Case 2: 【The Daily Life of Kill Wonder】

"I wonder, do human brains have something like hidden commands?"

At my sudden question, Kamihatsu Ishihasuzuna's mouth fell open in a perfect circle, and she froze.

It was the face of someone trying to return a comment but ultimately failing to say anything.

"Don't look so blatantly troubled, Hasuzuna-chan."

"Ah, no, um, sorry. So, what is it? Hidden commands?"

Hasuzuna-chan was sitting on the sofa in my workspace, enjoying the special black tea I had brewed, but she dutifully returned her cup to the table before entering conversation mode.

"You know, like in video games. Secret commands not listed in the manual. Pressing buttons on the controller in a specific order. You don't play games?"

"Not really, no. You're surprisingly a gamer, Sensei?"

"I played a lot. I especially love retro games."

"Retro is great, isn't it! You can feel the history."

What a thin, flimsy comment. She definitely doesn't understand the appeal. But she's cute, so it's fine.

The rookie editor Hasuzuna-chan is twenty-two, fresh out of university. I hope she doesn't lose that unguarded honesty.

"So, usually when you input a hidden command, the game character becomes stronger."

"Just by inputting it?"

"Right. No items needed, no effort required, they just become outstandingly strong."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"It is cheating. So, I'm wondering if we couldn't do something dream-like like that in reality."

"Haa…… Um, look here, Ainonaki-sensei, what are you thinking about right in the middle of the final crunch?"

"Because it's the final crunch and the deadline is close! I wish I had a hidden command at a time like this! Like making my drawing speed three times faster!"

I am a manga artist.

Pen name: Ainonaki Yuu.

My currently serialized work is Ms. Nike of the Samothra Family. It's a slapstick mystery-action manga where a headless non-human heroine chases the serial killer who cut off and stole her head.

The publication is a web magazine, as is modern.

At first, it was a weak magazine no one paid attention to, but recently, hit works have been born one after another, and the magazine itself is starting to garner attention.

"Please don't cheat; just face your desk and do your best. After all, you've been gaining more readers for your work lately, Sensei."

"If only I could freely control my brain—"

"Eh, you're still planning to continue that topic? But that's impossible. Are you suggesting performing major surgery to pop open the brain?"

"That's too much hassle! No time for that! But look, they say weak electrical signals run through the brain when people think, right?"

"They say that. Neurons or something? Was that it?"

"Right, right. So, couldn't we create a command using combinations of those electrical signal patterns to press a hidden switch in the brain?"

"Hu? Huuh?"

"By visualizing specific predetermined words or landscapes in a certain order and interval, you send a pattern of electrical signals to the brain. For example: Spaghetti, Pond Turtle, Chemical Wash, Crown Prince, Datura trampled by a horse, Fire Burning Festival, Chewing Gum, Edgar Allan Poe, Heart-shaped Shooting Star."

"There is absolutely no connection there."

"There isn't. That's why no one on Earth would ever think of these things in this order."

"I see. The chances of someone accidentally hitting that switch are one in several hundred million. That's why it's a hidden command!"

"Oh, you're getting into it! Exactly! You can call this string of words a spell, or a brain decompression code. If reading it could draw out the brain's latent potential, that would be the best!"

"It would! Like running faster!"

"Or your deductive skills and IQ skyrocketing!"

"Or even gaining an immortal body!"

"Ah…… that sounds good too."

The exchange of words cut off there.

The sound of a mail delivery bike running on the small road outside reached my ears.

This is a detached house I rent in the suburbs as a residence and workspace, and I am the only resident. It sits quietly in a secluded spot, which is nice, but I still occasionally sense the presence of delivery people like that.

"Well, that's only if God secretly hid such commands in the human brain, though."

"Why did you suddenly pull the ladder out from under me? But somehow, that's interesting! Wouldn't it actually work as a manga plot?"

"It wouldn't. I'm certain this kind of conceptual, hard-to-understand story wouldn't resonate with my readership."

"Is that so? You're a realist in odd places, Sensei."

"My manga isn't art, after all. And with that—yes, finished."

"Wa! You finished the manuscript!? While we were talking!?"

When I handed the freshly drawn manuscript to Hasuzuna-chan, she practically leaped at it and started reading.

She only became my editor this month, but she has plenty of motivation, which is good.

"I knew it from the storyboard stage, but it really is interesting! It's interesting!"

Seeing her rejoice over the quality of the manuscript while shaking her bob cut that curled inward, she looked like a high school student no matter how you sliced it.

"Phew……"

While she checked the manuscript, I stretched greatly in my chair and shifted my gaze to the mail I had left piled up beside the desk.

There was a mountain of pretty, cherry-blossom-colored envelopes.

"Okay Sensei, I have definitely received this month's manuscript!"

Hasuzuna-chan stood up energetically.

"Ah, yeah."

"Oh my? What's wrong? You've just survived the crunch, but you don't look energetic. Are you tired? That's why I keep telling you to hire an assistant."

"It's not that. It's just, there's something weighing on my mind lately."

"Eh! That is very not good! I shall listen! As your editor!"

"You—?"

"W-Well, sure, I might not be as reliable as my predecessor yet! But in my own way, you know!"

Hasuzuna-chan was trying her hardest to arch her adorable eyebrows.

"Yeah, yeah. Got it. Thanks. What I'm curious about is this."

I picked up one of the envelopes from the desk and held it up.

"An envelope…… a letter from someone? Ah! Could it be a fan letter!"

"Not exactly, but close."

I took the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it.

"You see, this is a letter from my very first fan."

"I knew it! That's nice. Your first fan still sends you letters like this."

"Yeah. But this girl has completely fallen to the dark side now."

"Eh?"

"I'll skip the fine details, but simply put, the letter says she's going to kill me."

"Eeeh!?"

The sender seems to be madly in love with the handsome detective who appears in Ms. Nike of the Samothra Family, but apparently, various things happened and her love for that character went berserk.

"Kill you…… isn't that a threat!"

"I suppose it is."

"Why are you so laid back about it!"

Hasuzuna-chan was genuinely angry out of concern for me. She must have been raised by good parents.

"Wai…… could it be that the mountain of letters on your desk…… all of them?"

"That's right. Every single one is from the same girl."

"Sent directly to your place!? Actually, I just realized, but normally fan letters should go to the editorial department, right!?"

"Normally, yes. But she must have figured out this address somehow. Quite the tenacity. I finally got one of these enthusiastic fans too, huh—"

"That's not a fan anymore, that's a full-blown stalker!"

"By the way, besides these, about two or three hundred other letters have arrived. I'm keeping them in the reference room over there, want to see?"

"It's dangerous! Let's consult the editorial department immediately. And the police too—"

"No, that's not necessary."

My editor's honesty is likable, but right now I'd like her to restrain that straight-laced nature a bit.

"Eh! Why!?"

"This case is too good to throw to the police. I'm thinking of daring to get personally involved, deeper."

"……Huh?"

Hearing my declaration, Hasuzuna-chan let out a rather foolish voice.

"What is that……? Too good? I don't quite understand the meaning……"

"Like I said—it's a waste. I'm intrigued by the person who wrote this letter. I want to investigate them personally."

"No way! The opponent is a malicious stalker……!"

"If it were just a simple threat, I wouldn't be this fixated. Actually, the content of the letters, to put it bluntly, is pretty standard for this kind of overly obsessive fan claim."

"Then why?"

"It's just, there's a certain kanji that appears in the letter that bothers me."

"Kanji? What kind?"

She doesn't seem to realize it, but when Hasuzuna-chan lets her guard down, she sometimes leaks student-like phrasing.

"Ghost."

"Ghooost? Is there something bothering you about the characters for 'Ghost'?"

"Not telling."

"Ehh—! Secrets at a time like this! Even though I'm your editor! Your person in charge! Keeping secrets from me!"

"Hasuzuna-chan, that's a bit heavy."

"Why are you saying thaaat!?"

Hasuzuna-chan stomped her feet in frustration. It's the first time I've seen someone actually do that action in reality.

"Sure, it hasn't been long since I became your editor! I don't have a track record like Izuhara-senpai! But I intend to have more passion than anyone! I'm prepared to work myself to death anytime to support you, Sensei……!"

"Young people shouldn't talk about dying so easily."

People often try to offer their lives as compensation for something. As if they think life itself has special value or power, and that if they throw it in, they can get energy for things like coal or something.

Even though life doesn't have that kind of value.

"I'm happy about your feelings, but this letter was delivered to my house. In other words, it's personal. If I say don't get involved, then that's the end of the discussion."

When I flatly rejected her, Hasuzuna-chan groaned, "Ugh."

Seeing that state, I started to feel a little sorry for her, so I decided to casually change the subject.

"Speaking of Izuhara-kun, still no contact from him?"

But the moment I brought up that name, Hasuzuna-chan's face clouded over.

Oops. Seems I chose the wrong topic.

Izuhara-kun was the man who was my previous editor.

Izuhara Omito.

Twenty-six years old.

Hobbies: Mountain climbing and skiing.

He was assigned to the manga editorial department despite having no interest in it, and was apparently quite bewildered at first, but later found it rewarding and was a promising editor racking up achievements—was.

"Still nothing…… I wonder what happened to Izuhara-senpai…… He was so enthusiastic about his work as your editor, yet suddenly he stopped coming to the editorial department……"

"Has it been a month already?"

"……Yes. We've filed a missing person report with the police, but they say there are no leads."

"I see."

I leaned back in my work chair and looked up at the ceiling.

I see, I see.

"I'm very worried……"

A rare, somewhat long silence flowed between us.

At the end of it, Hasuzuna-chan muttered a small "But."

"What?"

"No, well………… ehe. But, since I was able to become your editor as Senpai's successor, for me it's complicated…… or rather……"

"Hasuzuna-chan."

"Ever since I first got to speak with you at the publisher's party last year, I've always thought that someday I wanted to be your editor…… so."

"You say some flattering things."

"Ah! No! That was imprudent! Pretend you didn't hear that! Please—!"

"It's not like I'm going to go around broadcasting it to anyone. You know I don't have friends, right?"

"I know that, but…… ah…… sorry."

"You honest little thing. Even though I say it myself, I do have some friends, you know. Just a few."

"Is that so?"

She's genuinely surprised. Do I look that lonely?

"I do! One came by alone just the other day! By chance at a hotel I was visiting for research!"

"……That wasn't a girl, was it?"

"It was a boy! What's with those eyes! It's not a shady friend!"

"Hmm."

"Believe me! Besides, even if it were a girl, so what? You shouldn't have the right to restrict my social circle or love life!"

"Well, that is true, but. You are in a crucial period as a manga artist right now, Sensei. I will advise you that this is not the time to be distracted by this and that."

"I know."

The first volume of Ms. Nike of the Samothra Family, published with a sink-or-swim spirit, betrayed the editorial department's expectations and went into reprints, and since then, the adults around me have suddenly become motivated.

One of the 'hit works born one after another' I mentioned earlier happens to be my manga.

Thanks to that, my schedule, which used to be so empty for a manga artist, has recently started filling up one after another.

"Thinking back, completely changing your style from your debut days was a huge success! As a reader, I was confused at first too, but it's stimulating and very interesting!"

I'm happy that my work is read by many people, but being needlessly busy is also a problem.

"As long as it doesn't affect my main job."

"Did you say something?"

"Nm-mm. Just saying I'm running out of stock for ideas, so I wonder what to do."

I casually glossed over it. But it is true that I want ideas.

"Ah, I'd like to provide this and that to be of help regarding that, but unfortunately……"

"I'm not expecting anything."

"That's harsh!"

"So, back to the topic, I'm saying I'm currently fascinated by this."

I put the letter back in the cherry-blossom envelope and returned it to the desk.

"Thinking I might pick up some interesting material…… you know? Enthusiastic about work, right?"

"I understand your feelings, and when you put it that way, as an editor I can't really stop you, but…… please don't do anything reckless for the sake of material. Even without chasing such stimulating topics, you can draw interesting manga from mundane topics, Sensei……"

"Mundane? That alone won't do. If I'm to call myself a manga artist, I have to draw the unknown as known, and the known as unknown."

"What does that mean?"

Hasuzuna-chan's eyebrows gathered waaaay in the center. It's the expression of 'this manga artist is saying something again.'

"It means exactly what it says. Draw the things not yet drawn to inform people, and draw obvious things everyone already knows as if they are completely new. Just one or the other isn't enough. I believe that's what a creator is."

"I…… I see. ……I see?"

Does she really understand?

"In short, you mean doing normal things isn't interesting?"

"That's about right, but replacing it with such simple words makes my quote sound mediocre, so stop."

"I think this way is easier for people to understand…… well, I have no intention of denying your dedication and pride in creation, Sensei."

"You really understand me well. Can't believe you're a rookie."

"Why are you suddenly praising me…… Ah!"

There, Hasuzuna-chan looked at her wristwatch and cried out.

"Oh no! It's already this time! I have to hurry back to the editorial department with the manuscript! Sensei, thank you for the manuscript!"

"Yes, yes. Good work."

"But next time, I'd be happy if you could finish a little earlier! Good work!"

Boldly nailing me down as an editor, she flew out of the house.

"It was lively again today."

Once Hasuzuna-chan left, the house instantly became quiet.

I stared at the clock hands for a while. Waiting for the stirred-up air of the room to return to its usual state.

Once satisfied with staring at the clock, I stood up from the chair and opened the door to the adjacent reference room with respectful steps.

As the name 'reference room' implies, bookshelves line the inside, and all sorts of books from all times and places are neatly stored there. Being methodical is a trait I've had for a long time.

The cardboard box placed at my feet is overflowing with cherry-blossom-colored letters.

Letters from that fallen-to-darkness fan.

I have read every single one of them.

Because you have to cherish fans.

At the back of the reference room is another door, which connects to a small Western-style room about six tatami mats in size.

I slowly opened that door.

"It's safe now."

I called out into the depths of the dark room with concern, but there was no reply from the occupant.

Well, naturally.

I locked eyes with the man hanging from the ceiling of the room.

The one who hung him was me, and the one hanging is Izuhara Omito.

He is still alive.

But since he has a gag firmly bitten in his mouth, he couldn't possibly reply.

"Hasuzuna-chan went home. You can relax."

When I told him with heartfelt consideration that Hasuzuna-chan had left, the man blinked two, three times repeatedly.

"Yeah. It must have been terrifying."

Izuhara Omito.

He has been missing for about a month—or so it is thought.

His boss at the editorial department, his colleagues, and his family probably think so too.

But that isn't his will.

It's not that he got tired of work or wanted to go on a journey of self-discovery without telling anyone.

This happened the night before he disappeared.

Izuhara Omito was walking home from work when a car rear-ended him, causing severe injuries.

It was late at night on a path with almost no pedestrian traffic, so he wasn't discovered by anyone and was dying. In fact, if left alone, he would have died right there.

The car that hit him showed no sign of stopping and drove away into the darkness of the night.

There were no skid marks on the road.

Meaning the driver hit him intentionally.

Why can I tell the story in such detail?

Well, because I witnessed the whole thing from start to finish.

By chance…… no, wait, was it by chance?

Anyway, what I, having happened upon the scene, did was carry the immobile Izuhara-kun into my own car and bring him into this house.

Without notifying a doctor or the police.

Then I desperately treated him, fed him—and hung him upside down in this place.

Hands, feet, and neck firmly secured so he couldn't move an inch.

Both his legs had suffered magnificent comminuted fractures. If I had splinted and treated them immediately, they probably would have healed, but hanging him upside down right after the accident like this means the bones will probably never knit back together properly again.

Why did I do such a thing? Well, if a frail creature is dying by the roadside, you'd wrap it in a handkerchief or something and bring it home for the time being, wouldn't you?

Didn't you do things like that in elementary school?

Like dissecting it, or making a grave for it.

I just did that at that time too.

"I just successfully finished drawing the manuscript, you see, so I'm in a good mood."

Humming a tune, I approached Izuhara-kun.

"The brushwork was good today too."

Though replaced, he was the man who was originally my editor. I'll share the work progress just in case.

"Your successor is doing a good job. Though she has some stiflingly passionate points."

I peered into his upside-down eyes from up close.

"Truly, you must have felt like you were dead. To have the culprit who tried to run you over right here in the same house."

It's not something to be pompous about, so I'll just say it quickly, but the one who ran over Izuhara Omito was Hasuzuna-chan.

There is no mistake about this. I clearly saw her face gripping the steering wheel in the driver's seat.

When I told Izuhara-kun that fact after he regained consciousness, I recall he was terrified from the bottom of his heart.

Why did such an innocent-looking girl try to run over and kill her colleague? At first, I didn't understand.

But when Hasuzuna-chan was chosen as my editor to succeed Izuhara-kun and we started interacting, I realized immediately.

Hasuzuna-chan tried to eliminate Izuhara-kun because she wanted to become my editor.

Of course, I think she had been making preparations within the department before putting it into action. Ensuring that if Izuhara-kun were to leave the company, she would definitely be chosen as his successor.

That's how incredible her enthusiasm was.

It was tinged with madness.

She seems to be hiding it with her natural brightness and charm so no one notices, but my eyes cannot be deceived.

Hasuzuna-chan is a wonderful girl who can trample on the lives of others for the sake of love and admiration.

The public would perceive that, and her holding such traits, as a distorted existence, an evil person.

That's fine. But that is the only part that is distorted.

Truly, other than that, Hasuzuna-chan is a really good girl.

She's attentive, possesses the kindness to sense people's feelings, and is a hard worker.

Including that part, I actually quite like Hasuzuna-chan.

So I won't lay a hand on her, and I think I'll try associating with her as manga artist and editor for a while longer.

"Oh right. Hasuzuna-chan was really worried about you, Izuhara-kun. Today too."

Since I took him away, it's only natural, but Izuhara-kun's body wasn't discovered the next day or after, and there were no major news reports.

So—maybe she failed to kill him.

Maybe someday he'll storm into the editorial department with the police in tow—.

Hasuzuna-chan is worried about that.

By the way, I'm keeping it a secret from her that I protected Izuhara-kun and am confining him in my house. But the fact that Hasuzuna-chan is the culprit who tried to kill him has already been conveyed to Izuhara-kun.

That's why I'm guessing he must have been terrified.

"Even so, your vitality is amazing, Izuhara-kun. Humans live quite a while even in this state, huh."

I stepped away from him and touched the light switch.

Pa, the room became bright.

Walls, floor, ceiling—.

Massive amounts of photos are plastered everywhere in that room.

I plastered them all.

They are photos of the people I have killed so far.

Regardless of nationality, age, or gender, memories with all sorts of people are here.

I absolutely wanted Izuhara-kun to see them, so I plastered them up enthusiastically on the first day. My heart at that time was bouncing like when I put up Christmas decorations as a child.

For this past month, Izuhara-kun has been staring at these photos without understanding why.

Now, the time is ripe.

"Ureshihara Mimi. That is my name. Remember it well."

I decided to introduce myself to Izuhara-kun properly.

"Though, that's not my real name either, but I generally go by Ureshihara Mimi."

Izuhara-kun looked like he couldn't grasp the situation.

"As you know, I am a manga artist. No need to tell you, my former editor. But my main job is something else. Yes, main job. That is killing people—you see. That is my livelihood, my calling. And this is the trajectory of that."

When I gestured to the photos plastered all over the room, he finally seemed to sense something.

His eyes were asking, "Who are you?"

"I am not Ainonaki Yuu. The real Ainonaki is no longer in this world. The guy who barely scraped by in the newcomer awards back then and became a bit-part manga artist—I killed him. And then I took over his face and name."

At the time, I had just broken out of prison and was hiding in Tokyo. That's when I met Ainonaki.

He would fit me.

I thought so intuitively.

So I asked a shady doctor we've had a symbiotic relationship with for ages to perform plastic surgery to make me look exactly like Ainonaki.

Of course, I took over the title of manga artist too.

Thanks to that, the style changed a little—no, quite a lot. I did make an effort to imitate his style, though.

Hasuzuna-chan says she met me at a party last year, but that wasn't me. That was the real Ainonaki Yuu, while he was alive.

"You have a look on your face asking why I'd bother swapping with a manga artist and living a conspicuous life. It's simple. My pride won't allow me to live in hiding, trembling in fear of the police and society. I will sing the praises of life with full force in the life I swapped into. I've decided that."

I am that kind of human.

A human.

"Sorry for telling you this all of a sudden. But I wanted you to know everything about me. I wanted you to go to the other world knowing it."

Izuhara-kun's eyes widened.

"That's right. I'm going to kill you now. I want you to go over there a step ahead, and then…… ah, God or Enma or whoever is fine, but I want you to tattle everything I've done to that kind of existence."

I make the same request to every opponent I've killed, without a single exception.

I do it without fail.

I placed a large tub I had prepared in the corner of the room directly under his head.

Izuhara-kun is shedding upside-down tears.

"You want to live, I assume. But I'm sorry. I've already decided to do this. Besides, you were pilfering watches and expensive fountain pens and valuable things from my house on the sly, weren't you? Hmm? Thought I didn't notice? I knew right away. Things went missing every time we had a meeting. So, I felt bad about it, but I investigated your background. Everything from your upbringing onwards. Seems you've been a kid with slightly sticky fingers since you were young."

He didn't have a criminal record, so it was at a cute level where you couldn't even call him a petty thief, though.

The days spent investigating Izuhara-kun were quite interesting. A single human has countless dramas they can't hold alone.

And thanks to sticking close for the investigation, I was able to witness the moment Izuhara-kun was hit by Hasuzuna-chan, so it was all the more meaningful.

"You've lived admirably until today, shouldering that nature you couldn't control in your own way. I understand that hardship very well."

While speaking to him, I had already thrust a knife deep into Izuhara-kun's throat.

Blood flowing like a waterfall filled the tub in the blink of an eye.

Izuhara-kun convulsed his body for quite a long time.

"Actually, I intended to continue our communal life a little longer, but some business came up where I have to go far away. So, I decided to kill you a little early."

And so, I killed my dear Izuhara-kun with all my heart.

"Thank you for everything, Izuhara-kun. Well then, best regards on the other side."