The Protagonist Always Wants to Find Someone to Commit Suicide With - Chapter 9

Did Madara know he was entangled by miasma? He naturally knew.

Although he had never witnessed an anomaly this mysterious before this juncture, he was an elder yokai who had experienced countless battles after all. The exact split second that seemingly minute trace of miasma stained his frame, he detected the irregularity; but struggling at this point was already to zero avail.

“Mr. Natori, do you know what’s going on with this?” Natsume Takashi asked with urgency. He maintained merely a half-baked comprehension regarding yokai parameters, and once his person calmed down a fraction, he turned his focus toward the Natori Shuuichi on the adjacent side.

“…” Offering zero response, Natori Shuuichi simply lifted his head to track the two yokai locked in battle together. Without looking, he knew how filled with suspicion and heart-hammering anxiety his expression must be. Having worked as an exorcist for those many years, he had genuinely never witnessed a scenario of this nature.

Natsume Takashi watched Madara’s posture one that had lost its logic, looking as if it disregarded life and death to engage in raw flesh combat against the opponent his core racking with a wave of sharp pain. It must hurt immensely, right? He extended a hand to touch the trace of blood stained across his cheek; this had splashed over from that direction moments ago, and the feeling delivered by the still somewhat warm liquid was completely different from its comfortable temperature.

If the Book of Friends were currently close at hand, Natsume Takashi could completely utilize it to force Madara to halt, but currently there was absolutely zero time to go fetch that ledger holding Madara’s name.

“This might be triggered by that patch of miasma,” Dazai Osamu extended a hand to mask the lower half of his face. “Perhaps I possess a method to resolve it.” Raindrops blended with sweat to slide down along the contours of his face.

The more chaotic a situation turned, hearing a piece of news capable of letting a person loose a breath of relief felt exactly like grabbing a life-saving straw.

“Teacher Dazai, do you truly possess a method?!” Natsume Takashi asked.

“Though I cannot remain certain either” Dazai still unloosed a light laugh. Perhaps because his posture was excessively relaxed, Natsume Takashi’s anchored heart also slowly settled into tranquility.

“Is there a method to draw them down? I am saying, they must be drawn down here.”

The split second the words were voiced, the system understood his intent. “Your capability might not necessarily hold efficacy against that patch of miasma.”

“I see.”

Seeing his complete lack of movement, the system turned somewhat irritated. “Don’t crack jokes using your own life!”

“Are you currently worrying about me?” Dazai teased.

“What if it fails to hold efficacy what do you plan to do then?”

“We’ll see when the time comes~” He waved a hand, completely placing zero focus on these parameters, leaving the system somewhat deflated.

In truth, it long knew that though this garbage host spent his days clamoring about wanting a love suicide, he absolutely wouldn’t place himself within a dangerous territory that easily either. But knowing was solitary matter; watching him act to this image left it inexplicably, subtly displeased.

“Draw them down?” Natori Shuuichi was puzzled.

“This is a secret technique of my clan, passed down through generations legend claims it can dismantle miasma,” Dazai explained with an absolute straight face, looking somewhat put-out. “I merely happened to learn it when occasionally flipping through antique volumes, but completing this technique mandates executing direct contact with the target.”

Hearing him voice things to this image, Natori Shuuichi couldn’t continue pressing further. Whenever a parameter entangled with a secret technique, outsiders mostly wouldn’t expose it easily. Under a condition of this nature, Dazai Osamu being willing to help out was already highly rare; continuing to drill down would turn somewhat impolite.

One had to admit that the secret technique passed down through generations casually fabricated by Dazai Osamu still carried a fair amount of persuasiveness. Anyway, absolutely nobody knew his lineage; utilizing a clan inheritance to hoodwink people was simply too straightforward.

“But how can we draw them down here?”

This was indeed a problem. The two yokai were tearing and brawling across the sky; the three of them couldn’t even manage a single touch.

“If you do not harbor a conflict this one can provide assistance.”

Holding an umbrella within his left hand, and grasping a bow within his right. The head of the Matoba clan advanced his strides to slowly walk over. There was highly likely a type of person in this world who: “Even while walking across a battlefield where gunfire rises from all sides, can still manage total composure.”

He stabilized his frame before the few individuals, extending his hand to collapse that umbrella to pack it away. His focus executed a slight bend across the young lady with flaxen long hair standing right at the center.

Who is this? Natsume? He hitched a brow deep within his heart.

“Moments ago I caught sight of a massive commotion over here, turning somewhat un-relaxed, so I stepped over to take a look.”

The commotion moments ago was indeed massive. Separated by the dense woodland, even while the sky was still diffusing with fine silk strands of rain, one could watch from the Matoba clan’s main estate the layers of smoke dust whipped up within the hazy rain mist. The trees snapped and toppled, exploding outward with waves of potent wind currents centering on the location where the two yokai battled, tracing a circular isolation zone under the impact.

Matoba Seiji was actually a character possessing a fair amount of responsibility; the split second he saw a disaster had likely exploded, he immediately rushed over on his heels. Though currently he couldn’t completely comprehend the sequence of the matter’s cause and effect, scanning the parameters here allowed him to guess a fair amount regardless.

“…Even in rain of this metric he insists on holding an umbrella,” Dazai Osamu criticked Matoba Seiji’s style to his system.

System: Heh, do you assume holding an umbrella is solely to block the rain?

“Head Matoba, we meet again,” even if he didn’t particularly desire to strike up transactions with the counterpart, Dazai Osamu still greeted him with extreme decorum.

Matoba Seiji nodded slightly, counted as returning a greeting. “Moments ago I unintentionally caught your conversation—”

“If it’s merely a matter of drawing them down here, it doesn’t count as a difficult parameter,” the young clan head tossed the umbrella to one side, his clean fingers cutting horizontally across to settle onto the wooden bow structure. Before the few individuals even possessed time to react, he drew an arrow directly from his back, launching it out within a split second, not even blinking his eyes once.

The arrow shaft bearing white tail feathers took flight along his fingertips, tracing a sharp curve across the empty air, pointing straight toward the bird yokai.

“…”