"Wild Duck Country"

As people from all walks of life tried to piece together the truth of the matter with fragments of information, the night in Yokohama had already been demonized. The fury of impotence and the impasse of progress weighed on the hearts of many people like a mountain.

"We don't know the identity, appearance, and abilities of the person behind the scenes. Even most of the records will be forgotten and distorted the next day. Even if there is not much damage now, there is no guarantee that she will really start the attack after so many attempts and improvements." Sakaguchi Ango pushed his glasses and cast his eyes on the big screen, continuing to analyze: "Compared to what she might do in the future, now it is just like a small fight."

On the screen were rows of data that had been saved after days of rescue, all of which showed the abilities of these devil-like creations. It was known that there were ghosts that could not be harmed by physical attacks, and even a long-haired woman who could be traced through the screen, and some things that had long been beyond people's imagination. However, all the data about that woman had been scratched out of the records, or a wax image, or a rabbit, which seemed even more bizarre and mysterious.

"So what she's doing now is just a test?"

Someone at the table asked directly.

"That's right. The abilities displayed by her [creation] are seriously inconsistent with the original abilities. She is hiding it. She thinks now is not the right time. Even though her image will fade away at an abnormal speed, she deliberately let everyone remember that sentence. It is also the only audio that can be played normally, that is, this sentence--"

The first part of the audio was a chaotic crackling sound, as if someone was fiddling with the antenna of a radio. The noise stopped abruptly, and then there was a cold voice, which made people feel goosebumps all over their bodies.

[“Are you scared? Only stories that can truly awaken humanity’s most primitive fears are worthy of being known by the world.”]

【“Maybe it’s the next one.”】

Then, as if the signal was bad, the noisy sound of snowflakes reappeared, casting a shadow on their hearts.

"Is it... a notice?"

Some people couldn't help but murmur to themselves.

"Obviously, the answer to this question will determine whether she fully uses her special abilities. I don't think anyone here wants to see that day come."

Sakaguchi Ango looked around and revealed a solemn expression: "Until we completely control her, we must not let that day come."

She was preparing for a night of feast and revelry, but she also asked the guests whether they were looking forward to the party - only if they were looking forward to it would she start the party.

Isn't the answer obvious?

.

The moonlight may be familiar with this. It falls on the swaying leaves, on the low bungalows, and shines through the window glass onto the moving pen tip. Listening to the subtle friction sound, I imagine the person or thing that will be presented under the pen. It is still a quiet night, and there is still a person sitting by the window writing a story.

The difference is that as the story draws to an end, what comes is not a heart full of joy, but a sigh of helplessness.

Although I am very confident verbally, if this book also fails, I will have thoughts like "as expected", "everyone is really too calm", "I am actually not surprised at all".

The spirit of perseverance is admirable, but constant failure is also a blow. Even if I think my writing is good, what's the point? Now I can no longer understand this world. After thinking about it, I think I am out of touch with this world.

When I thought of this possibility, I couldn't help but panic. I always looked at people in this world with my own standards. I didn't communicate with readers during the creation process. There was a huge gap. I only knew that it was not scary, but I didn't even have the slightest idea of ​​what was missing. Maybe for people in this world, immersing themselves in horror is the norm. When I think about it this way, I'm just standing still.

I wouldn't be talking nonsense for so long, would I?

I was shocked, and then fell into deep doubt.

"I wanted to ask everyone how they felt, but ended up showing off. I failed to show off and got slapped in the face. The situation was too embarrassing so I ran away immediately and forgot about the business... In the end, it was all my fault!"

I was silent for a while, then picked up the manuscript as if nothing had happened, looked at the still dark night, and decided to revise the previous error demonstration now.

What makes me sad is that I am now a nocturnal creature, even though I chose to live a life of day and night reversal due to my career, but it definitely does not include night walking. However, the night is already a reassuring environment for me. I still have the most basic fear and awe of the night, but because I am now somewhat capable at night, the fear has been diluted, just like returning home.

The street lights were dim, and the dust covering the light tubes was returning to the night. Even when walking on the wide road, there were few people on the road, as if the whole world had forgotten the hustle and bustle.

But there will definitely be some places with people, such as 24-hour convenience stores, or hotels and the like. I only need one person, and he must be ordinary, blending in with the crowd. Such people can be found in these places, and they possess the basic terror methods of this world.

But what if you reject me?

Hey, a third-rate horror novel writer has already been under too much pressure that doesn't belong to her, so please help if you can.

I tilted my head to think about this question, then pushed the door and walked into the 24-hour convenience store.

The convenience store is neatly arranged, and the bright light can even dispel the chill brought in from outside. Snacks fill the shelves, with seasonal specials written on them in beautiful fonts, which can be considered as something that can bring comfort to people late at night.

"What can I do for you?"

The convenience store boy asked with a smile. He was wearing a white velvet hat, which made him look soft. His eyes were also a beautiful and intoxicating color, as if all the purple flowers were crushed and the beautiful flower juice was collected. He looked quite good, not like an ordinary person.

But everyone I met here has their own characteristics and temperament, and so far, none of them are ugly. Even the unkempt and shabby-looking ones have an unpredictable aura.

I thought to myself, tightened the documents in my hand, picked a bunch of snacks, and casually brought up the topic while paying the bill: "Something strange seems to have happened recently. Aren't you scared here alone?"

"Scared? No."

His hands moved slowly, probably because he didn't want to end the conversation quickly. After all, people tend to gather in groups. Knowing this, I continued, "Human eyes can only look forward, and even then they can only see about two-thirds of the range. When you focus, you can see even less. Don't you worry about what will appear in places you can't see?"

He looked up at me, still smiling: "Maybe it's because I know nothing will happen to me, so I'm not that scared. Fear is always based on the feeling of being helpless. I feel like I'm at home here."

"Won't the young lady be scared being outside alone?"

He threw the question back to me.

I was amazed at his confidence, but I showed a look of disapproval on my face: "Although fear is related to one's own ability, it is completely unreasonable to think that you can overcome fear just because you can defeat it."

"Fear of the unknown is human nature and a common language for all living things. It is a means of self-protection. Oh, it's useless to talk too much. You should experience it yourself to understand."

He had an expression that showed he was eager to hear more details.

The next thing happened naturally, so smoothly that I felt incredible. I handed in the manuscript with a blank expression on my face, but with a hint of secret expectation and excitement in my heart.

If you think about it carefully, it is really a simple thing. Just meet someone and ask them what they think about this story, and everyone will be happy. Once I materialize it, I can't modify it. Even if I notice something wrong, it's too late. I can only finish the story in embarrassment. It's obviously a multiplayer game, but I played it as a single player.

If he thinks it's okay, the materialization can begin tonight!

[Even though they are roasted ducks, they look full and glow with an alluring color under the light of the fire. A hint of sweet aroma fills the mind, and the roasted duck's belly is bulging, as if it is hiding some surprise.

"How long will it take? If we don't start now, the duck will get cold."

The portly man complained quietly, his eyes fixed on the honey-colored roast duck, and he swallowed quietly, thinking he was doing so.

The old woman at the side showed that incomprehensible expression again. She glanced at the man with a fake smile and said, "Why are you in such a hurry? The Duck God hasn't enjoyed it yet. We can't break the rules."

The huge wooden table was filled with dishes, with curls of hot steam rising with a strange aroma. The food was ready, but the guests stood aside waiting, as a sign of respect for the gods.

"You duck gods eat ducks?"

The man replied without thinking, but then realized that his words were not appropriate and were actually offensive. Someone beside him gently pushed him to remind him, and before he could say anything, the old woman sneered and pointed at the feast in front of her and said, "Eat, you foreigners."

"Since you have participated in the annual sacrifice, you are a guest. However, today we only have various kinds of duck meat. I hope you are satisfied."

The duck roasting in the stove was taken out and sliced. The man was stunned by how big it was.

"Then let Mr. Hatta slice it, okay, Mr. Hatta?"

The old woman spoke tremblingly, with an inexplicable light in her eyes.

She knew that Hatada Riku would not refuse, but she was still very confused. Hatada Riku was overjoyed. He first untied the duck's elbow, and then carefully cut off slices of meat with a knife. The golden oil flowed out at this time, bringing with it a fragrant aroma.

"Yata-kun, I like to eat duck tongue and duck brain."

Yuko Ohara said embarrassedly, and only heard Riku Hatta say that it was not difficult. He untied the head, used a tool to open the skull, inserted his finger into the hole in the duck's lower jaw, opened the duck's mouth, and revealed the oval duck tongue.

People had already started gnawing on duck cheeks and duck fingers, and the atmosphere was filled with joy under the candlelight.

“Is it delicious?”

The locals asked, and the people who came here to see the annual duck feast gave a thumbs up. What they didn't know was that the people around them were either confused or couldn't help laughing.

The old woman shook off her previous gloom and smiled.