"Wild Duck Country"

The author has something to say: I have finished the plot of "The Nth Day of Not Being able to Teach the Head of the Inner World", and am currently filling this and "So I Was Dragged to Feed the Crocodiles". I will update every other day until the end after finding the rhythm. Thank you very much for your continued waiting and attention. However, the sequel is not about joyful persecution but about quickly pushing the main line. I will give you a result. Those who like the former don't need to read on (I can't be happy now (sad)

The ideas in this part of Duck Country are a bit confusing and I am too lazy to read it. You don’t need to read it again. Just read my summary in two sentences.

Important prerequisites:

"I" wrote a hunting novel "Wild Duck Country" without the intention of becoming a supernatural being. It mainly describes a group of people who participated in the "Divine Duck Banquet" to taste ducks, but their relationship with food went wrong. They started eating people without knowing when, and even turned into ducks and were eaten by people. In the end of the story, a few people escaped from this bizarre "Divine Duck Banquet", but found that the outside world had changed a lot. The relationship between people and ducks changed, and people became food, praising the taste of their own products.

I met Fyodor, who was disguised as a convenience store salesman. The murder case he planned triggered my consciousness and I chose to resist, turning people in some areas of Yokohama into ducks. I became the protagonist of the novel, "Grandma Fujiwara". With the cooperation of Gang. Black and the Detective Agency, it seemed that a duck (Nakahara Chuuya) attacked "me", triggering the mechanism that ended the story, but in fact, the real "Grandma Fujiwara" was released.

Key point: The separation of "I" and the weirdness, and even some forgetting of the content of the story, means that the two are not completely the relationship between the owner of the special ability and the special ability, or the author is dead. (Why? Isn't this very strange? If this is really the case, why does the special ability creation Fujiwara still hate "I"?)

After I left, everyone worked together to kill the strange "Fujiwara". Yokohama seemed to have returned to normal, but there were still remnants, and it was necessary for Edogawa Ranpo, a key figure in the Armed Detective Agency, to step in and put an end to everything. I was still thinking about the fan dolls of "Two Dolls" kept by Dazai Osamu, so I asked Alice, who I met on the way, to wait outside the detective agency. I chose to materialize the "Suicide Note" and became Kyoko, who was taken to the inner world. I entered the detective agency alone and planned to take the doll away. Kyoko's appearance was noticed by Edogawa Ranpo, who invited me to put an end to the remnants and experience this story.

"Suicide Note" (Reader interaction warning!!!) is about A who was frightened when he heard strange noises on the rooftop and dragged Kyoko to find out what happened. Kyoko found that bouncing glass beads and ping-pong balls often appeared around her, as well as the sound of rain. Even the piano she passed by seemed to be played by someone. Kyoko always felt that there was someone behind her, until one day she turned around quietly and saw a pure white body without facial features. From then on, Kyoko disappeared, and a "pure white person" appeared in the inner world. She also felt lonely and jealous (Reader interaction warning!!!) and saw you who are reading this story.

"I", Edogawa Ranpo, and Nakahara Chuuya entered "The Wild Duck Village". After "I" and Edogawa Ranpo evaded the butcher's pursuit, we took the butcher's knife and entered a silver-white metal door, where there were countless roast ducks rotating in the oven.

In the middle of the oven, I saw a dish.

Yes, a dish. On the clean white plate was a crispy roast duck, which looked like it had just been taken out of the oven, with a hazy heat rising from it.

If this plate of roast duck couldn't talk, it would be a favorite among diners. But not only does it talk, it moves.

"I'm sorry."

I squatted down slightly, trying to let the roast duck feel my true heart.

Having said that, I've never been too hard on myself. I don't know why the Duck Country still exists, and even the emergence of superpowers seems inexplicable now. But don't take the decisions made by superpowers on yourself. Otherwise, I always feel that something big will happen.

But everyone in this world has their own unique abilities, maybe it’s due to geographical reasons?

"What happened to you? Do you remember the original story?"

I asked sincerely.

"After I turned into a duck at the party, I've been in this state ever since I opened my eyes, but my special abilities are still usable."

From his voice, one could sense that he was still calm. "I used gravity to attack this place once, but the dented wall returned to its original state soon after."

"It was a confined space, and suddenly you were here."

This sentence made me turn around quickly and look at the door - no, there was no such thing as a door, there was not a single crack on the silver-white wall.

I looked back at the stove that had stopped turning. The fragrant hot air was like a signal, causing my abdomen to gradually feel a burning hunger. A secret desire rolled up from my stomach to my brain. My empty and wandering stomach felt as if it was being gnawed by bugs, longing for something.

It is not surprising that a person who dismembers a duck ends up as a piece of meat on a chopping board. However, if one forgets that he was once a butcher, then becoming a food ingredient is somewhat unreasonable and pitiful. From the perspective of the food ingredient, the opposite side is a huge face like a mountain of meat, with a nose, a mouth, eyelashes like crossbars, nostrils like a cave, and a throat connected to the abyss.

Any familiar object, once magnified, becomes ugly and horrible. Their size is their greatest evil.

The artificial relaxed atmosphere was shattered, and the knife-holding Meat Mountain fell into deep thought.

"Do you feel scared?" I interviewed the person who I thought was the strongest fighter: "You are so strong that you can stop a train in a strange way with one kick... Now you are just a piece of cake, so why not compromise with fate?"

Maybe it's an occupational disease, or maybe the tough folks here have left a deep impression on me, I always keep asking the viewers how they feel, and use that to judge my own level. I don't know what they think, but I'm really getting tired of it.

Looking at this story again, it doesn't seem to be that beautiful.

"When should you be afraid? When you encounter an extremely powerful enemy?" Nakahara Chuuya replied: "My answer is 'never'. There is no time to flee from the battlefield. No matter how powerful the enemy is, you just need to crush him with all your strength, instead of considering the consequences before you even start."

He is speaking the truth.

Even if it is just a dish, even if it is just a dish. When the person being humiliated has a very high will, then it is not a humiliation in itself. Perhaps being strong is also a kind of mentality.

It's great! This is the first time I feel this way. I have pursued and recorded weirdness countless times, but if there were no people, the weirdness itself would seem dull and boring, even if "people" are more like consumables. However, there are indeed people in this natural food chain who are still willing to seek a solution, even if they die one after another.

They may not think it is scary, or they may not think it is scary, and they are so stubborn that I am helpless. What's more, they are ashamed of this emotion, but they forget that fear is the real chain that can restrain people's behavior.

If humans had been more fearful, would Pandora's box have been opened? This conjecture makes me sigh.

I will indeed take revenge on the person who broke my car and beat me up, but that doesn't mean I hate him. I can't get to that point.

"You are just a plate of food now, how can you crush it?" I mentioned his pain point.

"No need to keep testing me. You two both know how to make me recover, right?" Yipancai hummed in a humane way. "No matter how you look at it, I am the only fighting force among you. Even if I cannot recover, no one dares to fight against gravity itself."

The Graviton himself is not a big man, and his height has always been a point of attack for his arch-enemy Dazai Osamu, but this does not affect his great reputation among the mafia at all, and he has the confidence to say this.

Well, I actually envy his confidence, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way.

"Okay," I said, "then crush them before the story ends."

I raised the butcher knife, and under the knife was a plate of roast duck transformed from a human.

Isn't it strange that the way to let a duck die is to let life.

Even if I don’t remember what I wrote, given this situation, the next scene is already imminent.

After all, when a person becomes a dish, one probably needs to make a lot of mental preparations before giving up the possibility of living as food.

.

The more we exist in other forms, the more we realize the preciousness of human life.

Nakahara Chuuya moved around for a while before he finally felt better. He finally clicked his hat and revealed a gloomy expression that was very much like a Black Hand cadre: "Now tell me where you want me to crush you."

It seems like he is trying to avenge his past shame.

"No." However, Edogawa Ranpo shattered his plan: "Although it is a lie that the real murderer cannot be found, we have to admit that this world is illogical."

He seemed very angry about this. Indeed, for a detective who is good at solving puzzles, there is nothing more disappointing than having no solution to the puzzle.

"Hat-kun's mission ended when he attracted everyone's attention at the beginning and smoothly entered the story." He turned to look at me, his green eyes revealing a trace of solemnity: "I originally thought that the so-called 'remnant' was still a creature with supernatural powers, until everyone forgot the story, and your performance as an ordinary tourist in the story made me unable to regard everything as just your supernatural power."

"All of this is becoming a reality. I think Dazai Osamu's ability can no longer be eliminated."

I nodded, agreeing with his part of my point: "My ability is at best to control some of the weirdness, but I can't distort their existence. The weirdness itself is there, I just write them out."

I said a long time ago that weirdness is a kind of humanities, with its own national imprint. If I want to write about a bride who hangs herself, the background of the story must be in the East, and if I write about a killer wearing a rabbit-head puppet costume, then it has a distinct European and American flavor. Deformed human bodies and curses passed down from generation to generation, women bound by red ropes and black hair, evil Buddhas worshipped and human ghosts raised, and automatically playing pianos... Countless horror writers have processed and reprocessed the established atmosphere without changing the region.

But what does this mean now?

Edogawa Ranpo looked at the road down the mountain that appeared in the distance at noon, and the faint lights. For the first time, he began to doubt his own judgment.

So, he really hated everything that was not logical or based on reasoning.

"If the attack caused by the hat can be restored..." Edogawa Ranpo thought of the broken Kisaragi Station, and his eyes gradually became sharp: "Then my solution may just be to escape from this secret room, rather than completely destroying it."

Nakahara Chuuya frowned: "Does this mean that this residue cannot be removed?"

"Not only that, we may never have cleared the remnants, and news about the Yokohama supernatural incident has been circulating." Edogawa Ranpo put on his glasses again, his voice serious: "What's worse is that after we go down the mountain, we may enter a world of ducks."

"We will be left completely in this world."

[The mountain is still bustling with activity. Red lanterns are hung up, as if everyone is celebrating the feast of the divine duck. There is a colorful advertisement printed on the butcher shop nearby. A little boy is smiling and sticking out his tongue, with one finger pointing at his tongue and the other hand raising his thumb.

The plaque reads - Delicious Duck Tongue.

The ducks passing by on the hill turned their heads and looked at them. 】

Before Nakahara Chuuya could say anything, Edogawa Ranpo suddenly turned around, narrowed his eyes and asked me, "By the way, Ms. Writer, do you think ghosts really exist in the world?"

I was just listening to his reasoning but was suddenly called out, and asked such a standard question. I helplessly replied, "Of course it doesn't exist...right?"

I just write ghost stories, not promote feudal superstition. If my writing becomes more popular or can really be adapted into a movie, it will inevitably reveal at the end that the ghosts are played by people, or that all this is the protagonist's imagination. But to be honest, this world is already strange enough. Didn't he speculate that ghosts became a reality?

"Our world does not exist." He confirmed your words, but the wording was a little subtle: "But what about your world?"

"Eh?" I laughed. "What did the detective figure out?"

I'm not confused about whether it's a ghost or not, but using the word "my world", maybe [super reasoning] will really come to the conclusion of a super dimension.

Did you see that these weird things were taken from another world? There was nothing you could do about it.

However, Edogawa Ranpo did not answer my question, but finally smiled and said, "Then let's go down the mountain together."

"If it were an ordinary person, I might never be able to return to reality." Edogawa Ranpo talked about the conclusion he reached at the beginning: "But following the writer, the result will be different."

"The owner of this ability is not responsible for any product, unless you want to enter my inner world. Oh, you should have said this earlier--" I subconsciously wanted to break away from the identity of Yuko Ohara (the role I'm currently playing) and become Kyoko who was pulled into the inner world again, but Ranpo Edogawa immediately interrupted me.

"No need to go to such trouble!" He looked startled, his eyes wide open as he quickly finished his next words: "As long as Miss Writer comes down with us, that will be all."

"If these anomalies were released by the story written by you, the author, then there must be a way to take them back." He looked determined: "As long as you experience or read this story, this is why everyone has forgotten the original manuscript."

"Everything that has happened before will happen again."