Chapter 14: 14 13

Rin's first killer was a teacher in high school three years ago.

When the teacher in charge cursed Rin's father as a murderer during the class, his intention to kill sprouted for the first time since he was born in Rin. Yes - I felt the same way as my father.

I understood that this was an intent to kill, and I understood that what would happen was not strange at all. And doing it.

"Why shouldn't I kill people?

In doing so, Rin looked at his position and made it clear. Everyone in the class who was drawn to the heartless curse of his office was pulling even more dongs. In the eyes of Rin, who looked at himself with cold anger, his tenure was flickering.

Rin decided in his heart that he would never let this guy live. This teacher deserves to die.

From Rin's point of view, that's all he sinned. No matter what the laws and ethics of the world are, they are guilty in Rin. Decline the death penalty. But that's why I don't even want to be a murderer and spend the rest of my life on a stick for a guy like this.

(Even dead and natural shitheads have been defended by a bunch of bullshit laws made on their own since before I was born and by human rights and doings, and killing them would be a crime. That's weirder and crazier than that. this world is more wrong)

Rin, knowing his intention to kill, seriously thought so.

Worried about whether there was any way, he came to the conclusion that he had no choice but to use the help of the back street. Rin, who learned of the existence of the Snow Oka Institute within a lot of research and gained strength, murdered his teacher as a teacher on graduation day. There was no guilt whatsoever and it was filled with a pleasant feeling similar to catharsis.

It was the presence of the father who committed the murder that made a strong impact on Rin's life.

Rin's father was a famous screenwriter, but another screenwriter, who was a friend, stole the story he had written and stocked, and was used for a television show, but was furious to kill the screenwriter.

"I'm really sorry that I made you or your mother feel so narrow-shouldered. But that's all. Nothing bad about what your father did."

My father said that in front of Rin.

"I don't think I've done anything wrong other than that. What my father killed was the lowest piece of junk that deserved to be killed and deserved to die. That's why we're talking about it until we kill him."

When they said that, Rin wanted to believe that his father was right. I couldn't understand it, but I was forced to believe it.

But after getting his hands dirty himself, my father became convinced that he was right. I was relieved and understood my father's feelings.

I didn't believe and suspect that what was wrong was on the side of the murdered shithead and that what was wrong was in this world that would be a sin to be killed and to kill the rightful bastard.

That said, in Rin, it doesn't mean you can kill anyone.

(I simply don't refuse to say whether or not the superiority or inferiority of ability is worth living. I'm not. Something more different...... needs it)

Rin thought the day he was willing to kill his teacher.

Killing people requires special standards. Rin is unwilling to kill those who do not meet that standard.

(Yes, whether it affects my life that I find interesting while I'm alive, and the possibility of doing so again - yeah, this is it. This is the truth)

That was the conclusion of the criteria that emerged in Rin.

Once he had killed a man, he simply assumed that he would only be able to live in a world where those with power could hold the biocidal appropriation, and Rin chose the path of becoming a backstreet dweller, knocking on the gates of the Yukooka Institute, not only for murder, but also to gain the strength to live in the backstreet.

I'd rather live in a world where I'm not normal anyway, think about it that way.

And there was no doubts about the idea once in the next two years.

The night after the raid on the seventh branch of the president pickled in formalin, Rin was drinking brandy in the counter seat at a bar named 'Tasmania Devil', which only residents of the back street could enter and leave.

It is a place where backstreet residents here in Euthanasia City are used to gather information, trade and interact for rapprochement, and since disputes are designated as neutral zones of your jurisdiction, it is a space where backstreet residents can relieve themselves of any vigilance.

"Evening, Rin."

Next to that Rin, a girl in white who looks nothing more than a minor, unlike a liquor store, sits down and calls out.

"You know I'm here a lot."

Rin rarely uses this bar. Because from her, famous for flat ruining requests and repelled by backstreet residents as a doomsday shop lacking in faith, this place is not very cozy.

However, due to the need to gather information, we may have to visit. This is also the case. Though it was a one-off insurance policy, I had come straight to ask a familiar freelance informant to explore the movement of a formalin-pickled president.

"That's understandable. All my mice have GPS receivers embedded in them. Oh, you can't try to remove it. It's set to die when you try to take it out."

Rin feels something hot in her chest combined with nostalgia in her eyes that emit the same mysterious glow of crimson as two years before Rin saw them, and Junko, who talks with a flashing smile that soothes the hearts of the beholder.

"For what?

"Before that, I'm sorry to return it with a question, but come on, how come you didn't pat me up yesterday?

Even if Junko didn't order it, a master dressed in a bear outfit placed a glass with brandy in front of Junko. It has the same brand as Rin's drink.

"I don't want to kill those kids. It's similar to the old me. It blooms more beautifully black if it grows. Maybe you'll be a prettier black than me. I don't like crushing the buds of that possibility."

Rin to be honest with you.

"Don't you have to kill me something else? Stun them or push them to giveaways."

Junko asks as he takes the glass in his hand and shakes it gently.

"I want to kill each other. I want stimulation. I don't like being halfway there like that. But they don't want to kill them, so they don't want to fight themselves."

It is Rin's policy to like to kill each other, but to avoid unwilling murders if possible.

"If you don't pat me properly, I can further modify Rin and give her new abilities."

"Oh, I knew I'd do it"

Laugh at the garlic, Rin looking at Junko. The policy of not killing someone you don't want to kill was also swept away like dust and mustard in front of your desires.

"In addition to having it remodeled, I need another favor from you, okay?

"What?

"I've always wanted to kill that pretty girl with you, that one, can't you?

Junko Yukioka's murder doll - Makoto Aizawa - is rumored to be the strongest mouse ever made by Junko Yukioka. From the time Rin ran out, it was a major name in the back street and I admired it.

"Fine. By the way, how's Mr. Machida?"

Rin unwittingly snorts at Junko, who smiles and agrees lightly, even though he hears it in a note. I wonder how much you believe in that boy's power, or for Junko, he was actually not enough to take.

"I'm fine, and it's always this loud. Well, it's funny that there's another one in my head."

(Shut up because you're always dangerous)

Rin's words prompt Machida's penetration.

"I'm just saying that I've tried a brain transplant at the beginning, as part of my research to copy it as it is, without compromising the paranormal ability of individuals to blossom. Even spirits and memories - I mean, it's not desirable as far as I'm concerned that the soul itself be transplanted just like that."

"I'm not interested, and I don't care."

"That's it. Well, that's why I'll say hello tomorrow. Have fun, Rin."

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As she glanced through the contents of the glass at once, Junko took a seat and waved gently, leaving the store.

(Because of that woman's involvement, I can't help but have a heartbeat. I'm not just a research enthusiastic Mad Scientist. He's also a delightful entertainer of enjoyability. I don't know what you're gonna do.)

"I wonder if Mr. Machida, who has no body, is using my chest to make a scene."

Returning such a light mouth to Machida complaining of anxiety, Rin put his mouth on the glass.

"Just like... be..."

Ten nights whining in my mouth as I walked down the night lane.

"It's gonna be the same as shaking."

He repeated the same words many times, as he had said earlier, and walked ten nights toward his home.

Ten nights stepped into an extraordinary reality by following a shake. The only thing that allowed the ten nights to forgive my heart was shaking. I wanted to be on the same path as shaking, and I want to be equal.

I had a hunch, but the shaking was still in a disadvantaged home environment just like myself. But after shaking had eliminated it, he fell into the back street.

"Just like shaking...... I need to follow Keri like shaking too"

Shake did it. You have to do it. Ten nights I tell myself, but it's not just like this. That's what I've been holding for ten nights.

I've been asking myself when to kill that lowest and worst father. The act of shaking is the trigger for that.

"I had to do it anyway..."

When I saw my home upstairs in the apartment, ten nights glared at the door of my home and groaned.

Reflecting on all the irrational manipulations I have ever received, I scorch my soul in hatred and anger and dye my heart with a single colour of killing intent, as I do not consolidate my resolve to be unharmed.

Ten nights remembered this unparalleled comfort in a heart that consolidated its complete intent to kill. Even a feeling of superiority had arisen, even though many humans would not know that the intention to kill resulting from hatred was something that felt so good.

Step up the stairs slowly so that you can take every step of the way and open the apartment door. There was a figure of my father in the room.

My father was taken aback when he saw his face for ten nights. This was a completely unexpected reaction for ten nights. I thought you were going to yell at me in the shape of anger because I was vacating the house without permission. I've never seen my father's face like this before.

That's not the only unexpected reaction. There were tears in my father's eyes, and his face was ruined.

"Until now... where the hell did you walk away! You stupid son of a bitch!

Crying face with tears and runny nose. Naturally, I've never seen my father's face like this before in my life. I found it foggy during the ten nights as my intentions to kill wandered.

"I don't know if something happened... how worried I thought you were!

(sloppy)

Ten nights pounded in my heart to my father, who hugged himself and cried out whoa.

Can't you kill me with this? I wanted to kill you, but I wanted to be the same as Shake, but I can't do this.

If you're going to cry out worried just because you left the house for a few days, I'd say why it's been so hard from time to time, but I can't tell you. The black emotions that had always been in me disappeared, let alone the feeling that I was being purified, and one word did not come out of my mouth.

(Can't be the same as shaking...)

I whine without putting it in my mouth, surrounded by a pleasant sense of liberation.

It was a moment when the world changed.

I've been saved now. He said he was carrying a black cross that he couldn't let down for the rest of his life.

Then I took a silent dinner with my father for ten nights. It is the same convenience store lunch box as usual, and a silent dinner is as usual, but for some reason it was felt as if it were a different dinner than usual, at ten nights.

"I'll live in the back streets."

After I settled down after dinner, the ten nights squealed in front of my father.

"I usually go to school and get a job, I don't live that kind of life. I'll live an unusual way."

"Say what..."

He was a father who tried to make his voice absurd, but I can remember looking at him full of determination for ten nights.

……

My father grabbed his fists in both hands and nodded, seemingly thinking of something all the time. Of course I've never seen anything like it. Ten nights did not utter a word from myself, but waited for my father's next word.

"Because of me... is it...?

I didn't know how to return the ten nights to my father, who raised his face and asked him with a depressing face.

I can say yes, I can say no. He was dressed to be dragged by the shake, but if his father hadn't been like this, his choices might have changed too.

"There's that too. I've already decided."

To the answer of the ten nights, his father pushed silently, nodded again and seemed to have something in mind, but eventually stood up as if nothing had happened, laying down a futon and falling asleep.

"Father..."

"Is that your revenge on me? Do I have to worry about you every day?"

My father said in a quiet tone as I fell asleep with my back turned at ten nights.

"Stop it. You're kidding. I'm a bad parent, but I can't overlook you falling into a world like that."

His father's voice was quiet, but he sounded angry and moaning.

"I don't know what the situation is, but I won't admit it. If it's my fault, I apologize. If you want me to change it, I'll change it. So stop doing that."

"Why by now! Why are you such a good father now?

Ten nights stood up for the first time exploding emotions in front of his father. And as it was, I didn't see my father's face, I didn't wait for words, and I jumped out of the house.

(I've decided to live with the shakes! In that unusual world. My body has already been modified and is no longer normal. I can't turn back! Are you drunk on yourself? I have that, too. But you have to accept it as a fact and be prepared!

Shortly after a single cry in my heart as I ran through the residential neighborhood in the middle of the night, the ten nights were fuzzy and questionable.

(Shaking sincerely desires to live in the back streets. I can see that. But what about me?

My legs stop for the ten nights I was running.

(Because I don't want to shake away or anything like that, so I even had a modified surgery...)

Too much doubt now. Did you really fall into the back streets of your own volition?

At least I didn't fall in my own desire, and I immediately answered in myself. The answer was a thorn, deeply stabbed in the heart of the ten nights.

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