Chapter 66: If You Dare Say “We Have Nothing, But We Have Nature,” I’ll Hang You Upside Down
“Listen carefully. I’m not saying that every time you try to revitalize a village you need to obsessively run the PDCA cycle over and over. That’s not my point. But simply saying, ‘We tried it, and somehow it worked,’ doesn’t improve anything. More importantly, trying to revive a village through fake superstitions is fundamentally flawed from the planning stage onward. Sure, maybe your haunted-village act earned you some money—but has it solved the actual problem of depopulation? Has it produced the results you were aiming for?”
“…No.”
“…Well…”
“I figured as much. Instead of attracting young people to settle here, you’ve been frightening them, taking their money, and sending them away with traumatic memories. If anything, you’re driving people out. Sure, curiosity seekers might come once, but who’s going to think, ‘You know what? I want to spend the rest of my life living in this village.’ No one. You have a guardian deity working for you for free, and yet it never once occurred to you to use that incredible advantage to create repeat visitors or encourage people to settle down here? You never even considered improving things in that direction?”
I let the words hang in the air before glancing at my watch.
…Oops.
I’d gotten so caught up explaining everything that was wrong with using a cursed-village gimmick as a community revitalization strategy that more time had slipped away than I’d intended.
Still, it couldn’t be helped.
If I didn’t establish this foundation first, there’d be no way to have a productive conversation about what this village’s “superstition event” should actually become.
Looking at the village chief and the guardian deity, both of whom now sat with their heads hanging low, I decided that was enough.
They’d gotten the message.
“My apologies. I got a little carried away. Seeing problems that could obviously be fixed while watching the people responsible make no effort to address them… I suppose I let my emotions get the better of me. I overstepped as an outsider.”
“No… if anything, I should be the one apologizing.”
“I… just kept thinking that if everyone was having fun, then that was good enough. I really wasn’t thinking things through.”
Apparently, my unexpectedly heated lecture had forced them to reevaluate the village’s underlying problems.
That said…
I wasn’t actually someone with any real connection to this place.
Pointing out their flaws was merely another card I could play.
If I could instill in them the feeling that something had to change, then my real request would be that much easier to push through.
“So then, before we talk about improvements, let’s first establish the current situation. Could you show me the schedule for the events that make up Fushijishi Village’s haunted-village experience? Once I know how things currently operate, I’ll explain what I’d like to change.”
“Well… calling it a schedule is a bit generous. We don’t really have anything that structured. We decide how things begin and how they end, and… everything in between is sort of improvised. Everyone just acts according to the flow of the moment.”
“…I suppose that makes sense. You can’t predict how lost travelers are going to behave, after all. But there has to be something, doesn’t there? Standard opening events. Things villagers aren’t allowed to say. Agreements like, ‘If this event happens before the festival, then someone drops a hint,’ or something along those lines.”
“…No… not really.”
“Okay.”
For some reason…
The village chief was starting to remind me of Kuwajima.
Well, perhaps not quite.
Kuwajima—the Queen of Improvisation—often charged ahead without even deciding on a beginning or an ending.
Compared to her, the chief at least had a vague destination in mind.
Still…
The only reason this level of improvisation had been sustainable at all…
Was because of the guardian deity.
“Hey, Voice-in-my-Head. What’s actually going on from your side? Or rather… what exactly is it that you do around here… if I may ask?”
“Um… the polite language you suddenly tacked on doesn’t feel respectful in the slightest.”
“Earn my respect first. Please.”
She was technically a deity.
Part of me felt I should at least use basic honorifics.
Unfortunately, the realist inside me vehemently rejected the idea.
Sure, she’d demonstrated powers beyond human comprehension.
But she’d also let a mere hallucination expose her identity.
At that point…
She felt strangely approachable.
Besides, if something truly went wrong, I could always leave it to Taketsuru.
Though perhaps relying on him that much wasn’t a particularly healthy mindset.
The guardian deity awkwardly began explaining her role in this entire haunted-village production.
“Well… saying what I do is… difficult. It’s also mostly improvised. For example, if one of the villagers tells an outsider, “By the way, have you visited that pond yet?” then I’ll usually go over there and cause some sort of supernatural phenomenon around the pond…”
“So the villagers basically win by declaring whatever they want first. Is that it?”
Well, no wonder they never bothered writing an event schedule.
If every random idea they blurted out somehow became reality thanks to the guardian deity…
Why bother planning anything?
This was less a haunted village and more…
“Present Your Coolest Haunted Location and Let God Figure Out the Rest.”
Come to think of it…
Didn’t that mean the villagers weren’t even sharing information among themselves properly?
What happened if one villager casually declared a place sacred…
While another insisted the exact same location was cursed?
Well…
If that contradiction came from centuries of folklore changing over time, that would be one thing.
But this wasn’t ancient tradition.
It was improvisation.
“Ah, no. I sort of guide everyone’s thoughts subconsciously. I share a general vision with the villagers beforehand… like, “This is the atmosphere we’re going for with today’s outsiders.””
“So you’re the real mastermind behind everything, aren’t you!?”
“Eep!”
Oops.
I’d accidentally dropped the polite speech.
Calm down.
Be cool.
Stay cool, Kirishiro Gouto.
This wasn’t the sort of situation that warranted losing your composure.
Compared to Stalker Ninja Dog Kashi…
This was practically predictable.
Still…
One question remained unanswered.
I could reluctantly accept the village chief stumbling through things with no plan.
But why was the guardian deity herself cooperating so enthusiastically?
“Why are you helping the villagers under these circumstances? Is there something in it for you?”
“…That’s…”
She hesitated.
Clearly, there was something she found difficult to admit.
Could it be something she didn’t want me to know?
Some important secret connected to the village?
Guardian deities, by their very nature, were shaped by the land they inhabited and by the perceptions of the people living there.
By intentionally encouraging these cursed-village performances…
Perhaps she was gradually reshaping herself into something darker.
After all…
Everything she’d been doing ultimately harmed outsiders.
She wasn’t simply some benevolent god.
Just because we could hold a pleasant conversation didn’t mean she wasn’t potentially dangerous.
As the possibility that this was actually a Taketsuru Problem continued to rise in my mind…
The guardian deity finally spoke.
“…Because… when I see the children of this village working so hard… I want to help them.”
“G-Guardian-sama…”
“Times have changed. There are far fewer children now… and fewer and fewer people can even hear my voice. When I saw those trying so desperately to save this village… I simply wanted to lend them a hand. Call it… the concern of an old woman.”
“W-What boundless compassion…”
Watching the heartwarming exchange unfolding between the village chief and the guardian deity…
I couldn’t help interrupting.
“And do you realize that your kindness resulted in an amateur haunted-village attraction that’s probably violating several laws… which is exactly why you’re sitting here getting lectured by me? Are you trying to get yourselves sued?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m reflecting on my actions.”
Good.
I hoped they reflected thoroughly.
Because honestly…
The only reason this conversation had become a lecture at all was because I’d stumbled onto the truth behind everything.
If I hadn’t learned what was really happening…
There’s a very real chance I would’ve simply thought,
“Well, it’s just some creepy cursed village.”
And then proceeded to cause absolute chaos within the limits of what an ordinary university student could reasonably accomplish before leaving.
After all…
Guardian deities weren’t human.
Which meant destroying one wouldn’t violate any human laws.
Legally speaking…
The relationship between humans and guardian deities was wonderfully symmetrical.
Neither side could really prosecute the other.
It would’ve been an excellent opportunity to test exactly how sharp the Holy Sword truly was.
“W-Why did I suddenly get this overwhelming chill down my spine!?”
“Sharp instincts.”
“?!?!?!”
For all her shortcomings…
She was still a guardian deity.
Apparently, her talents extended beyond simply transmitting mysterious voices into people’s heads.
Well then.
Time to summarize.
The true nature of Fushijishi Village was surprisingly simple.
The villagers were putting on an enormous improvised summer play.
Meanwhile…
The guardian deity acted simultaneously as the stage itself…
The special effects department…
The director…
The producer…
And the sponsor.
And the fundamental problems with that production were—
- There was no central storyline holding everything together.
- Nobody had made any attempt to predict how the audience would behave.
- The audience themselves were also actors, yet there was no reliable way to communicate information to them.
- The system for turning the experience into sustainable profit was woefully inadequate.
- And, above all else, there was a disturbingly high chance that parts of the production violated actual laws.
“But more than anything else…”
I raised a finger.
“…the biggest problem is that it takes far too long.”
Exactly.
After gathering all the information…
After hearing every explanation…
That was the conclusion I’d reached from the very beginning.
It simply took too much time.
That had always been the real issue.
“Even if I generously assume that young thrill-seekers and the villagers both want the same thing—a haunted-village experience—keeping people trapped here without permission until the Obon festival is obviously excessive. How did none of you realize that?”
“But… we never know when young travelers will wander into the village. And the festival has always been the predetermined ending, so…”
“I don’t mind the festival being the ending. That’s not the problem. The problem is that your village has absolutely nothing capable of keeping people interested until that festival except fake superstitions. That’s why the length of the experience is such a serious flaw.”
This village truly had…
Nothing.
It was the very definition of an ordinary rural community.
A place with so little to offer that depopulation had progressed until fake folklore became its only selling point.
And then they expected young people to remain there for days.
With no cell phone signal.
Their families would worry.
Their schedules would fall apart.
They’d grow bored out of their minds.
There wasn’t a single upside.
Retired elderly people might tolerate that kind of slow pace.
To an ordinary young adult…
It was practically torture.
Naturally, the local guardian deity couldn’t let that statement pass unanswered.
“But… unlike the city, this place has… nothingness itself—”
“If you finish that sentence with ‘the beauty of having nothing,’ I’m hanging you upside down. Respectfully.”
“—I-I mean… there are… scenic natural attractions…! Lots of nature!”
She’d desperately changed course halfway through her sentence.
Unfortunately…
The revised version sounded even more hollow.
“You can find nature anywhere in rural Japan. What makes this place worth choosing? Nothing. The access is terrible. The summers are unbearably hot. There aren’t any rare plants, unique wildlife, or famous tourist attractions. So why would young people come here in the first place? That’s exactly why they all leave, isn’t it? Respectfully?”
“…Yes.”
The guardian deity accepted defeat.
To be fair…
The mere fact that an actual guardian deity existed here already gave the village an enormous advantage over every other rural town in Japan.
But there was no reason for me to volunteer information that strengthened their negotiating position.
What I wanted…
Was a haunted-village experience that fit neatly into our travel schedule.
One night.
Two days.
A fun test of courage.
Nothing more.
Young people lived on tight schedules.
Long-term confinement and modern youth simply weren’t compatible.
That said…
The existence of a guardian deity…
Combined with the haunted-village concept…
Actually wasn’t a bad foundation.
In other words…
The demand already existed.
No—
If it didn’t, it could be created.
“I have a proposal.”
I leaned forward.
“An idea that can expand this haunted village into something much bigger than simple community revitalization. And to demonstrate that idea… I want the festival moved to tonight.”
If they accepted my demand…
I’d help them save the village.
My request was simple.
Speed things up.
“Leave the planning to me. I’ll write the entire scenario. First, we’ll run a trial version of a two-day, one-night haunted-village experience and see how people respond. After that, you can decide whether you want to officially adopt my proposal. Now that you understand this approach isn’t sustainable, I’d say it’s worth at least trying.”
“…Forgive me for asking, but…”
The village chief stared at me with renewed curiosity.
“…Just who are you?”
When asked that question…
There was only one possible answer.
“I’m just an ordinary university student you could find anywhere.”
“No, that’s absolutely a lie.”
“Hallucination.”
I looked directly at the guardian deity, who had rejected my claim without a shred of evidence.
Right on cue…
The hallucination window popped into existence.
──────
“Guardian Deity”
Secret: She actually wishes people would offer beer instead of the village’s agricultural produce.
Secret: She normally sleeps completely naked.
Secret: She’s been participating in marriage hunting for roughly two hundred years.
Etc.
──────
One by one…
I silently projected every secret revealed by the hallucination directly into the guardian deity’s mind.
The effect was immediate.
Without another word…
The Voice in My Head promptly revised her opinion.
She now fully accepted that I was, indeed…
Just an ordinary university student you could find absolutely anywhere.