“Thanks a lot, upperclassman!”
“……?!”
Takamoto was slow, compared to Eiri’s little sister Kagura.
Kyousuke grabbed the boy’s wrist, halting the deadly dance of the shamshir, then pulled his right arm back. Keeping the weapon in check with his left hand, he swung at Takamoto’s wide-eyed face with his right fist—
““Well, hello.””
As he was about to land the blow, two figures appeared in opposite corners of his vision. Two students wearing the same skull scarves as the first pressed in on him simultaneously from the left and right. A weapon lay before each of them—a bush knife and an ice pick—and they quickly snatched up the deadly armaments.
““How do you do, underclassman?””
“Wha—?”
The two brothers even spoke in sync as they swooped down on him. Kyousuke avoided the ice pick aimed for his eyeball but couldn’t entirely dodge the knife. The top of his left shoulder split open with a splash of fresh blood.
“Ooohhh, whoooaaa?! Ayako Nishikawa slits open that Mohawk bastard’s gut, Eiri Akabane nabs the shotgun, Douji Ikkoku takes on two first-year boys, and the three brothers begin a group beatdown! Kicking away weapons from all sides, Kyousuke Kamiya, alone in range of three opponents, gives us an unbelievable display of poweeeeeer!”
“I am Motoharu Yatsuzaki. Nice to meet you!”
The tall, large-bodied second sibling gave his name.
“I am Takakage Yatsuzaki. Nice to meet you!”
Thrusting out the ice pick, the short, slim youngest sibling gave his name.
“Greetings from me and my brothers. The three of us together are the Ripper Jacks. Our favorite hobby is tearing weaklings apart as a group… Our special skill is cleanly stripping humans of their flesh!”
The eldest—the medium-size brother—grinned, warping the skull that covered half his face. Using the shamshir like a scythe, he tried to slice Kyousuke’s left wrist.
“Tch—”
When Kyousuke leaped away, there was the ice pick. When he turned his head to avoid that, the bush knife was swinging downward at him. And then, again, the reversed shamshir flashed in the edge of his vision, moving in to block his path of retreat. Blood poured from Kyousuke’s wounds, and greasy sweat oozed from his forehead.
“Th-there it is—! All three members of the Ripper Jacks are plenty skilled, but when the three brothers work together, that’s when you see true terror! They’ll cut up their prey with their superior triple attack! When they commit crimes, it’s one minute of wonderment! It’s speed that would amaze you, even at a fast-food joint! Taking on three guys like this all at once… Will even Kamiya end up dead meat?! It’s a one-sided dissection show, yo, swoosh-shwoosh-swooooosh!”
The two blades and the ice pick swooped in on him from every direction, each following its own deadly path. The fierce attack was like being tumbled in a mixer. Kyousuke was soon scored with fresh wounds.
However, Kyousuke courageously refused to retreat. He weathered their assault, staying in range of the deadly weapons, looking for any opportunity to grab one. Gradually, the three brothers began to grow impatient.
“…You sure are stubborn, huh?”
“It’s already been one minute, big brother.”
“He hasn’t even suffered any major wounds. He’s stronger than I thought!”
As time passed, their synchronized onslaught grew ever more savage, but Kyousuke, covered in bloody wounds, just barely continued to keep up. One minute passed, then two, then three, then four…
“—Kyousuke!”
Eiri shouted from behind.
“““……?!”””
Instantly, Kyousuke jumped away from the three brothers, slipping out of range of their weapons. He had broken through forcefully, unconcerned by the many wounds he had sustained in the fight. Turning on his heel, he ran home to his class’s encampment.
“…Welcome back. You’re in bad shape, huh.”
Eiri greeted Kyousuke nonchalantly as he barely returned with his life intact. At her feet were the shotgun, the wooden board, the whip, the hand grenade, the sledge hammer, and the war fan.
Next to them, Kitou and Kousaka sat on the ground, their faces swollen here and there, their breathing ragged. Mohawk was—
“Gyah-ha-ha! It’s an easy victory, gyah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“O-oh…is it? G-good work…”
Holding a shortsword dripping with blood and fat in one hand, Mohawk threw his head back and laughed loudly. Pink entrails spilled from his split belly, but he didn’t seem to care at all.
“…Hahh.” Eiri let out a sigh. “Never mind the bastard who doesn’t know how to die—good work to you, too. You held out well on your own… I wasn’t sure whether or not to come help you in the middle of things.”
“Ha-ha-ha… I just wanted to snatch up one or two weapons if I could, you know?”
Defending against the three brothers’ attacks had left Kyousuke’s body covered in a score of cuts and slashes. They were nearly all shallow scratches, so he didn’t think they would cause any difficulties in the following matches, but…
Kyousuke smiled bitterly. It would probably be better for them to try to take the offensive from now on.
“…Idiot. If you throw your life away, there’s no point, is there? Geez… Maybe you would be better off dead!”
After glaring at him reproachfully, Eiri turned away sharply.
While Kyousuke had taken on the Ripper Jacks, the rest of his class had outnumbered their opponents four to two. Eiri had led them in pressing their advantage, and they had quickly collected many weapons.
The two other upperclassmen lay sprawled out on the ground. Set upon by four opponents, they had been able to grab only the metal bat.
“…Oh man. We were too enthusiastic about hunting him, huh, big brother?”
“Yes. In the end, we didn’t even get him, though. It’s frustrating, right?”
“Frustrating…but enjoyable in its own way. He is prey that’s worth hunting, wouldn’t you say…? Heh-heh.”
Eventually, the three brothers finished carrying their weapons back, and a gunshot rang out.
“Finiiiiiish, that’s game over! The total for weapons collected sits at four versus seven, meaning it’s the first-years’ victory! The three brothers may have overwhelmed Kyousuke Kamiya with their teamwork, but it looks like, by working with his classmates, he is the real winnerrrrrr!”
“Yes, indeed. It’s important to play as a team… And with that said, next is the second round. It’s a matchup between first-year Class B and second-year Class B, but Miss Haruyo is still in the infirmary… Can the second-years really compete with their star player absent?”
Without Haruyo, second-year Class B lost to first-year Class B. Then, third-year Class B won a narrow victory over third-year Class A, though two students were sent to the infirmary by Shamaya’s furious strength. And after that—
They had come to the Poison Bread Russian Roulette, which resembled a scene from a Buddhist hell.
“Buh?!” “Ah, guh… What is this, this flavor… My body is numb, I can’t mov—” “Ah-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga?!” “Cough, cough…uwee…pah…hah, hah…o-ow—” “Ohhhhhh—?!” “……Twitch, twitch.”
Half of the students who ate the curry bread collapsed, fell into labored breathing, shuddered with intense convulsions, grasped their stomachs, vomited profusely, writhed around on the ground, and eventually stopped twitching.
“Poisoned bread? Ha-ha, that’s not so scary!”
“Hee-hee-hee…not compared to Eiri’s disgusting home cooking…hee-hee-hee!”
Oonogi and Usami fortunately survived their enthusiastic participation, while those stricken by the poisonous bread met a miserable end.
The stench of vomit and excrement hung in the air over the befouled grounds, a ghastly sea of blood completing the grotesque spectacle.
“N-no way…” Kurisu held her hands clamped over her
mouth.
Beside her, Busujima, who had put the poison in the curry bread, scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed. “Oh dear, and here I thought I had diluted the poison quite a bit… Perhaps allowing it to ferment increased its potency. I did fill the bread with the curry that Miss Igarashi made during the Summer Death Camp.”
“……Igarashi?”
“Yes. First-year Class A, Maina Igarashi.”
“—Huh? Huuuuuuhhh?!” Maina, who had been huddled up in a ball in the spectators’ seats, jumped up at the sudden revelation. Everyone’s gaze fixed on her at once. “Oh no… Th-this is the first I’ve heard of it.”
Ignoring Maina’s sudden pallor, Busujima continued with his detailed explanation.
“She has an incredible talent, doesn’t she? Rumor has it that any food prepared by Miss Igarashi becomes a deadly toxin. Even I can’t figure out how, though… She certainly is an enigma. Of course, if you open that Pandora’s box…well, you can certainly see the results for yourselves. They don’t call her Black Pandora for nothing, after all.”
“““”””
An indescribable atmosphere drifted over the stench-filled grounds. Terror and bewilderment, confusion and curiosity… Everyone was focused on Maina, who had yet to participate in even a single event.
“Eee?! E-e-e-e-e-everyone’s looking at me! Oh nooo…”
“It’s all right—calm down.”
“Don’t worry. We’re with you!”
Eiri and Kyousuke frantically tried to comfort their classmate.
Meanwhile, from the first-year Class B bleachers, Reiko surreptitiously looked her over. “……Hmm? What an interesting trait.”
Suddenly the center of attention, Maina was at her wits’ end.
And then—
The sixth competition, the Seek-and-Destroy Challenge, was, like the Calamity Arms Race, an event that Kurumiya had described as a “do-or-die moment.”
After running half of a two-hundred-meter track, the competitors would find six cards lying facedown. Each player would turn over one card and name one student from the class that was written on it. Then they would attempt to murder that student and drag them to the goal. Other students were not permitted to interfere. Hunter and hunted had to face each other alone.
The students selected for the event were—
Lane 1 Takaya Kiriu (Third-year Class B) Rank: A+
Lane 2 Takamoto Yatsuzaki (Second-year Class A) Rank: A
Lane 3 Eiri Akabane (First-year Class A)
Lane 4 Renko Hikawa (First-year Class B) Rank: C+
Lane 5 Haruyo Gevaudan Tanaka (Second-year Class B) Rank: S
Lane 6 Saki Shamaya (Third-year Class A) Rank: S
Every class had sent out its most elite competitor.
“…Hmph.” Eiri snorted and looked at her neighbor to the right. “So you finally came out to play, eh, Renko? You still have your gas mask on, but…are you all right?”
“‘Tch…not really.’”
“…Huh? This is no time for your poor imitations.”
“‘…Huh? This is no time for your poor imitations.’”
“Shut up. Don’t mimic me, boob girl.”
“‘Shut up. Don’t mimic me, tiny tits.’”
“I thought I told you not to imitate me?! Just die already!”
“‘I thought I told you not to imitate me?! Just die already!’”
“……I’ll kill you.”
Eiri seethed with anger as Renko jokingly parroted her words back at her. Her unmotivated demeanor made a complete about-face, and she began to limber up.
“Kksshh. Yeah, yeah, now you’re talking!” Renko was delighted.
Haruyo, who had just returned from the infirmary, gave Renko a wide berth. “Th-this one wears a gas mask, too, hmm… I want to get my revenge, but I’m not in peak physical condition yet. It’s probably prudent not to rush into a reckless attack…”
On Haruyo’s right, Shamaya was also looking nervously toward Renko. “Th-that’s right. Best not to wake the sleeping beast.”
On the opposite side, Kiriu and Takamoto stood silently.
* * *
Before long—
The instant that the match started, first-year Class A leaped to the top spot.
“Whoa?! Sh-she’s faaaaaast! What incredible speed! Eiri Akabane, leaving the upperclassmen behind with an ultra-acceleration starting daaash! She got to the card in under ten seconds?!”
“…Fwah. Too easy. This is boring!” Eiri yawned as she looked back at the competition. Shamaya, Haruyo, Kiriu, and Takamoto were all trying to fight one another as they raced. Renko, meanwhile, had taken a spectacular dive after Eiri tripped her up, so she had gotten a really late start.
Eiri smiled triumphantly as she turned over one of the cards. “Huh? This is—!” For a moment, she was at a loss for words. After taking a long hard look at the card she had turned over, she held it up.
“First-year Class A.”
“““…………Huh?””” Kyousuke and the others, who were waiting in the bleachers ready to attack, were stunned.
“““Whaaat?!””” Shamaya and the other competitors were also shocked.
Kurisu clapped her hands. “Ohh, nice reaction!”
“I see, so it’s possible for someone to choose their own class… Can she redraw?”
“Nope, according to the rules, there’s no problem. It’s fine for her to continue.”
“Mm—” Eiri held her tongue, blushing and fidgeting.
“Well, well then… Kyousuke Kamiya? Kyousuke should…”
She designated Kyousuke, as if she was delivering a confession of love.
“Wooo!” Kurisu yelled.
From the cheering sections of the other classes, other voices called, “““Let’s blow. It. UP!”””
Eiri was bright red all the way out to her ears, and with her head hanging low, she rushed over to the bleachers. “Ah, come on, shut up… H-hey! Let’s go, Kyousuke! Be good and let me…h-hunt you down!”
“O-oh…” Kyousuke took her outstretched hand, and the two ran off together.
Meanwhile, the upperclassmen who had turned over their cards after Eiri were intent on hunting their chosen prey.
“…………What the hell is that?” Complaining, Renko turned over the last card. A sigh escaped with a kksshh from the exhaust port of her gas mask.
“Third-year Class A, Saki Shamaya!”
“—What?” Shamaya, who had been about to rush down on a female student wearing a flour sack on her head in the first-year bleachers, suddenly stiffened. Timidly, she turned to look at Renko. “Eh? M-me…you say?”
“Yep, that’s right! I’m coming to hunt you. I’m all worked up, you know… I think a little murder will be great for letting off some steam, eh?”
“Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-what the—? This first-year has chosen, of all people, Killing Maniaaa! Hey-hey-hey-hey…what the hell, has she got a death wish or something? If she gets too carried away, she’s bound to get herself killed! HA-HA-HA-HA!” Kurisu burst into maniacal laughter at Renko’s declaration of war.
The upperclassmen jeered at Renko along with her and cheered for Shamaya. “Ah-ha-ha-ha, what an idiot! She’s a hard-core idiot!” “Should we say that she’s a daredevil or that she doesn’t know her place…?” “She’s dead, that first-year.” “No need to hold back! Kill ’er, Shamaya!” “Beat her at her own game!” “You should destroy her big breasts.” “Wreck. Her. Shit! Wreck. Her. Shit!”
On the other hand, Shamaya herself was—
“Ee-eek?! No, th-that’s…e-e-e-e-e-everyone? I-I’m the chair of the Public Morals Committee, am I not? I could n-n-n-n-n-never use such violence…toward a n-new s-s-s-student! Therefore, um…umm…um, ah, aaaaaahhh…”
Trying desperately to preserve her dignity, Shamaya frantically searched her surroundings for an escape route. However, as Renko drew closer, she sank to the ground, overwhelmed by terror.
“Gyaaaaaahhh?! I won’t resist
, I won’t resiiiiiist! Don’t hurt me! B-be gentle…ee…eeaaahhh, oh myyyyyyyyy?!”
“U-ummm…th-that’s our Public Morals Committee chair, all right! If her right cheek is struck, she offers the left one, and if she’s hit on the head, she offers her ass. She’s overwhelming the new student with her generosity! H-how kind… You’re too kind, Saki Shamaya! ‘Nothing is so strong as gentleness, and nothing is so gentle as real strength’—that’s how the saying goes, and surely that’s the case here, folks!! She’s the paragon of generosity, the embodiment of generosity, the personification of generosity! That is to say, the strongest? You’re the strongest!”
Renko was dragging a thoroughly exhausted Shamaya around by her hair. Forcing herself to commend the spectacle, Kurisu applauded, “Woooooooonnnnnnnnnderful!”
Shamaya’s wildly enthusiastic followers also applauded with her, though it wasn’t clear they entirely understood what was going on.
Kurisu wiped the sweat from her brow. “…Phew. Murder Princess has many fans, huh…? Oh geez, stay focused on the broadcast, Kurisu… Ooooookay everyone! Next up is the second half of the competition! And just like in the first half, each class has chosen their best warrior!! I’ll introduce them; in lane one is—”
“It’s meeeeeeeeeeee, gyah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“FUUUUUUUUUUCK!” Making a throat-cutting gesture, Kurisu pointed her thumb toward the ground. “I told you, don’t interrupt the broadcast—! Don’t you ever learn, you chicken-headed shitbird?! And what’s with the speedy resurrection, you immortal bastard!! Die!”
His split belly had already been stitched up. He really was a tough guy.
The female student in lane two snorted “…Hmph” at Mohawk, who was acting cool in the same way as always. “Don’t yell, underclassman! But then, I guess even that grating roar of yours will change into a death wail before too long…so go ahead—do your best to raise hell, you cocky, weak bastard!”
Murder Machine and the Catastrophic Athletic Festival Page 10