly conspicuous. If we didn't stay

long, I doubted it would be a problem.

"So

Akiyama, you're really gonna pay me a mil for one day's work? Also, where the

h.e.l.l are we?"

After

stopping the car, Yamazaki was understandably on guard as he surveyed the area.

"I

didn't lie. More importantly, did you prepare everything I asked you to?"

Wanting

to avoid creating links between myself and Yamazaki, I hadn't told him my phone

number or LINE ID. He seemed like a somewhat careless man, so I was concerned

he hadn't bought everything I had requested.

"Yeah,

it's all in the trunk. Whatcha gonna do with all that?"

I

verified the contents of the trunk. Inside was a large black vinyl sheet, a

roll of cloth tape, and some rope. Tools to transport a corpse.

"Everything

seems to be in order. We'll be carrying it all to the site of that factory."

"...No

complaints here, I guess."

Although

he had some misgivings, the million yen sapped his desire to object and he

walked inside the building.

"f.u.c.k,

it stinks in here!"

Just as

Yamazaki said, the moment we stepped inside we were greeted by a smell

reminiscent of a mound of rotting fish. It was so like Yahara to resemble trash

to the end. Of course he would stink if he rotted — and as soon as that thought

crossed my mind, I reflected. I left the corpse here all this time, but due to

the smell the odds of it being discovered were higher than I had projected.

"Wait,

that's-"

The

body was lying there, wrapped in blankets. The blankets were stained red with

blood.

"It's a

corpse."

Yamazaki's

face initially contorted, but eventually settled into a vulgar grin.

"I

get it. Now I get what you're havin' me do."

On the

off chance that he had gotten cold feet when faced with a corpse, it was

thinkable that he would reject my request. Showing him the cash up front was a

countermeasure against that. While people can put up with losing an opportunity

to gain something, they exhibit extreme resistance to giving up something they

initially thought was theirs.

But it

seemed my fear had been unfounded.

"Makes

sense that you'd pull out that mil, then. h.e.l.l, you're practically gettin' off

cheap."

I

hadn't been expecting him to suggest I turn myself in. So that was his

response, hmm. He didn't examine my complexion, nor did he take interest in the

corpse itself — his first instinct was to try and wring more money out of me.

Thank

goodness he was so faithful to his desires.

"You

the one who offed him?"

"That

was the result, yes. It was legitimate self-defence, but there isn't anybody

who can verify that."

"I

getcha, I getcha. So you got no choice but to hide it."

The

corners of his mouth upturned, Yamazaki drew near the corpse with no sign of

hesitation. To my surprise, he turned over the blankets himself. His lack of

resistance made me doubt whether or not he might be a psychopath.

"Huh?

...Yo, Akiyama! This f.u.c.ker's Masato Yahara!

"That

is indeed my cla.s.smate Masato Yahara. You can piece together why I had to come

all the way out here, I gather?"

"This

guy jumped you, and when you fought back he ended up eatin' it, something along

those lines, right? d.a.m.n, I always had him pegged for one of those guys

who wouldn't die even if you killed 'em, but he up and died pretty d.a.m.n easily,

huh?"

"Did

you and Masato Yahara know each other?"

"Nah, I

just heard that he was one bad motherf.u.c.ker and steered clear of him. Y'know,

there were those rumors that he took down a whole gang and that he was the

leader of some prost.i.tution ring. And I heard that one of my senpai's

friends tried to get up in this guy's business for being cheeky or some s.h.i.+t,

and this guy almost stabbed him."

I was

a.s.saulted by waves of repugnance. It would appear my decision to kill him had

been correct.

"So

what's up next, boss?"

"First,

we'll conceal the body in the blankets and vinyl sheet and carry it out. We'll

take the weapon with us too. I'm pretty sure I wiped off all the blood already,

but I'll double-check so that on the off chance there's any left I can wipe it

off. Once all that is finished, it shouldn't be possible for anyone to narrow

the scene of the crime down to this location."

"Other

than me, that is."

I

wondered if that was a veiled threat.

"Heh

heh."

Without

thinking, I laughed inwardly.

He

reacted just as I suspected he would, without a micron of deviation.

Ahh,

thank goodness.

Choosing

Ryuusuke Yamazaki as my partner truly was the right decision.

Once we

had loaded the body into his trunk, I left the transportation and disposal to

Yamazaki and headed home. After travelling by train, bus, foot the previous

day, I had found an ideal disposal site deep in the mountains. If Yamazaki

followed my instructions and dug a hole and buried him in it, it was unlikely

Yahara's corpse would ever be discovered. Leaving that task to Yamazaki alone

caused me no end of anxiety, but it was less dangerous than me being seen in

his car, so I didn't have much choice. In a perfect world, n.o.body would think

that Yamazaki and I had any relations.h.i.+p.

But one

of my calculations was off.

I had

underestimated how incompetent Yamazaki was.

One

week had pa.s.sed since Yamazaki took the body up into the mountains. It was

Monday morning, and as had become a habit for me I was scrolling through a

real-time news feed on my phone when my drowsiness was blasted away. There was

a posting about a body being

discovered in the aforementioned mountains. Leaping from my bed, I ran into the

living room and clung to the television. The news was reporting that Masato

Yahara's body had been discovered by a hiker. I listened in shock as the

announcer described how his ident.i.ty had been confirmed by the student ID card

in his pocket.

Ryuusuke Yamazaki.

Not only did that incompetent not bury the body, he even ignored my order to

strip it. And on top of that, he left the student ID? How incompetent could one

man be? If he had thought about it for half a second, he'd realize just how

problematic that was! Even if dumping a body was a crime, just how overactive

was this guy's sense of danger?

"Shuu! You look

awful, what happened?"

My mother shouted in

a shrill soprano. As always, her voice rattled around in my head.

Frantically

controlling my breathing, I spoke with feigned composure.

"It's nothing to

worry about, Mother. ...I'll be heading to school now."

But my voice was

trembling. Just as my mother had pointed out, my face was white as a sheet.

"Don't be ridiculous!

With you looking like that, there's no way there's nothing wrong!"

In reality, I was

fighting back fury. Fear and anxiety were secondary. Contempt. Hatred.

Resentment. Such emotions were the cause of my trembling.

All that filth can do

is weigh down the excellent, it seemed. Far beyond being useless, they were

hindrances. Their very existence soiled the earth.

"Shuu... You're

staying home today."

Upon seeing my

abnormal condition, my mother, who would normally insist I go to school even if

I had a fever, commanded me. While this was odd in and of itself, it was

surpa.s.sed by the suspicion I would no doubt arise if I didn't attend school

today.

I took a deep breath

to settle myself.

Visions of that

defunct factory invaded my mind. Ever since I stabbed Masato Yahara, I couldn't

break my mind free of that place. It was like it was binding my soul against my

will. Why should I, who acted in accordance with justice, have to go through

all this?

Suddenly, my mind was

plunged into black and white and I was a.s.sailed with pain deep within my eyes.

Black and white particles crawled along my skin and penetrated my pores,

filling me with an itching sensation as they violated me.

Ahh, back at that

factory there was a press I couldn't figure out the purpose of. What was it

capable of crus.h.i.+ng? What was it capable of crus.h.i.+ng?

What did it want to

crush?

A gigantic press. A

press to thoroughly crush them. A press to thoroughly crush their eyeb.a.l.l.s and

their bones and their nails and their organs and their genitals and their blood

into pulp. We could collect up that formless meat with bulldozers. Splat, splat,

splat. We could intentionally do it loudly. The noise is pleasantly obscene,

after all. Splat, splat, splat. We could envision their soundless screams as we

gleefully make meatb.a.l.l.s from their meat. Perhaps the meatb.a.l.l.s would be black,

or red, or pink. It would be cannibalism. We would force-feed them the

meatb.a.l.l.s. While crying, they would break out into a mad dance at how delicious

they were. They're delicious, aren't they? All squishy and sticky and squishy.

While making vulgar noises, they would feast. While descending into madness,

they would feast. Once they realized what the meatb.a.l.l.s were made of, they

wouldn't even wait for the press before consuming their comrades. They would be

so tasty they wouldn't be able to help themselves. They would be unable to help

themselves when faced with their desires. They would be eaten alive. They would

scream in pain. n.o.body would save them. People like them have no empathy, so

they can't comprehend the pain of others. I would laugh as I gazed out upon

them. Meatb.a.l.l.s. In the end, you filth were nothing but meatb.a.l.l.s. Just like

the giant meatball there, you all are nothing but bundles of meat. Bundles

without souls. The final survivor of the cannibalism would cry out. Where are

the delicious meatb.a.l.l.s? He would ask me. Please bring me more! Please bring me

more meatb.a.l.l.s! He would entreat me. And I would point to where the meatball

was. And he would eat the meatball I was pointing at. He would eat it with

great relish. He would eat with delight, he would eat with madness. He would

eat his own meat. He would eat himself. I would clutch my stomach and laugh.

Indeed. All you people do is consume yourselves. I would point that out out of

kindness. I would point out what kind of beings you are.

"Shuu!"

My mother's shout

brought me back from my world of delusions.

"It

looks like you're right, I'd better stay home today..."

After

whispering that, I tottered back to my room. I couldn't walk straight. And as

if I had released too much energy in that last vision, I couldn't think

straight either.

As I

layed on my bed, I took deep breaths to settle down my heart. But the

electrical signals in my brain were going haywire, and I was so itchy I

practically scratched my head off.

I

couldn't settle down. The grotesque images wouldn't stop.

A

thousand knives. A shower of blood. Flesh warped like clay.

I shook

my head to try to drive out the delusions. If my mind went blank, they would

get inside me!

—Get

inside me?

Wouldn't

that imply that they weren't my thoughts in the first place?

I could

sense it myself. The fact that these thoughts were both dangerous and abnormal.

That they were undesirable. So why wouldn't they stop?

I

didn't know. I myself didn't know.

"Heh

heh heh..."

Suddenly,

I could hear laughter. Contemptuous, disparaging laughter.

"Man,

how defective are you? You don't know?"

Leaping

out of my bed, I scanned the room.

I was

at a loss for words.

Where

was I? What was going on?

It felt

like I was standing atop the heart of a tremendous beast. Everywhere I looked

was reddish-brown and pulsing. Magma that smelled of blood was spurting. It

smelled like something was decomposing, too. The air was filled with refuse,

making it impossible to see clearly. Something important to the world was

clearly stagnating.

Ahh, it

was so unsightly it make me sick.

And yet

something strangely excited me. My breath grew wild, and I wanted to leap in

the air.

I see,

this must be that factory. Is this real? Is this a delusion? I don't know. The

boundary between the two seemed vague.

"You've

done yourself a pretty good job of crus.h.i.+ng us, I see."

Masato

Yahara stood in front of me. His entrance was abrupt, but to me it seemed like

the most natural thing in the world.

"I

crushed you. Certainly, I did crush you. But what of it? All of this is simply

a delusion."

"A

delusion, huh? Quite the f.u.c.ked-up delusion you cooked up there. Weren't you

supposed to be all upright and clean handed and s.h.i.+t?"

Yahara's

face contorted into a sneer.

"...Shut

your mouth, meat-man. If this is the world of my delusions, everything should

go according to my whim. I'll simply crush you into delicious meatb.a.l.l.s."

"Heh...

Just f.u.c.kin' try, I dare you."

He put

up no resistance, and I dropped the ma.s.sive press on him. Splat! The sound of

something soft being crushed rang out, and the vicinity was painted red. It was

over too soon.

My

being crushed was over too soon.

"Why?"

There

was no consistency or anything in my mental image. Yet I ended up being

crushed. Despite no longer having vocal cords, I whispered "why?" one more

time.

"It's

one f.u.c.ked-up delusion, right?"

Why,

even though it was a delusion, had it come to such a grotesque end? Why was

Masato Yahara standing there as if it were natural?

"It

can't be...!"

I

finally understood the meaning of Yahara's words.

"You

got the feeling that you were being violated a minute ago, right? It's simple. I

don't have a body, so it's easy as h.e.l.l for me to get inside you."

Yahara's

discontent sneer didn't fade.

"This

ain't your delusion. Your thoughts ain't your own. You ain't even yourself any

more."

I was

no more than a piece of meat now, and he trampled me underfoot.

"I'm

in control of this world now."

I

opened my eyes. I felt awful. I had an unpleasant dream, but I couldn't

remember what it was about.

Why was

it, I wondered? I was certain the dream had been unpleasant, yet I felt oddly

refreshed. It was like the exhilarating sensation you got after overcoming a

nasty fever. But it was clear to me that I had lost something in exchange for

that exhilaration. I had lost it entirely. And I could never get it back.

But

that was fine. I had been freed from a needless attachment. People were

creatures that feared change, but that reaction was no more than an unthinking

dismissal.

My

strict adherence to ethics vanished.

Ahh...

it welcomes me.

It was

opening in front of me—

—a new

world.

Perhaps

that odd dream was a gift from G.o.d? From then on, everything I did went

perfectly. Solving problem sets, my reading comprehension, advancing projects I

was working on, everything was going brilliantly. My ability to concentrate was

clearly improving as well. Not letting it get mixed in with the noise, nor

getting distracted, I could immerse myself in a single task.

It was

like I finally had my priorities all in order. It wasn't anything conscious.

But it felt like I had built a solid set of unconscious rules.

It was

after school. The cla.s.sroom was illuminated by the setting sun, making my

cla.s.smates' shadows stand out. But I could no longer make their faces out from

each other. My mind s.h.i.+rked its duties, deciding that this point was of little

importance.

Amongst

them, one person's face remained clear.

I had

to verify his character.

"Hiiragi,

I have something I would like to ask you. Could I have a moment of your time?"

Kouta

Hiiragi. As far as I knew, he was Masato Yahara's one and only friend.

From

his appearance he was the epitome of normality, far removed from the kind of

person I was obligated to eliminate. But his closeness to Yahara merited

caution.

"When

he was still with us, would it be correct to say that you were the one who with

the closest with Yahara?"

I began

probing him. If he was of the same breed as Yahara, it naturally fell upon me

to cull him.

"I

wonder, was it true that Yahara was involved in some rather unwholesome

affairs? Well...I refer to affairs in the broad sense, by the way. Perhaps that

alone makes it not unusual he was involved in this incident. There were various

things published about him in those periodicals, weren't there? Were you

completely unaware of all that?"

"I

knew about the stimulants. But he never mentioned anything about any gangs or

prost.i.tution rings or anything. He didn't show any signs of being involved with

them, either. I'm pretty sure that's all just misinformation."

"Perhaps

you weren't close enough to Yahara to involve you in things like that? Are you

saying that he never to bring you into his group of delinquent companions?"

"Pretty

much. He didn't involve me in sketchy stuff like that. He never even ate lunch

with me, let alone tried to get me to smoke or anything. If we were around each

other we'd chat, if the timing worked out we'd walk home together. But he

definitely never tried to coerce me, and he never invited me anywhere. That was

about the extent of our relations.h.i.+p. I'm sure that if I ever stopped

wanting to spend time around him and started avoiding him, he wouldn't have so

much as spoken to me."

I

scrutinized his words, but other than the fact that he had kept silent about

the stimulants nothing he was saying seemed particularly problematic. However,

there remained the possibility that he was playing dumb so as not to fall under

suspicion.

Furthermore,

the fact that had adored Yahara was clear.

My

initial conclusion was that there was no need to prioritize marking him.

Something along those lines.

"So,

why do you ask?"

A

phrase floated to the front of my mind.

It

would not be so strange for you to be killed as well.

He

might be evil enough to warrant elimination.

Indeed,

it was imperative that I identify those people that warranted elimination. That

was the decree I had been given upon killing Masato Yahara and evolving past

the ordinary.

But

putting that to words would be problematic. Although I had utmost faith in my

sense of justice, I was under no pretenses that the rest of the world would

accept it so readily. Long ago, Galileo was put to trial for his advocacy of

the heliocentric model.

"I suspect

that the reason that Yahara was killed was the fact that he was sticking his

hand in dangerous places. Following that reasoning, I felt it was possible that

you, as his friend, might be in danger of meeting a similar fate. Am I

mistaken?"

It was

possible he would misconstrue my reply, so I followed up with my true feelings.

"In

fact, I was thinking—that it would not be so strange for you to be killed as

well."

Hiiragi

wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so I thought it unlikely that he would

pick up on my true goal.

But

contrary to my expectations, Hiiragi reacted to my words.

"...What

makes you s.p.a.ce out so?"

"I,

I'm not-"

Perhaps

he was more clever than I gave him credit for? Was he simply a.s.suming a facade

of mediocrity? Had he been hiding the fact that he was of the same breed as

Yahara, that he was a person that I needed to eliminate?

It

seemed that my guard had been too lax a moment ago.

In any

case, it would be best to end this conversation peacefully, in order to keep up

appearances. But the moment I thought to make preparations to depart, something

unthinkable happened.

"Oy, is

Akiyama around?"

That

incompetent loudly called out for me.

You

have to be joking. After all the warnings I gave him about avoiding been seen

together, for him to brazenly show up like this... My opinion of him as

incompetent remained unrevised.

But I

couldn't simply ignore him. Leaving Hiiragi with some empty words, I headed to

Yamazaki.

Saying

that he wanted to go somewhere away from others, Yamazaki lead me to the

audiovisual room. Normally the door would be locked, but Yamazaki threaded a

wire into the keyhole and the door opened in no time. The long desk was already

adorned with open snack wrappers and empty bottles, so I conjectured that

Yamazaki and his compatriots made frequent use of the room.

Standing

in front of a large projector, Yamazaki spread his hands like a politician

giving a speech.

"Let's

chat about my circ.u.mstances a bit. My mom and I live alone. She got

tricked by some jacka.s.s who ghosted her, and had me when she was just

seventeen. Around that time, her folks, meaning my gram and gramps, cut ties

with her, so she had to raise me all by her lonesome. She's running f.u.c.kin'

ragged, man, she mans a register at a supermarket in the afternoon and has to

work a nightclub in the evenings. I just wanna treat her, you feel me?

Like, I wanna take her out for barbeque or somethin'. That's where I'm

comin' from."

A story

the world could do without hearing.

"Would

you mind if I helped you cut to the chase? To put it plainly, you're looking

for more money, correct?"

"d.a.m.n,

you catch on quick! That's our favorite cla.s.s rep for ya'!"

I could

tell from his reaction to seeing the corpse that he would eventually try to

extort more money out of me. Here it was.

Of

course, I had no money left. The million I had already given him was my entire

net worth, the result of years of scrimping and saving.

"Yamazaki-senpai.

I do not have any more money."

"Oh?"

"And

although it pains me to point out the failures of another, the body was

discovered because you failed to follow my instructions and bury it properly.

While we both have our dissatisfactions, shall we simply call it good at that?"

"The

f.u.c.k? You got any d.a.m.n proof I didn't bury it right? Who knows, maybe

some wild animals dug it up or somethin'? And besides, there's no need to get

your panties in a bunch. If they can't figure out where the guy was offed,

there's no way in h.e.l.l they could pin it on you."

Had

this man never heard of crisis management?

"Well, I

guess if I hadn't transported it for ya they'd have figured you out in a

heartbeat. And now I gotta deal with all this guilt and s.h.i.+t. It's

keeping me up at night, man. The f.u.c.k kinda person are you, tellin' me to go

dump poor little Maa in the mountains. f.u.c.k, now I feel like turnin'

myself in."

"Senpai,

we would both be in a deal of trouble of the truth of the incident came out.

Dumping a body is a serious crime, you know."

Yamazaki

laughed mockingly.

"Don't

make me f.u.c.kin' laugh. Yeah, I'd be in some trouble. But who gives a

s.h.i.+t about that. But you absolutely can't let the truth get out. That's the

only thing you can afford to give a s.h.i.+t about. Even if it's the tiniest

f.u.c.kin' chance, you can't ignore it."

Apparently

his cunning was the only thing this man was good for. As he surmised, my

previous words had been a hollow threat. It was like telling a man holding you

at gunpoint that he'd go to jail if he shot you. It went without saying who had

the initiative.

"...How

much do you want?"

"Another

million, for now."

For

now.

Those

words stuck in my head, words that indicated that more demands would eventually

be forthcoming.

"Do you

really think a high schooler like myself could quickly come up with a sum like

that?"

"You

say some funny s.h.i.+t, man. The h.e.l.l's that got to do with me?"

The

bell rang. Yamazaki smirked as he thumped me on the back.

"I'm

countin' on ya, killer."

After

saying that, he raised one hand and left the audiovisual room.

The

sound of the door closing echoed throughout the room, cutting through the

silence. The silence in the room felt like it was reproaching my own silence,

so I forced my mouth open.

"Haha..."

My joy

leaked out.

And

when it did,

"Ahahahahahahahahahaha!"

It was

too funny.

"The

h.e.l.l does that have to do with him? The h.e.l.l does that have to do with him

indeed!"

Yamazaki

hadn't doubted me in the slightest. He hadn't doubted that he was on the side

doing the taking. A million yen? There was no way I would pay such a sum.

Yamazaki said some amusing things. I absolutely couldn't let the truth

get out. That was the only thing I could afford to give a s.h.i.+t about.

Quite

so.

Nothing,

least of all money, has anything to do with a man who is about to die.

I had

decided on it from the very beginning. When I couldn't find a n.o.ble individual

to request transportation from, when I couldn't find an accomplice, I realized

something.

As long

as the transporter was also someone I could eliminate, I wouldn't have any

problems.

Yamazaki,

the finest sc.u.m known to man, was the last piece of evidence I needed to

destroy. There would be n.o.body left who knew the truth.

But for

him to mistake himself for being in a commanding position, oh, how precious I

could laugh.

Ryuusuke

Yamazaki.

You

will fall into the hole I dug and die.

It's

that factory. I was at that defunct factory again.

Just like

last time, I exterminated him. I wielded a knife with the intent to kill him.

Not

hesitating with the knife, he provoked me by stabbing at my heart. But that

wasn't enough to cause me to draw back. I had resolved to kill him from the

get-go.

I

thrusted back and stabbed him in the chest.

There

was almost no resistance. But I could sense that it was the real thing. Human

flesh was softer than I had expected, and it gave surprisingly little

resistance.

I

quietly drew the knife from Yahara. Blood spurted out. The blood got on my

face, covering up my sight. The warm liquid was sticky and unpleasant.

Yahara's

body toppled to the floor.

"You

needed to be eliminated. The world would be better off before you committed a

sin that could not be undone."

"Is

that so?"

"What...?"

His

wound should have been fatal, but he simply stood back up as if nothing had

happened.

"What,

you don't follow? I'm saying you ain't able to do stuff like that."

Although

he was still dripping with blood, Yahara looked down on me.

"Just

shut up and die already, d.a.m.n you!"

I

stabbed him again. Actually, unsatisfied by his flesh's give, I stabbed him

over and over.

But

Yahara just stood up again and again, laughing like a madman all the while. He

seemed completely unfazed by his countless wounds.

"Quit

messing with me... Why won't you die! Just die! Die! Die!"

Stab.

Stab. Stab.

Rise.

Rise. Rise.

"Why...

why, G.o.dd.a.m.nit!"

No

matter how many times I stabbed him, Yahara refused to die. He was vomiting

blood, his bowels were hanging out, yet he just kept gazing at me with his

protruding eye and sneering.

"You

can't kill me. Not as long as you're alive, anyway. That's just how it works."

He

spoke with his tongue hanging out and pointed at me.

I gazed

down at myself in suspicion.

"Wh-!"

My body

had been ripped to shreds. Similar to Yahara's... no, exactly like Yahara's.

"Why?

Why is this happening to me! What did you do to me, Yahara?"

"Wait, I

did something? Heh... I didn't do jack s.h.i.+t, man."

"Then...

then what's going on? Why am I covered in wounds?"

"Well

hot d.a.m.n. You still don't know what's going on? Who's the one holding the knife

here? Who's the one stabbing away? Who's the nutcase here?"

It went

without saying, it was—

"Right,

it's you. You're the one f.u.c.king yourself up."

Yahara

caressed my cheek with a blood-soaked hand.

"C'mon,

brother. If you wanna kill me, all you gotta go do is drag your sorry a.s.s to

the top of a cliff and take a dive."

Once I

realized the meaning of his words, my dumbfounded face must have been quite the

sight. Unable to hold it in, Yahara clutched his viscera-drenched stomach and

gave a booming laugh.

"Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

He kept

laughing.

"Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

Before

I realized it, I was laughing too.

It was

so funny I couldn't help but laugh.

It was

the same thing, after all.

Yahara

laughing and me laughing were the same thing, after all.

Our

voices overlapped and joined into one. They were the same from the very start.

There was no way Yahara, who didn't have a body, could laugh, which meant that

I was simply laughing by myself.

If you

put the two of us side-by-side in a mirror, we were reverses of each other. We

were like opposites. But when looked at from the right angle, opposites were

actually identical. It was like how hatred, the opposite of love, was close

enough to its counterpart that they could practically be called the same

emotion.

Black

and white a.s.similated with each other.

In

recognizing that, I made it my strength.

I had

affirmed who I was.

I found

a suitable "stepping stone," so I set my plan into action. It wasn't something

I had planned, but rather a stroke of good fortune. My mind was clear, and I

wasn't about to let a chance like that slip away from me. All that was left to

do was fasten a rope to the roof and place Yamazaki atop the "stepping stone".

Exalted

at this favorable turn of events, I was beginning to make my way home when I

spotted something that surpa.s.sed all my expectations.

I

gasped reflexively.

Was

that Kouta Hiiragi and Ririko Matsumi having a conversation?

Ririko

Matsumi. One of the people I was cautious around. While she wasn't exactly

evil, she was an inorganic substance whose existence held no meaning. Because

she was inorganic, she couldn't interact with humans.

But even

in the face of such an inorganic ent.i.ty, Hiiragi was speaking to Ririko Matsumi

as if they were old friends.

What

exactly was going on here?

This

wasn't something I could simply overlook. I rushed over to Hiiragi and asked

him about his relations.h.i.+p with Ririko Matsumi.

"I

don't know about close, but we've talked a few times."

He's

talked with that inorganic substance "a few times"? How was that even possible?

An odd

sense of unease washed over me. The fact that Hiiragi was abnormal in that

regard was a conclusion I arrived at not from reason, but from instinct.

"Do

have a habit of getting involved with people like her?"

Concealing

my emotions, I dug deeper.

"'People

like her'?"

"Forgive

my wording, but people with problems. Ririko Matsumi, Masato Yahara, and

perhaps we should count Miki Kouzuki as well."

"It's

not like I'm intentionally hanging out with weird people..."

"But

you're awfully close to a number of them. And you don't seem to be particularly

close to anyone else."

"I

mean, it's true that I don't have many close friends..."

"And

you say that you don't seek those kind of people out deliberately? If that's

the case, then perhaps you hold some sort of fascination from their

perspective?"

Hiiragi

was the kind of person who seemed harmless at a glance. His interactions with

Masato Yahara initially put me on guard, but if it hadn't been for that I

likely wouldn't inspected him at all.

But

that was exactly why it was such a serious problem.

If it

turned out that Hiiragi was truly a man who needed to be eliminated like Yahara

or Yamazaki, then that meant that a problem individual was hiding within

somebody I couldn't currently get a read on. If that was the case, then that

meant that the range of people I needed to kill was much wider than I thought.

There would be no end to them.

How

long would I have to carry this purge out for?

Suddenly,

Hiiragi realized that I was looking at him with wide eyes. That wouldn't do. My

emotions were showing.

I

exhaled and calmed my expression.

"I

apologize. It would appear I've said some rather untoward things. Please forget

I said any of that. I guess the incident has just made me a little

high-strung."

If I

was simply high-strung, how high-strung should I be?

The

first thing I needed to consider was why Hiiragi had gotten so close with

Yahara. There were as many detriments to being around him as there were stars

in the sky. As a matter of fact, Hiiragi had earned the trepidation of his

cla.s.smates, and had been unable to make any close friends since. And by

spending time with a delinquent, he found himself in the teachers' bad books as

well.

But in

spite of all that, he had gotten close to Yahara. Such a thing would be

unthinkable would proportionally large benefits.

Occam's

razor would dictate that there was some manner of utility value in that

relations.h.i.+p.

—Utility

value. Was he was interested in the stimulants? Was he interesting in sleeping

with women Yahara could provide him? No... a man with desires so base would

have been outed as evil in an instant. The fact that he was not obviously evil

was the problem.

What

other benefits could there be, then? What could Masato Yahara even be used for,

save stirring the flames of his homicidal urges in order to have him kill

somebody? And n.o.body save a demon would wish for—

—wait,

have him kill somebody?

Was

that line of thinking truly so irrational as to be worthy of immediate

rejection? At any rate, I myself was on the brink of being killed. That was the

unwavering truth.

...What

if, and this is only a hypothetical, what if it was possible to manipulate

Yahara's actions?

I had

to remember the scene I had just seen. Kouta Hiiragi was talking familiarly

with the machine girl, Ririko Matsumi. He was even going out with the

self-proclaimed magus Miki Kouzuki. Was it possible that the two of them had

been teaching him ways to manipulate others? Was I leaping to conclusions?

...But even if it wasn't to that extent, the fact that Hiiragi's circ.u.mstances

were peculiar was true beyond a doubt.

Indeed,

something about Kouta Hiiragi was clearly making me uneasy. There was something

about him that was different from other people.

"I'm

worried about you, Hiiragi."

With

those words, I tested Hiiragi. If he was the kind of person I needed to worry

about, he might understand what I truly meant.

I

prayed that Hiiragi would take my words normally. I didn't want to believe that

there was a strain of evil in this world so wily that I couldn't immediately

identify it.

But

much to my regret, Hiiragi's face scrunched up at my words' disagreeable

nature. He had clearly picked up on their implication.

"What

do you mean by 'worried about'?"

Perhaps

trying to trick me, he asked an innocent-sounding question.

"Hmm? I

mean that I'm worried about you getting caught up in this incident, of course.

What else might I mean?"

I

considered Hiiragi's reactions up until this point. It seemed likely that he

possessed powerful mind-reading abilities. There were too many things that

didn't make sense otherwise.

Now,

let's examine the facts once more.

Would

it have been possible for Hiiragi to have been manipulating Yahara?

The

answer was that it would. Given his level of mind-reading ability, it would be

possible to antic.i.p.ate how the other party would react to what you did and

said. If you applied this knowledge, you could intentionally say and do things

to influence the other party.

I

wasn't sure as to what extent this ability could accomplish. But there was one

thing I was sure of.

Kouta

Hiiragi would have been capable of meddling with Masato Yahara's murder.

The

motive was straightforward. When possessing that much power, it would be only

human to want to test it. And it went without saying that manipulating a

deviant like Yahara would be far more entertaining that manipulating an average

person.

Hiiragi

was putting his revulsion towards me on full display, so I asked him a

question.

"What's

the matter?"

"...I

have to get going."

He left

without answering, practically fleeing. He might have caught a glimpse at my

thoughts just now.

I

didn't know the degree to which Hiiragi had influenced Yahara's actions. But

the conclusion was clear.

—The

fact that I was almost killed was Hiiragi's fault.

A

difficult wrong to forgive.

A

villain I needed to eliminate.

"...He's

next."

After

Ryuusuke Yamazaki, the next person I would eliminate was Kouta Hiiragi.

Now

then, a decision becoming reality warrants but a short digression.

That

night, Ryuusuke Yamazaki fell from the school roof and died.

He died

because he had to die.

That's

all there was to it.

As I

emotionlessly watched Yamazaki's fall from the school parking lot, I considered

how best to corner Kouta Hiiragi.