Part 351: Peaceful Moments

We had been walking along Aoyama-dori for perhaps ten or fifteen minutes.

As expected, since Nanami had given it her seal of approval, most of the "zombies" in the area had vanished.

After all, the "zombies" in central Tokyo had mostly gathered at that shopping mall, so this was hardly surprising.

Occasionally, a "zombie" would appear,

"Gyaa gyaa gyaa gyaa uu uu uu uu uu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu……"

and passed by with exaggerated energy, completely ignoring me.

"Amazing, the 'Parade'."

I thought, since it's called 'Parade,' some dazzlingly decorated vehicle with flashy lights would appear—but according to Nanami, the true nature of this skill is actually a kind of ultrasonic wave that affects the mind.

"…Are the two of them really okay?"

I murmured, and Shibusawa, standing right beside me, chuckled in reply.

"Both are smart girls. They'll be fine. Definitely."

His words didn't carry any particular conviction, but I accepted them anyway.

After all, there was no point in fretting now—what we said wouldn't change their fate.

Our group slowly moved forward, periodically using the third ability of the Thunder-type while pressing onward.

The dilapidated asphalt and the deserted spot seemed to warn, as if saying, "This is what the real world will look like a century from now."

Eventually, they arrived at the desolate avenue of trees along Omote-sando.

After passing by a slope lined with cafés where a single cup of coffee costs 1,380 yen,

It's nostalgic... I used to spend my vacations right around here.

And Shimada casually dropped a reference to "Kachigumi" talk.

That said,

"If I'd known the world would change like this, I would've treated myself a little more extravagantly back then—something like having a sandwich with my coffee..."

Even the speaker seems to realize now that such words are empty and hollow.

Just as he didn't see any "zombies" on the way here, there's no sign of them around this area either.

Occasionally, one might spot a lone survivor, its leg crushed, desperately crawling forward.

While ignoring the pitiful, powerless "zombies," a brief moment of peace passed.

"Hey, 'Nameless'... and Dog Bite."

Suddenly, Shibata called out to us.

"If you're willing, after we escape from here, I'd like to introduce the two of you to the community at Tokyo Station."

Huh.

"Tokyo Station, you say... they're gathering supplies from within the city now..."

"That's right. I'll admit it's a bit boastful, but it's a fairly large and stable community, if I do say so myself."

"…Are there any weird rules or anything like that?"

Like gathering only young girls to make entertaining videos.

"No, not really. Nothing particularly unusual, at least."

"What about those people called 'Players' or 'Villains'?"

"There are some, but they're treated more like bodyguards. The spokesperson is just an ordinary person. …To be honest, that actually works better with everyone."

After all, being good at fighting doesn't necessarily make someone a good leader.

"Hey, Shiba-san. If you're talking about someone unusual—well, there was that incident, wasn't there?"

At that moment, one of the refugees chimes in.

Shiba-san gives a slight frown, as if to say, "Now that's getting unnecessary."

"Yeah... that thing, huh."

"What's wrong?"

"No, it's not anything worth keeping secret, really."

Then, with a slightly awkward pause, he continued.

"There's a little local specialty near the station. There's a red-light district that's still operating even after the 'End'."

"Red-light... district..."

Ah, I see. That's what you mean.

"Apparently, the top of that shop is a 'Player,' and the courtesans who work there don't just attract customers—they also take on mercenary jobs."

"Mercenaries?"

"Yeah. Though they aren't Players themselves, for some reason they can wield strange powers and supposedly aren't even fazed by zombies."

That's fascinating.

Honestly, I kind of have a hunch about the 'Player' job of that top-ranking woman.

Slave master or slave trader, probably.

"About that story..."

The sharp voice of Dogbite, who had been listening intently.

"I'm hearing this for the first time. Is it true?"

"Huh? Yeah, it's true."

"If that's the case, then that 'Player' might be forcing those girls to serve against their will."

"...Yeah. Maybe using your strange powers, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Who knows. I don't really understand... your world, though."

"……………"

Either my imagination is playing tricks on me, or I can feel a killing intent radiating from the silver armor.

Perhaps his sense of justice has been stirred.

Of course, I'm not indifferent to that so-called brothel either.

If that 'Player' is a 'slave trader'—then, like Tenkō Tsumuri, he didn't choose to become a 'liberator.'

Just that much already makes it clear he has a bit of a personality issue.

If I ever end up needing help from the community at Tokyo Station, maybe I'll pop in and make a brief appearance.