The result was clear. There were no people in the houses. In every home Inari searched, only monsters lurked. No living humans, no corpses. And… the gate that should have existed, if this mirrored the Saitama Dungeon No. 4, was nowhere to be found.
“Hm… well, I suppose that’s only natural. But given the resemblance, I can understand clinging to the faintest hope.”
Perhaps someone had dared to hope that the reconnaissance team had been transferred to the Saitama Dungeon No. 4 instead. But no—this was not that. If the scouts had investigated, they too would have reached this conclusion quickly.
So then, what would they have done next? Inari spread the map, tracing their possible course of action.
The underground mall? Unlikely. That offered no path to escape. The school was already marked with a cross. The station and residential district had been checked. The shopping street was empty. The hospital… didn’t seem worth it either.
“No way out. No safe haven. Then what they would rely on is…”
Her fingertip slid across the map and stopped at one point.
Kisaragi Shrine.
That was the name written there. Inari doubted any true divine blessing could exist in a shrine nestled within the belly of such a monster. But still—when all else failed, people turned to prayer. “Entrusting it to the gods,” as the saying went. It wasn’t an unreasonable thought.
“…A shrine, is it.”
Who knew what was actually enshrined there? If the form alone mattered, then most likely it was nothing good. Still, it was worth investigating. Having decided, Inari folded the map—though Atsuage popped out from her clothes, snatched it away, and tucked it inside itself. Well, never mind.
When she lifted her gaze, she spotted something further down the road.
A human figure? No. A black humanoid “something” writhed in bizarre motions, twisting and dancing in place.
“Kogetsu, bow form.”
The blade in her hand shifted into a bow.
She recognized this strange thing from the urban legend book—it was “Kune-Kune.”
A curse-type legend said to drive madness into those who watched too long. Similar to the “static-filled TV” found in the Saitama Dungeon No. 4, or in certain houses here. But such curses, of course, had no effect on Inari.
One arrow loosed, and Kune-Kune was blown apart. Inari gave the bow a flick, returning it to a sword.
“Good grief. Their intent to kill is high… but unlike those in Itou.”
Those had a clear purpose—to blend into human society.
Here, however… this place felt more like something that sought to “overwrite” human society altogether. Something irreconcilable.
“A strange matter indeed. Whatever the monster, they usually live among people, exist within humanity. Yet many of these urban legends lack such intent. They are curses incarnate—made to kill.”
Or perhaps it was simply that as human society changed, the way monsters “mingled” changed with it. The legends at Kisaragi Station, and the station itself—they required prey to draw in, an entrance rooted in the ordinary. In that sense, they too existed within humanity. Only their “method of cursing” differed.
Well, it was not for Inari to pass judgment. What mattered now was whether the scouts attacked by these urban-legend monsters still lived.
So, she started walking toward the shrine.
When she passed through the shopping street again, her Awakener Phone began to ring.
“…Hm?”
The caller ID was garbled nonsense. Clearly another anomaly. She had no reason to answer—yet the phone forced itself into connection.
“Hello, I’m Mary. I’m at the entrance to the shopping street.”
“Oh?”
The line cut off. Atsuage darted out of her clothes and scuttled off. She could already guess where. Waiting a little, another call came—again, the phone answered itself.
“Hello, I’m Mary. I’m at the butcher’s—guhh—”
A tremendous crash echoed behind Inari, followed by a shriek: “Gyaaaaah!” More blows rained down, the clatter of a blade hitting the ground, and another heavy strike as if something was sent flying.
“Beam.”
With Atsuage’s curt word, silence fell. Soon, light footsteps returned, and Atsuage appeared before Inari, raising one hand as if to say “job done.”
“Well done, well done.”
It was even carrying the magic stone, though it was obvious it had no intention of handing it over. Climbing back into her clothes, Atsuage nestled in.
Mary, as the legend went, was supposed to be a cute little doll girl. But pitted against a toy golem like Atsuage, she hadn’t stood a chance.
Perhaps, in the end, that was simply how it was.