Murder Princess and the Summer Death Camp

by Mizuki Mizushiro

  From Bob’s eyes, which were locked on Kyousuke, tears poured freely. “Yesterday’s friends are today’s enemies. I’m sorry, I don’t want my squad members to be condemned.”

  “……?!”

  Having come to their senses, everyone standing there realized what they had to do: To avoid coming in last, to escape condemnation, only one group could remain.

  “So, for the sake of my group members, I will smash all of you.”

  “Uaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!” Letting out a warcry, Michirou leaped upon Eiri, who happened to be closest to him.

  “…Tch!!” The girl avoided him nimbly, and the two of them passed without touching. Eiri snapped into a midheight kick by way of response.

  Taking this blow to the stomach, Michirou collapsed on the spot. In the very next instant, however, his eyes snapped open. “I got iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittt!”

  “Huh?! Wait…kyaaaaaaaaahhh!!”

  Michirou had grasped Eiri’s foot in both hands and was trying to force her down. Overwhelmed, Eiri shook as she resisted. But, unable to correct her stance, she was soon twisted to the ground.

  “Eiri?! Ohhhhhhh deaaaaaar—meagh!!”

  Chihiro had latched on to Maina’s calf with a “Nom!” as she tried to rush over to Eiri. The unexpected bite threw Maina off balance.

  “Whooooooaaaaaa!!” Her left leg captured, Maina tumbled end over end, with Chihiro still attached, in an energetic and magnificent somersault.

  “Aaaauugghh!!”

  Following through as though finishing an ax kick, Maina slammed her leg into the ground. Chihiro, who was still clinging to her, was crushed between Maina’s foot and the hard dirt.

  “Wha…Chi-Chihiro?! That just now, what the—”

  “Please don’t think badly of me!”

  Bob, astonished by Maina’s clumsiness, offered Kyousuke an opening. Once he saw it, he couldn’t turn a blind eye to it. Tossing aside Mohawk, who was on the verge of death anyway, Kyousuke focused on the enormous body before his eyes; into the center of it, he slammed a full-force gazelle punch. His fist struck home on the beefy body protected by thick fat.

  “Eeeaagh!!”

  Bob’s enormous shape went flying, kicking up a cloud of dust as it bounded along the ground, until finally it came to a stop at Renko’s feet. Renko, meanwhile, stood dumbfounded as her teammate bled from beneath her flour sack.

  “Bob?!” Renko shouted, embracing her upper body. “Are you alive?! Bob! Boooooobbb?!”

  “……R-Renko.”

  “Bob! Th-thank goodness…you’re alive—”

  “Run.”

  “Huh?”

  “Run, I said! Don’t waste my…everyone’s sacrifice…don’t…”

  “……?!”

  Renko shook with a start.

  Immediately, Eiri’s strained voice came through: “What are you daydreaming about, Kyousuke?! You run, too! Quickly! Get the Deadly Sins Card to the goal before Renko does—Wha?! Wait…wh-where are you touching?! You pervert! S-stop… If you don’t cut that out, I’ll murder you. Ahh!” Even with blood streaming from his nose, Michirou eagerly grabbed on to Eiri’s leg and wouldn’t let go while she urged Kyousuke onward with a beet red face.

  “Michirou, you…”

  You’re in such an enviable position! Switch with me!

  As Kyousuke was making this mental demand, a black gas mask dashed past him. Hanging from Renko’s neck was a Deadly Sins Card. While Kyousuke had been distracted by Michirou’s courageous flare, Renko had left Bob and taken off running.

  Coming back to his senses, Kyousuke rushed after her. “Wait for me, Renkooooooooo!”

  “No way! I don’t want to be condemned! Kksshh! Ka-kksshh!”

  The two of them sprinted desperately for the finish line, where Busujima was waiting. They ran madly, scrambling to be first to reach the summit that was still dozens of yards away. “Oh, incredible. Isn’t this a majorly close contest… Do your best, both of you! If you lose, fear and condemnation await yoouuu! Con-dem-na-tion! Whoever touches my hand first, even by a second, is the winner. Come on, just a little further! Puuuuuushhh!” Having stepped away from the placard, Busujima was holding his hand out across the finish line.

  Whoever reached that hand first would be the winner—Kyousuke and Renko were neck and neck, each trying to knock the other down, crashing against each other at full speed.

  “Urrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaahhh! You’re gonna loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooose!”

  The two roared in unison from the bottom of their guts.

  The goal point—Busujima’s outstretched hand—drew near. Bob, Eiri, Michirou, Maina, Chihiro—they all held their breath, watching attentively for the outcome of the contest.

  Kyousuke and Renko. The hands of the two squad captains, from whose necks hung the Deadly Sins Cards, nearly simultaneously stretched out toward Busujima’s open palm…

  Under the summer sky, the sound of a high-pitched whistle echoed through the forest, signaling the end of the matchup.

  At 3:45 PM, the Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering finished peacefully.

  “…And that’s how it is, yes. Everyone, you worked very hard. I really believe that you tried your best! I thought at least one of you would wind up dead, but although there were many casualties, everyone returned alive. My goodness, you did so well!”

  With a fresh smile that did not match his haggard face, Busujima clapped his hands.

  Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering was over, and Kyousuke and the other students had gathered on the training plaza. The lone clapping of one person gradually abated—then abruptly ceased.

  Busujima, the smile gone from his face, looked gloomy. “…However, unfortunately, in this absurdly merciless world, it is not possible for us to be evaluated solely on doing our best. Great efforts go unrewarded; we are betrayed by our hopes, the fruits of our repeated labors, and any happiness we manage to capture… And on any given day, out of nowhere, a person’s life might be snatched away by murderers such as yourselves. It’s that kind of world. How cruel!”

  “……”

  Sitting before Busujima, who continued voicing his laments, were a number of students, their knees tucked under them on the bare dirt. One, two, three, four…in total there were fourteen students. Excepting those bearing serious injuries and the ones who had fallen along the way, these were the students in squads that had been disqualified and the one with the worst completion time.

  Standing in front of them, looking down at the girls especially, Busujima droned on. Yet one part of his back, covered by his worn-out suit, suddenly swelled up.

  “…Eeek!!” Surrounding the victims who were about to be condemned were student observers. A boy from Class B, who was on the side where he could see Busujima’s back, let slip a frightened, high-pitched shriek.

  A strange bulge had emerged from Busujima’s back. It was about the size of a handball and was squirming restlessly. Then, it divided into two and slowly began to travel. From his back to the tops of his shoulders…from his shoulders down his arms…

  Waiting in the corner of the training grounds, Kurumiya watched with a grin.

  “Certainly, you all tried very hard. I do appreciate your efforts. I am a gentle man after all. But regrettably, the world is a cruel place… Particularly, the world that you all are living in now is especially so. That is what I am going to teach you. Effort with no results is worthless; completely meaningless, as it does not produce outcomes. In other words, losers like you bastards—are lower than scum in this world.”

  Busujima turned the somber atmosphere on its head. Both of his sleeves now dangled loosely, and from the inside of each one fell a mass: one bluish purple, one yellow.

  Thud.

  Wriggling on the ground were two snakes. They were about the same thickness as Kurumiya’s iron pipes, and their bodies were twice as long. Geometric patterns ran over their brightly colored scales like tattoos.<
br />
  “Well, then, everyone. In accordance with the schedule in your guidebooks, following the Seven Deadly Sins Atonement Orienteering, let’s move on to the ‘public atonement’ portion for the condemned, shall we? Student observers, you should not view this as if it is happening to someone else. You are next! For if you are careless, they will come gobble you up!”

  Busujima’s transformation affected more than just his demeanor, and it spread through his whole body. On his back, his shoulders, his upper arms, his forearms—countless bulges of various sizes appeared.

  They moved over his waist, his rear, his thighs, his ankles, all squirming relentlessly. Crawling around underneath his suit, they converged at the exits and rushed out into the world. Busujima’s slimy eyes calculated their targets.

  Turning to face the students—who were panicking, shaking, crying, screaming, and trying to run away before his eyes—he pronounced, “…Well, then, everyone. I have kept you waiting far too long.” He smiled coldly.

  “Starting now, the public disciplining of the condemned… Let the ‘Venom Opera’ begin!”

  He let loose his swarm of domesticated deadly weapons, and sent them forth.

  From his suit collar, from the sleeves of his shirt, from the hems of his pants—all at once came snakes, frogs, lizards, leeches, centipedes, spiders, bees, caterpillars—

  “Wha…eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeekkk!!”

  In waves, the swarm rushed over the students like an avalanche. The squirming creatures all sported sharp fangs, claws, and stingers that pierced and scratched at every centimeter of exposed flesh.

  “……?!”

  The students on the receiving end of this assault underwent an infinite variety of transformations: Those bitten by snakes fell down on the spot holding their throats, and began convulsing violently. The bodies of those caught by lizards stiffened up like stones, and became unable to move. Those stung by bees let out earsplitting shrieks and writhed about in agony.

  The pandemonium was like a portrait of hell. The vermin flitted about the training grounds while the students screamed and ran around trying to escape—only to thrust themselves into the mass of spectators, sending the whole area into an uproar.

  Watching this terrible spectacle in evident amusement was Kurumiya. “Hee-hee-hee… The Venom Opera—Kirito Busujima uses venomous animals. He keeps countless numbers of toxic animals concealed all over his body, and employs his perfectly trained horde with complete mastery… The effects of their blended venoms, prepared by Busujima himself, are delightfully varied. Neurotoxins, paralytic agents, hemorrhagins, sleeping poisons, laughing poisons and aphrodisiacs, poisons that make you unable to stop hiccupping, even poisons that make you speak archaically—he even has ridiculous things like that. By injecting several different types of poison into his targets, he blends the toxins inside their body, and is able to induce even more transfigurations… Hee-hee-hee. At a glance, he seems like a boring, awful man, but in truth, he’s even more of a sadist than me, that bastard! His own poisons—he delights in forcing transformation on his prey, turning them into props for his dramas; he derives utmost pleasure from it…as both director and audience.”

  As Kurumiya calmly explained the situation, the students were being overwhelmed, their suffering continuing. In the center of the training plaza, where students and animals were jumbled together, Shinji screamed, “Somebody…somebody, help—hic. Please help—hic. P-prithee helpeth meeeeeeeee—hic!”—all while cradling the limp body of the ditzy girl in his arms. He was stung by a bee on the back of the neck, and instantly grabbed his throat and fainted in agony.

  “…Hm. My, can such things happen? Well, even if they get too carried away and an unexpected chain reaction occurs, that’s just how it goes. I shall show forgiveness at this point. Depending on the poison, if you don’t inject the antidote promptly, you will actually die—uh, huh? Oh myyy!” Looking around the grounds, which had fallen silent, Busujima nodded. His blank, normally unchanging eyes twinkled. Drawing his gaze, which was tinted with surprise and curiosity, was—

  “Only one child showing no signs of poisoning, hm… Oh, I see. Regular poisons have nearly no effect on you! Your immunity is too strong. The weak poisons that I use for discipline need to be stronger to work on you. Well, well, what’s to be done with you?”

  “……Kksshh.”

  Though surrounded by vermin, one female student remained seated on the ground, maintaining her posture. The girl wearing the black gas mask, who had been defeated by Kyousuke at the last second, and the leader of the squad with the worst completion time—it was Renko.

  “I’m sorry…I’m sorry, everyone… If only I weren’t so worthless…sob.” In front of the repenting Renko lay the bodies of her tragic squad mates. Beset by a swarm of mosquitoes, scratching furiously at his skin and muttering, “Itchy, itchy, itchy, itchy, it’s so itchyyy!” was Michirou. Paralyzed faceup, not moving in the slightest, and with a huge lizard on her face, was Chihiro. Finally, flopping about like a fish and shaking the very ground with her convulsions was Bob.

  Busujima took a few steps toward Renko, who sat trembling as she stared at the bodies of her squad mates. Gas mask hanging down in shame, she mumbled frailly, “I can’t believe it. My breasts got in the way. They were shaking, so it was hard to run. It hurt; they’re heavy… If only my boobs weren’t so big… If only they were tiny like Eiri’s! I would have won, one hundred percent guaranteed. I would have won! Kksshh…”

  Yes: What had decided the outcome of the contest had been Renko’s enormous breasts.

  Behind Kyousuke, who stood quietly viewing the public discipline, Eiri sneered. “…Serves you right.”

  Looking down on Renko, who was staring dejectedly at her own chest, Busujima stroked his unshaven chin. “…My goodness, how pitiful. But you don’t have to feel that sad about it, do you? Enormous breasts are wonderful—they’re priceless. There you have the dreams of men, full of romance! So please, cheer up. And please provide energy to the lower halves of men’s bodies with your fantastic melons—okay?”

  Okay? You can’t say that!

  “…What the hell is with that guy? He should just die.”

  “…I should discipline him instead.”

  Eiri and Kurumiya, the two with tiny chests, seethed with anger.

  “Well, since that’s how it is, let me ask one thing of you, my friend.”

  From Busujima’s right sleeve (while he looked down at Renko’s chest), a new animal peeked out. It was a snake with electric-pink scales and a heart-shaped violet pattern. Holding this snake, which had slithered down his wrist and appeared at his fingertips, Busujima approached Renko.

  Likely owing to an instinctive fear, Renko screamed and fell backward. “M-Mr. B-Busujima…wh-wwwwh-what is that?!”

  “A Pink Killer—his name’s Loverboy.”

  “L-loverboy?!”

  “Yes. He’s my dear friend. You can tell by the body coloration that he’s a male. Since my partial-strength poisons don’t seem to have any effect on you, I’ve decided to try this exceptionally strong—and yet not deadly—venom. I think it’s perfect for you in your present state.”

  “M-Mr. B-Busujima…wh-what kind of poison is it…?”

  “I wonder… Seeing is believing. Don’t think about it, feel it—you’ll understand as you try it out with your own body, yes. I’ll let you feel it fully!”

  “Ah…”

  He held the venomous snake—Loverboy—out toward the retreating girl. It reared its heart-shaped head back and then, a moment later, sprang out to strike at her, a full-force attack.

  “Ah…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!”

  Renko’s scream roared through the training plaza.

  And so the curtain came down on this Venom Opera.

  “”

  The House of Limbo, in the cafeteria. As at lunch, Kyousuke and the others were gathered together by squad, eating a meal.

  In the somber, wake-like
atmosphere, all of them carried on eating their “Satanic Swine Barbeque.”

  “…Come on, cheer up.” Unable to stand the gloom, Kyousuke tried to get a response out of Renko. His classmate sat across from him, facedown on the table, her gas mask hidden from sight.

  Draped in a thin cardigan, her slender shoulders twitched occasionally, and groaning could be heard. Her masked face was hidden under her folded arms. “Sob…I can’t believe I had to suffer through something so awful…! Waaahhh! I’m so embarrassed. How can I ever show my face in public again…? Kksshh…ka-kksshh.”

  “Well, you didn’t really show it in the first place. But what can I say…I mean…d-don’t worry about it?” Kyousuke was disarmed by her voice, which sounded weaker than he’d ever heard.

  Even the usually snappy Eiri spoke uncomfortably. “Whining and moaning…pull it together! The way you’re acting, you’re making this horrible food taste even worse.”

  Maina, sitting next to Renko, stroked the gas mask–wearing girl’s head silently.

  Renko’s other squad mates—Bob, Chihiro, and Michirou—were resting in the infirmary. Most of the other students who had been on the receiving end of Busujima’s “public discipline” were absent. Their conditions didn’t seem to be serious, but after being injected with antidotes to Busujima’s poison cocktails, they needed time to rest and recover. With fewer students, the cafeteria was much quieter than normal, and Kyousuke and the others took the opportunity to search for the words to comfort Renko.

  “Begging your pardon! Please excuse me as I take this seat.”

  A gentle voice, out of place in the gloomy atmosphere, interrupted the silence.

  A young lady, accompanied by the sweet aroma of honey, had taken the seat next to Kyousuke. When he turned his head in confusion, he saw a bright, smiling face.

  “How do you do, Mr. Kamiya—and his bunch of merry friends! Nice to meet you all. I am Saki Shamaya of the third-year Class A, chair of the Public Morals Committee. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

  Eiri raised her eyebrows. “…Merry friends?”