The Railroad Station with a Blaring Siren (3)

BANG!

The moment the book was torn, I kicked back my chair and shot to my feet.

My plan was simple: run.

“Ugh……!”

But something like a steel rebar caught me across the waist.

Tracing the limb back to where it had come from, I saw it — the Thing Wearing an Outdated Military Uniform.

What blocked my path was its abnormally long arm.

“Ngh!”

When I tried to wrench free, its blade-like fingers coiled around my upper body.

I felt cold metal against the nape of my neck — and with a chill like a blade sliding across skin, the warning from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rulebook surfaced in my mind.

No — this is only my fourth time!

Wait. Is the book itself a forbidden item?

Why, of all things……!?

I strained desperately to slip free of the grip at my throat.

But it held me like a real steel bar — not so much as a millimeter of give.

Worse, its surface was jagged, and all I managed to do was scrape my own skin.

If I'd known this would happen, I should've just crawled into that Sorting Bin.

At least then I'd have had a fingernail's worth of a chance at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠survival……!

I squeezed my eyes shut in regret, bracing for the end.

But nothing happened.

Only my own whimpering echoed intermittently through the silence.

……What?

I opened my eyes into the strange stillness.

Its fingers were still wrapped around me.

But rather than intent on tearing me apart, it seemed closer to confining me — keeping me from running.

I stood there dazed, and only then noticed that its other hand had come to rest beside me.

It was holding the tattered book out in front of me.

And wedged between the mangled pages was a stiff piece of paper made of an entirely different material.

What is this?

Don't tell me — a boarding pass……?

Half in doubt, I looked up at the thing's body.

A single sheet of paper lay before it.

The page I had torn out and offered — one loose leaf from the book.

Keeping my eyes locked on it, I slowly extended my arm outward.

The fingers pinning my body were slender and light, and my arm slipped free without resistance.

The moment I took the book and the ticket, the grip around me loosened.

The thing withdrew its hands, folded its limbs back into that hunched, original posture, and went still.

Freed, I wavered on my feet for a moment, then grabbed my bag and turned away.

Crossing the lounge, I walked out neither fast nor slow.

At the exit, I glanced back once — the thing was quietly gazing down at the pages I'd torn from its book.

“Hah……”

Stepping into the corridor, a long breath spilled out of me.

I survived…….

I'd been so certain I was about to be torn apart.

Steadying my rapidly weakening legs, I looked at the ticket.

A perfectly ordinary paper ticket.

The writing on it still refused to be read, though.

I didn't bother trying — I just tucked it into my pocket.

The thought that I could finally get out of here lifted my spirits a little.

Then a shadow fell across the polished marble floor.

I whirled around on reflex.

CRACK!

At the same instant, something hard slammed down onto my shoulder.

“Ugh……!”

It felt like my shoulder blade had shattered.

The sensation was less pain than pure shock.

I staggered wildly and rolled out of the way on instinct.

By the time I'd tumbled blindly across the floor and lifted my head again, I couldn't help but be dumbfounded.

The thing that had attacked me out of nowhere wasn't some unidentified monster. It was a man.

He was holding a fire extinguisher.

And as if to demonstrate its proper use, he swung it at me again.

WHOOOSH—!

The heavy iron mass swept past my face by a hair's breadth.

“What the hell are you doing!”

I shouted, but the man paid me no mind and pressed his assault.

The extinguisher flew at me again and again, carving through the air with a vicious hiss.

If I hadn't happened to turn around, it would've taken my head off.

Why?

Why is this man attacking me?

No — where the hell did he even come from?

The extinguisher came flying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at my body, and I had no choice but to block it with my arm.

SLAM!

With a harsh crack, my feet skidded out from under me.

The moment I crashed to the ground, the man raised the extinguisher high.

Aimed precisely at my skull.

In that moment of pure, unadulterated malice, I suddenly understood.

He had attacked right after I succeeded at the barter.

He'd been waiting around here all along.

Waiting for someone to barter successfully and obtain a ticket.

I'd pulled it off, and now I was standing there defenseless — so only one task remained for him.

Steal my ticket and escape this place himself.

So this attempt to kill me was, for that man, an act of survival.

I clenched my teeth and rolled again.

The extinguisher grazed past my ear.

What do I do now?

Do I fight back?

Can't — that direct hit to my left shoulder has it acting up. There's almost no strength left in my left arm.

Then do I run?

And if there's someone else nearby?

What if that man shouts, That bastard's got a ticket!

While I agonized, the man charged again.

I rolled out of the way once more, and the extinguisher came down on empty floor.

CLANG!

Striking the marble, it bounced back up with a metallic shriek.

In that instant, a line of warning text from the rulebook flashed through my mind.

……Could it work?

Damn it — whether it works or not, I'm doing it.

I turned and ran.

The instant I sprinted down the corridor, the man chased after me, cursing.

Running at full tilt, I soon reached the restaurant and café zone.

The shops there had glass walls facing the corridor, their interiors laid completely bare.

I pressed my back against one of them.

The man, who'd been hot on my heels, swung the extinguisher again.

I glared at that red lump of scrap metal and dodged by a whisper.

Instead of me, it smashed head-on into the glass behind my back.

CRASH!

A shattering roar, and glass shards burst outward.

In that very instant, the man's half-deranged eyes flinched.

It looked like he was only now realizing what he'd done.

Through the glittering fragments of glass, something like a rope came sprouting up.

It was the same thing that had obliterated the woman's head in front of the ticket booth.

Whether he understood that rope's danger as well as I did, the man glared furiously at me.

“You little son of a—”

The moment he tried to hurl his curse at me, the rope cut him in half.

SSSHK—!

And so I finally learned what had killed that middle-aged woman.

The Railroad Police punishes those who violate public order.

Screaming threats at the ticket booth attendant.

And smashing a shop's glass with a fire extinguisher.

Both, by anyone's measure, were gross violations of public decency.

I turned my head away, refusing to watch the man die.

Then I held my breath.

Was I really innocent here?

What if it counted me as a petty delinquent who'd caused a disturbance too?

I could see the Railroad Police gliding closer, smooth as a water snake.

I squeezed my eyes shut among the shards of glass.

A brief silence passed.

When I opened my eyes again, the Railroad Police was already gone.

Only I remained alive, in a corridor matted with blood and glass.

At the sight before me, a question came before the relief could.

Did I kill that man?

Sure, I led him there.

But this was self-defense. He brought it on himself.

He tried to kill me first.

No — never mind. It's all my fault.

I'll chalk it up that way, so please, let this just be a dream.

Please, I want to wake up from this filthy nightmare.

“……Urk!”

Nausea surged up without warning.

I wanted to vomit everything out right there.

But the thought that the Railroad Police might come back made me clamp a hand over my mouth.

Then I bolted headlong into the restroom I could see across the hall.

Only when I saw the layout inside did I realize this was the women's room.

But there was no time to turn around and leave.

“Urk — uwechk!”

I dove into the nearest stall and buried my head in the toilet.

Coffee was all I'd had in me for the past half day, so nothing came up but bile.

I was heaving my guts out, gasping for breath, when —

Clunk!

At the sound from beside me, I jerked like someone with a full-blown case of nerves, glancing from ceiling to floor and back.

Thankfully, no rope came crawling in through the gaps between the stalls.

Then what was that sound?

Did I imagine it?

Or — is someone there?

The moment the thought formed, my blood went cold.

When I first arrived, other people had been a comfort.

Not anymore.

In the span of a few dozen minutes, the world I lived in had changed.

So I had no choice but to change with it.

Holding my breath, I leapt out of the stall.

No one was there.

So I looked around, searching for the source of the sound.

The stalls lining the room front and back were all ajar, cracked open about a hand's width.

But for some reason, exactly one door stood shut tight.

My heart lurched.

Then that same tide of revulsion I'd felt earlier came surging back.

I converted that fear into hostility and started walking.

Someone is hiding in there.

If I didn't want to be a victim again, I had to catch them first.

They'd have locked it from the inside, surely. Would it open if I kicked it?

No — if I did that, I might end up dead at the hands of the Railroad Police.

Then how do I get them out of there?

I glanced around, looking for a suitable tool — and then I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

The me in the mirror — clothes askew, hair in disarray — was gasping for breath like an outright madwoman.

……That's me?

Confronting that spectacle, all my agitation drained away in an instant.

It only then occurred to me that I might be the unwelcome guest here.

What kind of person lays in wait in a women's restroom to ambush someone?

“Hah……”

I barely recovered my senses and scrubbed my face dry.

I suppose this is what it looks like when someone loses their mind.

Jumping straight to dragging a stranger out of a locked stall.

Only once I'd calmed did I turn to look at that firmly shut door again.

I didn't know who was inside, but I wanted to avoid meeting them if I could.

So I made to leave quietly.

But my steps didn't last long.

Yes, I was wary of other people now.

And yet — the one who spoke to me when I was trembling like a leaf, and the one who gave me this rulebook and opened my path to survival — both of them were other people too.

I sighed again and approached the shut stall.

I gave the door a light push — it didn't budge, apparently locked from within.

So I knocked.

Knock knock.

Naturally, no answer.

Right. Who answers to a stranger, anyway?

I thought about calling out, then gave up on that.

Instead, I slid the rulebook pamphlet under the partition.

They might need it, I figured. I'd just hand it over and go.

I'd already memorized the whole thing — and swallowing help for myself while hoarding it in this hellhole felt like something less than human would do.

But just as I bent down to slide the rulebook under —

BANG!

The door flew open and something slammed into my head.

“……!”

More startled than hurt, I staggered back — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then reflexively grabbed hold of whoever came bursting out.

There was resistance, but it wasn't strong.

Desperate, yes — but weak enough that I could subdue them without trouble.

The person who'd just shot out of the stall was a girl in a school uniform.