The King of Tokyo Freeloaders [145]

“Twenty-five years ago… for the me in this world, that should be ten years ago.”

In other words, it happened when she was fourteen.

“That day was just an ordinary school day. On my way home after school, I was kidnapped by a woman. She was a neighbor who lived near my house—she’d smile and greet me every day, so I let my guard down…”

“Kidnapped by a woman… That’s pretty rare.”

Usually it was men kidnapping girls—either for money, or for sex.

A woman would have a hard time pulling off a kidnapping alone just on physical strength, so they weren’t as common as direct perpetrators of violent crimes. Accomplices, though, were another matter.

“That woman was insane. She believed in some bizarre ritual—she thought that as long as she infused herself with the blood of three young girls, she could stay young forever.”

“Uh…”

To run into a lunatic like that… she must’ve had rotten luck.

Just hearing the description, Akira could already guess what came next.

She’d been bled, right? Not killed quickly, but forced to watch herself edge toward death…

“She’d planned it for a long time. She investigated three girls living nearby who had the same blood type as her, prepared everything in advance, kidnapped all three of us to her home, and planned to draw enough blood for the ritual in one go.”

“Because she went in surname order, and my surname starts with T, I was the last one out of the three. So in the end, I was the only one who survived…”

“But the other two girls weren’t as lucky. Right in front of me, she drained them—alive—until they died…”

Akira had read that gambling manga Touhai Densetsu—the later part was all about “blood-drawing mahjong,” so he knew the average person’s blood volume was around 3500–4000cc. Lose 1000cc and you’d pass out from blood loss; lose 1600cc and you’d die.

And once someone died, their blood circulation stopped, making it hard to draw blood.

So that lunatic woman had wanted three girls’ worth—because three girls’ blood would be about enough to “replace” all her own blood… even though it was meaningless.

“When it was finally my turn, I thought I was going to die there too. But right when I was about to lose consciousness, I saw the police rush in and subdue that crazy woman. I was rushed to the hospital for an emergency transfusion, and in the end I barely survived.”

After finishing her story, Onee-san Benika gave a bitter smile.

“After that, I couldn’t trust anyone anymore. I was even afraid when I faced my own parents… Because whenever people smiled at me, I’d think of that woman. I’d wonder what kind of twisted thoughts might be hiding behind that gentle expression.”

Once bitten, twice shy.

Social anxiety was usually shaped by either one’s family environment or extreme experiences. She was the latter.

That memory had rooted itself deep inside her, making her taste a long, drawn-out suffering.

“So when I was young, I was a coward just like you. I was terrified of contact with people. Later, an accident made me blind—yeah, that did turn my life completely dark, but for me… it was also a kind of relief.”

“I couldn’t see anything anymore, so my fear of people turned into a fear of the dark. I didn’t really get over it—I just replaced one fear with another.”

“But because I couldn’t see anything, I actually became able to talk to people normally… Still, I’m really glad you didn’t go blind. Because as long as you can overcome your fear, you’ll definitely be able to live better than I did.”

Onee-san Benika told her other self what she truly felt.

She was like those “reborn” people who went back to the past—she only wanted to make up for her regrets.

After she said all that, Onee-san Benika closed her eyes and returned the body to the other her.

“…”

Socially-Anxious Benika lowered her head and stayed silent for a moment, then looked up at Akira.

“Then… what should I do? What do I do to overcome being afraid of people?”

The last sentence rose slightly at the end—like she was asking herself, and also asking him.

Akira felt genuinely relieved. After two rounds of persuading her, he’d finally gotten her to abandon that extreme idea.

She’d even opened up a little, willing to change. That was a good start.

But he didn’t smile—because a friendly smile might trigger Socially-Anxious Benika’s fear.

She’d chosen to be an embalmer probably because the dead didn’t change their expressions. They were far more honest than the living.

So Akira kept his face flat and asked,

“By the way, Benika-san—why can you talk to me normally?”

“Mm… That’s because the other me… she trusts you a lot…”

“So as long as it’s someone the other Benika-san trusts, you can talk to them normally too?”

“Yeah… probably… At least, I trust the other me. I know she’s the one person who would never hurt me.”

Socially-Anxious Benika said sadly.

“That’s why I wanted to give the body to her… Rather than switching bodies every time, wouldn’t it solve a lot of problems if we just became one person…?”

“I see. Yeah, it would be more convenient if you became one person.”

“Right… so I really should disappear…”

In her mind, Onee-san Benika was already panicking and yelling, “Akira! What are you doing?! This isn’t the time to agree with her! Didn’t you just make her curl back up again?!”

But Akira couldn’t hear that voice, and he continued bluntly, without a care.

“If there was a safe way for you two to become one, I’d actually think that wouldn’t be bad. The problem is, nobody can guarantee that a dangerous method like suicide would make you fuse, right?”

To Akira, Tashiro Benika’s split personality was a hassle. Of course he wanted to solve it once and for all—but if that wasn’t possible, then he had to find a next-best solution.

“And also, I don’t think there’s any need to become ‘normal’ again. I mean—what even is ‘normal’? Is being able to talk to people the way everyone else does really what makes someone normal? That’s kind of meaningless, isn’t it?”

“Huh…?”

Akira said it with his arms folded. Socially-Anxious Benika froze, dumbfounded.

And it wasn’t sarcasm. He honestly meant it.

Even Onee-san Benika was stunned. This wasn’t “talking her down”—it was like he was pushing her deeper into the fire pit. Was this some kind of insane “destruction therapy”?

Akira kept unloading his own worldview.

“You meet a lot of people in your life, but you only end up with a few friends. And even if you do try to reach out, you might not get anything back. You could even get hurt. Why bother?”

“This world doesn’t treat you well just because you mean well. ‘Good gets rewarded, evil gets punished’ is bullshit. ‘The farmer and the snake’ is the real default… And honestly, the reason you’re afraid of people is because you can’t see what’s in their hearts, right?”

“Even me asking you to be Shion’s manager had ulterior motives. It wasn’t me being purely nice to you.”

Socially-Anxious Benika listened blankly, her expression dazed, and asked in despair,

“Then what… can I even believe in…?”

“Simple! Money!”

If Benika-san weren’t afraid of smiles, Akira would definitely be wearing a wicked grin right now.

“Benika-san, stop believing in people! Come worship money with me!”

—

T/N: YES!!!! WORSHIP MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a fan translation of 东京软饭王 by 夜幕下的鬼 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!