Copyright
PSYCOME, Vol. 3: Murder Maiden and the Fatal Final
MIZUKI MIZUSHIRO
Translation by Nicole Wilder
Cover art by Namanie
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
PSYCOME
© 2013 MIZUKI MIZUSHIRO
All rights reserved.
First published in Japan in 2013 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION ENTERBRAIN.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION ENTERBRAIN through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Yen On
1290 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10104
Visit us at yenpress.com
facebook.com/yenpress
twitter.com/yenpress
yenpress.tumblr.com
instagram.com/yenpress
First Yen On Edition: February 2017
Yen On is an imprint of Yen Press, LLC.
The Yen On name and logo are trademarks of Yen Press, LLC.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Mizushiro, Mizuki, author. | Namanie, illustrator. | Wilder, Nicole, translator.
Title: Psycome / Mizuki Mizushiro ; illustration by Namanie ; translation by Nicole Wilder.
Other titles: Saikome. English
Description: First Yen On edition. | New York, NY : Yen On, 2016–Identifiers: LCCN 2016005815 | ISBN 9780316272339 (v. 1 : paperback) | ISBN 9780316398251 (v. 2 : paperback) | ISBN 9780316398268 (v. 3 : paperback)
Subjects: LCSH: False imprisonment—Fiction. | Science fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.M636 Ps 2016 | DDC 895.63/6—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2016005815
ISBNs: 978-0-316-39826-8 (paperback)
978-0-316-39827-5 (ebook)
E3-20170131-JV-PC
“Die!”
An iron pipe cut through the air, accompanied by a roar that was not at all suited to the lisping voice that made it. The tip of the pipe was en route to the bridge of a particular pierced nose, like always.
“Hya-haaaaaaaaaaaa!”
In the next moment, however, that male student bent and twisted, avoiding the fierce blow. A violent wind blew across the bright red tips of his Mohawk as the pipe sailed past.
“……?!”
The classroom stirred at this unexpected development. Even Kurumiya, who had swung the pipe, opened both eyes wide.
Mohawk’s eyes sparkled. With both hands, he currently gripped an enormous chainsaw. Readying the deadly weapon, holding it low as it reverberated with a heavy bass sound—dudududududu—Mohawk licked his lips.
“Gya-ha-ha-ha-ha! Victory is mine, widdle Kurumiyaaaaaa!” With a high-pitched war cry, he swung the chainsaw upward. The many whirring blades, spinning at incredible speed, carved a gash in the floor, threatening to split Kurumiya right in half from below. “Gya-ha!!”
Of course, this unthinkable thing did not come to pass. Easily shifting to avoid the blow, Kurumiya moved to grab hold of Mohawk’s face with her empty hand.
“Gyaaaaaaah!” Despite his furious efforts, Mohawk could do nothing but struggle clumsily. Meanwhile the chainsaw blade, which had fallen to the side, continued to spin vigorously.
“Aaaaaahhh!”
Gagagagagaga. The chainsaw started to shave away at the desk of a nearby male student—Kyousuke Kamiya.
Kyousuke, who was nearly killed, fell out of his desk in a fright.
“Gaah!! Watch where you’re touching, freak!”
“Huh?!”
The girl he had fallen on promptly slapped him.
Kurumiya, who held Mohawk in a clawhold, did not so much as glance at that disturbance. “That you were able to avoid my iron pipe shows some growth, doesn’t it, Mohawk? But remember this! An asshole like you will never take down someone like me, not in a hundred trillion yeeeaaars!!”
Furious, she struck the blackboard with her previously empty hand.
“Gya-haaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!” The back of Mohawk’s head ground into the surface of the board, cracks spidering out around it.
Releasing her grip on the problem child, his eyes now rolling back in his head, Kurumiya frowned. “Really…despite his thorough punishment during the prison camping trip, this little shit-pig seriously doesn’t learn his lesson! And he stole my private property again. There’s a limit to how far you can provoke me, you know… Breaking in even though I lock it up… Hey, medics! Clean up this garbage.”
Responding to the teacher’s orders, the white-clad group that had been on standby quickly collected Mohawk’s body. They loaded him onto a stretcher and carried him off with a “heave-ho!” They also killed the engine of the chainsaw that had been just about to cut Kyousuke’s desk apart, and carried it away as well.
“…Hey. How long do you plan to stay like that?”
The neighbor to Kyousuke’s left—the girl with rust-red hair and eyes the same color and who had gotten involved when he fell on her—spoke up in an irritated voice.
She glared down at Kyousuke, who was clinging to her waist. “Hurry up and let go of me, you sex fiend!”
“Huh?!”
She hit him again.
“…Well, then. I’m resuming morning homeroom.” Regaining her composure, Kurumiya began to distribute the printouts she had prepared.
Holding his cheek, which throbbed with pain, Kyousuke accepted a handout. On that piece of paper was written:
Purgatorium Remedial Academy First Trimester Final Exam Schedule
Although there had been talk of exams, this was the first time one had actually been announced.
Looking around the noisy classroom, Kurumiya launched into a lengthy explanation. “Comprehensive evaluations at our institution happen three times each year in the form of final exams conducted at the conclusion of the first, second, and third trimesters. There are no midterm exams. Because of this, the scope of the exam is extensive, so each of you must work hard and review! The test is given over two days and covers ten subjects. Each exam takes sixty minutes, the same length as a class period.”
A timetable was drawn on the printout, with instructions printed above and below. The first day would be Japanese language, social studies, English language, home economics, and art, while the second day would cover math, science, music, health education…and ethics. Except for the test on ethics and the broad scope of the exams, they seemed like surprisingly normal exams.
Nevertheless, it seemed that, even at this academy, students still found the prospect of exams to be depressing. The atmosphere in the classroom had grown noticeably gloomier. Amid the shadow that had fallen, Kurumiya continued to toll the bell:
“Now, a failing grade is anything below half of the average class score. As for what might happen in the unlikely event that you should get a failing grade in my c
lass…well, you know the answer to that without me having to say it, don’t you, my little piggies?”
Crushing the printout in her hand, she continued, her tone turning violent: “Don’t think that your answer sheet will be the only thing stained red! The long vacation immediately following the exams will be canceled, and various things may end up broken during your supplementary lessons. And then, just try failing the supplementary examination! I’ll teach you plenty besides the usual lessons! Fear and despair, shame and humiliation, torture techniques and execution methods from all over the world! I’ll use your own bastard bodies as teaching materials!!”
—Bam! She slammed her fist down.
“…………”
The classroom returned to silence. Everyone in the room understood the situation clearly. These were no ordinary examinations. They were deadly tests on which they were being forced to gamble their lives.
Lording over her shuddering charges, Kurumiya added, “But…for the end-of-term exams, we don’t just swing the rod. We also dangle the carrot! Anyone with superior grades will have their achievement recognized by being allowed to go out on parole in the free world during summer break! Of course, they’ll be under probationary supervision, but for one whole week they’ll have the chance to do whatever they please outside the institution! They can do anything they want to do, go anywhere they want to go, and see anyone they want to see…”
The atmosphere in the classroom responded to the juicy carrot being dangled before them. Shock, excitement, delight, agitation…
Among the students, the one who showed the most obvious reaction was—
“—Hey!”
Kicking his chair back, Kyousuke jumped to his feet, drawing the attention of his classmates. However, Kyousuke paid it no mind. He could only think about the announcement.
See anyone they want to see. Kurumiya had definitely said that.
“…Is that true?”
Eyes set on his grinning teacher, he demanded confirmation.
Kurumiya assented. “Of course! A teacher wouldn’t tell lies to her students! While on parole, you will be free. As long as you adhere to the terms and conditions laid out by your probation officer, you will not be questioned as to what you do.”
“…Terms and conditions?” Kyousuke inquired further. How many students would be rewarded with parole if their grades were high enough? He wanted to hear all the details up front.
Kurumiya toyed with a rolled-up printout. “On the basis of their total scores in all ten subjects, those who take the top three spots in their grade will qualify. As it says on your printout, that is the minimum requirement for parole. If, on top of that, the student does not exhibit any serious behavioral issues, then parole will be authorized. The criteria are not that strict, so you can relax. Though someone with delinquent behavior as bad as Mohawk’s would likely be unequivocally rejected…”
Kurumiya’s face distorted as she spat the words.
Mohawk, who had never even properly attended class, was the strongest contender for a failing mark. He would almost certainly be attending the supplementary lessons, and even thinking about it made Kurumiya miserable.
“Shit, that fuckin’ pig-bastard! Die! Die, die, die!” she yelled, and as they watched her mutilate a printout, they found it impossible not to sympathize with her. “Hmph. Are those all your questions?”
“…Yes. Thank you.” Nodding, Kyousuke sat back down. He read the information written on the printout. For someone like Kyousuke, who possessed only ordinary intelligence, ranking in the top three in his school year would not be an easy feat. The hurdle standing between him and parole was high.
It’s not a matter of “can” or “can’t.” I will do it! Failing marks and supplementary lessons…I don’t give a damn about all that! No matter what happens, I will be in the top three—!
He could be on the outside. Even if it was just one week, he would be able to go back and see her.
Her: his little sister, who was still awaiting his return. He wanted to apologize in person and set her mind at ease.
He would tell her that it might take time, but that he would definitely make it home.
He would ask her to be patient until then.
—I have to.
Purgatorium Remedial Academy was a strange school full of underage murderers. Kyousuke, who had been sentenced there on false charges, was now determined.
It was the last Friday in July. Ten days remained before the final exams.
For the first time, Kyousuke would study like his life depended on it…
“Oh, and one more thing. I have a serious announcement to make.”
“…Huh?”
Kyousuke, who had begun preparing for class, looked at Kurumiya to see what the matter was. Not “important” or “necessary,” but serious.
He felt something strangely sinister in that.
Kurumiya cleared her throat. “Ahem.
“A new person will be joining our first-year Class A.”
—A transfer student.
The classroom buzzed in response.
What could it mean to have a transfer student at this institution for murderers? And in July no less, just before exams? Kyousuke’s premonition grew only darker.
“It’s poor timing, but…in consideration of a special request from the transferee, and for certain personal reasons, measures were taken to authorize an extraordinary transfer.” As she spoke, Kurumiya drew out a new iron pipe.
Thrusting the end, which was bent into a hook shape, toward the students, she continued:
“At the beginning of Golden Week this year, our transfer student entered their middle school classroom while a lesson was in session and fired a modified shotgun—or rather, had planned to. However, possibly because of a defect in how the gun was assembled, the shells did not discharge. The weapon misfired. Sadly, this person was arrested.
“In other words, it was attempted murder. Even so, their intent to kill was unmistakably real, and if the gun had not malfunctioned, there probably would have been enough victims to rival Kamiya’s count of twelve… So, while zero people were actually killed, the brutality of this person’s intentions could not be overlooked, and they were placed into our custody for rehabilitation.”
Holding the iron pipe like a gun, Kurumiya mimicked shooting. “Bang!”
She had aimed it carefully at Kyousuke’s forehead.
No blood gushed out, but plenty of sweat trickled down his face. Bursting into a classroom holding a shotgun—that’s too awful! And she’s saying that someone like that is going to be in our class from now on? Ack! I won’t be able to concentrate on the tests…!
She had said that there were zero casualties, but that did not grant Kyousuke the slightest peace of mind. Judged by those actions, this new transfer student was not the kind of person he wanted anything to do with. But while Kyousuke trembled with fear, most of his classmates seemed to be growing excited.
“Wow, a shotgun is too cool! I want to try shooting one sometime, too. Bang, bang, bang, like that!”
“Hee-hee…a storm of bullets, then it rains blood…everything flooded bright red…hee-hee.”
“A gun in Japan, they must be pretty disturbed…heh-heh! If it’s a beautiful girl I’ll give her a warm welcome, though.”
“What a brutal person, seriously! Forget about roughing up old guys, that’s a crime against humanity!”
And so on. Everyone talked to everyone else around them in one big racket.
However, the moment Kurumiya snapped one single word—“Quiet!”—the noise abruptly stopped.
The pupils were absolutely obedient to their teacher; that lesson had been beaten into their minds and bodies through repeated threats and violence.
“Well, there’s no need for me to go on telling you this and that, eh? Why don’t we get her to tell you the details directly from her own mouth? You bastards are probably curious, too, you sick bunch of murderers! You want to know what kind of person it is,
the psycho chick who wouldn’t hesitate to commit mass murder of her own school friends…heh-heh-heh.”
Laughing, Kurumiya looked at the door in the front of the classroom. Everyone followed her gaze. “Okay, you’re good,” Kurumiya called out. “Get in here!”
Rattle, rattle, rattle… The sliding door opened.
“Here I come!”
Speaking in a high-pitched, out-of-tune voice, the transfer student finally appeared. The eyes of the other students, reflecting her figure, opened wide all at once.
…The transfer student was a young girl. She was short and incredibly slender; her delicate limbs, extending out of the sleeves and down from the skirt hem of her uniform, looked like they might snap at any moment. But what arrested everyone’s eyes was not her body, but her head.
“Aww, I can barely see.” Looking restlessly around the classroom, the transfer student entered. Where there should have been a human head, instead there was a light-brown, freshly severed horse head.
“”
Everyone stared at the unidentifiable horse person, dumbfounded.
The texture of the skin was incredibly realistic, including visible veins, and it shone wetly in the light. The half-open mouth, big nostrils, and bulging eyeballs struck quite an image.
“Eeeeeek!! A horse head! A cryptid! A monsteeer!!” Behind and to the left of Kyousuke, a female student drew back in fear, screaming.
In reality of course, it was not a real horse head, but a costume mask. And yet, it was elaborate enough to cause this timid girl to panic. Its impact was tremendous.
“The inside really stinks of rubber, too. I want to take it off already. It’s suffocating meee.” What’s more, her voice was unnaturally high, like she had inhaled helium from a party balloon or something.
The students stared at this weird horse-person transfer student as she slowly crossed the classroom until, finally, she managed to reach the teacher’s desk.
“…Phew! I’m lucky I made it this far. It’s a wonder I didn’t fall!”
“Yes, sorry for the trouble. Don’t take it off yet! First of all, give us your self-introduction as you are.”
“Okay, got it!”
Murder Maiden and the Fatal Final Page 1