Chapter 39 Sixteen Days of Part-Time Work

The day after I joined the organization called "Rats in the House of the Dead" with Fyodor, I did not see anyone else in the organization besides him and me.

Even though I had said before that the name wasn't very good, and I had mentally prepared myself to guess that there probably weren't many people in this organization, I never expected that I wouldn't see even a single person.

I couldn't help but wonder: "Fyodor, I'm not going to be the first member of your organization, am I?"

Fyodor was sitting in a chair with his legs bent and back hunched, curled up in a ball, wrapped in a black coat, looking from a distance like a rice ball covered in squid ink.

Hearing my question, he looked up at me. The dim light and shadows in the room made his eyes appear even more profound. As our eyes met, Fyodor slowly shook his head: "No."

I was about to nod when he continued, "I was the first one."

I:"……"

I had to correct my previous phrasing: "Besides you and me, are there any other people?"

“Yes,” he said.

"Huh? Where is it?" I looked around curiously.

"In Siberia."

"..." I suddenly realized he had a certain sense of humor.

In that instant, I felt a deeper curiosity about Fyodor.

I initially thought he was a special person, but the more time went on, the more I felt that his specialness became, and it even gave me the creeps at certain unexpected moments.

“Or, would you like to listen to music?” Fyodor asked me.

"Oh? Sure."

"How is Tchaikovsky?"

"Can."

There was a phonograph next to the desk. Fyodor got off his chair, went over, and picked up... the violin hanging on the wall.

"...? Hmm?" I blinked. "Want to play the violin?"

"Um."

“…Fyodor, you’re quite talented.”

He didn't reply further, but simply set up his violin.

In fact, Fyodor was truly multi-talented; he could actually play the violin.

He chose a violin piece called "Melody" and played it quite earnestly.

He closed his eyes, and I looked at him. I could hear most of what he said, but I couldn't understand it completely.

After it was over, Fyodor tilted his head and asked me, "Is there anything else you want to hear?"

I quickly waved my hand and said, "You can choose whatever song you want, don't worry about me."

He stared at me for a few seconds before turning his head away and saying, "Hmm."

Fyodor also enjoys drinking black tea.

We often go out together in the afternoon, choose a coffee shop on the street in Yokohama, he will order a cup of black tea, and I will only choose milk.

However, what seems illogical is that while most escaped prisoners are timid and live like rats, as their organization's name suggests, Fyodor dares to swagger around the streets of Yokohama.

Let me clarify first, don't ask me, I don't count. I'm different from him and them all; I'm a fake escapee with no data record.

For several days in a row, I did nothing with Fyodor. Although he had made grand pronouncements about creating a new world, he hadn't actually done anything yet.

It made me wonder if he said that on purpose when he was at Agency Seven, just to annoy the surveillance personnel so that they would stop monitoring him.

If my slightest suspicion is correct, then Fyodor is truly brilliant.

During that time, I tried to find a moment to go see Dazai Osamu, but I spent almost all my time outside with Fyodor, so I couldn't find a moment to go.

I get along fairly well with Fyodor, but I always have an instinctive wariness of everyone because of my status.

As I was contemplating whether to sneak out in the middle of the night, I pushed open the door and saw the flickering light of a computer screen in the dim light, and a fluffy white hat under the pale light.

I:……

Then the white hat slowly turned around, and Fyodor put his feet off the ground on the chair. We looked at each other in silence, and he asked me, "Aren't you going to sleep? Or..."

"I'm going to the restroom," I explained. "Aren't you asleep?"

"No."

When I first discovered that Fyodor was a night owl, I had to give up the idea of ​​sneaking out in the middle of the night.

Then, in a moment of inspiration, I remembered that the system existed, and so we began our long-awaited brainwave conversation.

[Are you there? System, are you there?]

"[Yes, host.]" The system replied instantly.

I pleaded earnestly: "[System, it's like this. You said you can't even sense my true form, so as compensation, secretly giving me an alternate identity isn't too much to ask, is it?]"

It asked: [Host, are you going to see Dazai Osamu?]

I said, "Of course."

System: [Besides your current identity, you only have two virtual identities: a bartender at Lupin Ginza Bar and a security company employee at Manhasset. Do you need to log in as the former?]

Me: [Yes. Is that okay?]

System: [OK.]

I was overjoyed.

[Wait a minute, let me lock the door first.]

[Host, there's really no need to go through all that trouble.] The system stopped me. [I recently did an update out of boredom, and now I can try running multiple virtual identities simultaneously.]

[What?! Such a good thing?!] I was shocked.

Yes. Would you like to?

[It's absolutely necessary. Could we open them all...? Never mind, let's open two for now. Although it feels like I haven't been to Manhasset for work in ages, that's not important, we'll talk about it later.]

[Yes, host.]

The system ignored me and started its own program parsing.

[Multi-identity mode is now enabled...]

[Synchronizing number 13...]

[Synchronizing, please wait...]

It usually only rambles on like this when sending or receiving pseudonyms.

I sat cross-legged on the stool, waiting quietly, feeling a vague curiosity about this new mode that I had never tried before.

I don't know how many seconds passed before I finally heard its mechanical voice—

[Synchronization complete.]

****

I feel very strange right now.

It's like when you used to only manage one account when playing a game, but now you have to operate two accounts at the same time, which is bound to feel a bit unfamiliar at first.

However, this is still much simpler than playing with two game accounts, and I can get used to it quickly.

My perspective is divided into two parts.

One photo shows him at the base with Fedor, and the other shows him on the streets of Yokohama.

I'm going to Lupin Ginza Bar.

Because you can see Osamu Dazai there.

"Or perhaps you?"

As I stepped into the bar, the waiter on duty today recognized me.

My steps faltered at his call, and I turned to look at him.

I:……

Oh no, I forgot the name. Who is this?

Since I couldn't remember the other person's name, I could only say, "Oh, yes."

He smiled and said, "Speaking of which, it's been a long time since I've seen you."

I explained sheepishly, "I've been quite busy lately with some things."

"Are you here as a guest today?" He gave me a quick look.

"Yes, I made plans with a friend."

Perhaps fearing that he would break the agreement I had made, he stopped talking to me.

Everything in Lupin Bar—from the atmosphere and lighting to the decor—was familiar to me.

I walked to the front desk.

You can see the dim yellow lights shining from afar, and the thin, dark figures illuminated by the warm light.

"It's been a long time, Mr. Ori."

I had just sat down when Dazai Osamu's voice rang in my ears.

There was a cup of something in front of him. He rested his chin on his hand and looked at me sideways. His free right hand was raised and bent like a child doing arithmetic. "Let me count how many days it's been since we last met. One, two, three... Oh, I can't remember. I'm not counting anymore."

"..." I didn't order anything, I just looked at him helplessly. He smiled slightly at the end of his previous sentence, his black curly hair swaying in the breeze, "You seem to be in a good mood today, Mr. Dazai."

"Because I saw you, Ori-kun." He suddenly reached out and pinched my cheek. "But why do you look like this today, Ori-kun?"

He let go very quickly after saying that; Dazai Osamu let go even faster than I could have slapped his wrist.

From the first half of Dazai Osamu's sentence, I could tell that the thing I asked him to do was somewhat in the works, otherwise he wouldn't have said that.

However, I really didn't understand the second half of his question. I'm not some unfamiliar face to him, and isn't it reasonable for Lupin to work part-time as a bartender at a bar?

I retorted, "What's wrong with looking like this? Isn't it perfectly normal?"

However, he immediately replied, "Indeed."

I:"……"

I abruptly changed the subject and asked, "So, Mr. Dazai, is there something I need to ask you...?"

"Ah. It's rare for you to trust me so much, so I certainly won't let you down." He smiled and shook the half-empty wine glass in the air, making a clinking sound. "I've found it, the original body you mentioned."

****

"I found it, the original body you were talking about."

As Dazai Osamu finished speaking, he clearly saw a light gleam in Egawa's eyes that completely overshadowed the dappled light falling into his eyes from above.

How could there be such a fun person as Edakawa?

Dazai Osamu thought.

In some ways, he is similar to the people of the Central Plains.

For example, those eyes; for example, the secrets hidden behind her; and for example, the stubborn gentleness in her personality that makes people disdain her.

However, Edakawa is not as annoying as Nakahara Chuuya yet.

"The answer is actually very simple, or you."

The answer is really simple.

Dazai Osamu raised his right hand, folding the four fingers together and pointing with only his index finger out in a certain direction: "It's right where you should instinctively think of it."

Just half a meter from his fingertip was Zhichuan or Tongkong, and the confusion covering that deep blue area had dissipated.

The place he should have instinctively thought of most—

Tokyo.