Chapter 149: The Scene in Yokohama [*cg·'Sweet Dream']...
"Will Mr. Mushitaro leave the Port Mafia soon?"
Dazai Osamu leaned over the bar, occasionally poking at the ice ball in his glass, and replied slowly, "No more than two days at the latest."
"After all, the Special Ability Division cannot tolerate the Port Mafia continuing to operate without official control and engaging in supernatural activities with impunity."
With Mushitaro Oguri under their control, the criminal records of people with special abilities can be erased at will, and the port mafia's need to obtain special ability business licenses will not be as urgent as before.
"What kind of work will Mr. Mushitaro be responsible for in the Special Ability Department, or will it be the same as in the Port Mafia?" Players expressed curiosity about factions other than the Port Mafia.
Dazai Osamu reluctantly agreed, "The Special Ability Division wouldn't leave the special ability users they received in exchange for their special ability business licenses unused. Even an officially recognized official organization wouldn't be free of filth."
It is highly likely that Mushitaro Oguri's job content will not be much different.
"...But," he paused poking the ice hockey, "being in the Special Ability Special Agents Department, which represents the daytime, is always better than the Port Mafia, which operates entirely in the dark."
Dazai stopped childishly playing with the glass of whiskey in front of him, lowered his eyes and took a sip. He noticed the player looking at him: "Hmm?"
"Do you think it's weird that I would say something like that?" He explained to the player with a superficial smile. "It's actually true, because someone taught him that."
'he? '
The player was a little puzzled by Dazai Osamu's choice of words.
Isn't it 'me'?
"Staying here will only mean that we will continue to be exploited by the bad adults. It is better to go with the flow and send people to the bright side." Dazai Osamu lost focus and fell into his own world as he spoke.
"Does Dazai want to leave the Port Mafia?" the player asked after thinking.
If you were like Chuuya Nakahara, feeling a sense of belonging to the Port Mafia, you wouldn't have that tone.
Dazai Osamu was silent, stroking the cover of the book he had been holding.
"Hey, I've been wanting to ask this for a while now. What is this book...?"
Dazai blinked, his iris-colored eyes gradually brightening, curved into a joyful arc. He held the red-covered book reverently in his hands. "This is the book that can change Dazai's life."
The player said sincerely: "Please let me read it!"
Dazai Osamu generously shared what he had in his hand... "The Complete Suicide Manual"?
Fushimi Kyoji opened the book with a learning attitude.
"……"silence.
After a while, the player said uncertainly, "It's all blank..."
There is no printed text on the pages, it looks like a brand new notebook.
Dazai Osamu was in a good mood and squinted his eyes: "Life is like this~"
Is this person reading a blank notebook with great interest all day long?
"Dazai."
Those kite-colored eyes looked particularly bright in the light, and he tilted his head: "Hmm?"
"Are you kidding me?" the player asked solemnly.
"ah……"
Dazai Osamu widened his eyes slightly, as if his true thoughts had been revealed: "I've been discovered."
Fushimi Kyoki borrowed a pen from the bartender, pondered for a while, wrote quickly on the blank pages, and then returned the suicide manual to Dazai Osamu.
Dazai Osamu threw it aside carelessly, his exposed eye sparkling with excitement, "What would Fushimi like to drink? You can tell me your preference in terms of taste. I've been to Lupin's many times with my friends before, and we're already regular customers!"
"Our restaurant doesn't allow alcohol to be served to customers under the age of twenty," the bartender said calmly, ignoring Dazai Osamu's puffed-up face and continuing, "Strictly speaking, the whiskey this customer requested doesn't comply with regulations either."
Fushimi Kyoji followed the other person's gaze to a gun on the bar, and understood where the whiskey in front of Dazai Osamu came from.
"Don't look at other people." Dazai Osamu childishly patted the bar to attract the players' attention back. He pointed to the seats on both sides and introduced them to her enthusiastically. "At that time - we were sitting here drinking and chatting."
If you're familiar with everything here, you shouldn't be so excited, the player thought.
"Dazai's friend?" How curious. "What kind of person is he?"
Dazai Osamu calmed down and recalled: "A man who used to be a killer, who always said very interesting things and had a dream of becoming a writer."
"It sounds very similar to Mr. Oda's experience." The player said truthfully.
Upon hearing this, Dazai Osamu stared at the player with interest, waiting for her to continue.
The player paused, "Dazai has met Mr. Oda before, at the detective agency."
"Maybe he has become a full-time member of the detective agency now." If the salary of the detective agency was enough to support his material desires, Oda Sakunosuke would give up his previous job as a killer.
Dazai Osamu seemed to recall his impression of Oda Sakunosuke, and smiled, narrowing his eyes and nodding: "I know him."
Gently changing the subject, he practically danced with joy: "Yeah! There's also a clerk wearing glasses who's a complainer."
"Is Dazai's friend Mr. Ango?"
Based on the characteristics described, players can easily identify Ango Sakaguchi from among the people they meet.
In particular, Dazai Osamu's attitude towards Sakaguchi Ango, which deliberately targeted him, is itself a kind of concern.
"...It's different." Dazai Osamu said softly.
The subtle changes in Dazai Osamu's emotions were so obvious that it was hard to ignore them.
The player thought for a moment and said, "Then let's chat too!"
His curved eyes reflected a little light, and he raised his glass as if inviting: "Want a toast?"
"Forget it." Dazai Osamu quickly gave up his proposal and muttered to himself absentmindedly, "If I do this, I'll be worse than a dwarf..."
"Although I don't intend to compete, I'm also unwilling to be…" He thought for a moment, and came up with the right words for the current context, "…outperformed."
"I'm so tired—I really want to quit!" Dazai Osamu's sudden sigh interrupted the player's thoughts as they tried to grasp the meaning of his words. He waved his hands childishly, his words half-heartedly, "Just throw this mess away, don't worry about anything, don't think about anything... Let the world become a mess, and then die with this messed-up world."
Fushimi Kyoji was almost used to this mode of interaction. He was calm and only showed some curiosity: "Are you in a bad mood? Is there anything that makes Dazai feel uncomfortable?"
Dazai Osamu really reflected on what the player said, and then said firmly: "Everything."
"It's a cloudy day with no sun in sight, the smell of earth is everywhere, and the river is icy. Ah, I don't mean to dislike sunny days. I hate everything about them!"
"Is it because it's summer?" the player explained, analyzing the heavy rainfall. "The smell of the earth and the scent of plants that you can't smell normally will emerge after the rain. Isn't it refreshing?"
Dazai Osamu deliberately stuck out his tongue to express his disgust, and the player leaned on the bar with his hands, holding his face: "The smell after the rain reminds me of the spring outing organized by the school."
"If it's summer, the strawberry field isn't the only option. If you're willing to go to the fields, not only will the aroma of celery and cherry tomato roots hit you, but you'll also see colorful crops hanging in bunches."
The player was so engrossed in her conversation that she didn't pay attention to whether Dazai Osamu was still looking at her. "Those big ripe, red and yellow tomatoes, broken in half, with something like granulated sugar inside, crunchy... huh?"
Fushimi Kyoji turned his head and saw Dazai Osamu half-lying on the bar with his hands on his side, his eyes quietly closed, his eyelashes forming bluish shadows under his eyes, and the faint sound of his shallow breathing indicated that he had fallen asleep.
"Are you asleep?"
Dazai Osamu's eyelids didn't twitch at all when the player asked.
The player didn't wake him up and left quietly.
The bartender wanted to remove the wine glass in front of the sleeping guest, but the boy with his eyes closed suddenly opened them.
Dazai Osamu didn't move, but just opened his eyes blankly like a doll. After a moment of inexplicable stalemate, he suddenly jumped up and went to look for the "Complete Suicide Manual" he had thrown away earlier.
He was a little out of breath and tried to find the book eagerly, but he didn't open it right away.
Dazai Osamu held his breath and opened the book.
The handwriting, obviously from a human hand, left unreserved marks on it.
The content is only two short lines.
[1. Death by hanging: Using the body weight to tighten the rope around the neck, compressing the respiratory tract and blood vessels in the neck, causing suffocation
2. Drowning: A large amount of liquid enters the respiratory tract and lungs, affecting gas exchange and causing suffocation.
Dazai Osamu scanned the contents at a glance and did not turn the pages.
It is the method of suicide he mentioned or carried out in front of the players.
Dazai Osamu did not move for a long time, his hand unconsciously stroking the cover of "The Complete Suicide Manual".
He used an elusive tone that was very inconsistent with Dazai Osamu's character, and said with melancholy and helplessness: "How should I treat you..."
[*cg·'Sweet Dream']
The cg is slowly played in front of the players who leave Lupin:?
What appeared on the slide was... Fushimi Kyoji heard her voice.
"Since this is a book that Dazai considers a masterpiece, before finding the death that Dazai seeks, he might as well leave something behind."
The player was sure that he had not said anything like that.
The artistic processing of the game. Player understanding.
Dazai Osamu lay there quietly, the bandage on his eyes scattered, his hands folded on his abdomen, a soft halo fell on him, and his face looked as peaceful as if he were dead.
On his chest was an open book, with no words on it.
"*(Oh, God, if there really were gods in this absurd world...)"
"*(...Let me dream a few more happy moments.)"
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