I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World
[Original – YakuMan]
[TL – MiT7]
[PR – Spades]
Chapter 26: A Boring Reason
—————————
Five minutes later, Kamihara Shinji was back in his study.
His expression was odd, tinged with frustration. "Such a lame reason," he muttered.
Koyama Kin had clearly sensed something was wrong, his mental state unraveling, paranoia kicking in. Seeing Kamihara pushed him over the edge into hysterics.
He'd answered every question, spilling everything, even begging for mercy.
Koyama thought Kamihara had preemptively entered his name in Hell Correspondence, explaining why he was there watching.
Pure delusion.
He had no clue that without Enma Ai's visit, Kamihara wouldn't even know he existed.
And why had Koyama targeted him? Because Kamihara once helped him against Hisaike Kento's bullying.
But the second time Koyama got hassled, Kamihara saw it, didn't intervene, and walked away.
Hisaike kept trash-talking Kamihara, egging Koyama on, saying Kamihara's meddling was why he kept getting targeted.
If not for Kamihara, Hisaike might not have shaken him down for cash.
From then on, Koyama resented him.
That midnight, on Hell Correspondence, Koyama, consumed by spite, typed Kamihara's name.
Kamihara was dumbfounded.
Such a petty, absurd reason to be hated.
Peak human nonsense.
The internet was right: only novels need logic—reality doesn't.
Instead of Hisaike, Koyama named him.
Speechless, Kamihara's gaze settled on the desk, where the notebook sat, cloaked in faint black mist, radiating unease.
After Enma Ai sent Koyama to hell, she'd followed him back to the study… then dissolved into black mist, merging into the *Hell Girl* main page.
He'd always wondered where his urban legend anomalies lived.
Now he knew—they didn't roam Tokyo. They resided in the notebook.
So… was *The Gaze in the Cracks* in there too?
He recalled boosting his Spiritual Power to nine. That night, nightmares hit, with a persistent feeling of being watched.
It lingered after waking.
Was *The Gaze in the Cracks* watching him?
Before, he might've been nervous.
But now, knowing more, he was mostly curious about his creations.
He didn't dwell—answers would come later.
Pushing Koyama aside, his mood lifted…
Enma Ai's visit confirmed the notebook's legends couldn't harm him.
He flipped to the *Hell Girl* subpage. One glowed faintly red.
Opening it, a giant blood-red × slashed across, covering Koyama's story. As he looked, the page faded, vanishing seconds later.
"Outside the rules, huh?" he murmured.
He hadn't forgotten tonight's goal.
First, he grabbed his phone to reply in the group chat. Maji-chan's stream got cut, and Hideki and the others were ranting, tossing around theories.
He typed, "Same here," set the phone down, and turned to X's page—Eguchi Rikuto.
Barely ten minutes since the stream went dark.
---
Meanwhile, in Shinjuku's Rinsei complex, Maji-chan and Eguchi Rikuto were in MPD custody.
Red Sound, usually flippant, got serious facing anomalies. Still, his nature crept through. Scratching his head, he asked his assistant, "What's this thing feel like?"
The curse doll was Hell Girl's—he wasn't touching it without knowing its rules.
His assistant, a bespectacled young man named Koju Takuya, stayed calm, no fear in his eyes.
Under Koike Oto's admiring gaze, he examined the dark, bluish straw doll. "Cold, eerie. Nothing else."
"Pull it—full strength," Aoji ordered.
"Hey, Takuya's *my* assistant. I give the orders!" Red Sound snapped.
Too late—Takuya was already red-faced, fingers wrapped around the red string, yanking with all his might.
The thin, vibrant string didn't budge. Instead, a bloodline welled on Takuya's finger.
Grimacing, he stopped, shook his head, and said nothing.
Red Sound and Aoji turned to Koike.
She forced a smile, taking the doll from Takuya. Before she could try, Red Sound spoke.
"Use Spiritual Power."
He smirked at Aoji.
Aoji ignored the childish jab, staring gravely at the doll.
Koike channeled Spiritual Power into her fingers, mimicking Takuya, wrapping the string and pulling with mystical force.
Seconds later, she went pale, sweating bullets.
"Enough," Aoji said, not taking the doll.
He eyed Red Sound. "Only the sender can pull it. No intel here—time for the plan."
Red Sound frowned, rare for him. "You didn't try stealing it with your hand?"
"This morning at Aoshiro High, I thought about taking the curse," Aoji said flatly. "My glasses warned me: steal it, and I'd die."
"What?" Red Sound's face hardened. "You didn't tell me? You playing me?"
A curse threatening death was bad enough. Their upcoming plan—wouldn't that risk him too?
"Plan's not started. You can bail," Aoji said, unfazed.
Red Sound's expression shifted, then he grinned. "Man, you're no fun—too serious. Fine, let's not waste time. Bring the guy in."