“Well now… dismemberment, is it? How violent.”
Still, it was nothing less than an outright declaration of murder. Kisaragi Station hadn’t had such a pattern listed in the urban legend book, but there were several train-related legends—it might be one of those.
When Inari stepped out of the station office and turned her gaze toward the platform, a three-car train clattered in with a clunk-clunk.
“Dismemberment, dismemberment—”
The distorted announcement echoed as the train doors opened with a hiss. And from inside spilled countless monkey-like beasts. Each one dressed in uniforms like station staff, their bodies brimming with enough murderous strength to literally tear a person to pieces.
“Ki-ki-ki!”
“Kiiiiiiii!”
Their vicious faces seemed made of pure killing intent, claws sharp enough to rend flesh with ease. The tide of monkeys surged forward like a tsunami of death. But that only mattered if one lacked a way to deal with them in a single blow.
“Sorry, but I’ll be changing your cause of death.”
Foxfire swirled into being around Inari’s palms and body. The floating flames shot forth all at once, piercing the monkeys and killing them instantly. A literal one-hit kill.
And then, from within her clothes, Atsuage poked its head out.
“Beam.”
Its little blast sniped the remaining monkeys, and another wave of foxfire finished off the rest. Exploded to death—that would be the coroner’s note, if there were one. Soon, no more monkeys poured from the train. It sat motionless on the platform, its doors gaping wide.
“Well, well. What a thoroughly nasty disposition.”
Beyond the open doors, she could see a lone figure slumped in a seat. A woman dressed in mage’s gear. She looked like one of the reconnaissance team—but lay collapsed and unmoving. Considering “Yatabe” earlier, there was every chance this too was a fake. Still, she couldn’t ignore it.
Inari stepped up onto the platform and into the train. The instant she did, the woman whipped around, eyesockets brimming with black void, and seized Inari’s leg with terrifying speed.
“Let’s die together, shall we?”
“A monster daring to play at being the real one!”
“Next stop—sliced in half, sliced in half—”
“Haaaaaaah!”
With a fierce cry, Inari’s Kogetsu slashed the creature’s arm and carried through, rending open the train floor. Ignoring the approaching horde of monkeys wielding chainsaws from deeper inside the cars, she struck the closing doors, split them apart, and rolled out onto the platform.
“Kogetsu! Bow form!”
The blade shifted shape. Drawing back its shimmering string, Inari unleashed a barrage of light-arrows. Though weaker than her usual beams, each shot detonated with enough force to obliterate a car in a single blast. The train was reduced to wreckage, leaving only dropped magic stones.
She waited, confirming no second train came barreling in, then exhaled.
“Truly nasty temperaments… Now then, what to do next?”
It was now clear, the enemy’s strategy included using recon-team doppelgängers. Fakes posing as the real, and the real being dismissed as fake. Both possibilities equally loathsome.
“Well, time to scour the place.”
Fortunately, she still had the map. Should she check the hospital next? Or the residential district? Carrying the map from the station office, Inari frowned.
At the very edge of the residential area, a note read: “Check for presence of a gate.”
So—they had suspected, as she did, that if this mirrored the Saitama Dungeon No. 4, then the exit might be hidden there. Not a poor line of thought.
“So the helicopter never left… which explains why no one was inside.”
Yes—sending Maruyama and Takui back early had been the right call. Had they landed on Toshima, two helicopters would now be stranded side by side on the shore.
As far as Inari could tell, there was no safe ground anywhere on this island. This “Kisaragi Town” was an otherworld fabricated by urban-legend monsters—nothing less than a gullet closing around its prey.
Which meant the reconnaissance team was most likely already dead. Most likely. But the slightest chance of survival still had to be checked.
Thus, Inari walked on, into the sunset-painted streets of Kisaragi Town, heading toward the residential district.
Along the way she passed through a shopping street—but every store stood empty. No sign of life. Emerging from it, she reached the rows of houses.
There, curry aroma hung in the air once more. Lights shone warmly in every home, as if people truly lived within.
But of course, they did not.
When Inari tried the door of one house, inside she saw… people. The villagers who had lived in her own home, back before it became a ruin.
“Oh, Inari-chan! What are you doing here?”
“Fools.”
Her foxfire blasted the impossible figures apart, leaving magic stones behind.
So this trap was designed to lure wanderers with nostalgia, pulling them deeper inside.
But against her, it was useless. She had a decisive reason to see through it.
“In that village, I never spoke to anyone. I didn’t even have a name. There is no way they would ever have called me by one, so familiarly.”
For Inari, this snare could never work.
But for others? For those who had come here before… she could feel their odds of survival dropping lower and lower.