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

"Isn't that pressure, that's not a threat... is it a feeling of powerlessness?"

It's like standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down, seeing the abyss stretching out beneath your feet.

You know that jumping down will result in being smashed to pieces, but the abyss isn't even watching you.

"Whoosh—!"

Saeko Busujima's breathing quickened slightly.

The change in her breathing rhythm was completely different from the steady rhythm she had when she killed those two people.

She could feel her heart beating faster.

The thumping sound coming from my chest felt like something scalding hot was pounding on my ribs.

"If... we could defeat him!"

She pulled the thought out of her mind like a blade, repeatedly rubbing its edges in her consciousness.

"What would it feel like to defeat someone that strong?"

Saeko Busujima has always pursued something extreme.

During her time at the dojo, she pursued excellence in swordsmanship, striving for perfection in every movement, and aiming to defeat her opponent in the shortest amount of time with the least amount of effort.

She once thought that her pursuit stemmed from a yearning for the beauty of martial arts.

But later she gradually understood.

Especially on this island, after the rules have been removed, what is the source of that pursuit?

She craved power, the power to defeat everything.

More importantly, she craved that brief, intense pleasure of defeating her opponent!

She used to be bothered by this.

Because in civilized society, such desires are considered morbid and abnormal.

She had tried to suppress it, locking those thoughts deep in her consciousness, pretending that she was just an ordinary, hardworking high school student.

But when she arrived on the island, everything changed.

"There are no rules here, no moral judgment, no invisible shackles..."

Only you, your weapon, and your enemy.

Here, she no longer needs to suppress anything.

"Hehehe..."

Busujima Saeko laughed softly.

The laughter wasn't loud, but it was very clear in front of the empty wooden house.

She raised her hand and wiped the bloodstains on her cheek with her thumb, staring at the dark red mark on her fingertip with a look of almost dazed infatuation.

"Defeat him...even kill him!"

Saeko Busujima raised her head again, her gaze fixed on the northernmost starry sky.

The moonlight fell on her moist, red lips, giving them a hazy, watery sheen.

A sickly flush rose on her cheeks, spreading from her cheekbones to her ears, and was particularly noticeable in the moonlight.

"Even dying at his hands doesn't seem so bad."

She was slightly taken aback after saying those words.

Then she laughed, this time her laughter was clearer and more unrestrained.

"Have I really... gone mad?"

Saeko Busujima turned around, wiped the remaining blood off the sword on the wooden pillar, and sheathed it.

The movements remained fluid and precise, without the slightest unnecessary sway.

She stood in the darkness for a while, her gaze sweeping over the shadows in the surrounding woods.

Her body tensed slightly, a kind of instinctive alertness.

But she quickly relaxed because she was sure there was no one else around.

She raised her hand and pressed it against her chest, feeling the steady, powerful beating of her heart beneath her palm.

That throbbing had a strange kind of excitement.

"The nineteenth..."

She repeated the number softly, her eyes flickering uncertainly in the darkness.

"Tomorrow, there will be a twentieth... twenty-first."

Saeko Busujima turned and walked into the woods, her steps light and silent, her purple figure moving between the moonlight and the shadows of the trees.

The night wind brushed past her, ruffling her hair and clothes, carrying a lingering smell of blood.

She took a deep breath, and the smell made her smile again.

"Killing, fighting, death... that's what I want!"

Ten minutes later.

Saeko Busujima sat down among the branches of an old banyan tree.

This was her temporary lodging, a few tattered canvases forming a makeshift roof to keep out the rain, with dry grass and fallen leaves spread underneath.

She leaned against the thick tree trunk, placing her samurai sword across her lap.

Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the tree canopy, casting dappled shadows on her face.

Her gaze fell on her hand holding the knife.

Those long, slender fingers, with distinct knuckles, looked like white jade in the moonlight.

"He's so strong, he must be killing people somewhere too, right?"

Thinking of this, Saeko Busujima closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

His breathing gradually calmed down, but a trace of illness still lingered at the corner of his mouth.

She finally fell asleep.

In a dream.

She stood in the empty moonlight, holding a knife.

Opposite her stood the man in black carrying a fire axe.

He is looking at her.

That chilling gaze made her blood boil!

"Come on, chop! Come on, kill!"

Chapter 73: Sagiri: Brother Aoyama...don't turn around. [Image]

The midday sun shone down on the forest floor covered with fallen leaves.

Qingshan walked ahead, his machete flashing as he cut down vines and low shrubs blocking his path.

The sound of the blade cutting into the wood was crisp and clear, especially distinct in the sweltering forest.

Sawu followed behind, carrying a notebook and a ballpoint pen in her arms.

She would walk a few steps and then stop, quickly drawing lines on a piece of paper to mark the terrain features.

"Brother Qingshan, wait a minute—"

Shawu called out, then jogged a few steps to Qingshan's side, stood on tiptoe and held the notebook up to him.

Her light blue pupils sparkled in the dappled light and shadow: "Look, I've drawn the path we just walked."

Qingshan looked down.

The lines on the paper are professionally drawn, clear and accurate.

Every turn and every sign is marked with a simple line drawing, along with a small note next to it.

Aoyama nodded: "It's drawn very carefully."

"Really?"

Sawu's eyes lit up, and the corners of her mouth unconsciously turned up.

She quickly lowered her head, pretending to check her notes, her silver-white hair slipping down her shoulders and obscuring her slightly flushed cheeks.

I was really happy to receive praise for the map I drew.

"Then let's keep going."

Aoyama pointed ahead: "There's a small hill over there. If you climb to the top, you should be able to see the overall terrain of this area."

"it is good."

Shawu held her notebook to her chest and jogged to keep up with him.

The light in the forest was intermittent, and her silvery-white hair looked like flowing streams in the shadows.

Qingshan doesn't walk fast, so he will deliberately slow down to wait for her.

When he encountered a steep slope or a slippery area, he would turn around and glance at her.

When Sawu noticed this detail, her heart felt warm and comforted, as if something had gently ironed it.

"Brother Qingshan... has always taken care of me."

She lowered her head and drew a crooked tree on the paper with a ballpoint pen, and then drew a small stick figure next to the tree.

"puff--!"

She couldn't help but laugh, then quickly covered her mouth, pretending to be drawing a map seriously.

"What's up?"

The sound of green hills came from ahead.

"N-nothing!" She quickly shook her head, her cheeks burning again. "I'm... I'm drawing the terrain."

Qingshan did not ask any further questions.

She breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't help stealing another glance at that figure's back.

She didn't know when it started, but she gradually got used to being with Aoyama.

Although she is still shy, at least she can speak in complete sentences now.

"This is a great improvement."

She muttered something to herself, then quickened her pace to catch up.

The path through the woods was not easy to walk on.

The deeper you go, the denser the vegetation becomes.

Sunlight filtered through layers of leaves, leaving only faint patches of light shimmering on the ground.

The air was filled with the damp scent of earth, mixed with the faint fragrance of decaying leaves and unknown wildflowers.

Aoyama swung his sword and cut a thick vine lying across his front, then turned to the side to wait for the mist to pass.

"Watch your step, the tree roots are a bit slippery here."

Shawu looked down and sure enough, there was a section of bare tree root lying across the road, covered with a layer of wet moss.

She carefully stepped across, and when her toes landed, she stepped on a loose stone, causing her to sway slightly.

"Well--!"

She subconsciously reached out to grab something, and then her wrist was firmly grasped.

Are you alright?

Aoyama's palm was warm and strong, and the temperature felt reassuring through his skin.

Sagiri's face flushed red instantly, and her voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's hum: "It's nothing... thank you, Brother Aoyama."

"You are welcome."