"Cut it out already! There's a limit to how thick-skinned you can be!"
Facing the three worn-out faces he'd seen far too many times, Subaru stamped his feet on the ground, venting his frustration.
The third encounter, and every single one of them had been a three-on-one situation in a back alley. Having ended in nothing but futility the first and second times, Subaru still had to admire their tenacity in making him their prey.
If the situation weren't what it was, he might have even given them a round of applause, but— "I don't have time to deal with you right now. I'll take you on once things settle down, so move aside."
There was impatience on his end too, but having won a three-on-one fight once before, Subaru had some breathing room. His thinking was that if he bluffed them hard enough, they might show an opening. But— "'Move aside,' he says. What are you gonna do about it?"
"I don't like that attitude. You don't seem to know who's giving orders to who here."
"Getting beaten pathetically three-on-one and still talking big... have some shame. Even dogs howl with a bit more humility."
In his current situation, honestly, Subaru couldn't shake the feeling that he was the underdog too.
In short, this place was nothing more than a meeting spot for losers and beaten soldiers to skulk around.
"That's way too negative! I'm supposed to be the kind of guy who looks on the bright side!"
"He's no good. Totally crazy. Maybe we missed the mark picking him just because he looked unique."
At Subaru's loud muttering, the men exchanged words without hiding their irritation. The one with the machete and the bare-handed one were subtly losing interest in Subaru, but the eyes of the knife man—the greatest threat—remained sharp.
Those eyes seemed to have written off Subaru's worth as a purse, but they wavered with dark emotions far more cruel.
Inwardly, Subaru muttered, "This is bad."
After two fights, Subaru had concluded that the most dangerous of the men was the knife man. Not only in terms of lethality, but in nature, he was the one most likely to snap.
Avoiding even getting close to him—let alone grappling—was probably the best move.
"Fine. I won't resist. Tell me what you want."
Raising both hands to show he meant no harm, Subaru responded to them.
A complete reversal from his tough diplomacy moments ago—this was weak-kneed diplomacy, ready to swallow whatever demands they made.
It was a calculated decision: avoid provoking the knife man and prioritize getting out of here. He'd accepted that some losses were unavoidable and focused simply on escaping.
—Well, if they were looking for revenge, he might end up getting beaten to a pulp, but still.
If the conversation started heading that way, he'd land a punch before getting stabbed and make a break for it. Once he reached the main street, they wouldn't dare do anything flashy.
As Subaru schemed to protect himself, the men's attitude softened.
As if mocking Subaru's cowardice in readily submitting to their demands: "Seriously? If you were just gonna be scared from the start, you should've done that, idiot."
"Son of a bitch. Don't talk big if all you're gonna do is whine like a baby."
"It's fine, isn't it? He's not gonna do anything and he's doing what we say. What a coward."
A few irritating words were thrown his way, but Subaru deflected them with a dry, forced laugh of "Ha ha ha."
Mentally dubbing the incorrigible trio "Ton, Chin, and Kan," and secretly savoring a small sense of satisfaction— "So, what exactly is it that you want from this idiot, pathetic coward?"
"First off, leave everything you've got. That weird kimono and footwear too, all of it. You can keep your underwear on, though! We're not demons, you know!"
Cruel mockery was hurled at the obsequious Subaru.
On one hand, Subaru had the odd thought that the concept of "demons" existed in this world too. On the other hand, something about their words struck him as deeply wrong.
Everything he had on him, his kimono, his footwear—those demands were exactly— "You guys really did hit your heads somewhere I don't know about, didn't you?"
It was exactly the same as what they'd demanded during their first encounter.
They'd hit their heads, or else they were hopeless people who couldn't even remember their own words, or perhaps these were stock lines they'd used so many times they'd forgotten who they'd said them to. Take your pick.
The options got worse the further down the list, but considering how inexplicably they were treating the man who'd beaten them up, the last possibility being the most likely was equally hopeless.
"Between
"Stop blabbering. You got no intention of doing what we say? Or do you not have the brains to do it?"
"Getting told about brains by you guys... that says it all..."
Keeping that last muttering to himself, Subaru at least put on the appearance of going along with it.
While debating whether to negotiate his way out of giving up his clothes and shoes, or to try to deal with the men closing in all at once, he reached into the plastic bag in his hand— "Huh—?"
He furrowed his brow at the biggest sense of wrongness he'd felt since arriving in this other world.
"Why...?"
Murmuring in a groan, Subaru slowly checked the contents of the white plastic bag.
Inside was a tonkotsu soy sauce cup ramen, along with his phone and wallet—which had been too cumbersome to keep in his pocket—and a golden snack that perfectly suited his personal taste.
Yes, the golden snack—corn potage flavored chips.
They were the first thing he'd eaten since being thrown into this world, had served as an effective diplomatic tool in appeasing Old Man
—And yet, those snacks sat inside the convenience store bag, completely full again.
"I ate them. There was only a tiny bit left, I'm sure of it."
The bag should have been down to about a third of its contents.
But the snacks were back to their original amount. There wasn't even a trace of the bag having been opened. By any measure, this was abnormal.
His wounds healing could be explained. There was precedent with
—But even if a super-class healer existed, could they truly restore something that was supposed to be gone?
"That's right, duplication magic..."
He recalled something Old Man Rom had let slip.
Duplication magic—the magic that could duplicate something existing, at least on the outside. If that magic was used, this situation could be reproduced.
"But what about the seal on the bag? Don't tell me you'd call it healing magic that can even fix the adhesive seal."
It didn't seem like a realistic thought.
And in a world where magical civilization had apparently developed at the expense of technological civilization, it didn't seem likely that anyone would understand the concept of resealing a snack bag with adhesive.
His thinking had hit a dead end. But within that deadlock, Subaru had half-concluded that this phenomenon was not healing magic. The reason he couldn't develop the conclusion further was that the other possibility that came to mind was so far outside the realm of common sense that his reason refused to accept it.
"Hey, you—what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Huh?"
Suddenly called out to from right beside him, Subaru let out a stunned voice.
One of the men—the bare-handed third one he'd mentally dubbed "Kan." Subaru furrowed his brow at the fact that the man had somehow gotten right next to him: "What, you crept up on me? Just so you know, I can take off my clothes without your help."
"Nobody's trying to help you! You're the one who stumbled over here!"
Only after being shouted at did Subaru realize he had drifted from deeper in the alley toward the street.
It seemed he had unconsciously moved while drowning in thought. But to the men, his dazed behavior could only have looked like hostile action.
"If you're not gonna do what we say, how about I rough you up a little?"
"Seriously, this is getting annoying. Let's just get it over with here."
Seeing the men about to take impulsive action, Subaru cut short his dive into thought.
What was needed right now, in this moment— "Here, fetch!!"
"What!?"
Raising the plastic bag in his hand, he hurled it deep into the alley.
Tracing an arc through the air, the bag sailed straight into the darkness. Naturally, the men who'd been eyeing it as their prize had their gazes pulled toward it.
Seizing the opening, Subaru squeezed past the men and broke into a full sprint.
As he'd concluded many times, escaping from these men was the top priority. After that, he had to head to the Loot House and find answers to the doubts that had surfaced.
He knew the idea was ridiculous.
That some practitioner of healing magic, a superhuman-level user who had also mastered duplication or restoration magic, had happened upon the carnage at the Loot House, healed Subaru and the others out of pure benevolence, released only Subaru in front of the vegetable shop, and then walked away without ever revealing their identity—hardboiled all the way.
Hearing some outlandish tall tale like that would actually be somewhat more believable.
"Well, even that's a long way from convincing."
At least that version had more internal consistency.
Compared to the baseless, foolish thought that had just crossed his mind, at any rate.
Clinging to two contradictory thoughts, Subaru sprinted through the filthy ground of the back alley.
Once he reached the main street and started running around making noise, they wouldn't be able to chase him. The contents of the bag were a loss, but he'd already removed the important items beforehand, so all that remained inside was the snack bag and some loose change serving as a weight—minor damage, all things considered.
Having reached that conclusion, he took a step—then panicked when he realized that step had gone wildly off-target.
His body swayed, and he stumbled on the foot he'd extended forward. But this time, his legs gave out from the knees down, and he collapsed to the ground.
Falling forward onto his hands, he cursed himself—stumbling at a time like this, are you an idiot? But— "Huh, that's weird..."
As he tried to gather strength to stand, his arms planted on the ground shook violently. He couldn't lift his body no matter how hard he tried. Before that, he'd even dropped what he'd been holding.
"That's why I told you to just do what you're told, dumbass."
A mocking voice came from directly behind him, and Subaru barely managed to tilt his head toward it.
Behind him, standing right at his side, was the second of the three—the man he'd given the most humiliating nickname of "Chin."
Keeping his brutish demeanor, the corner of his mouth twisted as he pointed at Subaru.
Following his finger with his eyes, Subaru understood why he had fallen.
—A knife was embedded in his back, near his waist.
"Gah...gh..."
The moment he became aware of it, unbearable agony shot through him and sealed his throat.
The pain was so pure, so primal, so sharp that it even robbed him of the freedom to writhe.
—He'd been stabbed! Stabbed stabbed stabbed stabbed stabbed stabbed.
Unlike the other two, only Chin, who had the knife, hadn't been distracted by the plastic bag. He alone, at that moment, had found more appeal in hurting Subaru than in the bag's contents.
As he'd suspected, dealing with Chin should have taken priority over Ton and Kan.
This was the price of that negligence. The kind of agony he'd already experienced who knew how many times in the past few hours. But no matter how many times he went through it, he would never get used to it.
"Hey, you stabbed him?"
"Can't be helped. If he'd escaped to the main street, it wouldn't just be a hassle."
"Aw man, this is bad. If his insides are damaged, he might die. ...His kimono's all soaked too."
At the edge of his agony, Subaru found himself complaining—did they have nothing else to think about after stabbing someone?
The pain was so intense that if he didn't divert his thoughts elsewhere, he might lose consciousness. And considering Ton's words, this was the kind of wound where once he blacked out, he might not come back.
He had to act while he still had consciousness.
Having made that decision, he gathered what remained of his strength—enough for one howl. Placing it on his tongue, he was about to roar— "Here comes number two, before you can do anything!"
The second knife was mercilessly driven into the center of his back.
"———Ogh."
The scream he'd been about to release was canceled out by an electric shock-like numbness that ran to the tips of his fingers and toes.
The shock had long since passed beyond the level where he could endure pain or even manage a scream. There were no options left for Subaru.
The wound in his back must have reached his lungs.
Even as he repeated rough, rasping breaths, his lungs wouldn't expand and breathing grew more difficult. The oxygen deprivation took a massive toll on Subaru's body, and his thoughts grew frail enough to snap at any moment.
Sensation left his limbs. He couldn't even tell if he was lying face down or face up.
This time, his eyes shouldn't have been cut, yet his vision was pitch black and he couldn't see a thing.
—What even is this time?
He felt pathetic for clinging to the ridiculous thought he'd already dismissed.
But if he was going to cling to that pathetic thought, he might as well go all in.
—Don't focus on dying. Before you die, get a grip on the world.
His eyes were dead. His limbs were done. All that remained were his nose and ears. Then he'd use both to their absolute limit. Any lingering scent would do. He'd even welcome insults. The smell of mud in the alley. The iron reek of blood welling up. Now, his nose died. Dead. His ears seemed to have only a sliver of function left.
"...got any...valuables..."
"...eard! Guards...coming...!"
"...ge lost! This is bad! ...no joke...!!"
All he could catch were these few snippets of conversation. He caught them, yes, but the brain needed to understand their meaning had already died. It had died, so all he could do was hear. Whether he could remember what he'd heard, he didn't know. What did it even mean to remember? If he remembered, what would he do? What would he do? What would he do—and— Following the lead of his brain, which had died before all else, his other functions shut down one by one until, with a final, fading rasp,
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ When consciousness returned, Subaru was in darkness.
Realizing it was darkness of his own making, he gently pried open his closed lids—only to be met with searing pain from the blinding sunlight. Subaru let out a small groan and shaded his eyes with his hand.
"Hey, mister, want a Linga?"
A familiar voice was addressing him from right in front.
His ears were working. The main street was as noisy as ever, a far cry from the cruel silence of that back alley.
In terms of distance, it was just one street over.
"Can't even make it one street over. How pathetic."
The vegetable shop owner, whose white scar stood out prominently, caught his self-deprecating mutter but realized it wasn't addressed to him, and scowled in irritation.
He looked difficult to approach, but Subaru knew from firsthand experience that he was actually surprisingly helpful. Of course, the owner probably didn't remember that.
Thinking this, Subaru turned back to face the scarred face once more, "How many times have you seen my face now?"
"No 'how many times'—you're a new face, mister. Someone with that getup? I wouldn't forget."
"What's today's date again?"
"The Month of Tammuz, fourteenth day."
"Thanks. —I see, the Month of Tammuz."
Even asking didn't help.
How did they even keep track of dates in this other world? Well, since month and day numbers seemed to work as a concept, some form of solar calendar probably existed.
It was probably common knowledge, but it was the kind of thing he hesitated to ask about—especially to someone like this vegetable shop owner who was still passionately devoted to his business.
The owner had been patiently putting up with the silent Subaru, but even he must have decided he couldn't keep dealing with a customer who took this long to buy a single piece of fruit.
He thrust the Linga sitting in his palm forward, urging yet another decision.
"So, mister, want a Linga?"
It was his best effort at a business smile, turning his fierce face into something resembling a grin.
The white scar twisted with the effort, making what was supposed to be a friendly smile into something that would put off any child. It wasn't something you could laugh at.
Placing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest, Subaru gave his reply: "Sorry, but I'm as broke as they come!"
"Then get the hell out of here—!"
Bathed in a roar so fierce it nearly knocked him backward, Subaru scurried away.
Thinking that he probably shouldn't visit that shop for a while, in more ways than one.