Ghost 11 — Current Status
Taking advantage of Shiro’s kindness, I have come to reside in a large mansion.
It is kind of her, but honestly, it is unfamiliar.
In this world, I have spent half my time in dilapidated dwellings and the other half wandering in rage, forgetting myself.
I have occasionally slept and stayed in abandoned homes—places where the owner had vanished or been abandoned—but never in a mansion of this grandeur.
In fact, I do not recall ever seeing a mansion this grand, even counting my previous life.
The mansion is nearly the size of a castle.
In the past few days, I have learned various things from the household staff.
Ideally, I would have preferred to hear from Shiro herself, but she rarely speaks.
She was not talkative in her previous life either, but here, she speaks almost never.
The exchange in the alternate space upon our reunion made it clear—over and over.
Communicating with Shiro is difficult.
So I began asking the household staff small questions, one by one.
I would have preferred to ask everything at once, but I hesitated to detain them longer than necessary while they performed their duties.
Still, the result was that I memorized the faces and names of the staff here, and grew comfortable enough to speak freely with them.
I am technically a guest, though my status is nonexistent.
I asked some of the younger ones to treat me not as a guest, but as a free-loader living off their hospitality.
They obliged, and as a result, I was able to speak with them, and gradually learned what I needed to know.
First, this place appears to be a nation of demons.
At some point, we had left the human realm and stepped into demon territory.
Yet, not noticing it was unavoidable.
Humans and demons appear identical in physical form. Daily life patterns differ only slightly.
Without being told, one would not recognize them as demons.
Moreover, beings like me are nearly nonexistent.
I had imagined demons as a collective of devils, but apparently, there are no demons with wings or horns.
Thus, I was told, if I did not conceal my horns, I would stand out significantly.
If I were to go outside, it would be advisable to hide them with a hat or similar.
Additionally, even among the household staff, Syrilis’s true identity remained unclear, leading to various rumors.
Advisor to the Demon King, sister of the Demon King, decoy for the Demon King—speculations varied.
I had heard he was acquainted with the Demon King, but hearing it confirmed from others was still surprising.
From various speculations, it appeared he maintained a notably close relationship with the Demon King.
Some claimed a resemblance in features—possibly indicating actual kinship.
Still, these remained mere rumors. Whether true or not could only be confirmed by asking him directly.
Shiro was full of mysteries.
That he was a reincarnated being, like me, was certain. But what he had done in this world prior remained unknown.
A degree of interest was present.
After all, he was clearly stronger than I.
I say this without arrogance. I was undoubtedly strong.
At one point, I believed no being in this world could overcome me.
Not out of pride, but because the strength I manifested when activating Rage was unmatched here.
And yet, upon first sight, I had already been certain I could not prevail.
No need to use a Scrying Stone.
Why I thought that, I honestly don’t understand myself very well.
Yet, it was too close to certainty to be mere intuition.
If a reason must be given, then that otherworldly realm.
Having dabbled in spatial magic myself, I could perceive—though not entirely—how absurd that space truly was.
An expansive realm stretching as if without end.
A space where even the flow of time was manipulated.
If the face that appeared had not been familiar, I might have thought it divine intervention.
God, or...?
The man I recall is the one who defeated me in that battle—dark-haired.
The man who effortlessly overcame me—my fury activated—treated me as if I were a child.
My status should be capped after activating rage.
Such a feat—overcoming it with such ease—should be impossible under normal circumstances.
Shiro said that man was a god.
I wonder why she’s involved with a deity, but I’m uncertain whether she’d speak freely.
Speak of the devil.
Shiro appeared at my room.
Her entire form was unified in white, creating an unusual aura, her original beauty combined with an air of distant sanctity, almost unapproachable.
The only difference from her previous life was that her hair, eyebrows, and even her skin had turned white.
Perhaps that she always keeps her eyes closed.
Why she keeps her eyes closed is unclear.
Yet, according to servants’ rumors, opening them drains the soul.
When I invited Shiro into my room, an unexpected figure emerged behind her.
“You!”
She appeared equally surprised, her eyes wide.
The vampire girl who fought me on equal terms at that time.
If I am to believe Shiro’s words, she should be the same reincarnated individual and former classmate, Nagai Akiko…
Was she the type to immediately launch a spell at me upon meeting? A dangerous disposition, perhaps?
“Ah!”
Nagai’s spell was halted by Shiro.
Impressive.
In that single instant, she intervened in the spell’s construction and crushed it.
What skill would allow such a feat? I cannot determine.
Incidentally, Nagai’s groan came from Shiro delivering a roundhouse kick to her side—almost as if it were an afterthought.
Nagai’s body did not move at all after the kick—unnaturally still. Something more than a simple kick occurred.
Or rather… is Nagai alright?
Her body remains bent in a U-shape, spitting blood from her mouth in thick gouts.
Bone structures that should not bend under absolute physical laws are breaking.
Shiro observed Nagai’s condition, then deliberately forced her bent body back into alignment.
A sound beyond description—unbearable, agonized screaming—emanated from Nagai’s mouth.
The scream alone would reduce SAN value.
Yet the injury regenerates almost immediately. Expected, given the circumstances.
The situation began with extreme conditions. What happens next?