The Protagonist Always Wants to Find Someone to Commit Suicide With - Chapter 20

The situation unfolded exactly to this image.

Although they had settled their decision to proceed toward the Ise Grand Shrine, reaching that side mandated a certain duration of time after all; hence, when passing through an alternative village along the path tracks, they proceeded out to request lodging anew.

This time when requesting lodging, they continuously utilized the title of an exorcist as their mask; endowed with the experience harvested from the first instance, Dazai Osamu fabricated lies to hoodwink people with an even more lighthearted, masterly fluidity.

This could highly likely be termed as an absolute innate genius parameter?

Once the basic conversation tracks were roughly concluded, Dazai Osamu proposed heading out to execute a brief stroll across the perimeter, directing Tsubaki to focus on handling her assigned duties first.

Up until this juncture, everything maintained a perfectly normal appearance; but for Tsubaki, executing a separation from Dazai Osamu counted as an un-acceptable parameter to her core.

The young girl who harbored an extreme metric of dependence toward her teacher completed the assigned work inside her hands with an exceptionally rapid velocity, stepping out with the desire to track him down, before catching sight of the exact scene before her eyes currently.

The individual clad in a brown trench coat extended his hand toward a young lady whose stature fell a fraction shorter than his frame. Who knew whether it was because they had just weathered a baptism of rain showers, but the air felt clean to a metric where zero dust particles existed; positioned beneath a sapphire-blue sky canopy, this spectacle carried a few traces of an absolute sacred aura.

“Lord Dazai, please refrain from unloosing a joke of this nature,” that young lady around seventeen or eighteen years of age looked at the Dazai Osamu before her frame with an expression of being thoroughly flattered by an unexpected honor, masking her mouth to let out a light laugh. Positioned right at the most suitable age metric, her smile looked exactly like a tree of pink cherry blossoms erupting into a sudden bloom, sparks dancing within her glass-like eyes, brilliant to an absolute extreme.

She genuinely assumed Dazai Osamu was merely launching a joke, failing to find it bizarre regardless, simply feeling this lord possessed an immensely humorous and witty nature.

“Eh? Your person assumes I am unloosing a joke?” Dazai Osamu was prepared to spout a few more syllables, when he suddenly caught a sidelong glimpse of Tsubaki standing to one side. “…That truly counts as a pity then.”

He smiled to voice an apology toward the young lady, shifting his strides over to Tsubaki’s area. “Have the parameters been entirely completed?”

Dazai pressed his voice exceptionally light, his tone tracking right back to his ordinary melody, rendering it completely impossible to scan out that he had been clasping another person’s hand merely a split second ago, interrogating the counterpart whether she cared to execute a love suicide together with his person.

“Mm, there remains a child suffering from a fever; delivering the medicinal herbs over in a brief moment will settle it.” Tsubaki had been providing treatment assistance toward those injured or sick villagers prior to this juncture. Fields of this nature counted as content practically every priestess mandated practicing; compared to an extreme-difficulty parameter like exorcising monsters, the vast majority of priestesses’ assignments pointed toward supplying treatment to the populace. After all, absolute zero everyone was endowed with the capability to battle those monsters.

The structural grid of this era dictated that ordinary civilians absolute wouldn’t possess top-tier living conditions, and a minor village of this metric lacked a dedicated pharmacist entirely; exclusively priestesses traveling out to practice cultivation might linger for a brief duration of time, hence they harbored an even more sincere metric of gratitude toward Tsubaki.

Though Dazai’s identity as an “exorcist” was packed with an immense metric of moisture parameters, Tsubaki counted as a certified, genuine priestess, practicing her intrinsic professional duties the exact split second she arrived at this location. Correspondingly, the villagers who harvested the grace directed an ever-deepening metric of appreciation toward Tsubaki; even while her age metric fell that low, they stubbornly insisted on addressing her as “Lady Tsubaki.”

Simultaneously, the notion that Dazai Osamu was an exceptionally grand exorcist anchored even more firmly across their minds. After all, the disciple had already unmasked such an excellent performance, so the teacher’s capability absolute wouldn’t turn out rancid.

Dazai Osamu: The disciple guided out by my person is indeed remarkably excellent.

“Teacher Dazai, at what juncture do we launch our departure tracks?” The spectacle from moments ago surfaced inside her brain anew. At the very start, she merely experienced astonishment and a lack of comprehension regarding her teacher’s action; but the parameters manifesting on its heels were fine silk strands of jealousy that couldn’t be suppressed regardless of the various emotions they blended inside.

Why could that woman be tracked by Teacher Dazai with a focus of that metric? Why could she unloose a smile right before Teacher Dazai’s frame? She lowered her eyelids, using her peripheral focus to track that young lady clad in a kimono as she drifted toward a further distance, a wave of dark coloring rising deep within her pupils. Truly an un-forgivable sin…

“We should indeed launch our departure tracks with total speed,” Dazai tilted his head up to track the sky panels that had cleared up. “The remaining duration doesn’t count as much anymore anyway.”

“Teacher Dazai?” Tsubaki tilted her head, a pair of clear, luminous eyes fixedly tracking Dazai Osamu.

“Alright, then let’s first deliver the medicinal herbs over.”

They advanced together toward the residential hut belonging to that sick youth. Tsubaki held a minor bundle of wrapped herbal medicine within her grip. “Teacher… why did you unloose a joke of that metric just now?”

“Mm? What parameter?”

“Exclusively, interrogating that sister whether she cared to execute a love suicide together with your person.”

“Because executing a love suicide is a parameter a solitary individual lacks the capability to perform after all,” Dazai Osamu responded with total course.

The system indicated it held absolute zero words to return.

“…” Tsubaki actually intensely desired to voice that the parameter she interrogated wasn’t this line, but rather why exactly Dazai Osamu thirsted after executing a suicide. But ultimately, she refrained from drilling down into the text tracks any further. Firstly because she felt a question of this nature overstepped the boundaries a fraction, and secondly because a non-pleasant premonition had recently anchored across her core; looking exactly as if the split second she voiced the text tracks completely, a wave of parameters that could barely be redeemed would explode on its heels.

“Is it this location?” A hut that couldn’t turn any more ordinary, firewood that had just been chopped and brought back piled right across the entrance threshold.

“Mm,” claiming it was a village, the total sum of residential households was minimal after all; this family’s position fell a fraction remote, yet it absolute wouldn’t be mistaken either.

“Disruption,” Dazai knocked against the door panel.

…

“Did your person proceed over to track down Shinya?” A middle-aged woman emerged to greet them.

“Shinya counts as the name belonging to your son?” A few lines of memory tracks were hooked up across Dazai Osamu’s persona.

“Shares an extreme metric of similarity across an individual recognized by my person~”

“A long duration has elapsed since catching sight of Chuuya; holding zero awareness regarding how his person is getting along currently,” he closed his eyes, looking exactly as if he were mentally evaluating the bits and pieces of the past shared together with an old acquaintance.

“Chuuya?” Tsubaki asked. “Counts as Teacher’s friend?” Capable of leaving Teacher Dazai harboring a focus of this metric, it was bound to be an exceptionally crucial individual. Dazai’s posture looked far too focused, to the metric where Tsubaki took it as a matter of total course to evaluate it to this image.

But the system, operating as a high-tech asset, firmly maintained the absolute truth that its host was a spot-on movie emperor, anchoring the rule that whatever text escaped his mouth tracks must absolute zero be treated as reality. It flatly refused to be blinded by that garbage host’s acting capability, instantly puncturing the counterpart’s performance tracks: “Your person is mentally evaluating whether he managed to get blown to a death execution by the bomb rigged across his vehicle, right?” The garbage host had specifically left a present for his former partner prior to departing Yokohama; it held absolute zero forgetfulness regarding that parameter.

“How can that be the track?” Dazai smiled.

The system assumed he intended to mask his criminal execution tracks, and before it could even settle on a method to counter his text, it caught the counterpart appending a feather-light sentence on its heels: “His person absolute won’t be slaughtered that straightforwardly anyway. Regarding this parameter, I harbor an extreme metric of trust toward Chuuya.”

System: I loosely perceive that he completely lacks a desire to harvest your trust parameter.

Dazai shifted his frame sideways. “I brought Tsubaki over to audit his illness parameters.”

Only at this juncture did the woman detect Tsubaki keeping pace behind Dazai’s frame and the medicinal herbs held within her grip, her gratitude instantly multiplying by a massive metric. “A massive metric of thanks for your specific trouble to deliver the medicine over; truly must execute a layer of thanks toward your group on Shinya’s behalf.”

“This counts as a parameter we ought to perform.”

The system found it a bit difficult to continue looking on: “Looks like it holds zero connection with an item performed by your person, right?”

“Hence the word voiced by my mouth points toward us anyway.”