15 Days
I walked toward the old man.
I'd expected him to run the moment I closed in. He didn't. He didn't even flinch as I approached — just watched me in silence, as if keeping me under surveillance.
"Hey, old-timer. What's your problem?"
I asked first. I wanted to know why he was staring me down.
"……"
Still nothing. The sickle in his hand stayed raised. I frowned and tried again.
"I asked why you're looking at me like that."
"……"
"Don't play dumb."
"……"
"You think holding a sickle is gonna make me back off?"
"……"
"Fine. Guess you're not talking. I'll drop the questions. So quit staring. You're pissing me off."
"……"
I lifted the flashlight and shone it straight into his face. The old man squeezed his eyes shut against the glare and raised the hand gripping the sickle.
Thwack!
I kicked his leg out from under him. He crumpled into the field. I kicked the sickle free of his grip and planted my foot on his head. He thrashed. I put more weight on him and his struggling slowed.
"…Get off me."
His voice came out thick and phlegmy.
"Situation's changed. Why were you watching me? Start with that."
"……I was keeping an eye on you."
"Why?"
"So an outsider wouldn't do anything stupid. And you did — you attacked me. It's not too late. Take your foot off."
"And if I don't?"
"The villagers won't stand for it."
I pretended to lift my foot from his head — then drove it into his gut instead, over and over. Thud. Thud-thud. Even holding back, the hits landed with a wet, solid sound.
"Uwaaaargh!"
The moment he started heaving, I stepped back. Getting covered in his filth was not on the agenda.
The old man staggered to his feet. Those corpse-like eyes were full of murder. He spun and broke into a run.
"Running, huh."
I decided to catch him, shut him up, and squeeze him for whatever he knew about this shady little village.
Then he stopped short, bent down, and snatched up the sickle lying in the field. He came charging straight back at me. He'd never planned to run at all.
"Die!!"
He went for my throat — no hesitation about aiming for a vital spot. An ordinary person might have frozen in fear and taken the hit. I wasn't ordinary. I tracked the swing at my leisure and slipped aside.
"Slow."
An old body against a young one. The gap was enormous. And I wasn't just any young body, either. Lift my shirt and the muscle was cut and dense — top-tier for a civilian. From a Hunter's perspective it was nothing special, but still.
Whoosh! Whoosh-whoosh!
After a few more misses, the old man staggered like he was about to collapse.
"Uwaaaaaah!!"
He screamed and lunged again. I dodged casually, then hooked his leg. The one I'd already kicked gave out instantly. He went down hard and, gasping, swung the sickle at my legs.
"Not a chance."
I backstepped clear and gave his head a light kick.
He stopped moving.
"Wait—!"
Startled, I ran over and checked his pulse.
He's dead.
I'd hit his head, sure — but I'd pulled the force as much as I could. A light tap. I figured that wouldn't kill him.
…So he was in worse shape than I thought. Miscalculation. Damn it. I never got any information about the village.
I was about to leave the body and head back to the lodging when I stopped.
If I just leave a corpse lying around, that's going to be a problem, isn't it?
Even a village this small had a police box. Once the body was found, the cops would get involved — and they might figure out I was the one who killed him.
If I get arrested, completing the quest gets messy. Even if I do get caught, it won't be right away. Right. I just need to stay free for at least the length of this world's name — 15 Days.
I swept the area with a quick look. With the flashlight off it was too dark to see much, and there was no sign of anyone nearby. I hauled the old man's body onto my shoulder, grabbed a shovel from near the field, and headed for the mountain.
Fuck. It's just one human body and it's already killing me.
Once I was in the woods I dug a shallow hole and dumped him in. Not deep. I was tired and it was a pain. As long as nobody found him for a while, that was enough.
I'm not staying in this world forever anyway.
I shoveled the dirt back over him.
I'll toss the shovel back where I found it on the way— hm?
I felt eyes on me.
I spun around. Nothing. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my wrist.
My senses are civilian-level. Hard to tell. Just my imagination?
I went back to finishing the job.
While Seong Yujin was busy filling in the dirt, a man hid behind a tree and watched him, holding his presence to nothing. Wrapped in black cloth, he stared at Yujin's back and felt a quiet jolt of alarm.
A face I've never seen — an outsider. I heard some college students came up from the city this afternoon… must be one of them.
Whoosh.
Yujin turned his head.
The man held even his breathing and erased every trace of himself. Yujin wiped his sweat and went back to work.
Sharp.
And calm.
Was this a spur-of-the-moment killing? Premeditated? Or… is he just like that?
Either way, this was no ordinary man.
I need to report to the shrine maiden and wait for orders.
Once Yujin finished and left, the man waited a little longer, then moved to the spot where the body had been buried.
…Not used to murder, then? Why is this so sloppy?
It was so poorly done that anyone would notice the moment daylight hit. The carelessness practically shouted. After a moment's thought, the man dug with his bare hands. Yujin had only packed the earth loosely, so it came easy. In under five minutes he had the body uncovered.
Old Jiro…
A hardworking, capable laborer — dead.
The shrine maiden will grieve.
I got back to the lodging.
The circle members were gathered and drinking. Empty beer cans rolled across the floor. The guys were hitting on the girls; the girls laughed awkwardly and played along.
"Seong-san! Over here!"
Wada Kyoshiro called me over. I sat beside him and picked up a beer can. Hagawa Ryoko sat demurely next to him, pure and clean in a white dress.
"What took you so long? Dinner's already over."
"Got lost on the way. And I'm not really hungry, so it's fine."
"Ah — Seong-san, this is Hagawa Ryoko. My childhood friend. She's a first-year like us."
"I'm Hagawa Ryoko. You're Seong Yujin-san, the Korean exchange student, right? Nice to meet you."
"We're the same year. No need for formal speech. Just talk normal."
"Got it. I'll drop the formality."
The three of us talked. Hagawa Ryoko turned out to have more backbone than I'd expected.
"Hagawa."
A yellow-haired thug ambled over. Tanaka Hiroshi flexed the tattoo on his forearm, showing it off.
"We're heading to the corner store. Wanna come?"
"Tanaka-senpai… I'm sorry, but I need to get ready for bed soon."
"It won't take long. If you need anything, I'll buy it for you."
"I'm fine. I brought everything I need."
Hagawa Ryoko was firm, but Tanaka Hiroshi clearly had no intention of backing off. The mood turned sour. He shoved a beer can at her without any pretense of subtlety.
"I saw you earlier — sipping like a little bird. I'll teach you how to drink. Beer only tastes right when you down it in one go."
"…Tanaka-senpai. I don't handle alcohol well."
"That's why I'm teaching you."
"Senpai. That's enough."
Wada Kyoshiro stood up and put himself between them. Tanaka Hiroshi's face twisted.
"Wada. Can't you see I'm talking to Hagawa?"
"Hagawa doesn't drink. Leave her alone."
"You little shit—"
Tanaka Hiroshi cocked a fist. It never landed. Mori Masahiro had already closed the distance and locked Tanaka's wrist in one massive hand.
"Tanaka. Don't make a scene. Drop it."
Tanaka Hiroshi's mouth worked. One hard look from Mori Masahiro and he folded.
"…Understood, senpai. You can let go of my wrist now… tch. Ruined the whole mood."
Muttering, Tanaka Hiroshi left the lodging with two other guys. Off to the corner store, apparently.
"Whew. Thank you, Mori-senpai."
"It's nothing. Listen up, everyone! That's it for drinking tonight! Don't forget — the festival tomorrow evening is mandatory!"
Mori Masahiro shut the party down.
I helped with the cleanup at a leisurely pace, glancing toward the women's lodging as I worked.
When Tanaka Hiroshi had made his move, I could have stepped in before Wada Kyoshiro. A small chance to score points with Hagawa Ryoko. I didn't take it. I had no intention of slowly winning over women in this world. I didn't have the time.
Among Japan's traditional customs, there's yobai.
Sneaking into a woman's room in the middle of the night and taking her.
One hell of a tradition.
Rattle-rattle.
The window shook.
I opened my eyes slowly, sat up on the futon, and checked the time. 2:17 a.m.
Good enough. Slip into the women's lodging and do yobai. My target was Hagawa Ryoko.
Rattle-rattle-rattle!
The window shook harder. Rain was coming down too — I could hear water hammering. My face hardened. This wasn't rain falling. This was rain beating the ground flat.
I walked to the window. Wada Kyoshiro was asleep under his blanket beneath it. Outside was bad. Trees whipped like they were about to snap, and the rain was torrential.
A typhoon. It hit this suddenly?
Something felt off.
If they'd known a typhoon was coming when they planned the trip, they would have canceled.
Typhoons don't just appear out of nowhere. Weather reports would have shown it.
I checked my phone.
Turns out a typhoon that had been heading for Korea that evening had suddenly veered and made landfall on Japan. Once it hit, it slowed way down. We'd be under its influence for at least three or four days.
A typhoon isn't going to stop me. Time for yobai.
Crash!
Something slammed into the window and shattered it. A broken tree branch.
"Wh-what?!"
Wada Kyoshiro shot upright and stared at the window. The second he understood the situation, his face went rigid.
"A shower… no, the wind's way too strong for that. It's a typhoon. Whew. These are tatami mats — we can't let them get soaked."
He looked like he'd done this before. He glanced around, grabbed a blanket, and pressed it over the broken window.
"Seong-san. Since the window's already broken, we should just tear it out and board it up properly. Have you seen any wooden planks around?"
"No. Haven't."
"I noticed a storage shed next to the kitchen earlier this evening. I didn't go inside, but there might be boards in there. Seong-san, can you hold the blanket? I'll go check."
"No. I'll go."
I had no interest in standing there like I was being punished, holding a blanket.