Episode 22: The Betraying Male Student

After receiving seeds from Kobayashi, Hayato headed toward the main gate.

Thanks to strong insistence from the female teachers, an additional ten kilograms of rice were also given.

He had informed them of the vehicle repair, so they likely assumed he could carry it back.

— Pressure to bring more haircare products, I suppose.

Currently, Hayato pushed a handcart loaded with a cardboard box filled with various crop seeds and a ten-kilogram rice bag, rolling it with a clatter.

Walking past the gate as usual, he thought it would be clumsy, when, through the improbable odds of three transactions resulting in three encounters, he met the same person again.

"Ah, Natsuki! Is that your backpack?"

Seeing Natsuki holding a backpack, Hayato realized his mistake.

During the previous exchange, when Hayato had handed over supplies, he had given her his backpack as well.

Hayato learned that she had come to school, and had come specifically to return it.

"Again, three days later."

"Indeed. This time, it doesn't seem like coincidence."

"Yes, I thought it might be needed."

Hayato accepted the backpack Natsuki offered, and nodded slightly.

After being transported to another world, Hayato had gained the ability to store items in space.

He believed the space-storage function originated from a device of a hyper-advanced civilization, with a terminal embedded in it.

He theorized the terminal was an advanced evolution of a modern smartphone, capable of storing items by digitizing matter, and retrieving them by materializing the data.

Thus, he considered the storage capacity akin to a smartphone’s data storage.

If the technology to transport objects to another world existed, then objects could be removed or summoned.

The fact that Hayato could not store animals could be explained by safety protocols.

He did not suffer greatly from lacking a backpack, but it had been taken from his home regardless.

"Since I've used it since middle school, it might be better to have it."

"Isn't it an important backpack? Then come and retrieve it properly."

Natsuki made a faintly incredulous expression as she handed the backpack over.

Hayato accepted it, placing it atop the cardboard box while protesting.

"Even if you say come and get it, I don't know where it is."

Natsuki pointed ahead, to the cream-colored four-story building just past the main gate.

"That is the second dormitory for girls. My room is 201. It's a two-person room. When you first arrived, you were with Mua, my roommate."

"Huh."

Hayato, who had never known dormitories in his regular course, looked at the high school girls' dormitory with quiet interest.

According to Omori, Kirioka Agricultural High School had approximately four hundred and fifty students, with about seventy percent living in dormitories.

That meant around three hundred dorm residents. If boys and girls were equal in number, one hundred and fifty would live in the dorms.

If the girls’ dormitory extended to Building Two, that would be seventy-five per building.

With four floors, that would be roughly twenty per floor. Ten rooms per floor, if two-person rooms.

Hayato stared at the girls’ dormitory. Natsuki pressed him.

“Don’t just walk in. You’ll be scolded. Come to the front door. Call someone, and I’ll come out.”

“I didn’t mean to break in. Not at all.”

Still, he could not help imagining the structure.

“But if it’s Hayato, you could jump over. Room 201 is the farthest right on the second floor. I’ll tell Mua you’re coming.”

“No, even if you suggest it, I won’t go.”

Hayato’s expression tightened, caught between annoyance and resignation as Natsuki clearly teased him.

Two phrases, spoken by Natsuki, passed through Hayato’s mind.

‘There are people who died right in front of us, denied entry.’

‘I’d like to go. I don’t really feel attached anymore.’

Natsuki seemed to be pretending. Either that, or she had given up.

—If I were alone, I might consider taking her along.

The first person he met after being sent back from another world was Yui.

For three years, Hayato had sought information. He had been infected with the zombie virus, exiled, severed from family, and made Yui his partner.

Yui contributed not only information, but also handled cooking and cleaning. She pointed out the value of supplies. She tried to fulfill her role.

They both knew: if it became known that either of them had been cured, it would cause trouble.

The relationship is not unfavorable, as I see it.

Natsuki, in the current state, is merely the one Hayato feels sympathy for.

She is eager to assert dominance, and would follow Hayato gladly if he initiated contact.

But for Hayato, it wasn't without benefit...

—Yui, you're grown up now, aren't you.

Not specifying where, but generally speaking, adult.

— Knowledge of agriculture, and so on.

Hayato, his gaze averted from a part of Natsuki's body, mentally elaborated with elegant justification—this was the meaning of assistance provided through adult knowledge.

Taking Natsuki, who is mature, would provoke Yui's anger, as anticipated.

Difficult, I thought. I shifted my focus outward, scanning the surroundings. A truck approached from beyond the main gate.

Hayato, having labored to repair the automobile, stared at the functioning truck.

"What is that?"

People who trade supplies. Yes, that's right...

◇◇◇◇◇◇

The main gate of Kirioka Agricultural High School opened. A truck entered.

It advanced, raising dust, passed through the main gate, and was immediately closed behind it by students from Kirioka Agricultural High School.

The truck passed by Hayato and Natsuki, then stopped in front of the warehouse.

Two men exited the driver’s and passenger’s seats of the stopped truck.

"Hello. We’re here for the exchange."

An older man with a large tattoo on his neck greeted, holding a cigarette in one hand.

After speaking, he brought the cigarette to his lips.

Kobayashi, who happened to be greeting them, showed no concern, responded calmly.

"Thank you as always. This time we have plenty of winter cabbage, winter lettuce, spinach, and winter radishes."

The man nodded, still holding the cigarette, upon hearing the list of vegetables.

He spoke to the purple-haired boy stepping down from the passenger seat.

"Issei, open it."

"Understood, Oniwa-san."

The boy responded, opening the back of the truck. Inside, building materials from the Home Center were stacked in a mountain.

Kobayashi called out to a student running from the school gate.

"Kurohara, sorry, gather some help."

"Right, already got Chōbara going."

"Ah. Then help me unload the vegetables."

Kobayashi said, gesturing for him to follow. The student called Kurohara waved his right hand side to side.

"I'll go myself. No problem. Issei’s a middle school buddy, so we’ll handle it together."

Oniwa, still holding a cigarette, nodded toward the purple-haired boy with a slight lift of his chin.

"My Issei is a former classmate of that Kurohara kid. Use him. The two of you can talk while you work."

“That’s right. Then, Kurohara, I’m counting on you.”

“Got it.”

Kurohara gave a light reply and led Yūhei into the warehouse.

The door creaked slightly as it swung inward, the rusted hinge groaning faintly.

Inside, it was dim. When Kurohara flipped the light switch, one bare bulb hanging from the ceiling cast a dull glow.

The light was insufficient. Deep shadows pooled in the far corners.

“Electricity’s not enough, huh.”

Kurohara scanned the surroundings, surveying the warehouse as it once was, bright and functional.

External power supply had ceased. Solar power was available, but usage was strictly limited.

His voice echoed through the space, carrying a faint, uneasy tone into the ears.

“Just being able to use electricity is enough.”

Hayato shrugged lightly and switched on the flashlight he drew from his pocket.

The beam illuminated the stacked vegetable crates and the floor beneath their feet.

“Hayato, let’s talk deeper in.”

Kurohara nodded toward Hayato.

They advanced carefully, avoiding the crates placed at their feet as they moved toward the back of the warehouse.

Kurohara occasionally glanced back, monitoring the surroundings, careful not to make noise.

Reaching the shadowed corner behind a shelf at the warehouse’s far end, they finally stopped.

“Here, no one’ll hear us.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Kurohara spoke, and Hayato laughed quietly, thinking him too cautious, then lowered the flashlight beam.

“So, midnight tonight—fine?”

Kurohara asked in a low voice.

His eyes held a mix of anticipation and impatience.

Hayato slipped his hand into his pocket and lifted the corner of his mouth. A strange shadow fell across his face in the dim light.

"Preparations are complete. You open the gate from inside. The rest will be handled by the zombies loaded onto the truck."

Confidence bled into Hayato's voice.

His hand moved slowly within his pocket. A faint sound of something being manipulated reached the ear.

"Loading zombies onto a truck? How did you manage that?"

Kurohara asked. Hayato answered with a snort through his nose.

"Bind a living person to the truck bed. Let the zombies swarm him. Once the bed is full, seal it with the excavator. That's how you make a zombie truck."

"Who came up with that idea?"

"Me."

Hayato's voice carried a hint of amusement. It deepened Kurohara's tension.

"Hey, you'll keep your promise, right?"

"You sell the fog-farming that you can produce to Oniwa. You know this place well. You'll still be useful. So naturally, you're part of the group."

"What about women?"

Kurohara pressed the point. Ippo gave a faint smile and shrugged.

"There are women we captured elsewhere. If we can't get them here, we still have them."

"Not old women, right?"

"You can choose. But don't keep pestering Oniwa. He gets angry. And when he does, it's real. Just keep quiet at first."

Kurohara nodded repeatedly, as if convincing himself.

"I was getting tired of it. Discipline. Rules. I graduated last year, but they still try to control everything."

"From now on, you'll get to enjoy things too."

Hearing Ippo's "things," Kurohara twisted his mouth into a distasteful smile.