The Protagonist Always Wants to Find Someone to Commit Suicide With - Chapter 4

Deep within the forest, a barrier formed by massive, sky-shrouding trunks and lush, emerald leaves blocked out most of the sunlight.

Dark green moss clung to the roots exposed to the damp air, intertwining like a complex web that made every step a struggle. Initially, there had been a path, but as Dazai Osamu followed the barely discernible trail into the thickest part of the woods, he realized he was hopelessly lost.

Dazai stood in the eerie silence of the empty forest. “We haven’t been walking in the wrong direction, have we?”

His voice startled a flock of birds, which took flight from the surrounding branches.

[System]: No.

Even though the situation had turned uncanny, the System remained adamant that its directions were correct. Logically, an estate of that size should have been easy to spot, yet they had been circling for ages without seeing a single trace of man-made architecture let alone a person.

Dazai never considered himself someone with a poor sense of direction. If he still couldn’t find the place after all this time, the problem likely lay elsewhere.

“Is my ability still functional in this world?” He stopped beside a towering tree, tilting his head slightly to catch a single ray of sunlight that managed to pierce through the dense canopy.

“I don’t know,” the System replied. “In theory, it should exist, but its effectiveness depends entirely on the compatibility between you and the target.”

“Is that so?” Dazai chuckled softly. He raised his hand. “Well then, let’s give it a direct test!”

He took a step back, his slender fingers sweeping through the seemingly empty air.

“Found it.”

Chains of light unspooled from his hand, blooming like a sudden, radiant flower. A blinding glow illuminated everything around him.

“No Longer Human.”

The Matoba Estate

“Leader, it appears someone has trespassed into our territory,” a Matoba servant reported, kneeling half-bowed before him in a gesture of profound respect.

Even in the modern era, the Matoba Clan maintained these archaic titles. They were not alone; exorcists from other prominent clans did the same. A thousand years of history had granted them a heritage more precious than anything else in this age, and most practicing exorcists harbored a quiet sense of superiority. It was a form of pride unique to them knowing secrets hidden from the rest of the world, they naturally drew a line between themselves and “commoners.”

“An ordinary human?” Matoba Seiji asked, reclining against a railing in the courtyard. He was dressed in a dark kimono, and a faint, inscrutable light flickered in the eye not hidden by his talisman-covered bandage.

His wide sleeves stopped at his wrists, creating a sharp contrast between the deep black fabric and his pale skin. He was a man of classic, refined beauty; standing in such a traditional courtyard, he looked like a noble lord from the Heian period.

“Likely a commoner,” the servant answered. “But he has been wandering the perimeter for some time. His objective is unclear.”

“I see,” Matoba Seiji replied noncommittally.

Lately, the region had been unsettled. Requests for exorcisms had surged, and investigations revealed that spirits from other areas were migrating here for unknown reasons. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing exorcists lived off such commissions but Matoba Seiji harbored a private concern. A migration of this scale was rarely a simple matter.

“We must remain vigilant,” he said, waving a hand. “Keep someone watching him.”

Just as the words left his mouth, a flash of genuine surprise crossed his dark red eyes. After a brief pause, he suddenly laughed. “It seems that won’t be necessary. Go and prepare to welcome our guest.”

Matoba Seiji looked over the wall toward the forest.

The barrier had been broken. No, that wasn’t quite right. He closed his eyes, recalling that exact moment. The barrier he could usually feel so clearly had suddenly been disrupted or rather, it felt as though it had been swallowed whole by something resembling a black hole.

A barrier designed to repel the most vicious spirits had simply vanished into thin air.

If a spirit had broken it, the sheer magnitude of spiritual power required would have been impossible to hide; Matoba Seiji would have sensed it instantly. Instead, the sensation he felt in that moment belonged to a human’s spiritual energy, not a monster.

Putting the pieces together, it was clear the intruder was the cause.

After a moment of contemplation, Matoba Seiji stepped toward the servant. “I am going to restart the barrier. See to it that I am not disturbed until then.”

It was fortunate the Matoba Clan kept a secondary barrier in reserve and that the physical talismans hadn’t been destroyed. Otherwise, there was no telling how many vengeful spirits would have come knocking at their door.