Mururunsoft
Online/Offline Compatible Roguelike MO Action + Online Versus Action.
Saki's Memory
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 1
My power destroyed my father.
A healing ability without pain or cost, capable of closing wounds and reconnecting broken bones. It could heal almost any injury, yet it could never reach deep enough inside another person's body. Disease alone remained beyond my reach. My father called that incomplete power a "miracle" - and little by little, it destroyed him.
* * *
Apparently, I was supposed to be born dead.
Nobody ever told me that directly, but by piecing together relatives' gossip and the drunken things my father occasionally muttered, that seemed to be the truth. The delivery had been difficult. Complications arose midway through, and there was apparently a real possibility neither of us would survive.
That was all I knew.
And yet somehow, both my mother and I lived.
No one could clearly explain why.
Only my father treated the event as something extraordinary.
"You were different from the moment you were born."
That was his favorite phrase.
He never explained what he meant by "different," and I never asked.
As a child, I was constantly getting hurt. I fell often, scraped my knees, and sometimes cut myself deeply. But my injuries healed at abnormal speed. By the next day, the wounds would already be closed, and after a few more days, even the scars disappeared completely.
I had no idea whether that was normal or strange.
More than anything, I barely understood pain itself.
Even when I was injured, I only recognized something serious had happened because other people panicked around me. Inside myself, there was no sensation corresponding to their reactions.
It happened during an art class while we were carving wood.
The girl sitting beside me slipped and cut her finger with her carving knife. The wound was not deep, but blood immediately began flowing, and the classroom erupted into commotion. The teacher was called over. Someone suggested taking her to the nurse's office.
I kept staring at the wound.
The cut itself, and the blood flowing from it, stood out with unnatural clarity.
Before I realized it, I had touched her hand.
I was not consciously trying to stop the bleeding or heal her. It simply felt natural to do so. A faint greenish light, visible only to me, quietly moved along the wound.
After a short while, the bleeding stopped.
The cut, which had been visibly split open moments earlier, became almost impossible to see.
The room gradually fell silent.
The teacher slowly pulled my hand away from the girl's finger.
I do not remember much after that.
By the time I returned home, my father had already heard the story. I do not know how much of it was true and how much had been exaggerated, but from that day onward, the way he looked at me changed.
I stopped being treated like a child.
Instead, I became something to be examined.
Whenever I got hurt after that, my father would carefully check the injury after some time had passed and confirm that nothing remained.
And every single time, he asked the same question.
"How are you doing it?"
I could never answer.
It was not something I consciously controlled.
My mother avoided the subject entirely, and more and more often she would step between us whenever my father brought it up.
Not long afterward, my father began bringing people into the house.
At first, they were acquaintances. Coworkers. Neighbors. People with harmless injuries - scrapes from falling, cuts from kitchen knives, things like that.
Whenever they came, I was brought into the living room.
My father would tell me to touch the injury.
The result was always the same.
The bleeding stopped.
The wound closed.
People gasped in amazement. They thanked me. My father nodded proudly beside them.
"Isn't she incredible?"
"This girl is special."
That was how he explained me.
As time passed, the people he brought changed. Strangers gradually replaced familiar faces, and the conversations became heavier. Fewer people asked what kind of injuries I could heal. More often, they asked what exactly I was capable of.
Even then, my father continued repeating the same thing.
"It's fine."
"Your power is a miracle given to you by God."
Around that time, my mother began avoiding those gatherings entirely. She would find excuses to stay in the kitchen or leave the house altogether. Whenever our eyes met, she looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end she never did.
I mostly stood there in silence.
If someone asked me to heal them, I touched them. Once it was over, I returned to my room.
I did not really understand what I was doing.
But I noticed my father's voice gradually changing.
The way he spoke to other people became identical to the way he spoke to me.
At some point, he also began accepting envelopes after people left.
At first he had refused them, but eventually it became routine.
"It's just gratitude."
"It would be rude not to accept it."
That was what he said.
Around then, he stopped talking about work entirely. The time he left the house each morning became inconsistent, while he grew increasingly concerned with when visitors would arrive instead.
Before long, he had quit his original job altogether.
As all this continued, the limits of my power gradually became clear.
As far as injuries were concerned, I believed I could heal almost anything.
One day, a man arrived after losing his hand in a factory accident. At first I thought even I might not be able to heal something like that.
But when I tried, it worked without issue.
I could even regenerate a completely missing hand.
Yet abnormalities occurring deep inside another person's body remained completely untouchable.
I could not even cure a mild cold.
I could feel my power reaching far deeper within my own body, but somehow I could never apply that same depth to others.
A little after that, my mother began changing.
She tired more easily. She started missing work more often and gradually stopped leaving the house.
At first we thought it was simply age, and my mother herself insisted that was all it was.
But the changes never reversed.
I tried to heal her.
I believed that was the one thing I was supposed to do.
Again and again, I touched her. Again and again, I concentrated.
Nothing changed.
My power could not reach my mother's illness.
I could close wounds on the outside, but anything destroying someone from within remained beyond me.
My father could not accept that reality.
"You healed people before."
"You did it when you were born too, didn't you?"
Little by little, those words changed.
They became demands.
Then prayers.
And eventually, anger.
The day my mother died, my father did not cry.
He only stared at me silently.
As though searching for an answer.
After that, he slowly began falling apart.
The house deteriorated. The garden was abandoned. The structure of our lives collapsed piece by piece. The smell of alcohol grew stronger. His words became harsher. And the way he looked at me began mixing expectation with hatred.
My father believed in my power.
Then that power betrayed him.
And when the thing he believed in shattered, he shattered with it.
That was the end of the family I knew.
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 2
My father was holding a metal baseball bat.
I did not know when it had started sitting there. What mattered was that it was clearly a tool meant for striking people.
His eyes appeared fixed on me, but in truth he was looking at something else entirely. He was not looking at my face. He looked like a man desperately searching for an answer.
Nothing I said here would matter.
So instead of moving, I chose to raise my voice.
"I've had enough! Aaaahhh!!"
The sound that left my throat was louder than I intended.
But that was fine.
The scream echoed throughout the house and spilled outside. Mixed together with my father's shouting, it probably sounded like a genuine cry for help.
It needed to sound that way.
My father reacted immediately. As if trying to silence me, he raised the metal bat overhead.
If nobody came, then that would be the end of it.
Being struck by that bat was still one possible outcome.
Thinking that, I remained still.
Then, in the next instant, the window shattered.
Cold night air rushed violently into the room, replacing the atmosphere inside the house. My father's movement froze, and his gaze shifted away from me.
A man stood there.
He looked as though he had dragged the darkness of the night itself into the room with him. Tall and heavily built, with a drunkenly flushed face and the unmistakable presence of violence clinging to him like a physical thing.
Before thought could catch up, my father's body moved.
"Who the hell are you...?!"
At the same moment he shouted, he swung the metal bat downward at the man.
There was no hesitation.
No restraint.
It followed the exact same path that had been aimed at me moments earlier.
- He's going to get hit.
That was what I thought.
Instead, the man casually caught the tip of the descending bat with one hand just before impact.
With a slight twist, he ripped the bat from my father's grasp and immediately slammed the handle sideways into my father's ribs.
A dull impact echoed through the room.
My father's body crashed against the floor. Groaning in pain, he glared up at the man.
"Calm down, old man."
The man spoke in a low voice.
"Is she your daughter? Families are supposed to get along, y'know?"
My father did not answer.
Only his ragged breathing continued.
The man glanced once at the metal bat still in his hand.
Then came a sound.
Crunch. Crack.
A horrible metallic noise rang directly into my ears.
The bat distorted inside his grip.
No - distorted was not the right word.
It was being crushed.
The long metal shape lost form almost instantly, collapsing inward until it became a compact lump no larger than a baseball.
The man casually tossed the finished metal sphere onto the floor. It rolled a short distance before stopping with a heavy clunk.
"See this? If you think about calling the cops on me, you'd better consider the consequences."
Only then did he finally look toward me.
Still crouched against the floor, I stared at the metal ball rolling nearby. To him, I probably looked terrified enough to cry.
But even I could tell how calm my eyes were.
It was not just fear.
- I'm not the only one.
For the first time in my life, I had witnessed someone else's "ability."
That realization slowly sank deep into my chest.
* * *
After the man left, the house suddenly became quiet.
Cold night air drifted in through the shattered window, stirring dust and scraps of paper across the floor. My father remained collapsed there for a long time before finally sitting up.
I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall while watching him.
I felt no need to approach him.
His breathing was rough, and only his eyes moved. The way he looked at me now contained something different from before. Not anger. Not expectation.
Only confusion.
Eventually, my father slowly raised himself upright. He opened his mouth as though trying to say something, then closed it again without producing any words.
"...It's already late today."
My own voice sounded calmer than I expected.
"I'm going back to my room."
My father said nothing.
No shouting.
No attempt to stop me.
He only watched.
"...I'm sorry for causing trouble all this time."
I did not know whether that was truly the correct thing to say.
It simply felt like the safest option.
"Father."
It had been a long time since I last called him that.
Without saying anything else, I returned to my room. I closed the door, but I did not lock it. I could still feel my father's presence lingering in the hallway outside.
That night, he never came to my room.
Not in the morning.
Not in the afternoon either.
The house contained only ordinary living sounds now. No conversation passed between us. Though we remained under the same roof, it felt as though neither of us truly existed to the other anymore.
During that time, I quietly packed my belongings.
There was plenty of time.
I had already sorted what I needed from what I did not.
My light blue knapsack was small. Once I packed spare clothes and the bare essentials, it immediately became full.
On my way toward the front entrance, I glanced into the living room one last time.
My father was not there.
And there was no longer any reason to call out to him.
* * *
By the time I finally left the house, it was completely dark outside.
When I slid the door open, cold night air rushed toward me, far harsher than during the day. Carrying the light blue knapsack on my back, I stepped outside. It was heavier than expected, though not enough to slow my pace.
After only a few steps, I noticed someone approaching from down the road.
My heart skipped once.
- It's the man from yesterday.
The man stopped walking when he noticed me. Judging by his expression, running into me had been pure coincidence. He had not deliberately come looking for me.
For some reason, that made me feel slightly relieved.
"You were the one who helped me yesterday, right?"
I spoke first.
My voice sounded stiffer than I expected.
"Thank you so much! I've decided to run away from home."
Saying the words out loud made the situation feel more real.
The man looked briefly surprised, but he quickly seemed to understand. His eyes shifted toward the knapsack hanging from my back.
Meanwhile, I found myself remembering the previous night.
The sound of metal bending.
The bat collapsing into a sphere.
I still did not understand how his power worked, but one thing was certain.
It was not normal.
"How did you do that yesterday?"
The man shrugged slightly.
"Curious?"
Honestly, I nodded.
After glancing around once, he ripped an aluminum bakery sign loose from nearby.
For a moment, it felt as though the atmosphere around him physically expanded.
Then, in the next instant, the metal twisted like paper and crumpled effortlessly within his hand.
"..."
I frowned.
"Please change it back."
The man blinked in surprise, then reluctantly stretched the crushed sign outward again. It did not fully return to normal and remained covered in deep wrinkles.
Looking at the ruined sign, he let out an awkward laugh.
My eyes shifted toward his arm.
A dark bruise remained clearly visible there. Thinking back to last night, there had been nothing severe enough to leave marks like that. He must have gotten it somewhere else.
"Is that a bruise on your arm? Can I see it?"
The man gave me a suspicious look but still held out his arm.
I gently placed my hand against it.
The familiar sensation gathered at my fingertips the moment I focused. A faint greenish light spread thinly across the bruise before slowly fading away together with the discoloration itself.
I saw the man's eyes widen.
"I've had this ability too."
I pulled my hand away.
"I've used it to heal myself from my father's abuse. But lately... it's only made things worse."
Why am I telling him this?
There was no reason to explain that much to someone like him.
The man did not press further. He simply studied my face quietly.
"I'm going to stay with my aunt for a while."
For some reason, that was the one thing I truly wanted to tell him.
"I hope we meet again."
After a short pause, the man nodded.
"Yeah. Well... maybe if fate gives us the chance."
Even after he turned and walked away, I remained standing there for a while. My heartbeat was still louder than usual.
After adjusting the weight of the light blue knapsack on my shoulders, I began walking in the opposite direction.
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 3
I knew where my aunt's house was. Take a bus from the station, get off at the last stop, then walk a little farther. I'd only been there once as a child, but I still vaguely remembered what the house looked like.
That was during the daytime, though.
I deliberately chose to travel at night. I wanted to avoid being seen. If that was the goal, I couldn't take the normal route. Going out at night would have been pointless.
Looking at the map on my phone, I found another route that crossed a small hill instead of passing through the residential area. There were few streetlights and almost no pedestrians. It was a bit of a detour, but it would attract less attention.
The problem wasn't whether I could get there. It was what would happen after I arrived.
My aunt might help me. She might not. She probably wouldn't welcome me, but that didn't necessarily mean she'd turn me away either. And if she refused to help... what then? I chose not to think that far ahead.
If it didn't work out, I'd just head into the mountains. I remembered there being a lot of forest around my aunt's house. There had to be some abandoned shed somewhere. As long as it had a roof and a place to sleep, that would be enough. My injuries healed. I could handle a little hardship.
Living in the wilderness like a wild fox didn't sound so bad. Avoid people. Move at night. Hide during the day.
—Whether any of that was actually realistic, I didn't consider.
* * *
I arrived at my aunt's house just as the sky was beginning to brighten.
After walking mountain paths all night, my legs felt heavy, and the inside of my shoes was slightly damp. Even so, I wasn't sleepy. The only thing steadily approaching was the fact that morning was coming.
The house looked a little older than I remembered, but the color of the walls and the shape of the gate matched the vague memories in my mind. There was no mistake.
I stopped in front of the gate and wondered whether I should ring the doorbell.
After thinking it over, I pressed it.
A while later, I heard a lock click open, and the door swung open.
My aunt looked down at me in surprise. Her gaze moved to my feet, then to the light blue backpack on my back, and finally returned to my face.
"...What happened?"
Her voice was low, still carrying traces of sleep.
I took a breath and answered briefly.
"Could you let me stay here for a while?"
She didn't reply immediately. Instead, she opened the door wider and let me inside.
* * *
The house was filled with the sounds of everyday life. Morning preparations. Noises from the kitchen. Water boiling. It was different from the house I'd come from. It wasn't falling apart. There was no need to stay on guard all the time. These were the sounds of a normal home.
I heard footsteps from upstairs.
A child I didn't recognize came down the stairs. A little younger than me. Wearing a backpack and fussing with their socks, they glanced my way.
"Oh. Who's that?"
There was neither surprise nor suspicion in the question. It was simply a request for confirmation.
"A relative's child."
My aunt answered casually.
"Huh."
That was all. The child looked away from me. It wasn't so much that they'd lost interest as that they'd finished making a judgment.
As they headed toward the entrance, they suddenly stopped and looked at my back. Their eyes were on the light blue backpack.
"What's that? Did you run away from home?"
I didn't answer.
The child merely shrugged, said nothing more, put on their shoes, and left. A moment later, the front door closed. Probably heading to school.
At last, the house grew quiet, and the atmosphere settled.
* * *
After breakfast, time passed slowly.
There was no adult man in the house. My aunt was a homemaker, and her husband was apparently away on a long business trip. That fact brought two feelings at once: relief, and the sense that I couldn't stay here forever.
I sat in the corner of the living room, doing nothing in particular. The television played. The clock hands moved.
A little after ten o'clock, my aunt sat across from me, placing a small laptop on the table with its screen already open.
"Hey."
I looked up.
"To be honest, I don't know what I should do. I'm not planning to turn you out, but I don't think it's right to leave things undecided forever."
After a short pause, she continued.
"So I thought I'd consult a professional."
After typing something, she turned the laptop toward me.
"Look. There are consultation services that handle cases like this."
On the screen was a website displaying an illustration of a woman who looked like some kind of guide, alongside several input fields. It didn't seem special. Just an ordinary consultation form.
"...That's fine."
My aunt let out a relieved breath and began typing. Name, age, and a brief explanation of the situation. I watched as she filled out the form, occasionally answering her questions.
Finally, she pressed the submit button.
"I don't think we'll get a reply right away."
That was what she said.
Immediately afterward, her phone rang. She checked the screen, then quickly looked away. It was probably just an automatic confirmation email.
However, only a few minutes later, her phone rang again.
Looking slightly puzzled, she checked the screen once more. Then she showed it to me.
It was a reply from the consultation site.
The message was brief and formal.
—We have received your inquiry. A representative will contact or visit you directly in the near future.
At the bottom of the message was only the scheduled date and time of the visit. There was no information about who the representative would be.
"...Isn't that awfully fast?"
I couldn't answer.
A small feeling of unease lingered in my chest. I didn't know why. I only felt that this wasn't a coincidence.
As if something had already been decided somewhere.
That strange sensation alone remained quietly behind.
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 4
Two days later, in the afternoon, the doorbell rang.
My aunt straightened her posture slightly before heading for the entrance. I remained in the living room, listening to the television while quietly paying attention to the conversation outside. I heard a man's voice—low, calm, and clear, though not forceful.
"Hello. I'm here regarding the consultation request."
A little later, my aunt called for me.
Standing in the living room was a tall, slender man. He had short hair streaked with gray, rimless square glasses, and appeared to be somewhere in his fifties. A small gold badge was pinned to the chest of his suit.
I recognized what he was immediately.
A lawyer.
"Nice to meet you."
The man gave a slight bow.
"I've come to hear your story today."
His voice was polite and carried little inflection. There was no sense of intimidation, but there was no ambiguity either.
My aunt and the lawyer spoke first. They discussed the situation at home, everything that had happened so far, and the concerns ahead. I sat a short distance away, listening to the conversation. Even though they were talking about me, it felt as though I wasn't really part of it.
"May I ask you a few questions as well?"
The man turned toward me.
"Have you ever felt that your body was different from other people's?"
—What kind of question was that supposed to be?
I hesitated for a moment. Still, I had no reason to deny it.
"...Yes."
The man nodded. He didn't appear to be taking notes. He simply watched my face quietly.
"Has anyone ever told you to use that difference?"
There was a brief pause.
"...Yes."
That was enough to end the questioning.
"There's no need to reach any conclusions right away."
The man turned back toward my aunt.
"For the time being, it's best if she stays here. As for the formal procedures, we'll proceed gradually while monitoring the situation."
My aunt let out a relieved breath.
As I listened, a strange feeling settled over me. I wasn't being rejected. I wasn't being thrown out. And yet, it felt as though my place in the world was slowly becoming fixed.
The conversation ended there. The man stood and headed toward the entrance, but before leaving, he looked back at me.
"Don't push yourself."
His voice remained calm and matter-of-fact.
"For now, that's enough."
The sound of the door closing echoed through the house, and silence returned.
* * *
Perhaps it was thanks to that lawyer's skill, but everything that followed was decided with surprising ease.
My situation was settled as a temporary protective arrangement, with my aunt acting as my guardian and allowing me to stay in her home. The paperwork and communication with the school seemed to fall into place before I even realized it.
For a while afterward, I hardly attended school at all. I didn't need to explain why, and no one tried to force me back.
I never attended the graduation ceremony. Instead, some time later, my homeroom teacher handed me my diploma in an unused classroom tucked away in the back of the school building. That was all. There were no photographs and no applause, but that didn't matter. The formalities had already served their purpose.
After discussing it with my aunt, I enrolled in a correspondence high school. I wasn't using her family name, and nothing had been formally settled. I was simply allowed to remain here.
And that state of affairs continued quietly on.
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 5
A season had clearly passed.
The air had grown humid, and even in the evening the temperature no longer fell easily. I had become a high school student. It was a correspondence school, but on paper, that was what I was. I completed assignments at home and only attended school when necessary. My aunt called it "the least stressful option."
There certainly was less stress. But that didn't mean I had found a place where I belonged.
The house was quiet, clean, and free of problems. My aunt was considerate of me and gave me the space I needed.
There was also a child living there, a little younger than me. We exchanged greetings when we crossed paths, but that was all. Our daily routines and interests never overlapped. We were simply two people living under the same roof.
The feeling of suffocation never completely disappeared. The only reason I was here was because of someone else's kindness and a series of formal procedures. As the days passed, that fact became harder and harder to ignore.
The more time I spent inside the house, the more I found myself searching for reasons to leave. Shopping. A walk. Anything would do. I would pretend I had somewhere to go and step out the front door.
Behind the house was a small mountain. Not a steep one—more like a gentle rise that continued naturally beyond the edge of the residential area. The paved road ended partway up, giving way to a dirt trail that disappeared into the forest.
At first, I only walked near the entrance. I would listen to the wind moving through the trees, breathe in the scent of damp earth, and then turn back. Even that felt easier than staying at home.
Gradually, I ventured deeper. The path narrowed, fallen leaves gathered beneath my feet, and as summer approached, the greenery grew thicker while patches of sunlight filtered through the canopy above. Even during the day, the forest was dim. Human voices never reached this place. Instead, there were insects buzzing and birds calling from the trees.
I would raise the binoculars I kept in my pocket and watch the birds. They were little more than a toy—lightweight, low-powered binoculars—but I liked them because they were easy to carry.
Here, I didn't have to talk to anyone. No one expected anything from me, and I never had to explain myself.
I often sat down wherever I pleased and remained there for long stretches of time. Sometimes I leaned against a tree trunk. Sometimes I sat on a rock. I never decided in advance how long I would stay. When I felt like leaving, I stood up. If I didn't, I simply remained where I was.
In the forest, I didn't have to think about where I belonged. There was no meaning in having a reason to be there, nor in having a reason not to be there.
Before I realized it, those moments had become a regular part of my life.
* * *
Around that time, a series of disturbing news reports had plunged the entire country into fear.
It began with the brutal slaughter of construction workers at a work site. After that, mysterious mass murders started occurring across the country. The serial killer appeared without warning, and no one could find any pattern in the locations. People said the murderer wore a distinctive hockey mask.
But those stories had nothing to do with me.
Or so I thought.
That day, I was walking through the forest as usual. I had left home in the evening, but time became difficult to judge beneath the trees. The canopy blocked the sky, making it hard to tell how much daylight remained.
Before I noticed, it had grown darker than I expected. The sun had not fully set, but in the forest, the boundary between evening and night had already become vague. A small sense of unease crept into me. I'd gone a little farther than usual.
Then, suddenly, I heard voices. Laughter. The sounds of several people gathered together.
That was unusual in the forest.
I stopped and listened.
After walking a little farther, the trees opened up.
There was a campground.
Tents stood in neat rows, and lanterns flickered throughout the area. Against the darkness surrounding them, the lights seemed to float in the night.
I turned to leave. It was definitely time to head home.
Then the ground shook.
A dull impact traveled up through my feet. The tremor did not stop after a single shock. It spread slowly and heavily beneath the earth. The next moment, a flurry of wings exploded into the air.
Birds.
Startled from their roosts, they scattered across the night sky in every direction.
Then I looked back toward the campground.
What I saw was impossible.
A single person was lifting an enormous tree. The massive trunk, many times taller than a human, had been ripped from the ground and was being swung sideways with impossible strength.
Heavy crashes rang out one after another.
Fabric tore. Frames shattered. The rows of tents collapsed one after another.
People screamed. Those who failed to escape in time tumbled to the ground. Lanterns overturned, scattering light wildly across the scene.
Inside the collapsed tents, I could see motionless shapes. A faint sound reached me a moment later. Perhaps it had been a groan.
I raised my binoculars and focused on the figure.
Reflected in the lantern light, a white hockey mask emerged from the darkness.
A chill ran down my throat.
"...The serial killer."
I wasn't sure whether I had spoken aloud. But the words formed clearly in my mind.
I should have run. If I disappeared back into the forest, there was a chance he would never find me.
And yet—
"Stop!"
The shout escaped before I realized it.
I hadn't thought it through. I hadn't consciously decided to intervene. My mouth moved first.
Even I was surprised by how loud my voice was.
The man turned toward me.
The lantern light flickered across the white mask. Beyond it, I could only sense his gaze.
"You're the killer they've been talking about on the news, aren't you? Why are you doing this?!"
My voice echoed through the forest.
Before I even finished speaking, a terrible feeling crawled up my spine.
The next instant, the air warped.
Branches and leaves rushed toward me. My vision spun sideways.
Impact.
My body flew through the air before slamming into the ground. The breath was knocked from my lungs.
Branches struck my face and shoulders, and darkness filled my vision.
I could feel my skin tearing.
But there was no pain.
...Not again.
The thought came before fear did.
A detached realization.
This wasn't fatal.
At least, not for me.
A shadow moved at the edge of my vision.
"Lady… I get that you wanted to be brave and stop me, but that's not courage—that's just suicide."
His voice was low and dry.
"You don't charge an elephant barehanded, do you?"
...That voice.
Heat began spreading through my body. A pale green light wrapped itself around me. The skin that had been torn apart was already healing.
Slowly, I stood.
There was nothing wrong with my body.
I took a few steps toward him.
"I knew it…!"
My voice trembled slightly.
"Did you really think a mask could fool my eyes?"
The man's movement stopped.
Several seconds passed. Nothing happened.
Only the tension in the night air remained.
Then came the sound of a click of the tongue.
"Tch… You again."
Something in his tone changed. The excitement from earlier seemed to vanish.
"Listen. You already know this, don't you? Your ability isn't something that can kill me."
"Stop getting involved with dangerous people like me."
His posture lowered. I could see an unnatural amount of tension gathering in the leg pressing against the ground.
"Wait!"
The moment I shouted, the air exploded.
His body launched skyward.
"Please, wait…!"
There was no way my voice could reach him. With astonishing jumping power, he widened the distance in an instant. A moment later, he vanished into the darkness of the night.
Only chaos remained in the campground.
Crying. Calls for help. Voices scattered throughout the darkness.
I picked up a towel that had fallen nearby and used it to cover my face. Without giving my name or explaining anything, I moved among the crushed tents. Again and again, pale green light shimmered through the darkness.
I don't know how much time passed.
By the time I noticed, I could hear ambulance sirens in the distance.
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 6
The next morning, the sound of the television filled the house.
It was an ordinary morning, no different from any other. My aunt stood in the kitchen, stirring a steaming pot while the clinking of dishes echoed rhythmically through the room.
The television was showing the morning news. Weather. Traffic reports. Then crime.
"Breaking news regarding the fatal assault that occurred early this morning in XX Prefecture."
The screen showed an unfamiliar town. Residential streets. Police tape. The ground blurred from view. The atmosphere at the scene was completely different from the forest the night before. Even so, something about the report felt strangely familiar.
"According to witnesses, the suspect appeared without warning, attacked the victims with a weapon, and then vanished."
My aunt let out a quiet sigh.
"Things have gotten so dangerous... There seem to be incidents like this all the time lately."
That was all she said before turning her attention away from the television.
At the corner of the screen appeared a composite sketch based on witness testimony.
A white, expressionless mask.
A chill ran down my throat.
...Again.
This wasn't about the campground. I knew that. No one had died there. No one had even been seriously injured. By the time the ambulances arrived, everyone had somehow survived. No one had seen the man. As far as anyone knew, this case had nothing to do with what had happened yesterday.
That was how the news presented it.
Even so, one feeling remained unmistakably clear.
I couldn't stop him.
I knew there was no point dwelling on it, yet my thoughts kept circling back to the same place.
"The police are also investigating the possibility that this may be another crime committed by the same perpetrator..."
My aunt set down her teacup and spoke casually.
"Don't push yourself, okay? You're staying home today, aren't you?"
I gave a small nod.
But I couldn't get the image of his back as he disappeared into the night out of my head.
Where will he strike next?
That question alone lingered in my mind.
* * *
A little after noon, the doorbell rang.
My aunt answered with a brief, "Coming," and headed for the entrance. I stayed in the living room and switched off the television.
From beyond the door came a familiar, low voice.
"Good afternoon. I've come to give you an update."
A few minutes later, my aunt called me over.
Standing in the living room was the same man as before. Tall and slender, with short gray-streaked hair, rimless square glasses, and the same small gold badge pinned to his suit.
"It's good to see you again."
He gave a slight bow. His gaze fell first on my aunt, then shifted to me with quiet precision.
"I have a few formal matters to confirm. It's simply to help organize the arrangements for your future."
"And one more thing."
He paused briefly.
"Has anything unusual happened recently?"
My aunt tilted her head.
"Anything unusual...?"
"Yes. Your health, your daily life... Anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small."
She thought for a moment.
"Not really... She's been spending her days quietly, haven't you?"
She looked toward me.
I gave a vague nod.
The man didn't seem to miss my reaction.
"I see."
He nodded once, though his eyes remained fixed on me.
"There is one more thing I'd like to mention."
His tone remained calm.
"A choice. There's no need to decide now, but I think it's something you should know."
My aunt straightened slightly.
"A choice?"
"Yes."
The man reached into his bag and took out a small cloth pouch, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.
"This is something like a good-luck charm. Simply carrying it is enough."
He gently placed it on the table.
There was nothing decorative about it, yet it somehow drew my attention.
"If there ever comes a time when you truly wish to change something yourself..."
"If something happens that you simply cannot ignore..."
His eyes met mine.
"There is a place where people use their abilities."
"...More precisely, there is an opportunity to use them."
My aunt started to speak, but the man gently raised a hand to stop her.
"The details are for her alone. If the time comes, she'll understand naturally."
Strangely, the explanation didn't feel unnatural.
"I'm not here to persuade you."
His voice remained as calm as ever.
"I simply wanted you to know that for someone like you... there is another path you can choose."
I couldn't take my eyes off the small cloth pouch resting on the table.
"That was all I came to tell you today."
The man stood and gave another slight bow.
The front door closed behind him, and the quiet returned to the house.
Only the small cloth pouch remained on the table.
* * *
That night, I was alone in my room.
The cloth pouch I had received earlier lay on my desk. I had no idea what was inside. It had no weight to it, and it made no sound. The only thing that lingered in my mind was the lawyer's description of it as a "good-luck charm."
The white mask. The man's back as he fled. The images from the news.
"If something happens that you simply cannot ignore."
I let out a quiet sigh and reached for the pouch.
The moment I untied the string, the air shifted ever so slightly.
"Oh! You finally opened it!"
A cheerful, carefree voice burst out from right beside me.
My body tensed before I could even think, and I turned toward the sound.
Floating in midair was a silver cat, its four transparent wings beating lazily.
It looked like a cat, though not quite. Its soft-looking fur covered a slender body, while four tails swayed gently behind it. One eye was gold, the other blue. The golden eye was framed by a mask-like ornament of the same color. It carried a staff longer than its own body, crowned with a large crimson gem that shimmered with an eerie glow.
There was nothing sinister or hostile about it.
If anything, it resembled a cat-shaped fairy with an almost artificial perfection.
For the moment, I decided to call it the Cat Fairy.
"Don't worry. I'm not here to do anything to you."
Its tone was lighthearted.
Yet the mere fact that its voice existed in this room already felt unreal.
"That pouch? Think of it as a signal."
The Cat Fairy said it as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
"You opened it yourself. That's why I came."
I looked down at the pouch lying on the desk.
"...What are you?"
"A guide, I guess. Call me whatever you like. Anyway, down to business."
The Cat Fairy straightened its posture slightly as it hovered in the air.
"There's a little event going on right now. People with special abilities gather together and compete in various ways. And of course, the participants receive rewards."
The crimson gem at the tip of its staff caught the light.
"Items from our world. Things you could never obtain by ordinary means. I'm sure they'd be useful for what you're trying to accomplish."
I remained silent for a moment.
"...What if I don't participate?"
"Then nothing happens."
The Cat Fairy answered without hesitation.
"Everything you've seen here and everything you've heard will simply become as though it never happened. You'll go back to your ordinary life. That's all."
I lowered my eyes.
"You don't have to decide right now."
Its voice softened ever so slightly.
"Just come and take a look first. See the place. See what everyone is doing. After that, you can decide whether you want to join."
Silence settled over the room.
On the desk lay the now-empty pouch.
In my mind, the news reports played over and over again.
"...If I'm only looking."
That was all I said.
The Cat Fairy's tails swayed happily.
"That's more than enough. Come on, I'll show you."
In an instant, my vision blurred into white.
The next moment, I found myself standing in a white room.
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 7
It was a white room, about eight tatami mats in size. The walls, floor, and ceiling had no unnecessary decoration, all unified in the same plain color. Against one wall stood a bed about the size of a semi-double, with a small desk and something like a tablet terminal placed beside it. On the opposite wall was a sliding door that looked as though it led to a washroom. There was nothing in the center of the room. It was a simple space containing only the bare minimum needed for daily life.
There was only one thing that felt out of place. At the far end of the room, a massive monitor hung from the ceiling. It was clearly too large for a living space, insisting beyond doubt that this was not merely a "room."
"This will be your room," the Cat Fairy said, floating in the air with its usual light tone. "There's only the bare minimum here for now, but if you need anything, just enter it into that terminal. Well... guns and weird stuff will get rejected, though."
It sounded like a joke, but I still had no idea how I was supposed to take this situation. I had not been abducted. I had chosen this myself. Even so, the place where that choice had brought me felt far too unreal.
"Anyway, no point standing around. Why don't you sit down for now?"
Prompted by the Cat Fairy, I sat down on the bed.
"It's faster to show you than to explain." The Cat Fairy gave its staff a small wave toward the monitor. "The substance of what you're about to choose."
The monitor quietly shifted its angle until it faced me directly. At the same time, the lights in the room dimmed. The white room sank into darkness. Then an image appeared on the enormous screen.
* * *
A vast abandoned factory with a high ceiling. Exposed steel beams ran overhead in a grid, while rusted cranes and crumbling scaffolds cast shadows into the darkness. A pale green mist covered the floor, and the beams of floodlights placed here and there cut through it like blades.
The air was silent. All the machinery should have been stopped, yet a low reverberation, like metal creaking somewhere in the distance, continued to linger. There was no sign of people. And yet, it was clear that the place was not completely empty.
Then something alien glided into the air above the center of the space. It was a glossy white floating platform fitted with several white feathers that glowed with a faint golden light. The feathers beat with mechanical regularity, but their motion was astonishingly smooth, as if the platform were being supported by the air itself.
It was not human technology. That much, I understood the moment I saw it.
Standing on the platform was a glamorous woman who reminded me vaguely of a showgirl. Her reddish-purple dress-like top boldly exposed her shoulders, and a black lace-up corset emphasized the line of her waist. She wore tight high socks and heeled boots. A decorative mask covered her face, and a large flower ornament swayed in her hair. Against the factory's lifeless scenery, she looked absurdly out of place, and strangely eye-catching.
The woman smiled cheerfully, spinning a floating microphone around as if it were a toy. Then she drew in a deep breath.
"Yahoo! Hello, everyone in front of the screen! Were you waiting? Of course you were! Then let's get started tonight too! A showtime of madness and excitement!"
Her intonation had a strange quirk to it, but her high, carrying voice echoed against the factory ceiling. With that single shout, the silent space seemed to change color.
"The rules are super simple! Battle royale format! Last one standing wins! Everyone here is your enemy! Best friends, lovers, none of that matters! Teeth, fists, abilities, anything goes!"
She spread both arms wide, pointing toward the rusted beams and the dark ceiling.
"Now, right here in the middle of this ruined factory! Let the Maddening Masquerade begin! Fight, ability users! Bare your desires, your way of life, and your very souls!"
At the same time as her cry rang out, the lights set within the mist lit up one after another. The image shifted, showing three figures standing in different parts of the factory.
At the center of the factory stood a woman. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She was slender and stood with a languid air. Her long, unruly hair fell untied down her back, swaying unevenly whenever she moved.
Her face was covered by a black cloth. It resembled the kind used by stagehands, but the texture looked much softer. Thin and faintly absorbing the light, it hung over the area from her eyes to her nose. Through the cloth, only her outline and presence could be sensed. Her expression could not be read. And her clothing was obviously out of place.
A black negligee. Indoor sleepwear edged with lace. The fabric covering her skin was thin, failing to fully hide the lines of her body. In the factory's sterile scenery, it looked strangely alien.
Two other people had been placed more than ten meters away from her.
The first was clearly the one meant to take the front line. He was large, with broad shoulders and no excess fat, carrying the thickness of someone who had used his body for years. He looked to be in his late twenties or around thirty. His clothing was purely practical. Beneath a heavy jacket, he seemed to be wearing something like a stab-resistant vest, with simple protectors fixed to his elbows and knees. He looked rough, but there was no waste in his movements. His body understood the weight of his equipment and was used to it.
Covering his face was an angular mask reminiscent of a welding face shield. Fine crack-like patterns ran across its surface, making it look as though it had been damaged from the start.
The other was a woman who gave the opposite impression. She was slender and not very tall. Her movements were light, and her steps showed no hesitation. She seemed around twenty, young enough that calling her a student would not have felt strange. She wore a long coat, mostly black, with warped geometric patterns stitched into the lining and hem. When she stood still, they were not especially noticeable, but when she moved, the patterns seemed to shift out of place.
On her face was an asymmetrical, distorted mask. One eye hole was large, the other narrow. Seen head-on, it looked expressionless, but from a different angle, it could seem to be smiling, or twisting in pain. Perhaps she was looking for escape routes or usable items. Her eyes moved quickly around the area, yet remained calm.
"It's showtime!"
The high voice echoed against the factory ceiling.
The woman in the black negligee slowly took one step back. As the hem of the negligee brushed the floor, black shadow seeped outward from beneath her feet. The air sank, and even through the screen I could sense something heavy being dragged into the world.
The first thing to appear was a strange figure resembling a thin man. Its limbs were unnaturally long, unlike those of a human. It wore a wooden mask and a tattered blue cloak, and carried a long, narrow spear. The spearhead was a dull, murky color.
Then another appeared. This one looked like a large woman. She stood a head taller than a human and had a fleshy body. Goat-like horns grew from her head. Small bat wings were attached to her waist, though she showed no sign of lifting off the ground. When she raised one hand, pale light gathered at the tip of her index finger.
Two sinister beings. I decided to call them demons. I did not know whether that was the correct name. It simply felt like the only word that fit.
After summoning them, the woman in the black negligee stepped several paces farther back and stopped moving. She had clearly yielded the fighting position.
The angular-masked man moved. He took a large step forward and kicked off the ground hard. When he thrust both arms out, a pale blue wall of light rose in front of him. It was nearly flat, glowing faintly as it remained fixed to his palms.
The thin demon thrust its spear without hesitation. The tip struck the wall of light, and a dull impact rang through the factory. The force traveled through the wall and bent the man's body backward, but he gritted his teeth and held his ground.
That was when I noticed something strange about the man in the face shield. The arms supporting the pale blue wall were slowly changing color. It was not the reflection of light, but a muddy discoloration spreading from around his wrists.
He continued maintaining the wall, but his movements were clearly slowing.
Behind him, the woman in the distorted mask was moving. She kicked over an upside-down cardboard box and checked its contents. What she picked up was a handgun.
The next moment, the image wavered. Centered on the woman, the factory floor rippled like water, and the positions of the walls shifted slightly. The thin demon and the larger female demon both froze for an instant. What they were seeing no longer matched where they were standing.
A gunshot rang out. With the dry crack of the shot, sparks burst from the larger female demon's shoulder. Two more shots followed, then a third. Bullets fired from a position that should have been blocked by a wall were carving into flesh with deadly accuracy.
The larger female demon fired back with pink bullets of light from her fingertips, but they struck a wall and vanished. Walls that should have existed and walls that should not have existed were out of alignment. The female demon seemed unable to tell the difference.
Even so, the front line had not collapsed. The man in the face shield was down on one knee, still holding the pale blue wall in front of him. The wall took spear strike after spear strike, trembling faintly each time. The arms supporting it were completely discolored and shaking, and his breathing was ragged. Still, he held on.
Another gunshot. This time, the bullet struck deep into the torso of the larger female demon. Her large body staggered backward. At that moment, the man in the face shield let his guard loosen, just for an instant.
He thought they had won. Even through the screen, I could tell.
But it happened immediately after that.
The female demon, still staggering, thrust both arms forward. She drew back her elbows, lowered her shoulders, and aligned both index fingers. It was clearly a different stance from before.
The light gathered at her fingertips had no clear shape. It pulsed, warping the very space around it as it remained there. Then, in the next instant, it was released.
Leaving behind a vague impression, as if dragging the air with it, the light shot forward. Without breaking the wall that should have blocked it, it passed straight through and touched the body of the woman in the distorted mask, who had been holding the gun.
The instant it touched her, something peeled away.
The unnatural feeling surrounding the woman was pulled out like a thin thread. The rippling floor stilled, and the shifted walls returned to their proper places. The scenery of the factory rapidly corrected itself.
At the same time, a pale mass of light was pulled away from the woman's body. It reversed along the path of the fired light and returned to the larger female demon.
The larger female demon opened her mouth and swallowed the returning light whole.
The next instant, the demon's body gave a powerful pulse. The wounds from the bullets closed, and the lines of her muscles became more pronounced. The small wings at her waist spread into a clearer shape.
The bullet of light she fired immediately afterward was on an entirely different level from the ones before.
The woman in the distorted mask, still on one knee with the gun raised, could not react. The illusory obstacles that had hidden the line of fire were gone. The light struck her directly, hurling her body backward. She slammed into the floor and stopped moving.
The moment he saw that, the strength left the man in the face shield. His discolored arms collapsed, and the pale blue wall fixed in front of him vanished without a sound.
The thin demon swung its spear one last time. The man's body fell to the floor and stopped moving.
There were no moving figures left inside the factory.
Only the woman in the black negligee remained standing at the center. I could not see the expression hidden behind the cloth covering her face. But her presence alone remained clearly on the screen.
* * *
The screen went dark. The factory footage ended there, and nothing remained on the monitor. Only a faint afterimage and a silence that seemed to cling to the inside of my ears were left behind.
"So, that's how it is."
A lighthearted voice cut in from behind me.
"You should remember that footage well. Getting to know the abilities of the opponent you're about to fight in advance is a very generous service, you know."
The Cat Fairy was watching me, swaying its tails. Its mouth was smiling, but its eyes seemed determined not to miss a single reaction from me.
"That's the Ability Masquerade. A little underground spectacle our queen started on a whim one day." It made a small shrugging gesture. "We gather ability users like you and have them kill each other. The one who survives wins. If you lose... well, you saw the footage."
When it finished speaking, the Cat Fairy pointed its staff at me. Its eyes no longer held the joking look from before.
"So, what will you do? Will you participate?"
It continued without waiting for an answer.
"If you win, I promise we can give you an item you'll surely need. For an ability user like you, I think it's not a bad deal."
The monitor lit up again. This time, a single face appeared on it.
It was a boy with spiky red hair. He looked about high school age, with a slightly tense expression.
"We intend to pair you with this boy. And then... you'll fight the woman you just saw."
The explanation was matter-of-fact, yet somehow theatrical. It sounded as though the Cat Fairy were simply assigning roles.
I looked once more at the darkened screen. The scene that had been shown moments earlier, the sight of people falling and lives disappearing, remained in my mind.
But I was not strongly shaken.
Even if I participated, I would not die. I knew my ability was that kind of power.
What bothered me more was the red-haired boy on the monitor.
He might die. In a place like that, without someone to protect him, it could happen easily.
And there was one more thing.
I remembered the woman in the black negligee from the footage. She stood one step back and made others fight for her. She kept her own hands clean and simply watched the result. That distance, that way of existing, irritated me.
If I could not stop a woman like that, how could I stop anyone?
The outline of a white hockey mask crossed my mind.
What if I failed to stop someone again? I did not want that anymore.
"...I'll participate."
When I said that, the Cat Fairy narrowed its eyes in satisfaction.
"Good. That's what I wanted to hear."
It gave a light clap.
"Then let's begin preparing. For you and that boy."
---------------to Page Top---------------
The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 8
When I entered the waiting room, silence greeted me.
The walls were an off-white shade of gray, and thin seams ran across the metal floor panels. The ceiling lights provided only the bare minimum of illumination.
A metal table stood in the center of the room. Resting on it were two strange masks. One was a fox mask that looked like something sold at a festival stall. The other was a simple white mask. The air was clean, yet strangely unsettling. The only thing that was clear was that this was the place where the battle would begin.
A boy in a school uniform stood by the wall.
His distinctive spiky red hair matched the photograph I had been shown. Seeing him in person, he looked more muscular than I had expected, as though he trained regularly.
His eyes had been closed, perhaps in meditation, but he opened them as soon as he sensed my presence.
"Oh, you're here. So you're the partner I've got today."
His voice was friendly.
"Not exactly the nicest place to meet someone, but... nice to meet you."
His tone was casual, but his eyes never stopped moving. It didn't seem like he was free of nerves. After briefly looking me over, he lowered his voice.
"After seeing that footage, there's no way I can let my guard down. So, you've got some kind of ability too, right? Let's compare what we can do before we head out."
Despite his joking manner, he had clearly thought things through. I had no objection.
"I can heal."
"Heal? Huh. Like a healer in a game?"
He used a term I didn't recognize, sounding half-playful.
"Yes. Even if someone loses an arm or a leg, I can heal them."
"So..."
I stepped closer to him and looked straight into his eyes. He was about half a head taller than I was.
"You don't need to fight on the front line. Leave that to me. You stay in the back."
I said it without hesitation.
If I were the one taking the attacks, I could recover immediately. That meant it was my job to protect him.
The boy recoiled slightly.
"Whoa, whoa. A healer fighting on the front line? That's backwards. No, I'll be the one up front."
He was making this more complicated than it needed to be. This was clearly the strategy with the best chance of success.
"...Then what can you do?"
That much really did need to be confirmed. Still, I doubted he possessed an ability better suited to survival than mine.
"I create weapons."
For some reason, he frowned slightly as he answered. It felt as though he had mixed feelings about his own ability.
"And I don't just mean one kind. I can make swords, shields, knives... even guns."
"As long as I think of it as a weapon, I can probably create it."
It sounded far more versatile than I had expected. If I protected him properly, I thought we could win.
"Then it really does make more sense for me to take the front. You create swords and shields for me, and I'll fight with them. You stay behind me and attack with guns."
Yes. That was the best plan.
"Come on. That's exactly what happened in the footage, isn't it? You saw it too, right? The guy with the face shield and the woman with the twisted mask."
"I can do a lot more than that. Besides, I've got plenty of experience. And what kind of hero lets a girl protect him the whole time?"
Hero?
"...What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm a hero. Someone who has to stop the people taking part in this. And I'm gonna smash this stupid event to pieces!"
The boy spoke with surprising passion.
He seemed trapped in some troublesome fantasy.
"Just use me as your shield and stay behind me!"
"No way! I'll fight up front, and you heal me whenever I get hurt!"
At that moment, the door to the waiting room opened.
Beyond it stretched a long, rugged metal corridor that looked like part of the factory. Pale blue lights shone down from the ceiling, while a faint stream of cold, pale green mist drifted through it.
"...Time."
The boy picked up the fox mask from the table and headed for the doorway.
I reached for the white mask that had been left behind.
* * *
"Alright, everyone in front of the screen! Thanks for waiting!"
When I looked up, the factory ceiling stretched high overhead. Floating near it was the same white platform I had seen in the footage. From atop it came the voice of the woman who resembled a showgirl.
It was the same high, clear voice I had heard before, with its strangely uneven intonation. Her gaudy outfit and ornate mask were exactly as I remembered.
"Tonight's challengers are this pair!"
She pointed dramatically toward us.
"On one side, a girl whose thoughts are impossible to read! On the other, a super-motivated young hero!"
She laughed.
"Now then! Standing before you is the monster that ends everything without touching you or even coming close... the Demon Lord of Observation! Do you two have the guts to challenge tonight's star?!"
The boy clicked his tongue.
"...She's already getting on my nerves."
Without taking my eyes off the front, I lightly tugged on his sleeve.
"As soon as the signal is given, create a sword and a shield. Then fall back. There's no reason for you to fight on the front line."
The boy looked at me.
"Wait, that's—"
"We're out of time."
I spoke more firmly.
"I'll fight. You support me with your gun."
For a brief moment he hesitated, as if about to argue again. In the end, he only shrugged.
"...Fine. You're seriously reckless, you know that?"
There was no time to work out every detail, but at least we had settled on a basic plan.
"It's showtime!!"
The lights went out all at once. The next instant, the entire factory was flooded with brilliant white light.
The woman in the black negligee took a single step backward.
Just before the shadows at her feet began to spread, I felt a surge of power erupt from the boy's hands. Space twisted for an instant, and a small but solid round shield appeared.
Good. He listened—
The next moment...
Bang!
A deafening gunshot echoed through the factory.
Blood sprayed from one of the woman in the black negligee's legs, and she dropped to one knee.
When I looked over, a handgun was already in the boy's hand.
Another dry gunshot rang out.
But the woman reacted almost instinctively, rolling sideways. The bullet grazed past her and struck the floor, scattering sparks.
The shadow trailing behind her spread across the ground like a dark stain. It thickened, took shape...
Two demons crawled out of it.
The thin demon and the large female demon.
They were exactly the same as the ones from the footage.
The woman in the black negligee immediately slipped behind cover and vanished from sight.
"Damn it... I missed the kill!"
The thin demon lowered its spear into position, while the larger female demon slowly gathered light at the tip of her finger.
Their formation was perfect for pinning us down.
The boy started to step forward, but I moved ahead of him first. I almost protested his impulsive decision, but his judgment was not a bad one. There was no need to waste words. Instead, I fixed him with a determined look.
"They're coming. The sword."
I said it firmly.
After a brief hesitation, the boy clicked his tongue and focused his power into both hands. Space warped once more, and a plain, slender sword appeared.
"Stay back."
That was all I said before taking the sword.
Although slender, it felt reassuringly heavy in my hand. It was a far more solid weapon than I had imagined.
Without hesitation, the thin demon charged. Its spear thrust straight toward me. I raised the shield and met it head-on.
A dull impact rattled through my arm.
Even though the strike had hit the shield, I could still feel the spearhead's unpleasant presence brushing across my skin.
I can't let it touch me.
The realization came instantly.
I stepped half a pace forward and deflected the spear aside. Before the demon could thrust again, I swung my sword.
Steel scraped against wood. The blade glanced off the shaft of the spear, throwing the demon slightly off balance.
The thin demon seemed to click its tongue before retreating a short distance. It was more cautious than I had expected. This was not an opponent that would charge recklessly.
At that moment, another gunshot echoed behind me.
The boy's bullet grazed the demon's shoulder, scattering dark crimson blood.
It was not a fatal wound, but it was more than enough to keep the demon in check.
After briefly confirming the boy's position from the corner of my eye, I stepped forward again.
This time, the larger female demon moved.
The light gathered at her fingertip burst forward toward me like a bullet. Gritting my teeth, I planted my feet and caught it with the shield, deflecting it aside.
Another shot followed immediately.
I instinctively brought the shield back to block it, but the larger female demon was not the only threat.
The thin demon's spear slid along the rim of the shield, its tip grazing my forearm.
Only a scratch. Hardly enough to call it a wound. Even so, an unpleasant sensation spread through me. Cold. Sticky. Something clinging to my flesh.
Poison.
I knew immediately. But it was not fatal.
I stepped back and steadied my breathing.
Something inside my body began to rewind. Pale green light spread across me as the heat faded. The heaviness vanished. Whatever had entered my body was forced back out beneath my skin.
When I moved my arm again, almost all of the discomfort was gone.
...No problem.
My regeneration outpaced the poison. A scratch like that wouldn't affect the fight.
With that conclusion, I stepped forward once more.
The thin demon backed away.
The larger female demon began gathering light at her fingertip again, but the boy's gunshot slipped through the gap and grazed her shoulder, interrupting the attack.
We can do this.
At this level, we can overpower them.
The battle was unfolding at our pace.
A quick glance to the side showed the boy holding something like a riot shield while exchanging fire with the larger female demon without giving up his position. Her wounds were steadily increasing, and I could even make out the pain twisting her expression.
Suddenly, the female demon stopped moving.
The rhythm of the exchange broke.
She thrust both arms forward, drew back her elbows, twisted her body slightly, and pressed both index fingers together.
Light gathered between them, warping the space around it.
"Here it comes! The same attack!"
I immediately leaped to the side, and the boy retreated at the same time. The unstable light left the demon's fingers, cut through empty air, and disappeared into the mist.
"It missed. Too bad."
There was confidence in the boy's voice. The footage we had been shown beforehand was paying off. That was what I thought.
Then came the impact.
The sound followed a moment later. It was neither an explosion nor a blast. Before I could even process what had happened, the feeling in my right arm vanished. The weight of the sword disappeared from my hand, and a dull thud reached my ears a heartbeat later.
My arm.
Everything below the elbow had been blown clean off. Blood gushed from the severed limb, staining the mist red. There was no pain, only an overwhelming sense that something was terribly wrong.
Instinctively, I stepped back. At that very moment, something inside my body rewound with tremendous force. Pale green light burst outward as flesh and bone regenerated with an audible crack. Within seconds, my arm had returned.
It healed. I had known it would. Even so, my breath caught.
That attack... My defense, my dodge, my judgment... None of them had been fast enough.
I raised my eyes.
The gigantic figure stood before me.
Nearly twice the height of a human, its body was covered in light brown fur. Its shoulders and chest were like solid rock. A white cloak fluttered behind it. Heavy metal gauntlets encased both forearms, each extending into two long, curved blades.
Were those claws? They looked vicious.
A werewolf. There was no other word for it.
Within the beast's crimson eyes lay intelligence and murderous intent fixed squarely upon us.
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 9 (Final)
The floor rumbled softly each time the werewolf took a step.
Pale green mist was swept aside by its feet, leaving the path of its enormous body unnaturally clear. The thin demon and the female demon had instinctively fallen back behind it. No one had ordered them to. They simply understood which creature posed the greatest threat on the battlefield.
I picked up my sword with my restored arm and raised my shield once more. My arm moved. I could still swing my sword. My regeneration was still keeping up. But as I steadied my breathing, I noticed a faint heaviness lingering deep within my chest. Every time I healed, it felt as though something inside me was being worn away.
The werewolf let out a low growl.
The next instant, my vision blurred.
It charged.
The impact was like being struck by raw mass itself.
I caught it with my shield, but I couldn't stop it completely. I was hurled backward, crashing onto the floor. Flesh and bone immediately rewound and regenerated.
It healed.
But it took me just a little longer than before to get back on my feet.
"You're pushing too far forward!"
The boy's voice came from behind me. Frowning, I instinctively took a step back. I had been about to argue that my distance had been fine—but at that very moment, the werewolf's metal claws swept through the exact spot where I had been standing.
Half a heartbeat.
That tiny difference had been the line between survival and death.
...I see.
Without another word, I retreated another half step. The werewolf's lunge sliced through empty air, and at the same instant, gunfire rang out behind me. The boy's bullet grazed its shoulder, drawing its attention away for a split second. I seized the opening, rushed in, and swung my sword. The blade only carved a shallow wound across its abdomen, but it struck true.
Light burst behind the werewolf.
The warped projectile fired by the female demon.
"Right!"
The boy's warning came instantly.
I twisted my body on instinct. The distorted light skimmed past the rim of my shield without striking me.
His judgment was fast.
The battle continued.
I blocked the thin demon's spear, redirected it, and counterattacked. My timing slipped ever so slightly. The spearhead slid past the inside edge of my shield and tore deep into my abdomen.
Even so, my regeneration caught up.
Each time it did, I could feel something inside me being consumed. I could still fight... but not forever. That truth was becoming impossible to ignore.
Then the werewolf seemed to lose interest in me. After a brief glance, it turned away and, with a powerful step, launched its enormous body toward the boy.
"Get out of the way!"
The words escaped me before I could think.
But the boy didn't run. Instead, he planted his feet. The shield in his hands changed shape as countless sharp spikes erupted from its once smooth surface.
The werewolf's metal claws slammed into it head-on. The crash of impact was joined by another sound—a dull, wet sound of flesh being pierced. The shield's spikes had driven deep into the werewolf's forearms. The attack that should have crushed him instead locked them together, halting the werewolf's advance for a split second.
So that's a shield designed to stop an enemy.
I lunged into that brief opening. My blade slashed across the werewolf's shoulder. I felt it bite, and blood sprayed into the air.
But the werewolf did not stop. It tore its arm free along with the embedded spikes, sending the boy's shield flying.
The next instant, a dull impact struck my abdomen.
My vision lurched as the floor rushed toward me. Only half a heartbeat later did I realize I had been launched backward by a kick. Something deep inside me felt as though it had been torn away.
It healed, but my body felt heavy. The sensation that normally vanished in an instant refused to fade completely.
As I dropped to one knee, the werewolf took another step toward me. The boy moved in front of me, taking the place where I should have been standing. There was no time to object. There was no hesitation in his movements. At some point he had changed his weapon into a katana. Holding it with both hands, he charged straight into the werewolf's reach while I could only watch from where I sat on the floor.
Then it happened.
A cold sensation pierced through me from behind. Before I could understand what had happened, the impact reached deep into my chest. My breath caught, my vision flashed white, and a blood-soaked spearhead protruded from my abdomen.
Only then did I realize what had happened. It was the thin demon's spear. Somehow it had circled behind me and struck with perfect precision.
It should have been fatal.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been.
But I did not fall.
I refused to let the spear be pulled free. Gripping its bloodstained tip with my left hand, I held it in place. The thin demon froze at point-blank range behind me, caught off guard by resistance it had never expected.
That single moment was enough.
With the spear still lodged inside me, I twisted my body by force. My spine groaned, something tore deep inside me, yet my arm still moved. Gripping my sword close to the blade, I drove it straight into the demon's throat.
The blade sank in without resistance. A short gasp escaped it, the strength drained from its body, and the spear slipped from its hands before clattering onto the floor.
I dropped to my knees.
It would heal. I knew that.
But it didn't.
Something inside me had become hollow. The bleeding stopped, and the wound closed, yet whatever had been lost never returned. Even drawing a breath felt heavy, and my vision swayed.
I could still move.
But I wouldn't last much longer.
Even so, I raised my head. The werewolf and the boy were still trading blows. Sparks flew as the katana was deflected. The werewolf's wounds were steadily increasing, yet it still dominated the fight. Even so, the boy refused to retreat.
Then the air behind him distorted.
The large female demon brought both arms together and pointed her fingers forward. The blurred sphere of light slowly condensed at her fingertips, aimed directly at the boy.
I couldn't let that happen.
Before I could think, my body moved. I hurled my sword toward the female demon, spinning it as much as I could.
Even so, I raised my head. The werewolf and the boy were still trading blows. Sparks flew as the katana was knocked aside. The werewolf was steadily accumulating wounds, yet it still dominated the fight. Even so, the boy refused to retreat.
Then the air behind him distorted.
The large female demon brought both arms together and pointed her fingers straight ahead. The blurred sphere of light slowly condensed at her fingertips, aimed directly at the boy.
I couldn't let that happen.
Before I could think, my body moved. I hurled my sword toward the female demon, putting as much spin on it as I could.
The blade grazed her arm. At that very instant, the orb of light was released. Its aim thrown off, it streaked through the air, dragging a distortion behind it before brushing across the werewolf's back.
There was no impact. No explosion.
Even so, the werewolf visibly changed. The tension left its muscles. Beneath the white cloak, the color of its fur seemed to dull. It let out a low growl—the first sound of pain it had made since the battle began.
Something was being drained from it.
By the time I realized that, it was already too late.
The werewolf staggered, its body tilting ever so slightly. The boy didn't miss that brief opening. He stepped in deeper than ever before, kicked off the floor, and leapt upward. His katana swept up in a rising arc, pausing for the briefest instant as it touched the werewolf's neck—
Then its head fell.
The massive body collapsed forward, shaking the floor as it crashed down. The sound followed a heartbeat later. I could only stare blankly at the scene.
A distorted sphere of light rose from the werewolf's corpse and drifted toward the large female demon. She inhaled as if taking a breath and swallowed it whole.
Then her hair began to change.
The greenish-black strands slowly lost their color as a pale purplish pink seeped through from within. It wasn't as though it had been dyed. It looked as if the new color were welling up from inside.
The air itself grew heavy.
The moment our eyes met, a chill ran through my chest.
This wasn't the same demon anymore.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the boy glance at me before immediately turning back toward her. He intended to fight.
The atmosphere had changed completely.
The large female demon—or rather, whatever she had become—was no longer the same being. Merely standing there caused the mist to recoil from her feet. An invisible presence seeped from her entire body, and that presence alone gave the mist a suffocating weight that clung to the skin.
The boy raised his katana once more and stepped forward.
The distance vanished in an instant.
She was even faster than the werewolf.
His blade came down, but the demon didn't dodge. She simply laid her palm against the flat of the katana. She neither pushed nor deflected it. She merely altered its angle, and that alone sent the blade crashing harmlessly into the floor.
Her fingertips flicked, scattering tiny bursts of light in rapid succession. There was no avoiding them. The boy was thrown backward and rolled across the floor. He tried to rise, but he wasn't fast enough.
The demon lowered her body ever so slightly.
By the time I realized she was about to lunge, it was already too late.
Her long leg snapped forward like a whip, the sharpened tip of her foot driving straight toward the boy's chest.
The impact crushed the air itself.
The boy's body flew through the air and crashed into me, sending us both sprawling across the floor.
He was close enough that I could hear every shallow breath. The smell of blood filled the air. His chest had been torn wide open, exposing bone beneath the flesh.
He was beyond saving.
I knew it. I couldn't heal anyone anymore.
Even so, my hand reached toward him.
The instant I touched him, something felt wrong. It wasn't the familiar sensation. The current that should have rewound his injuries simply wasn't there. There was nothing left.
And yet something flowed into me instead.
Warmth. A heartbeat. The structure of a living body.
None of it belonged to me.
Yet I couldn't reject it.
My vision flashed white. The boy drew in a sharp breath as the wound across his chest visibly closed. The bleeding stopped, and flesh knit itself back together with impossible speed.
"...?"
He exhaled softly and rose to his feet. He glanced at me for only a moment before turning back toward the demon.
The demon clicked her tongue as the boy charged again, this time without a trace of hesitation.
Blows crossed the instant he stepped in. The way he dodged was different. The way he took the attacks was different.
He was no longer afraid of being wounded.
No...
He fought as though injury no longer mattered.
Steel flashed. Light burst. Yet he never stopped advancing.
I remained seated on the floor, silently watching.
Inside my chest, everything was quiet. There was nothing left. Even so, strangely enough, I felt no panic.
...It's all right.
That boy...
The female demon collapsed.
The sound reached me from far away.
Still sitting where I was, I let out a slow breath. My body felt heavy, and the feeling had already begun to fade from my fingertips.
My role was over.
Just as that thought crossed my mind, a single dry gunshot echoed through the factory.
At the edge of my vision, the hem of the black negligee fluttered a heartbeat later. The floor rushed up toward me.
The last thing I saw was the boy standing there, frozen.
This is enough.
My father's face drifted through my mind.
The Unyielding Girl
The End
The End
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The Unyielding Girl - Chapter 9 (Digest)
The battle was nearing its end.
With every wound I healed, I could feel something inside me being worn away. I could still move. I could still fight. But I was finally beginning to understand that my power was not limitless.
The thin demon caught me off guard with a surprise attack, leaving me with what should have been a fatal wound. I struck back, killed it, and healed myself. My injuries disappeared, but inside, I was empty.
Unable to stand, I remained seated on the floor and watched the boy continue fighting. Before long, the female demon absorbed the power stolen from the werewolf and transformed into something even more terrifying. Then a devastating kick sent the boy's body flying toward me.
His chest had been torn open so deeply that bone was visible.
I reached out to heal him, even though I knew there was nothing left inside me.
And yet, the boy stood up. The gaping wound across his chest visibly closed. The bleeding stopped, and flesh knit itself back together with impossible speed.
I watched blankly as he charged back toward the demon.
...This is enough.
The moment the demon collapsed, a single gunshot echoed through the factory, and my vision began to fade.
My father's face drifted through my mind.
—Read the full version in the game.
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Most Memorable Story
Total Votes 36
Ai
10
Shin
7
Maya
7
Taka
4
Saki
4
Kai
3
Ritsu
1
Ryu
0
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This page is updated irregularly.
Unauthorized reproduction or redistribution of this work’s text or images is prohibited.
Author: Akiyoshi Hanaoka
© Musurunsoft – PSI Masquerade DW Project
Author: Akiyoshi Hanaoka
© Musurunsoft – PSI Masquerade DW Project
The English version uses AI-generated translation.