"Now that I think about it, are main characters really guaranteed to survive?"
Hoshino stared into space, lost in thought.
Eren from Attack on Titan, Tatsumi from Akame Ga Kill!—dead.
Even Agni, the guy from Fire Punch who punched people with fire—technically died too.
And the ones who lived? Half of them ended up worse than dead.
Before he died in his past life, the last thing he saw was a Card decorated with the cover of a manga called Chainsaw Man.
Same author as Fire Punch, apparently even got an anime adaptation.
He hadn't read it himself, but a younger otaku classmate had mentioned it once.
The protagonist was Chainsaw Man, a guy named Denji. Anything the Chainsaw Devil ate was erased from causality itself. But he got screwed over by some manipulative woman.
That was all Hoshino remembered.
"Heh. Getting toyed with by some bad woman? Pathetic."
The dark cedar forest on both sides suddenly opened up, revealing a wide, snow-draped valley.
Hoshino stopped and looked down.
Black frost nets stretched in neat, glimmering lines across the land. The wind that rolled down from the Zao mountain range stirred them like dark waves beneath the snow.
Below him lay a vast cherry orchard—the destination of his trip.
Sagae City was one of the country's biggest cherry producers. There were plenty of farms like this scattered around.
This one, judging by the layout, was no small operation. The permanent population probably exceeded a thousand.
Two security guards at the entrance spotted him and immediately moved to block the path.
"Sir, may we see your ID?"
Hoshino obediently pulled one out and handed it over.
"A student ID? Hirofumi Yoshida?" The short, chubby guard frowned. "This isn't a school, you know. Even if you're a family member of an employee, you need prior authorization before entering."
"You sure about that?" Hoshino asked calmly.
The guard felt an odd pang of guilt under that golden gaze, but his professional instinct forced him to keep up appearances. "Positive."
"I'm the company president's son."
The guard froze, then puffed up indignantly. "Our president's surname is Nagano!"
"He changed it yesterday."
"Who changes their surname at sixty—uh, I mean, yes! That's right, he did! I forgot, how stupid of me! So sorry!"
The chubby guard stepped aside immediately, bowing and scraping as if his life depended on it.
With Kobeni not around, Hoshino found it boring to play tricks alone. He dismissed his power and started walking in.
But the other guard, a tall, gaunt man who hadn't said a word the whole time, suddenly stepped in front of him like a rusted iron beam.
Hoshino didn't stop. The pattern in his golden eyes began to spin as he activated his power.
A sharp collision followed.
The two bumped shoulders.
"Hm?"
Hoshino stepped back and examined the man—a security guard in his fifties.
The man's thin face looked as stiff as plaster, his hooked nose doing nothing to soften the lifelessness between his brows. His eyes were cloudy, like dusty glass, staring right back at Hoshino without a flicker of fear.
After studying him carefully, Hoshino confirmed the man's "flame" looked completely human. Still, he couldn't shake his suspicion.
Could he be a Fiend?
He'd learned from the Blizzard Fiend that Fiends' flames were indistinguishable from humans', and his Authority couldn't control them. Probably because his own power still wasn't strong enough.
Rather than risk acting rashly, he turned to the chubby guard beside him.
That one immediately caught on, tugged at the gaunt guard's sleeve, and whispered something in his ear.
The tall man neither moved nor replied.
"Please wait a moment, sir! I'll fetch my supervisor right away!" The chubby one bowed again and hurried off.
Soon, he returned with a portly man in a suit.
The newcomer took one look at Hoshino, then without a word smacked the tall guard across the head. He grabbed him by the back of the neck, forcing him to bow, and apologized profusely.
"So sorry, sir! I'll take you in personally!"
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" The tall guard sounded broken, spine bent like it had been snapped in two.
"It's fine," Hoshino said, waving a hand.
When the others left, the chubby guard let out a sigh of relief. He shot a disapproving look at his colleague.
"Captain Yoru, seriously. You're hopeless. Can't read the room to save your life. Ten years in the company and you're still just a security captain."
Katachigai Yoru didn't answer. Still hunched over, he kept mumbling "I'm sorry" over and over, eyes fixed on the spot where Hoshino had vanished—as if nailed in place.
At the office door, Hoshino recalled how the supervisor hadn't held back at all when slapping him and sighed inwardly.
Guess he wasn't a Fiend after all. If he were, that guy would be dead by now. Still, workplace pressure in this country really is brutal. No wonder so many people end up killing themselves.
Some claimed Japan's high suicide rate came from the stark contrast between the carefree joy of student life and the crushing misery of the workforce.
But there was no real data to back that up.
Click.
He pushed open the office door.
Inside, the slim company president was listening to the morning weather report. A clear female voice spoke from the radio:
"Numerical models show an unusual divergence. The American GFS model maintains a northwest path toward the east of Taiwan.
The Japanese JMA model, however, shows a weak northeast component, likely influenced by a trough over the Sea of Japan. Probability is only fifteen percent.
Disaster prevention alert: activate Level Two precautions and inspect coastal wind barriers.
Current trajectory still trends away from Japan. No need for public concern."
By the time the report ended, Hoshino had already convinced the president and assigned him his role.
Everything afterward went smoothly.
Under the president's direction, roughly five hundred young employees from several sectors put down their work and began walking toward Okura Village for a team-building trip.
Before they left, Hoshino erased the surveillance records and chose an unmonitored mountain path back to the village.
Once there, the employees were divided among a few onsen inns.
Each room already had a prepared mirror waiting. By tonight, all five hundred would be dead.
At the edge of the barrier, as the door sealed shut, Hoshino wrapped the pale fingertip in silkworm thread and tossed it into the snow beside a cedar tree.
It sank into the soft powder with a faint hiss.
That fingertip, part of the Primal Devil's own body and capable of opening the barrier, undoubtedly contained a fragment of its Authority.
Unfortunately, the Contract explicitly forbade anyone from consuming or lending it.
"Doesn't matter. Once the next loop begins and the Contract resets, I'll come back for it."
Pleased with his foresight, Hoshino smiled and headed back to where he'd buried the Sands of Time.
But the smile froze the moment he arrived.
"What… where is it?!"
He tore through the snow, digging until the whole area was bare—still nothing.
[Sands of Time: Remaining Uses – 2]
"It's still active, which means it's still inside the barrier…"
No matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't figure out who could've stolen it.
He'd circled the area several times before burying it, making absolutely sure there was no one around.
"Forget it. If it's mine, I'll get it back. If not, then tough luck," he muttered, forcing a twisted grin.
When he met the Blizzard Fiend again, its expression immediately changed.
"Your Authority," it demanded.
"Yeah, yeah."
A streak of white curved through the air as the Fiend swung its blade and severed its own left hand.
Unlike during battle, the dismembered limb floated weightlessly, turning into a cluster of white light that drifted to Hoshino.
He swallowed it without hesitation.
The Fiend's eyes widened slightly.
[Blizzard (C): 50%]
[Devil-Hunting Weapon: Sands of Time (7/8)]
"Go make more ice replicas. The ice blocks are ready."
"Got it."
Neither spoke further. They each turned and went their separate ways.
After a while, the Fiend glanced at Naoto Kobayashi walking beside it. "Stay close to me these last few days."
"Why?" Kobayashi asked. "With the Contract binding him, he can't actually do anything, right?"
"That's true," the Fiend admitted. "But… better safe than sorry."
"Alright."
They walked on in silence.
The Blizzard Fiend's frown deepened with every step, until finally it muttered under its breath, almost to itself—
"But why? Why do I still feel so uneasy?"