Chapter 135: Shin-san and Sazare-san

The pebble witch, who lives in Suginami Ward, Tokyo, is a purebred shut-in.

She rarely sees sunlight, but she has her own ways of sensing the seasons.

Yes—through subculture events.

When manga magazine covers are filled with heroines in swimsuits, she feels summer. When winter comes, doujinshi about Christmas and New Year flood the scene. In autumn—the season of appetite—collaboration café events tend to increase.

After enjoying the excitement of early spring April Fool’s events and successfully pre-ordering a rainy-season limited figure from a popular manga, the pebble witch had recently been bored.

There was still plenty of time before the summer doujin convention, and it wasn’t yet time to start working on manuscripts.

There were no upcoming events that excited her, no promising new manga series, and even the movie lineup was underwhelming.

Even the Phantom Mage who usually kept her company was busy dealing with the “Hatobato incidents” and was stuck working at the Ministry of Defense.

That said, the pebble witch had spent over a hundred years as a dedicated otaku. Even when bored, she could always find something to do.

One of her standard pastimes was translating manga imported from India, the United States, and China for her own enjoyment.

Compared to Japan, foreign manga culture was smaller in scale—but there were definitely gems. Works rooted in other cultures possessed a brilliance that couldn’t be replicated in Japan.

Lately, she had been especially interested in a Chinese “female immortal”… or rather, a succubus-aligned witch, who drew extremely explicit erotic manga.

Transcendents were all influenced, to some degree, by their “archetype,” and succubi in particular were strongly affected emotionally—something that showed clearly in their creative works.

Transcendents mutated in accordance with figures from the Nameless Epic.

The Dragon Witch had developed strange speech patterns and reduced intelligence. The Hell Witch used to struggle with intense cannibalistic urges.

Just last year, the pebble witch had heard rumors about the Flame Witch and burst out laughing—apparently that serious, uptight girl had secretly awakened to some outrageous, niche fetish that made her “thin books” very thick.

The Chinese succubus, as far as confirmed, was the second generation of the succubus archetype. Like her predecessor, she chased the phantom of the Hero Talquea due to the influence of her archetype. Unlike her predecessor, however, she had been a succubus from birth—so the influence was even stronger.

It was well known in certain circles that transcendents could feel specific emotions toward particular individuals.

Hero Conrad hated those of the Iruma archetype, and the Mighty-Arm Mage reportedly burst into tears upon meeting Saint Lushe.

Closer to home, the Phantom Mage apparently broke into a cold sweat and suffered palpitations and dizziness whenever he saw a portrait of the Eyeball Witch. The pebble witch suspected a connection between the Eyeball Witch’s “transparency perception” and the Phantom Mage’s “transparent body.”

Hero Talquea—believed to be the protagonist of the Nameless Epic—had many titles: the Rustic One, the Adventurer, the King, the Returned One, the Guiding Sword, and more, appearing across various incantations. He must have been an extraordinary figure.

Even the pebble witch herself felt a vague sense of comfort just from the sound of the name “Talquea,” so she had no objection to the theory that he was the central figure of both the epic and the transcendents. It simply felt right.

Among transcendents, succubi in particular bore overwhelmingly heavy emotions toward Hero Talquea. Their feelings were so strong that, albeit vaguely, they even dreamed about him.

In other words, they were born hopelessly in love with someone they had never even met.

At present, no transcendent of the “Talquea archetype” had been discovered.

Perhaps one existed in some remote region outside major civilization networks (like the King of Eromanga Island), or perhaps one was being kept as a closely guarded national secret (like the assassin of the Irish Union).

Either way, Talquea’s whereabouts remained unknown, and the succubus was left with her overwhelming, unfulfilled love.

And so, the outrageously explicit erotic manga depicting Succubus × Hero, created by pouring all that excessive emotion into it, was—unsurprisingly—astonishing.

Even the pebble witch, who had grown up in Japan, the great nation of erotic manga, was deeply shocked and impressed.

Even the spells succubi remembered reflected their intense inclinations:

• Arousal spell: “Entrust your body to your heart” 
• Gender-change spell: “If it’s man and man, it’s not cheating” 
• Age-disguise spell: “I’ll become your little sister” 
• Fake-crying spell: “If you don’t give me vitality soon, I’ll die” 
• Self-destruct spell: “Don’t forget me” 

From these incantations alone, one could see glimpses of their overwhelming feelings toward Hero Talquea. No wonder these “lewd spells” (except the self-destruct one) were standard equipment in brothels worldwide.

True to their name, succubi were embodiments of eroticism.

While diligently translating the succubus’s manga—and even drafting a fan letter—the pebble witch suddenly felt something strange and stopped her pen.

Her base had once been a manga café, but now she had bought up the surrounding land and occupied a vast area in the city. Dozens of golems patrolled as guards, eliminating intruders in her stead.

But now, her connections to those patrolling golems were being severed one after another.

Even for the pebble witch, who had lived over a hundred years, this was a first.

She had experienced her golems being wiped out by powerful area magic.

She had experienced them being reduced to dirt by dispelling magic.

But this—this was something entirely different.

“What a pain…”

Even though she genuinely felt annoyed, her voice came out flat and emotionless.

She might be a shut-in, but that didn’t mean she cowered from threats.

To identify whatever was neutralizing her golems in such a bizarre way and approaching her entrance, the NEET sluggishly rose to her feet.

Hooking the sliding door open with her foot in an unrefined manner, the pebble witch froze the moment she saw the elderly gentleman standing there.

A black fedora.

An elegant beige coat.

A cane-like magic staff.

Though she should have had no memory of him, she felt a strange familiarity—like meeting her father after a long time.

“…Ah, young lady, please take this.”

As she stared at him suspiciously, the old gentleman awkwardly averted his gaze, removed his coat, and offered it to her.

“What?”

“I am told such customs do not exist in Japan. Regardless of one’s self-identified species, one should not appear before others in undergarments. It is improper.”

“Oh. Right. Forgot.”

Only then did the pebble witch recall what she was wearing.

It was admittedly careless—but hardly worth fussing over.

Until about ten years ago, she had been such an extreme shut-in that she lived naked at home. Only after the Phantom Mage visited and scolded her into wearing underwear did she start doing so. Wearing clothes was a hassle unless it was cosplay.

Still, she wasn’t so jaded as to reject his kindness. She accepted the coat and put it on, after which the gentleman cleared his throat and finally met her eyes.

“…Hmm. I see. Well, I’m glad to see you’re in good health.”

“Yeah. Who are you?”

She already had a rough idea based on his manner, appearance, and dramatic entrance—but asked anyway.

The gentleman removed his hat and gave a graceful bow.

“Forgive my sudden visit. I have no shame in my name or actions. However, I do not wish to flaunt my identity and cause trouble.”

“I won’t report you or anything. If you won’t give your name, I’ll just call you Shin-san, the gentleman.”

“Very well. Then I shall call you the pebble witch.”

“My friends call me Sazare-san.”

After exchanging names, silence fell between them.

Shin gazed at her with deep emotion, while Sazare tilted her head at the neatly kneeling golems lined up behind him.

They hadn’t been destroyed or dispelled—he had hacked and taken control of them.

As expected of someone from a magical civilization.

He was also a person of interest suspected of unprecedented mass killings.

Even the Blue Witch had described him as “possessing immense power.” If he wished, he could easily annihilate someone like Sazare.

And yet—she didn’t feel he was dangerous.

If anything, she felt an inexplicable certainty that he would always be on her side.

She knew she should ask why he had come—but it felt trivial.

He had probably just come to check on her.

He was kind… at least to her—or to beings like her.

Then she remembered something she needed to apologize for.

If she said nothing, he’d probably never find out. But if he did someday, it would be unbearable.

Should she say it… or not?

“…Um. Hey.”

“Yes?”

After hesitating, she fidgeted with the hem of the coat and spoke.

“I’ve got something to apologize for.”

“…Hmm. I can guess what it is, but there’s no need to apologize. No one would blame you.”

“What are you talking about? I was just gonna tell you I made a BL doujin about you and Vampire.”

Shin tilted his head in complete confusion.

“…That was not what I imagined at all. BL…?”

“BL means Boys’ Love. Basically, I’ve always interpreted your relationship with Vampire as a ‘love through killing’ thing. So I made Vampire the top and you the bottom and drew a doujin. That was before I thought you actually existed, but still… felt kinda bad. I regret it now.”

“…????? How peculiar. My translation magic should be functioning normally…”

Seeing his blank expression, Sazare carefully explained.

Subculture enriches life. Not knowing what BL means means you’re missing out on at least 5% of life.

After about an hour of beginner-level BL education at the doorway, Shin looked utterly exhausted.

“I understand… no, I have come to understand. Well, how should I put it… in any case, I’m glad you are well. Yes. Though… perhaps somewhat unhealthy.”

“You weren’t listening. If you actually understood, you wouldn’t call it unhealthy.”

“M-my apologies. Ah—actually, I’m quite busy, so I’m glad I could check on you today. Regrettably, I must take my leave.”

As Shin hurriedly began manipulating magic through his staff, Sazare firmly grabbed his shoulder.

His face twitched.

“You’re not leaving. I hate people who half-understand otaku culture and think they get it. I’ll explain it properly until you do. Sit down.”

“I must decline. Excuse me!”

With that, Shin turned into golden particles and rose into the sky, disappearing.

Looking up, Sazare clicked her tongue in frustration. He had escaped. Control of the golems had also returned.

“…Ah. Damn it. I should’ve asked which one was top and which was bottom.”

Realizing this too late, she was stunned.

That had been a once-in-a-lifetime chance to hear directly whether it was “Vampire × Puppeteer” or “Puppeteer × Vampire.”

A fatal mistake.

After sulking for a while, she pulled herself together and returned to her lair.

A strange visitor—but also a meaningful one.

Her boredom was over.

She now had material for the next Summer Comiket.

And so, the terrifying witch who would turn any relationship she fancied into a doujin without mercy picked up her pen with enthusiasm in her dim, comfortable workspace—to create a dramatic, entirely fabricated love-hate story about a globally wanted dangerous individual.