There existed things in this world that ordinary people did not know—truly mysterious things.
It was correct to say they were the so-called occult or conspiracy theories.
What, so are you saying I’m a conspiracy theorist too?
That’s not it.
Because just moments ago, I had died by that very mystery.
Beeeeep—
—Gurrrgle. Gurgle.
A black slime that clumsily imitated a human was looking down at me silently.
I tried to engage in a staring contest with hazy vision, but I couldn’t.
I already felt strange from losing so much blood, and looking at that thing made my head throb.
"Ugh…"
Blood flowed from my nose and mouth.
And from my stomach as well.
Bleeding from the seven orifices—it wasn’t anything like that.
The blood flowing from my stomach was because that bastard had directly punched a hole through it.
And something black was devouring that wound in real time.
*Calling 119… won’t work, will it.*
If I called 119, staffed by good people with impeccable professionalism, I might only end up creating more victims like me for no reason.
Was it misfortune, or fortune? The place where I was meeting my lonely death after encountering that thing was a secluded back alley.
It meant there was almost no chance of someone passing by and getting killed.
Of course, it wasn’t my place to say such things when I was dying right this moment… but at least it was fortunate that I was the only one dying right now.
It would be a bit awkward if someone died alongside me for no reason.
—Gurrrgle. Gurgle.
"You diarrhea-fart bastard… What did I even do…"
I cursed at it pointlessly to vent my anger, but it only stared at me silently.
Just when I thought I would greet death beneath that thing’s gaze…
Tak. Tak.
*…A… person?*
Footsteps could be heard from afar.
To be exact, judging by the slightly slow footsteps mixed with the sound of a cane, it seemed to be an elderly person.
*No… Grandma, or Grandpa…*
"Don’t—*cough*—don’t come this way…"
But was it already too late?
The footsteps were almost here, and the black squirmy thing was turning its head.
There couldn’t be another victim.
I slowly reached out and spoke.
"Run…"
But the elderly person who finally revealed herself—more precisely, a grandmother—did not run.
Rather, she opened the book she was holding and said something to the black squirmy thing; then, before I lost consciousness, she approached me at some point, muttering something as she asked me a question.
"Y-yes…"
I answered her question without knowing why.
.
.
.
Flutter! Flutter! Flutter!
Flapflapflap!
"You lot, if you fight one more time and tear a book, I won’t restore it."
Flut-, flutter.
Flap-flap.
For some reason, I had become a girl and ended up as the librarian of a mysterious library filled with books that moved on their own.