Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Red Toilet Paper or Blue?
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Abandoned bathroom, slightly crumbling with only sunlight piercing the interior.
A chilling air mingled with the toilet's repulsive stench, weighing down the atmosphere inside.
A cool breeze blew all the way to the last stall, causing the long, matted black hair to flutter in its wake.
And right below it, a man was waiting for something.
The moment the sunlight faded from the bathroom, the mood sank even deeper, filled with a dreary voice.
"Red toilet paper... or blue toilet paper..."
It was clearly a woman's voice, but the uneven pitch created an unsettling dissonance.
The man realized the source was right above him. As he slowly tilted his head up, a damp strand of hair brushed against his cheek.
When he fully looked up, all he could see in his eyes was a glowing red eyeball peeking through the thick locks of dark hair.
Soon, the voice came again.
"Red toilet paper... or blue toilet paper..."
He turned his head to look at the ghost's hands—one held red toilet paper, the other blue.
The ghost stretched its mouth into a horrifying grin.
"Red toilet paper? Or blue toilet paper?"
After a brief deep breath, the man replied calmly.
"Both, please!"
"?"
The rolls of toilet paper had already vanished from the ghost's hands.
The ghost shifted its gaze to the man and spotted its prized possessions in his hands.
"My toilet paper! Give it back!"
The ghost flew into a rage and lunged at him.
It was clear her arms held power beyond measure.
Just as the ghost's bruised grip was about to close around the man's neck, she realized her vision was turned toward herself.
Sensing part of her body at an impossible angle meeting her eyes, she soon realized her head had been severed from her body.
The black tentacle that faintly appeared and vanished at the end of the stall stall served as proof of what had happened to her.
But evidence was useless to a ghost unprotected by the rule of law, and for one already dead, losing her head was nothing at all.
Knowing this, after a brief sigh, she reattached her head—only to find the toilet paper thief long gone.
And in the forest far from the bathroom.
A door appeared in midair without warning.
The tale merchant, who had chosen both rolls for the sake of political neutrality, vanished through it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ It had already been four days since I'd closed up shop.
The Shop had greedily devoured the hands I'd stockpiled, then boasted it could easily last a week.
For the time being, I'd been periodically venturing out to gather goods to kill time, and somehow I'd ended up with quite a variety.
From the various items I'd supplied last time and the Condensed Dreams, to the two rolls of toilet paper I'd just acquired, plus the 'Time Eternal Camera' from killing that child-eating monster in between.
Before restarting business, I'd wanted to stock up a bit more on goods, so I'd kept wandering around—and this was the result.
Of course, none of them were sustainably obtainable, so it was only short-term, but there was nothing to be done about that.
My only concern was the deal with the factory; I'd probably have to cut back on the supply quantity.
I cleared the Tale Management Bureau from my mind and etched what I needed to do into my thoughts.
Finding the story behind my own tale.
Thinking about it, it was the most important and obvious thing to seek out, yet the fact that I hadn't even considered it until now filled me with a slight dread.
Was this a limitation of being a tale entity?
I turned my gaze to the drawer.
The Tale Management Bureau—an organization I'd craved without end at some point—didn't fade so easily from my mind.
The Bureau seemed pretty busy lately.
With one incident after another, even the Headquarters Chief's responsibility was being called into question, and more and more victims were starting to doubt the Bureau's capabilities.
Well, if it was the Bureau, they'd hold out somehow.
Merchant, we can hold out a bit longer, but it's about time to start business again.
Four days felt like sufficient rest.
"Yeah, got it."
With no massive buyer like the Bureau anymore, keeping the shop closed for too long wasn't ideal, as the Shop nagged at me.
Still, since it was civilians I was targeting, no matter how much stock I had, only the cheapest items would sell—just like when I first started.
For smooth business, I needed to acquire one special item.
And to get that, I'd have to head to another tale.
"One last tale. This one's gonna take a while."
You're talking about that totem you mentioned last time, right?
Where to?
"Solbit High School."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Nighttime is often considered highly sensual.
Streetlights and a few lingering electronic billboards illuminated the late-night city, creating a cinematic romantic vibe. Empty backstreets turned me into the movie's protagonist.
I used to watch those films and dream of all-night love affairs back in the day.
But swap the backdrop for an abandoned school, and the genre flips to horror.
If I was lucky, maybe horror with a touch of romance?
In clichés, one of the couple always dies, so maybe my luck was bad—but since I was alone anyway, it didn't matter.
"Ooh, scary."
I had no memories of sneaking into school late at night with friends, so my heart was pounding pointlessly.
I could only regret that it wasn't the thrilling kind of pounding.
I climbed the stairs to the third floor.
After using the bathroom and passing walls scrawled with malicious graffiti like 'Help me!' and middle fingers, I walked ten more steps until Class 2-11 appeared before me.
This was the tale's origin point.
I forced open the long-unopened, rattling door and sat in the center seat of the second row from the front.
"Phew..."
Childhood memories flooded back vividly.
Taking them as a model, I sat up straight and scholarly, like I was attending class, and munched on snacks from my pocket.
The crinkling of the snack wrapper filled the empty classroom.
As the sound grew louder and spilled out into the hallway...
"Snacks aren't allowed at school."
A voice echoed from outside the classroom—one that absolutely shouldn't be heard in an abandoned school.
A man's voice, laced with murder between notes of kindness.
Even though I knew it was coming, a shiver ran through my entire body.
Thud. Thud.
Footsteps steadily approaching the classroom.
The vivid cane marks that once scarred my thighs resurfaced, triggering my school-related PTSD.
I immediately stood and hid inside the janitor's closet.
Thud.
Thud.
The footsteps stopped right in front of the classroom.
Slide.
The sliding door opened, and through a tiny gap above in the closet, I glimpsed the man—his torso impaled by dozens of writing utensils.
The school's "teacher."
Suffocating silence.
Not a metaphor—I was literally holding my breath, so it was truly suffocating.
In other words, if that thing didn't leave soon, I'd suffocate to death.
The teacher jerked his head around at unnatural speed, searching for the source of the noise.
He soon prowled the classroom, checking under the teacher's desk, opening a few lockers, then set his sights on the janitor's closet and started heading my way.
It was about time for the bell...
The teacher's hand reached for the closet handle.
Through the narrow gap, I saw his two eyes stapled in place.
A device hinting that he judged everything by sound alone, without sight.
My held breath was reaching its limit, tearing at my lungs.
With my power level, killing the teacher would be easy.
But this was a spatial tale—if I killed the teacher, everything, including the item I'd come for, would vanish. So I couldn't take him out beforehand.
The closet began to rattle under the teacher's strength.
Please, ring!
The closet door cracked halfway open, and the teacher's face leaned in to check inside.
Ding-ding-ding—
An alarm clock rang from afar.
The one I'd planted in the bathroom earlier.
The teacher's grotesquely twisting face turned toward the bathroom, his torso slowly rotating to follow.
"There you are."
He left the closet as is and exited the classroom with light steps. I watched him for a long while until the footsteps faded almost inaudibly, then emerged from the closet.
I inhaled as much air as my lungs could hold.
Who knew oxygen could taste this sweet.
It felt like the flavor was replacing the candy sweetness from the snack I'd eaten moments ago.
After savoring the oxygen adequately, I stepped out of the classroom.
Now, the treasure hunt could begin.