The Death of Ordinary Citizen A
“This is ridiculous.”
Dark fantasy.
As the name suggests, it’s a genre that sprinkles a dash of gloom and absurdity onto standard fantasy. The value of life is incredibly low, and sometimes, cosmic horror-like monsters—much like those of Cthulhu—exist within it.
As an aspiring writer once upon a time, I had dabbled in the dark fantasy genre myself.
The name of the novel was Yugrasia Saga.
I know now. If you title a book like that, no one will ever come to read it.
But back then, I was obsessed only with unfolding the stories inside me. How many people read it didn’t matter in the slightest.
Perhaps that’s why not only the title but the content of the novel was a total mess.
You know the type of person, right? Someone trapped in fixed ideas, thinking, “It has to be like this,” no matter what they do. I was exactly that kind of person.
Thinking, “Dark fantasy should be like this,” I covered my monitor with endless, gloomy, and desperate content. The ending was one where everyone—protagonist and heroine alike—died without exception.
Naturally, its popularity was at rock bottom.
But I had fun.
Especially when I was conceptualizing the final boss, who was responsible for the “gloomy” part of “gloomy dark fantasy,” I was so immersed that I even forgot to eat.
Race: Rabbit beastkin. Flowing white hair and blue eyes. A terrifying figure and slightly revealing clothing. A metallic halo that appears when she uses her powers...
Because I put too little effort into her backstory—treating it as “she was born with a bad personality”—it was thin, but regardless, that character remained so vivid in my memory that she was my “life character,” crafted with more care than any protagonist I’d ever written.
“This really isn’t it...!”
Still, I didn’t want to get this close to her.
Whirrr—
As I shifted my gaze, a metal spike the size of a person flew freely through the air as if gravity didn’t exist. It had a gothic shape that was pleasing to look at, but it felt like it would be incredibly painful if I were stabbed by it.
Should I call it a spike? Or a small spear? Anyway, as I looked in the mirror while keeping it summoned, a dull halo floated behind my head.
When I canceled the summoning, the halo slowly faded away over several seconds.
It was the signature ability of the final boss I had created: Aurizel. Summoning a multitude of these to attack enemies or defend against their attacks. It felt similar to the Yigieogeom (Sword Controlling Technique) from martial arts novels.
Therefore, the fact that I could use this ability meant something very clear.
The dark fantasy novel I wrote when I was young.
Yugrasia Saga.
I had become the final boss of that novel.
“Ha....”
It might be something to celebrate that I’ve finally escaped being a career C-rank hunter, but honestly, I don’t feel very good about it.
There’s the fact that my partner, whom I thought I’d use someday, is gone.
My body changed suddenly, so I have to find a new job.
There must be an enormous amount of things to take care of.
And in the first place, I was someone who was reasonably satisfied with my life.
I’m not very greedy, so being given a body like this is just a nuisance. If I become a high-rank hunter for no reason, won’t I be dragged around here and there? I want to live my life watching my phone until dawn after getting off work.
“Sigh.”
Anyway, what’s done is done. Rather than complaining, I decided to start with what I could do right away.
“Is this enough?”
I checked my fashion status in the mirror. Jeans and a gray hoodie.
The hoodie didn’t completely hide the long rabbit ears, but there are many awakened ones with mutations far more unique than mine, so it shouldn’t look too strange.
The size fit better than I thought.
In that state, I put on my sneakers and stepped outside.
‘....’
A path so familiar I could walk it with my eyes closed. But it felt a bit more unfamiliar than yesterday.
Even though I knew it couldn’t be, I wondered if people were looking at me. Would they recognize the old me and think it was strange?
My heart pounded.
Of course, no one spoke to me while I walked to the District Office.
I opened the door and walked in, feeling awkward.
“Hello.”
“Oh, hello.”
The District Office clerk, who had been drinking mix coffee from a paper cup, jumped up in surprise. He bowed his head and returned to his seat.
“What brings you here?”
His voice is husky, likely from smoking.
“I’m here to report a mutation.”
“Ah. An awakened one. Could you show me your face for a second?”
“Sure.”
Since the appearance of Towers and Gates, many things in Earth’s culture have changed. The most distinct change among them would be people’s attitudes toward “things that are not human.” I pulled down the hood I was wearing.
“It’s confirmed. Now, please fill out the checked sections here and then you can proceed to the camera for a photo.”
Awakened ones with mutations must report their mutation to a government agency immediately upon awakening. The procedure is quite simple.
After showing your appearance to the clerk, filling in information including your date of birth, and taking a photo,
a new ID card is completed in less than a day.
It wasn’t this simple originally.
They say that in the past, you could only change your status after finishing various precise examinations, starting with an MRI.
However, various illegal activities like organ trafficking and human experimentation accompanied that process, and since there were many cases of blackmail using one’s past identity, it seems there was fierce opposition from the awakened side.
They argued, “It’s sad enough to have lost our original appearance, so why must our human rights be stripped away as well?”
In the past, when the backlash against non-human things was severe, such arguments didn’t even get a foot in the door, but since some mutated awakened ones have risen to high social positions, and the current generation has been exposed to mutated awakened ones since childhood,
the mutation reporting procedure has become increasingly simplified to what it is today.
It’s convenient for me, though.
Born in such an era, yay.
“It’s all done. The name is Aurizel. Age is unknown, and origin is Earth. Please check carefully to ensure there is no incorrect information.”
I focused on reading the letters written on the small rectangular card. It felt strange to think that this was my identity from now on.
For reference, the reason I chose the character’s name instead of my original name was because the information on the ID and the status window had to match.
The status window said Aurizel, after all.
“I think it’s good.”
“Is that so? Then there are no problems now, and other processing matters can be handled over the phone, so....”
“Yes. Thank you. Have a good day.”
“Yeah. You too.”
I came outside, receiving a greeting from the Orc clerk with sharp, protruding fangs. Inside my wallet was a new ID card with ink that hadn’t even dried yet.
It’s not quite a “reborn” feeling, but the sunlight touching my skin feels awkward today.
While I was at it, I sent a text to my workplace declaring my resignation and took a seat on a park bench.
It’s a resignation I’d only ever dreamed of, but I didn’t know I’d do it this way. Ghosting after giving notice is a very rude thing to do, but since they were even ruder, it’s fine. I should be thankful I even told them.
Anyway, it’s a fresh start now.
But I’m not going to do anything right away.
Since I’ve built up various knowledge while working as a C-rank hunter, it wouldn’t be difficult to get a job again, but for some reason, I felt that moving in a hurry wasn’t right. Since everything has literally changed, I thought I should think about it more carefully.
“Hmm....”
Another week has passed like that. I’m still doing nothing.
There were many things popping into my head.
I don’t know what my rank is now, but at the very least, I was incomparably stronger than the old me.
If I did hunter work like I used to, the earnings would be much better. I could officially join a guild, earn a lot in a short time, and then retire early.
Becoming a climber who focuses on ascending the Tower would also be fine.
Since my appearance is exceptional, I could even go into broadcasting and make a living.
That was the problem. It was a problem because there were too many choices. The fact that everything looked doable made my head complicated. I didn’t know I would waste time with this kind of worry.
‘This won’t do.’
But now, there really was no time left.
It wasn’t because my conscience was pricked by lounging around all day using “worrying” as an excuse. A limit was literally approaching.
The fact that [Aurizel]’s appearance and abilities were all passed on exactly as they were...
meant that the settings of her character that I wrote were applied to me as they were.
Yugrasia Saga met a tragic end with a bad ending.
Because Aurizel killed all the main characters, including the protagonist.
Why did she kill them? There had to be a reason in the novel. And I roughly blamed that reason on her personality.
Because Aurizel is, anyway, a fucking bad bitch.
Because she is the world’s worst tyrant who doesn’t even need a reason to kill people.
That was the character Aurizel I created, and now that character has become me. Everything of hers is now mine.
.......
As I lay still and stared at the ceiling, I suddenly thought of this.
‘Right now.’
I want to kill someone.
. . .