The Incinerator's Deadly 15kg Limit
You wouldn't tremble just seeing me, the ultimate beauty, right? "Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell is that... What the hell, carrying something like that..."
The baldy's in full panic mode, staring at my magic wand and muttering curses to himself as he starts shaking like a leaf. Has the fear of the magic wand been imprinted on him or something? You wouldn't tremble seeing me, the ultimate beauty, right? Right? You nearly pitch-black geezer. Ugh, I gotta wash you quick.
The mob girl glances down at me too, sweat pouring off her in streams. Why? Sweaty type? Nah? Is it hot here normally? Magical girls don't really get it. I feel just a bit warm, but normals might find it sweltering. Like that dried-up octopus-head baldy over there.
"...But with this many people around, why's it so damn quiet? All I hear is clanging."
"Th-they're not, n-not people. They're part of the weird phenomenon."
Both of them keep sneaking glances at me before whispering. Feeling left out here. Sad?
The baldy's hand gripping the carry-on suitcase turns even whiter. Grease drips from his shiny bald head as the fucker looks around and speaks up.
"What? Fuck, all these people are...? S-so, what do we do?"
See? Thanks to the laws, the pain fades pretty quick. Look at him, already talking normally. Though all the fucker should be allowed is "grrrk, grrraaah" sounds.
"B-but something's weird. N-normally, the incinerator requires at least four people to enter."
Count in the corpse and it's exactly four. I listen to their convo like I'm reviewing some immersive drama.
"F-fuck. Then we're all fucked? Fuck, what the hell do I..."
"N-no, no! It's just even numbers that matter... Eek!"
Why're you excluding me? Planning to ditch me or something?
I poke the mob girl's squishy side, and she lets out a terrified shriek. Kihihi.
"H-haah. Haah. Um, a-are you an Awakened Ability User by any chance?"
"No! Just, just a normal person."
"Oh, I see. Then... that's bad. Let me... explain the rules first. But..."
"Bad how? Fuck, why scare me like that?!"
The mob girl looks at me again. I try to give her a shy little smile, shrinking back a bit. She squeezes her eyes shut, then speaks smoothly without stuttering.
"What do you have there? Does that carry-on feel over 15kg?"
"......"
The corpse looks like a middle-aged woman around the baldy's age? It's bloated from decay, hard to tell. Roughly 50 or 60kg?
"...It's not over."
The baldy pulls the carry-on closer to his body. His lips droop, he bites his lower lip lightly, licks it with his tongue to wet it. I can feel his jaw and neck stiffening. The suitcase drags, leaving deep imprints in the fine ash on the floor.
Even a magical girl can tell that's a lie. Kihihi.
The mob girl catches it right away too. She looks innocent, pretty coloring, and sharp as hell. Smart cookie? Yeah, can't kidnap her as an interpreter.
The mob girl glances at my bag. I swing it around: whoosh whoosh. About 34kg? Something like that. I nod along.
"Ah... O-oh. Why... why the blockage phenomenon..."
The mob girl's face goes blank with despair. But she pulls herself together quick and continues.
"...Anyway, let me explain. Everything around that looks like people? Those are bags. Think of them as standard incinerator trash bags."
"These? Bags? No matter how you look, they're people!"
"Weird phenomenon! They're weird. Th-think of them as not people."
Hmm. Not zombie trash mobs, huh? Disappointing. Though seeing them burst earlier makes the bag thing believable. Is trying to understand a weirdo's weirdo ecology itself weird? No mana waves since no normals around, but zero color is intriguing. From my view, they're closer to objects. In this worldview, do AI robots count as weirdos too? Is that why development's banned? Eh, the PhD eggheads probably handled it.
"A-and... soon, the announcement broadcast will play."
"Broadcast?"
"R-right now, we can't untie knots. Wh-when the broadcast plays, the bags st-start moving. Untie then."
Mob girl's got a bit of explainer syndrome. Fine by me, just listening.
"Untie knots? What the hell does that mean?"
"L-look around at the bags. Somewhere on their body, there's a knotted tie. Before crossing the incinerator fence, find it and put your trash bag together with the weirdo's original bag inside."
She talks fast! Go mob girl! True to otaku traits, knowledge makes her speed up. I'm jealous; I can't talk that smooth.
Like she said, the male husk in front of her has a knot near the navel; the female husk to the right has skin tightly knotted at the fold under her right breast. But they're wearing outer clothes and look human—resisting would make it no easy task? Weird-ass rules.
Beep. Incinerator Operation No. 38822 commencing. Customers, please line up and enter in order. Beep.
The broadcast plays. Whoa, like amusement park entry time? Kihihi. Feels like a shitty game's intro, but monster-slaying's got a different flavor from this.
Once it ends, a ton of bags start marching in perfect sync.
"It st-started! Now f-follow the front, walk in line! Keep your trash, don't toss it!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
One human clutching trash like treasure, one fucker, and one magical girl trail the weirdos timidly.
"Y-you couldn't see them before, but employee weirdos will wander now. O-open bags avoiding their eyes!"
"Fuck, why say that crucial shit now?"
"I-it's fine. Not many employee w-weirdos. Line comes first, always."
Such a wash-worthy baldy. Imagine if he spoke pretty? Well, with that filthy color, normal speech is like that.
The mob girl barely walks a few steps before yanking the bag right in front's wrist, tripping it. Stuttering and scaredy-cat, but her moves are smooth and quick. Awakened Ability User, this mob girl.
The baldy's eyes swivel with a click syncing to the factory's roar. Kihihi.
"...B-but, hey. Why'd you ask about weight earlier?"
Baldy's voice is pathetic. He tried lowering it to hide tension, but it's laughably feeble.
The mob girl doesn't even glance at him, pinning the wriggling bag pro-style and searching. Then she flips its belly, unties the knot in seconds.
Ooh, cool. Professional. Huh, so it opens like that. Weirdos are fun?
Focused mob girl answers without a stutter.
"Incinerator requires burning your trash bag at the end. Limit's 15kg per person."
"What happens if you exceed?"
"It collects a fine from the trash owner's body—proportional to the excess weight."
"What?"
Whoa, harsh? True to weird phenomenon.
The baldy wrestles epically with his bag weirdo but flops down defeated. Boo, lame baldy, lame!
Mob girl's done already, knot tied, bag in hand. Combined with the weirdo's, still under 15kg.
"Fuck, fuck! Then it's just death! Lies! You're tricking me?! Fuck, you with that weird thing on your back!! You're the weirdo!!"
"Wh-what? C-calm down. I'm h-human."
Sigh, magical girl here. But no words for villains! The villain guesses his fate and flips out. Veins bulge on his beet-red boiled head. His already ugly mug twists monster-like with rolling eyes and drooling spit.
Yes! Push a bit more! Almost blackened! I'm thrilled. Kihihi.
"H-how much over? We c-can split it between people..."
"Fuck, this is a dream. Yeah! Can't be real! Fuck! Just let me out!"
Baldy spits foam, screams without answering. Glares murderously at mob girl, then bolts backward.
Where to? Thick sludge oozes from the tossed carry-on.
"N-no! Don't!"
She chases a few steps, but a 3-meter giant looms before the baldy who strayed from line. Pops in like poof—incinerator weirdo trait? Wanna poof too. Where do you learn that?
Black gas mask, black gloves, thick rubber apron—like incinerator worker gear. But proportions all wrong, like a badly scaled shitty game character.
Order violation, illegal trash dumping. Excess weight violation, non-standard bag violation, large human organics in trash mixed. Total fine: 42kg body tissue. Confirmed. Processed.
The giant's voice echoes dully, mechanically through the mask.