The Terrible Snail (3)
Poosh.
My fist punched through soft flesh and killed one of the snails. Thankfully, there was no particular destruction condition to fulfill — they could simply be killed.
Often... no, quite a lot of anomalies have destruction conditions. That's why there are so many that simply won't die unless you meet their specific requirement.
These snails, though, could be killed just like that. The catch was that these weren't the main body.
"Otherwise, the fact that their numbers keep growing wouldn't make any sense."
At first, when I was killing snails and saving people, I assumed the population would shrink. But when I took a good look around, nothing had changed since the start.
No — if anything, the numbers had only gone up, never down.
Hnngh, it's like pouring water into a bottomless jar.
So my ears and tail drooped.
"Looks like I'll have to find the source of all this after all."
The only thing I could do right now was track down where these snails were coming from.
So I strained my ears as hard as I could, gathering every sound around me — and before long, I was able to pinpoint where the snails were noisiest.
But there was something a little odd about that place.
"Underground...?"
The loudest snail noises were coming from below the ground. Why?
Of course I knew snails liked moisture. I knew they hid in the soil, too.
But could snails this big actually burrow underground? At this size and this number, the ground should have caved in long ago.
So I crossed my arms and thought it over. In the process, snail fluid got smeared on my clothes, but most of my outfit was already covered in so many different liquids that it barely bothered me.
After a moment of thinking, I remembered what lay underground — and my ears and tail shot straight up!
"Aha! The sewer system!"
People produce waste at all times, because they eat in order to live.
So how do they deal with it? In medieval Europe, they just threw it out the door — which, incidentally, is why high heels were invented there.
Then how is it handled in modern times? By the sewer system I just mentioned, obviously.
The pipes carried away the waste flushed out of every toilet in every house — and since they were waterways, they'd be full of water.
"Hmm. So that's why it smelled so disgusting."
I had finally figured out the source of the snail stench. At first I'd assumed it came from blood mixing with snail slime.
But it turned out to be the smell of raw sewage all along. I nodded at that realization even as worry began to creep up on me.
"Wait... you want me to climb down into that filthy manhole? Seriously?"
Is this right?
Do I really have to go this far?
Couldn't I just sit tight until the army showed up? Or the, uh... Anomaly Investigation Unit? Anomaly Response Team? Was that what it was called? Whatever — couldn't I just wait for one of those groups to get moving?
My clothes are already drenched in snail juice and I desperately want a wash, and now you want me to crawl into a sewer on top of that?
"Ugh... of all the luck. Why me?"
My whole body shuddered as I pictured the filth of the sewer. Even my ears and tail were trembling, as if to say they refused. And look! My tail must have hated it so much it went POP — and I'm not even a cat!
But either way, one fact remained unchanged: down into the sewer I had to go. The snail noises still pointed underground.
So my ears and tail drooped again — though my tail had no choice but to spring right back up, because there was blood pooled on the ground.
Waaah! My tail!
Thankfully not much got on it, but it still wasn't a pleasant feeling. Not that anything about entering a sewer had been pleasant from the start.
"Sigh. Guess there's no way around it — down the sewer it is."
I really, really don't want to.
I just stared at the manhole cover.
And I thought, and thought, and thought. How can I avoid going down there?
But no matter how hard I racked my brain, no answer came. My ears and tail had long since gone on strike and were staging a protest, demanding I hurry up and decide already.
"Ugh, fine! Let's get in!"
In the end, I decided to go in. Still reluctant, though, so I took one deep breath first. Then I pried off the manhole cover.
"Ugh. Already—"
The revolting smell wafting up nearly broke my resolve on the spot, but I steadied myself somehow and dropped down beneath the manhole. And I landed safely.
"Phew. Thank goodness I didn't fall into the water."
Luckily, I hadn't plunged into the water.
If I had, I'd have thrown a tantrum of truly catastrophic proportions, powered by pure rage — snails scattered like the letter 'ㄷ', and all.
Anyway, having entered the sewer, I was about to head straight for the source... but first I grimaced and pinched my nose shut.
"Ugh... no matter how you slice it, this is way too much!"
Really! This is vicious. And my sense of smell is extra sensitive as it is!
My ears drooped right along with my mood. But a job's a job.
I started walking deeper in, doing my best to nose-numb myself to the stench — while desperately trying not to look at something revolting clinging to the wall.
After being kidnapped by the snails, I'd passed out. How long had it been since I woke up in this pitch-black sewer?
I was slowly getting used to the disgusting smell. Even the strange tentacles coiled around my body were starting to feel familiar.
But none of those things were what mattered right now.
"Uuurgh... what even IS this?"
I had come to find Spoiler Fox, and here I was, captured by snails. I wondered why they weren't eating me, but since I was alive, I figured I'd count myself lucky.
"Haa..."
All I could do was sigh. The snails were definitely a scoop. If only I weren't surrounded by them!
"Well, at least thanks to Spoiler Fox, I found an anomaly worth a scoop..."
But that only counts if you don't get caught! That's the whole point — sneak in, dig up the info, and write the article!
I got angry until I wore myself out, got angry again, then shivered whenever the snails came near. Time passed like that, and little by little, more women started appearing around me.
Each of them looked completely different, yet they all shared one common trait: every single one was a young woman!
Why were only young women gathered here?
My reporting career might not stretch back years, but I'd been at this long enough to have some experience. And in cases like this, the usual explanation was... no, come on. No way.
"Haha. Surely it's not that, right? Snails are hermaphrodites to begin with..."
No, wait. Hold on. That might not be it.
Snails are hermaphrodites as a general rule. If these anomaly snails shared that trait, then my theory couldn't be right.
So why only young women, gathered in this one place? I observed the people around me again — and at last, I understood.
"Don't tell me... we're food for the babies?!"
"Huh?"
Eep. I'd said that way too loudly.
I hurriedly brushed it off to the woman beside me who'd grown anxious at my words — told her it was nothing, nothing at all. Thankfully, she let it go without pressing further.
Or maybe she simply didn't want to believe what I'd said. There was no way to know for sure.
Anyway, back to square one: my reasoning was simple.
Humans are divided into men and women, and the two sexes show clear differences.
The biggest one is the difference in how they grow.
As men grow up, their muscles develop more than women's, even without exercise. Women, on the other hand, store more fat than muscle as they mature.
And what that tells you is simple: women are more nutritious than men!
So that's why only young women were down here.
Should I call that a blessing? Or a curse?
No — it was a curse. All we'd done was buy ourselves a brief reprieve before death.
"Haa..."
The sighs just kept coming. I'd lost count of how many it was by now.
How long would we be kept here? When would rescue come? Would rescue even come at all?
With everything hanging on unknowns, all I could do — all any of us could do — was hold our minds together so fear didn't swallow us whole.
I'd been soothing myself through the hours like that when, suddenly, one of the women spoke up to the group. She said we should escape.
"E-escape?"
"Yes. We can't just sit here waiting to die. Besides, the snails seem to have gone somewhere for now."
She was certainly right. If we didn't want to die down here, fleeing while the snails were away was far better than staying put.
The problem was the tentacles binding us right now. They hadn't budged an inch — how were we supposed to escape?
And we had no idea when the snails might come back.
Had she caught on to our worries? The woman who'd proposed the escape told us the method she'd come up with.
"I have a box cutter. I tried it, and it cuts through them."
"Really? But why do you have that?"
The woman explaining our escape plan was flustered by the blunt question, but she quickly collected herself and explained that she was a test-prep student, so she carried all sorts of things around.
A test-prep student — so a repeat taker, then?
Anyway, she used that box cutter to slice through the tentacle holding her down. The others watched in amazement and quickly begged her to cut theirs free too.
Matching our chorus of pleas, she cut through every last tentacle in no time.
"Okay, now let's move!"
"Yes."
With her at the center, roughly a dozen of us rallied together! That feeling — like we could do anything if we stuck together!
There really is comfort in numbers. Just as we moved to get out of the chamber, though, we heard the sound of a snail.
"Wh-what do we do?! I think a snail's coming!"
"Then we have no choice — we break straight through—"
The moment the snail's sound reached us, people started to panic. But a group can sometimes lend you courage.
Quickly steadying ourselves, we each hardened our resolve and braced for the snail that was about to appear.
And a moment later, the snail revealed itself! At that very instant, the woman holding the box cutter charged at it.
"Die!"
Two or three others charged in right behind her. The woman who drove the box cutter into the snail first!
The people following her swung whatever tools they'd dug out of who knows where at the snail's body.
"Krrrrrr!!"
Yes! The snail was suffering!
The rest of us, seeing their attacks actually work, found our own courage. Emboldened, everyone moved as one and rushed the snail.
But we were soon forced to a dead stop. Because at some point, the snail had eaten our leader's arm.
"Ugh—!"
The pain must have been unbearable, because she couldn't even scream — she just crumpled to the ground. The snail, seeing her fall, promptly ate her head.
"Aah..."
"N-no. No, I don't want to die!"
Everything collapsed in an instant.
Our grand dream of escape crumbled the moment one person died. The ones who drew terror from it did nothing but scramble to the walls to get away from the snail.
"W-wait, just a moment! I-it's not over yet—!"
"It IS over! We're all going to die!"
Oh. I see.
I'd been about to tell them not to give up when the heartbroken wailing reached me — and hearing it, I finally understood.
They had already given up. Because the one person they'd looked to as hope was dead.
Truth be told, I knew our odds were hopeless too. It was only my experience as a journalist who'd covered anomaly scoops that kept me from collapsing the way they had.
Without meaning to, I looked down at my own hands.
They were trembling violently. Since when?
I didn't know. But there was one thing I knew for certain.
The snail that had crept up in front of me was utterly enraged, and it wasn't going to leave a single one of us alive.
"Ah."
It's over.
So I closed my eyes. Praying, at least, that there'd be no pain.
I kept them shut for a while — but neither death nor even pain arrived. Puzzled, I slowly opened my eyes.
And there, before me, an adorable fox painted in blood landed lightly on its feet.
The fox's eyes went wide with surprise at the sight of me, ears flicking up.
"Oh, wow — you're alive. What are the odds."
It was Spoiler Fox. The anomaly I'd been searching for so desperately.
And the anomaly that had just saved my life.
I knew I should be terrified — so why did I feel gratitude toward this creature? Why did I feel thankful?
It was covered in blood. Shouldn't that be frightening?
The creature seemed oblivious to what I was feeling. As if this were just another day, it casually tossed a snail carcass aside and said:
"Now, off you go. I don't make a hobby of eating people."
Ah. Now I get it.
Whether someone is an anomaly has nothing to do with feeling grateful to them. No matter what anyone said — that creature had saved me.
"Thank you so much!"
As of today, I am Spoiler Fox's biggest fan.