Comic strip: Survival on a deserted island, surrounded by heroines

He suddenly stopped at this point.

The man with the cigarette noticed the change in his expression: "What's wrong?"

"...Did you hear that?"

"What did you hear?"

"...I don't know, it sounded like something!"

The man with the cigarette in his mouth pricked up his ears and listened intently for a while.

The only sounds in the forest were the wind and the rustling of the trees, with the chirping of insects and the occasional call of birds in the distance.

Everything is normal.

"Are you hearing things? There's nothing there."

He put the cigarette back in his mouth and took a deep drag.

"This place is so far from the danger zone, what could possibly be wrong..."

The rest of his sentence got stuck in his throat.

As he spoke, a tall, dark figure silently emerged from the darkness behind him.

Like a shadow formed by a wisp of moonlight, it fell silently onto the edge of the oil lamp's light.

“…”

It was a figure wearing a sailor uniform.

Her long, deep purple hair swayed gently in the night breeze, the ends brushing against her shoulders and reflecting a dim luster in the moonlight.

She held a samurai sword in her hand, the blade gleaming with a cold, bluish light under the moonlight, with no reflection on the edge.

Saeko Busujima stood there, like a sculpture emerging from the moonlight, quietly watching the two men.

Her expression was calm, so calm it was almost eerie.

But the depth of her gaze sent a chill down the spine of anyone who met her eyes.

"...Where did this guy come from?"

The man with the cigarette in his mouth opened his mouth wide, the cigarette falling from his lips and extinguishing itself on the ground with sparks.

He was completely stunned by what he saw and had no time to react.

"It's an intruder!!"

The other man reacted a little faster; he yelled and tried to run into the cabin.

Just then, a silver light swept across his neck.

"Crack—!"

It sounded like a sharp blade cutting into a watermelon.

The sound was short and crisp, almost insignificant in the night wind.

Saeko Busujima flicked the tip of her knife slightly and then withdrew it.

Her body barely moved; only her wrist, which was holding the knife, made a barely perceptible twisting motion.

"How is this possible?!"

The man who wanted to run away widened his eyes and took two steps forward.

Then his body suddenly lost its balance and fell face down to the ground like a chopped-down log.

It produced a dull thud.

"hehe..."

The man with the cigarette in his mouth felt his legs go weak and slowly slid down, his back pressed against the wooden pillar.

His pupils dilated to their maximum size in an instant, and his lips turned a grayish-white from extreme fear.

"You... what are you...?"

His voice squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying a mournful tremor.

Busushima Saeko looked down at him.

Her gaze was as cold as the moonlight on an autumn night, devoid of any superfluous emotion.

She tilted her head slightly, her ponytail arcing as she moved, the ends brushing against the hilt of the knife.

"The hunters of your people."

Saeko Busujima's slightly excited voice clearly reached his ears.

The man's lips trembled: "Those people during the day...did you kill them too?!"

"Yes, it's really delightful."

Saeko Busujima spoke in a calm tone, as if she were recounting an ordinary little thing.

Her gaze swept over his shoulder to the firelight emanating from the cabin: "Robbing, killing, arresting."

“You’ve been doing this kind of thing on this island for a long time now.”

“You think you are rulers and can do whatever you want.”

"But in reality, you are just a bunch of...filthy worms."

"Then there's no other way. The only way to deal with villains is... to kill them!"

As she spoke, the tip of the knife slowly rose, drawing a long, thin arc in the lamplight.

"No...I..."

The man opened his mouth, as if trying to explain something.

But when he saw Saeko Busujima's eyes, all the words stuck in his throat.

He had seen many people's eyes; after entering this community, he had seen fear, greed, numbness, and madness.

But he had never seen that look before.

"That was pure...killing?!"

She looked at herself as if she were looking at something destined to disappear.

There was no hatred, no anger, and not even contempt.

It's simply that... I no longer treat him as a living person.

He finally managed to squeeze out a trembling sentence from his throat.

"You...you're a madman!"

Upon hearing this, Saeko Busujima paused slightly in her action of raising her sword.

Then she gently curved the corners of her mouth.

It was a very bright and clear image of a man, which appeared exceptionally clear under the moonlight.

"A madman?"

She repeated the word, as if savoring its meaning.

"Maybe."

She lowered her eyes and looked down at her own knife.

Bloodstains from the previous slash still lingered on the blade, the dark red liquid slowly sliding down the curve of the blade, resembling a winding serpent in the moonlight.

"But in places like this, being crazy is the normal state."

“You people, once you are free from the constraints of rules, reveal your ugliest side.”

Looting, murder... Weren't you all insane when you did these things?

Her voice remained flat, but there was a barely perceptible tremor at the end of the note.

It wasn't a tremor of fear or anger, but something more complex.

It's like... something is being suppressed?

"This guy... he really is a madman!"

The man felt a chill run down his spine when he saw the smile on her lips.

He tried to spring up from the ground and run away, but he was too slow.

"Snap—!"

The blade flashed past his eyes, and the last thing he saw was a silver arc gracefully traversing the sky under the moonlight.

Then everything returned to darkness.

The area in front of the wooden house fell silent again.

The oil lamp was still burning, and occasionally a flame would burst from the wick.

"call--!"

The wind blew through the forest, carrying away the faint smell of blood that lingered in the air.

Saeko Busujima stood there, her hands hanging down, the tip of her knife resting on the ground, slightly tilted.

Her breathing was steady and even, her chest rose and fell gently, and there was no sign of fatigue on her face.

On the contrary, her pupils were frighteningly bright, burning like flames.

She looked down at the two corpses at her feet.

"The seventeenth... no... it's the nineteenth."

Saeko Busujima murmured to herself, her tone carrying a strange sense of dazedness.

She slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the night air.

The pungent smell of blood mixed with the fresh scent of herbs filled her lungs, causing her shoulders to relax slightly.

The corners of her mouth curved up again, this time with a more pronounced curve than before.

"...It smells so good."

She opened her eyes, her gaze wandering in the darkness for a moment before finally settling on an uncertain direction in the distance.

That's the northernmost danger zone.

It was the place where she met that man a couple of days ago.

"What a terrifying guy..."

That figure involuntarily surfaced in Saeko Busujima's mind.

Dressed in black, with a tall and sturdy figure, carrying a bow and quiver on his shoulder, and a dark fire axe in his right hand.

The man stood atop the rock face, looking down at her.

There was no fear, no wariness, and not even much curiosity in his eyes.

It was an indifferent look in his eyes.

Just as what she did was meaningless to him, just as she was unimportant to him.

As Saeko Busujima thought of this, her fingers gripping the hilt of the knife tightened unconsciously.

"That man..."

She repeated those words in a low voice, her emotions much more complex than before.

It's hard to say whether it was a kind of resentment at being looked down upon, or a more primal fear.

Is it an instinctive sense of awe that arises when faced with something incomprehensible?

"He's very strong... very strong!"

The judgment surfaced in her mind, clear and unquestionable.

Saeko Busujima received kendo training from a young age, spending countless mornings and evenings on the wooden floors of her family dojo...

She has seen too many opponents, defeated too many opponents, and faced desperate situations in countless battles.

But the feeling of possibly dying was completely different from the feeling I had when I faced that man during the day.