Prologue

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Dramatis Personae

Iriya Akagami – Rich Girl.

Rei Handa – Head Maid.

Akari Chiga – Eldest of the Maid Triplets.

Hikari Chiga – Second Eldest of the Maid Triplets.

Teruko Chiga – Youngest of the Maid Triplets.

Kanami Ibuki – Painter.

Yayoi Sashirono – Cook.

Maki Himena – Fortune-teller.

Akane Sonoyama – Scholar.

Shinya Sakaki – Attendant.

Muimi Atemiyai – Student.

Akiharu Usami – Student.

Tomoe Emoto – Student.

Mikoko Aoii – Student.

Sasaki Sasa – Police Detective.

Kasuhito Ikaruga – Police Detective.

Yuma Shisei – ZigZag.

Shiogi Hagihara – Strategist.

Tamamo Saijou – Assassin.

Noa Origami – Dean.

Kyouichirou Shadou – Researcher.

Shito Oogaki – Assistant.

Misachi Uze – Secretary.

Hinayoshi Koutari – Researcher.

Furuara Neo – Researcher.

Kokoromi Miyoshi – Researcher.

Kasuga Kasugai – Researcher.

Gaisuke Utsurigi – Malignant Bacteria.

Susu Hinemosu – Double World.

Seigo Gotodoroki – Criminal Night Prowler.

Mutsuki Munefuyu – Permanent 3-D Object.

Hakuraku Nadekiri – Wild Dance.

Hyou Ayanami – Evil Beast.

Kishiki Shikigishi – Town.

Touno Shigai – Corpse.

Yaku Kigamine – Assistant Professor.

Kuchiha Madoka – Experimental Subject.

Izumu Niounomiya – Hitman.

Rizumu Niounomiya – Great Detective.

Miiko Asano – Swordswoman.

Ichihime Yukariki – Girl

Houko Yamaguchi – Girl.

Moeta Ishinagi – Reaper.

Koutoumaru Hayabusa – DJ.

Nanami Nanananami – Witch.

Kouta Ishimaru – Great Thief.

Hitoshiki Zerozaki – Killing Demon.

Akira Kajou – Second.

Konomi Ichirizuka – Space Manipulator.

Sonoki Emoto – Doctor.

Kudan Utage – Aerial Weapon.

Zukin Furuyari – Swordsmith.

Jikoku Tokinomiya – Hypnotist.

Rurero Migishita – Puppetist.

Nureginu Yamaguchi – Assassin.

Misora Miotsukushi – Hitman.

Takami Miotsukushi – Hitman.

Noise – Disturbance.

Raichi Kino – Poison User.

Magokoro Omokage – Orange Seed.

Takashi Saitou – Worst.

Jun Aikawa – Red-Haired.

Tomo Kunagisa – Blue-Haired.

Me (Narrator) – Protagonist.

Prologue

Time heals all wounds.

-Natsume Soseki

Right now, I’m in a graveyard.

A graveyard.

I get the feeling I’ve been here a long time,

and that I will continue to be here from now on.

I don’t know when I got here,

But I suspect that this is my final stop.

As I look around, I’m surrounded by gravestones.

The scenery steals my heart.

Of course, the gravestones are not marked.

They’re just lined up in an orderly fashion.

Suddenly, I realize.

These are…

These are the graves of all the people I’ve killed up until now.

Everyone up until now who died because of me.

Tremble, tremble.

My body wavers.

Tremble, tremble.

The gravestones surrounding me waver.

It must be because of the wind.

A strong wind is blowing.

A strong, strong wind.

The wind is blowing for someone.

The wind blows for someone’s sake.

What a ridiculous delusion.

Wind is wind.

Stones are stones.

Corpses are corpses.

Dead people are ultimately nothing more than dead.

Just like strangers are ultimately nothing more than strangers.

Thinking that, I walk onward.

I walk down the path.

Surrounded by gravestones on both sides—

I amble along the stone pavement.

It’s like a labyrinth.

An impasse.

Just by walking, I’m losing my way.

I walk—and I’m confused.

It’s like it’s leading me somewhere.

As if to say,

The water over there is bitter.

The water over here is sweet.

That, too—

Is another ridiculous delusion.

I repeat myself.

I repeat my ridiculous delusions.

The dead.

Those that died because of my actions.

But, those men definitely—

And those women definitely—

Didn’t want me to feel that their deaths were my fault.

Once I realize that,

I feel like the path suddenly opened up.

With an exact preciseness—the labyrinth’s solution presents itself.

With a punctual strictness—the impasse’s solution presents itself.

Him.

Her.

That kid.

That girl.

That person.

That person.

That person and that person and that person and that person and that person—

There’s no doubt they all lived their life to the fullest.

They didn’t half-ass it.

Then—

Then, I too—

Must live my life to the fullest.

Him.

Her.

That kid.

That girl.

That person.

That person.

That person and that person and that person and that person and that person—

Even if they didn’t wish it,

Even if it wasn’t something they wished,

I need to live according to my own will.

Enough already.

Enough acting like a child.

The pouting, the sulking, the feeling down—

Let’s kick that past me to the curb.

If I don’t—

I can’t even live on.

And then, I arrive at a lone grave.

There’s no path anymore.

There are no more paths anymore.

This is the end of the road.

This is—the end.

The world’s end.

The story’s end.

The definitive end of the story.

There is no inscription on the gravestone.

No letters,

no words,

no name, anywhere.

Who could this grave be for?

Is it for the blue-haired savant?

Is it for the red-haired strongest contractor in the world?

Is it for the orange-haired representative of ultimate existence?

Or could this be—

My own grave?

And then, I wake up.

The morning greets me as usual.

I’m not in a graveyard,

And I’m not surrounded by gravestones.

I breathe a sigh.

I comb my bangs up and wait for my breathing to return to normal.

Then, like always,

I long for someone to be by my side.

Now, then.

This is the final story.

The resolution chapter that ends it all.

The all-encompassing, festive,

no-loose-ends, uprooting radical tale.

Just like usual,

actually, even more than usual,

I’ll tell the story unaffected, and at my own leisure.

Even if there is no longer a world worth telling about,

the story exists all the same.