"Wild Duck Country"

“Hahahahaha…”

The duck, which was ochre from head to tail, froze. It knew who was making the laugh, but it didn't want to believe it at all.

He was still in the sky the previous second, but the change came unexpectedly. It was like a TV series that deleted a crucial scene, leaving the audience confused by the hidden plot. Now he and Alice, who had become the poster girl of a roast duck restaurant for some reason, looked at each other in bewilderment.

The flat ground that was once packed with wild ducks has been replaced by a very old-fashioned shop, and the ducks have been stripped of their feathers, revealing their fair, bumpy skin, and are placed haphazardly on a greasy chopping board. Their slender necks hang down, and some of them were not properly processed, and their blood mixed with water drips down with a light pink color, reflecting the shimmering light in the air.

A greasy, dark flag drooped from the top of the shop shelf. The wind could not move it, and it swayed as stiffly as a board, without the softness of silk fabric at all.

The shop sign opposite it showed a roasted duck, with its mouth wide open, grinning. The junction between the duck's beak and cheeks was slightly curved upwards, with drool dripping down the side.

But the duck's mouth was empty; its tongue was gone.

Nakahara Chuuya instinctively realized that something was wrong, but before he could do anything, he heard the arrogant voice of Mackerel, which made people want to beat him up.

Damn, it's a bit creepy in this atmosphere.

“Chuuya, is this color specially dyed? It’s incredible. This is the color that a slug would get if it was hung on the doorway and exposed to the sun for three days and three nights.”

Dazai closed his manuscript and looked up to see Nakahara Chuuya looking up at the roast duck on the billboard. His silly look made him feel relaxed. He did not try to hide his laughter and did not seem to pay any attention to the unreasonable changes in the surrounding environment.

"How much hair dye did you use? I didn't expect you to be this kind of person, Chuuya—"

"No—"

Dazai Osamu dragged out his words and showed an extremely evil smile, "I didn't expect you to be such a duck."

He walked up slowly, and with his height advantage, he looked down at the ugly Nakahara Chuuya on the ground, took out a camera from his pocket, and asked curiously, "Has Chuuya always been my dog? Why did you become a duck without permission?"

His face was innocent and serious, and his tone was serious, as if he was really curious about the strange fur color of Nakahara Chuuya. If it weren't for the faint smile at the corner of his mouth and the vicious words he said, his expression might still be 30% believable.

Very good. Nakahara Chuuya thought calmly, it was obvious that this mackerel deserved a beating again.

Normally, Nakahara Chuuya would have used physical means to shut him up at this time. But not to mention that there seemed to be something controlling his actions in the dark, just looking at his short legs that were not very long even when stretched out, he really couldn't perform a difficult move like kicking Dazai Osamu away with one kick.

He can only be arrogant in words for a while.

Although he was extremely angry, Nakahara Chuuya calmed down. The arrival of Dazai Osamu might not be a bad thing. As long as he touched it, he could at least get rid of this strange ability.

He would not try to dispel the supernatural illusion that enveloped the entire area unless he had no other choice. Even if the Port Mafia could quickly surround the area, they would inevitably be overwhelmed by the supernatural agents.

The orange duck narrowed its eyes, ready to take action, and happened to meet Dazai Osamu's camera lens.

“Crack—”

The humming sound of machinery broke the silence of the night, and the dazzling light projected by the camera flashed for a moment, clearly outlining the orange outline of Nakahara Chuuya.

"Ah, I feel like I'm thinking about something bad."

Dazai Osamu looked around casually, then withdrew his gaze with a nonchalant look on his face and began to carefully appreciate the photos he had just taken with his camera.

Then he let out a disgusted sound.

"I really accidentally showed off Chuuya's short stature and strange fur color."

You bastard!

Nakahara Chuuya was thinking about his own speed of progress and completely ignored Dazai Osamu's sarcasm. However, he saw Dazai Osamu suddenly restrain his expression and take a step forward.

This step made everyone present pay attention.

[Disqualification from the Human World] is a passive skill, which means that as long as you come into contact with Dazai Osamu, you don't need to consider Dazai Osamu's wishes and can completely block the influence of any other supernatural powers.

"Is Chuuya thinking about how to remove his special ability?"

Dazai fiddled with the camera, looked at Nakahara Chuuya and continued, "It would be nice to take a picture of Chuuya's transformation. If Chuuya begged me a few times, I might agree."

He deliberately used a seductive tone, with a faint smile, and slowly approached the alert orange duck in front of him step by step.

"How about learning to bark like a dog first? Ah, I forgot that Chuuya is a duck now. So let's just quack like a duck..."

Of course, Dazai Osamu's lies cannot be believed. Although he said so, the distance between them at this time can be said to be very close, and Dazai Osamu has even made a gesture of reaching down with his fingers——

"Stop it! You unreasonable foreigner!"

Thunder suddenly rose.

A rough and stern rebuke suddenly sounded like thunder at this moment, shaking the night.

As soon as he heard the voice of stopping, Dazai Osamu immediately withdrew his tentative hand, stepped back several steps, and turned to look forward. The whole movement was smooth, decisive, and did not look forced at all.

It was not until he saw clearly who it was that a hint of surprise appeared on his previously understanding expression.

This is really...

The sacrifice is huge.

A short old woman in a priest's robe grinned with her drooping, dry mouth, and made a hoarse sound like burnt charcoal. She leaned on a cane and hunched over, looking very old, but she walked over briskly.

"How unreasonable! Do you want to offend the gods again?"

The old woman seemed extremely angry. She scolded him word by word with a sharp and long tone. She seemed to have walked a long distance in the blink of an eye.

The wide and solemn robe swung with her steps. Using the bright red robe to decorate a dying old man was like pouring a bowl of chicken blood on dry and cracked land. In this cold and lonely night, it was not funny at all, but rather revealed weirdness and abnormality. And this robe was worn by a young woman not long ago.

There were no birds in the forest, only the ducks on the chopping board flapped their wings slightly, resisting the shout. They were the most disturbing existence of the night, but they were all frightened by the sudden sense of oppression.

At best, it can only emit a long, mournful cry from its belly, like a plastic duck.

At this time, Dazai Osamu also noticed something was wrong.

He looked at the old woman in front of him calmly, and the unreserved disgust in her cloudy eyes made him feel a little amused.

He could tell that the old woman in front of him was the real "Grandma Fujiwara". What was even more interesting was that the old woman acted as if he had taken on a character in a story from her without knowing it.

He doesn't care about the final fate of this character, but as for Chuuya, it seems like he will be put into a pot and cooked like a roast duck.

Dazai Osamu pretended to shed a tear for the tragic role that Nakahara Chuuya would have to play next, ignored the old woman's previous rebuke, and started a conversation with a normal expression.

"This is an offense to the gods. Is this duck also to be offered as a sacrifice to the gods?"

He fully demonstrated a level of sophistication that an ordinary person would not have when faced with this strange situation. He took over the conversation smoothly, and his tone revealed a hint of anticipation for the feast that was to come.

It’s so bad, Nakahara Chuuya, you’re about to end up in the duck god’s stomach.

"But why do they have to dye it orange? Obviously, when they are put into the pot to cook, the hair will be removed. What does this have to do with the gods we are worshipping?"

The old woman didn't say another word. She shifted her gaze to a duck behind Dazai Osamu.

Something she had never seen before, an orange duck.

And Grandma Fujiwara is a duck meat lover.

As Grandma Fujiwara looked over, I shrunk a little further into the store. The cold iron plate pressed against my back, a movement similar to the installation art I had seen in the convenience store before.

A girl in a little dress looked at me quietly and continued to stand there calmly, without any fear. It was amazing! If it was her who mistakenly read my horror online article, I would have been able to avoid being reported.

But nowadays children are so brave, I am a little worried that I might lose my job.

In fact, if I didn't know her, I really didn't dare to stay with her. The first thing I thought about was not how scary it was to have a young girl appear in the middle of the night, but mainly because I was afraid of being backstabbed as an ordinary writer.

I think her name is Alice, I've met her.

Wait, why does she remain human?

"Orange duck..."

I heard the sound of Grandma Fujiwara approaching.

She was also unfamiliar with this.

"By the way, where are the others?"

Dazai Osamu asked.

There were no other people, but if he was willing to treat all ducks as people, there would be quite a lot of them.

And I, I am the extra person.

I thought silently, rubbing my fingers in my coat pocket, but there was nothing inside.

Even the backup manuscript was gone, and I had no idea when I lost it.

There was also a girl in a Western-style dress standing next to him who looked like she wasn't a human. Oops, that was a bit irritating.

My heart started beating violently again.

I have said before that I am just a storyteller. The current situation is that everyone uses this story to read and understand, but I have no idea what it means.

Because the story no longer belonged to me, the too narrow character selection and the limitation of real body on the stage made me jump directly out of the scene. Logically, this supernatural power scene should have disappeared when I was stabbed for the second time, but it was still going on, existing independently of my existence.

It's like it's become a system of its own, and I don't know when it will disappear, and I can no longer use it as a means of attack. So, do the ghost stories I wrote in the past still exist? I don't know, but they are in the past.

Now I just want to run away, but I have to take my duck with me.

This is not the one that is cooked in the pot. Just give this to them as a gift to get rid of harm to the people.

"You are such a bunch of rude foreigners, you have no respect at all, I wish the ducks would eat you."

The old woman, still speaking in that strange voice, uttered a stern, playful threat and turned her head towards Alice.

Her expression became even angrier.

"Those two young ladies over there are really - how long are they going to make such a fuss?"

Alice was stroking a white-feathered duck. This greatly offended the old woman, and her eyes were already full of venom.

Two? Are there two people?

I suddenly remembered the purple faceless ghost-like superpower that stabbed me twice. Superpowers cannot turn into ducks.

She's here too! I thought firmly.

"One hid under the table, and another touched the offering to the gods with his dirty hands! How outrageous!"

Oh!

Suddenly, something knocked on the iron plate behind me, followed by a leaky duck sound, as if threatening.

Then there was a continuous knocking sound.

I:???

Was it me?

Rebellion!