“Tee-hee. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, does it?”
Mockery. Humming a cheerful tune, Ayaka unwrapped a cloth bundle to reveal a shotgun. Loosening the choke and adjusting her grip, Ayaka leveled the gun with both hands.
“…Oh my?” Shamaya’s eyes opened wide as she noticed Ayaka, but she was already too late.
“Bye-bye, whore.”
Without the slightest hesitation, Ayaka pulled the trigger. Shotgun shells exploded from the muzzle of the gun, striking the venomous creatures along with Shamaya and the other competitors.
“Kyaaah, oh myyy?!” “What the?” “Ah…ah…”
“My friiiiiieeeeeendssssss?!”
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Ayaka fired wildly. Twice, three times, four times, five times, six times, seven times—Flesh burst open and blood sprayed everywhere in the pit.
Ayaka never stopped grinning maniacally. “Ah-ha, ah-ha-ah-ha, ah-ha-ha…ah, that was fun! Obstacle race? What’s that? Ayaka will take care of anything in her way! What an idiot…tee-hee. A real idiot!”
“A-Ayaka…”
Lowering the gun, Ayaka walked on, kicking through the carcasses of the venomous creatures. Shamaya, covered in blood, both her own and others’, stared at the girl in shock.
But the younger Kamiya simply smiled happily. “Oh good, you survived! We would have lost points if I had killed you, and I wouldn’t have been able to graduate together with my big brother. I really went easy on you, you know? You should be grateful for Ayaka’s kindness. But—”
Ayaka’s smile abruptly disappeared, and she turned her head. Her lightless eyes looked at Motoharu, who was staring intensely up at Ayaka from where he lay prostrate on the ground in a corner of the blood-soaked pit.
“You really did it, underclassman…”
Ayaka slowly approached Motoharu, who had likewise not sustained any serious injuries. She crushed a centipede that was wriggling and squirming on the ground, its body halfway torn to pieces, underfoot. “You’re the one who did it! During the Calamity Arms Race, you inflicted quite a few injuries on Ayaka’s precious older brother, didn’t you? Tee-hee… I won’t forgive you. Let me give you your ‘reward’ now. Any last words?”
“Nn—”
“If not, then please die.” Ayaka spun the shotgun around and, with all her strength, smashed downward with the butt of the heavy weapon.
—Crunch!
The gun stock caved in the bridge of Motoharu’s nose.
“This is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this is for my brother, and this—” Ayaka struck him again and again.
Finally, she lowered the firearm. Motoharu moved no more; the middle of his face was a palette of gore. Ayaka nodded with satisfaction and resumed walking. She swung her arms and even skipped as she cheerfully traipsed through the Poison Hell.
“…………”
Busujima stared into the distance. His beloved pets had been slaughtered once again.
Casually, Ayaka arrived at the sixth obstacle, Antidote Candy, and calmly searched for candy among a pile of white powder. Since she was not poisoned, she had no reason to hurry.
“Wh-what a terrifying girl… Just as I would expect of darling Kyousuke’s younger sister…” Having finally regained her footing, Shamaya moved forward, dragging her wounded body onward.
“Ah…ah…” Abashiri, the male student from second-year Class B who had nearly been killed by Shamaya, also eventually rose and started to stagger forward.
Motoharu stayed where he had fallen.
“Fu… I finally made it back, shit. It’s seriously asking for trouble to piss off that bitch.—Wait, ooohhh! What’s that?! What happened?! What the hell went down while I was away from my seat… Heeey, Mr. Busujima? Busujimaaa, keep it tooogeeetheeer!!”
“Here’s the sash. I fought hard, right, big brother? Eh-heh-heh.”
“O-oh…”
Ayaka, whose face was covered in red, handed over the sash with a beaming smile. Kyousuke, who was the fourth runner for their class, accepted it, mouth twitching.
“Don’t kill anyone, and don’t get killed by anyone.” Although Ayaka had just barely managed to stay within the bounds of the graduation conditions Kurumiya had imposed on them, he still thought she had probably gotten a little carried away…
“Kyousuke Kamiya’s little sister, huh…? I will not fail to get my revenge on you. You must be prepared for that.”
“Tee-hee! But Ayaka will be sure to give you what’s coming to you, okay?”
A dangerous aura hung over Takamoto Yatsuzaki, the fourth runner for second-year Class A, but for now he ran off, prioritizing the match.
Ayaka had managed to secure first place—and there was surely no way that things would turn around at the last moment.
“Okay, leaving Mr. Busujima aside for the time being… Well, the first event of the afternoon, the Unhinged Obstacle Course, is in its final stages, and currently in top place is first-year Class A! Already they’ve handed the sash off to their anchor, Kyousuke Kamiya! The next group, third-year Class A, has just now finally finished with the Antidote Candy! Third-year Class B is having a little trouble with that obstacle. Meanwhile, second-year Class B has also arrived at the candy! Second-year Class A is still down and isn’t getting up! Could this be where they drop ooouuut?! And in last place, first-year Class B is still in the Dead Sea Pool. Sooo slooow!”
As Kurisu, who had returned to the MC booth, continued shouting, Kyousuke reached the seventh obstacle. Monkey Bars Minefield—at a glance they looked like ordinary monkey bars, but a large number of mines were buried in the ground, and if students lost their grips and fell, they would instantly go boom.
“……Okay.”
He hesitated for several seconds, preparing himself. Then, Kyousuke leaped for the monkey bars with both hands. With about twenty yards to cross, he took the bars three at a time. Sweat oozed from his palms as he thought about the mines right below his feet, but he continued forward, being very careful not to slip.
“Bombs away, you fucking normie!”
“……Hmm?”
When Kyousuke had reached the halfway point, the combatant from third-year Class A arrived at the monkey bars. That male student, with black hair, black eyes, and a plain appearance, glared at Kyousuke with an antagonistic look. For some reason, he was holding a traffic cone in his hands.
“Surrounded by cute girls, flirting and making out day after day, it’s a fucking slap in the face! I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to hear you, I don’t want you to exist in this world, so die! Die a gruesome, outrageous death! Die-die-die-die, blow up and die! Blow up, you fucking normie!”
The boy clenched his teeth and stomped his feet in a fit of hysterics. Kyousuke didn’t know him at all, but his rage seemed to be a little too intense and a little too focused for ordinary homicidal anger.
“No, wait! I don’t even get what you’re so upset about—”
“Explooooooode!”
In a fit of frothing rage, the shrieking newcomer threw the traffic cone. It soared toward the minefield, tracing an arc through the air before landing on the ground below Kyousuke’s feet.
“Wha—?”
An ear-piercing roar rocked the festival grounds.
“Waaaaaahhh?!”
Kyousuke closed his eyes against the force of the blast as he was battered by hot wind and surrounded by a cloud of dust.
“Th-there it is—! The infamous jealousy of Takuo Yonekura, the Demon Bomber, has exploded onto the scene, and he’s launched an assault on the ever-popular Kamiya! This guy is famous for blowing up couples attending holiday illuminations. He’s known for hating anyone with a happy life! What an indiscriminate killer! He’s the embodiment of jealousyyyyyy!”
“D-dangerous… What�
�s with that guy? This is not good.” Kyousuke had managed to quickly cover his ear with one hand and narrowly escape the brunt of the blast. Now he shuddered with fear.
Yonekura, meanwhile, had somehow managed to grow even more angry after missing with his first attack. Readying a bow and arrow he had apparently acquired during the Calamity Arms Race, he took aim at Kyousuke.
“Blow up and die, blow up, blow up, die, die, blow up, die-die-die-die-dieeeeeee!”
“Geh?!”
This is bad! Kyousuke, who was hanging from the monkey-bar rungs, was almost entirely defenseless. To make matters worse, there was a minefield below him. There was no way he would survive being shot by the bow.
“This time, for sure! Dieeeeee, yooouuu fucking normieeeeeeeee!”
“Tch—”
With his back to Yonekura, Kyousuke tried to cross the monkey bars as quickly as possible.
“Gugyah?!” Yonekura abruptly shouted.
“Stop your futile attack. There are those who you can kill and those you should not.”
“……Wha?”
Kyousuke paused, turning to look at the voice behind him.
A male student fully kitted out in jet-black riot gear now held the bow and arrow in his hand. Yonekura lay at his feet, face crushed beneath black combat boots.
“That was close, wasn’t it, Kyousuke? It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Takaya Kiriu. I serve as vice-chair to the Public Morals Committee. My job is to punish hoodlums like this.” With a smile, Kiriu kicked Yonekura away.
“Gya?!” Yonekura grunted.
Kiriu threw the archery set in the opposite direction, away from Yonekura and toward the spectators’ seats, then jumped up on the monkey bars. Still smiling, he quickly advanced on Kyousuke.
“Wha—?”
“Ha-ha, wait up!” Kiriu called to Kyousuke, who had begun to flee as fast as he could, hounded by an indescribable feeling of dread. “I don’t mean you any harm!”
But Kyousuke did not stop. He remembered Takaya Kiriu, of third-year Class B. According to Kurumiya’s list, his danger rank was A+.
Kiriu, called the Honorable Enforcer and Under Oath, lived by the maxim “Harm should befall those who do harm.” He was a serial killer who had murdered six people who he had decided were “wicked.”
He almost certainly did not have an especially high opinion of Kyousuke, who was supposed to have killed twelve people. Not to mention that they were in the middle of a match right now. Kyousuke had absolutely no inclination to wait around obediently.
“…Hmm? I wonder why you’re running away. Could it be that you…that you’re harboring some secret guilt?! I see—that must be why you run! You seemed like a virtuous underclassman, so I thought that you must have had some valid excuse, but apparently I was mistakeeen?! You crooked scoundrel, I shall punish you!”
“Huh?!”
Kiriu’s narrowed eyes opened suddenly, and his posture completely changed. His gentle expression became angry, and he pursued Kyousuke with savage resolve.
“Waaaaaait!”
“No way!”
“Why not?! Do you fear judgment?!”
“I fear you! You’re honestly pretty scary! Plus, I mean, we’re in the middle of a match and everything—”
“That’s no excuuuuuuse!”
“It’s no good—you’re not making any sense!”
As Kyousuke had expected, there was no reasoning with a killer who believed himself to be the sole source of absolute justice in the world. Mindful of his sweaty hands, Kyousuke made a careful but hasty escape across the Monkey Bars Minefield and onward to the next obstacle.
In his path, towering over everything, was the thirty-foot-tall Wall of Death. He leaped toward it, grabbed a rope, and started climbing, followed by a raucous cacophony.
“Reward good and punish evil! Suppress evil and elevate good! Violence against impurity and elevate purity! Waaaaaaiiit!”
“Explode the normie, kill the fucking normie, annihilate the goddamn motherfucking normieeeeeeeeeeee!”
“Kyaaa, Kyousuke! Kyousukeeeeee, I like you! I love youuu!”
Kiriu and the recently revived Yonekura had been joined by a female student in a purple happi coat—it was an upperclassman girl who had some time ago confessed her love to him behind the school building with a knife in her hand, saying, “Please go out with me!” Her amorous pursuit only enraged Yonekura further. All three were hot on his tail.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiit!”
“Eee?! If they catch me, I’m a dead man! I’ve got to get out of here…”
Fighting vertigo, Kyousuke cleared the top of the three-story-tall wall and began to descend the other side, taking care not to fall. Suddenly, a new spectacle caught his eye, making him doubt his senses.
“……?!”
Kyousuke could see the fourth competitor for first-year Class B, Renji Hikawa, tearing across the monkey bars.
This is bad, Kyousuke thought to himself and started to rush madly down the wall.
—The next moment, the world shook.
“Waaaaaahhh?! Wh-what the?!”
Boom, boom, booom!
The wall swayed but remained standing, and Kyousuke clung to the rope in confusion. The tremor, which was just like an earthquake, continued for about twenty seconds, before—
“……Huh?”
—Kyousuke suddenly found himself floating through a field of blue, body outstretched in the open air. Somewhere far away, Kurisu was shouting, but her furious broadcast did not reach his ears. Gradually, an object filled his vision: the twisted, broken Wall of Death, turned upside down, and—
“…………Kksshh.”
An ivory-white gas mask, belonging to the person who had apparently destroyed the wall with his terrible strength and crossed to the other side.
“Wha—?”
Kyousuke scarcely had time to be astonished, as gravity suddenly gripped his body, dragging him earthward—he was still about two stories above the ground.
“Guh?!”
Kyousuke pulled himself into a crash position, lessening the considerable impact of his landing. He managed to haul himself up into a low crouch just in time to see the battered Wall of Death crash down in an immense cloud of dust, sending another earthquake reverberating across the festival grounds.
The fate of the other three competitors was uncertain. They had all been in the midst of climbing after Kyousuke, so they were likely now pinned under the collapsed wall. No groans or other noises were audible.
“……Awful.”
“A-absurd……”
Kurisu had dropped her microphone, and Kyousuke was taken aback. The students who had been watching the match were also all bewildered, and the festival grounds were in an uproar.
“Run! Kyousuke, ruuuuuun!”
Eiri’s urgent shout cut through the chaos just as Kyousuke’s field of vision was suddenly darkened by an enormous shadow. Sensing a presence behind him, Kyousuke immediately rolled to the side. A hard fist hit the ground where his head had been just a moment before.
“Kuh—”
It was not over with just one attack. Left and right fists crashed down, one after another like a sudden rain, as Kyousuke frantically rolled away. Each and every strike was aimed at his head—the hail of blows was meant to utterly destroy him. Those fists had just a moment ago demolished an enormous wooden wall—a direct hit would surely crush his skull to dust. A shiver ran up Kyousuke’s spine.
“…………”
In contrast, Renji was silent as always. There was no expression in his ivory-white gas mask, there was no emotion in his dispassionate movements, there was no mercy in his powerful fists. He was just like a machine…
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiit! What?! What the hell is with that gas mask guuuuuuyyy?! He closed the gap to first place in an instant, buried the competition under a wall, and now he’s even trying to kill the sole survivor, Kamiya! He’s an ultra-grade monnnnnnster! How can a creature like that possibly exist?! It’s
not fair, it’s not fair; the gods must have made a mistake when they were handing out abilities?! Well, how are you going to get out of this one, Kamiya, with a monstrous opponent whose very existence defies all sanity?! Will you be killed in cold blood like all the other victims?!”
“Not if I can help it—!” Kyousuke yelled. Twisting his sand-covered body, he ducked, barely avoiding Renji’s fist, and looked past his attacker. If this were a straightforward brawl in an open arena, he probably wouldn’t stand a chance, but—
“Whoaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
“…………?!”
Sliding under another punch, Kyousuke broke into a run. Slipping past the enormous obstacle in his way, he headed for the goal. He launched his body into the safety zone that awaited him just a few dozen yards ahead.
—Baang! Immediately after, the gunshot indicating the end of the match rang out.
“GOOOOOOOOOOAL! From first-year Class A, Kyousuke Kamiya escapes his gas mask–wearing assailant and narrowly makes it to the finish line! Athletic festival rules forbid violence outside of a match. Saved by the goal tape, Kamiya’s first-year Class A takes the first victory of the afternoon! The gas mask guy who failed to kill him looks annoyed somehow!”
“…………Kksshh.”
Staring at Kyousuke, who had rolled over the finish line, Renji let out a faint rush of exhaust. Straightening up, he walked toward Kyousuke, coming to a stop just a short distance away.
“Wh-what do you want?”
“……………………”
He looked down at Kyousuke, who was still trembling slightly, then abruptly turned his ivory-white gas mask away and passed by without saying anything.
And so Kyousuke and the other members of first-year Class A took the first victory of the afternoon matches. The pain continued, however, in the following events.
Explosion Tug-of-War forced two classes to compete over a field of landmines. ’Til Death Do Us Part was a three-legged race that shackled the teams together with manacles. And the Group Ball-Toss Rave saw the students raging to the explosive sounds of electro-core music, as if raving and ra•ing, as they enthusiastically played the ball-toss game…
Murder Machine and the Catastrophic Athletic Festival Page 13