The 37

 

Chapter 174: Shot by Cupid’s Arrow Right Out the Door

The Kisaragi Train’s driver’s cabin monitors were Kamihara Shinji’s personal touch. As an unmanned anomaly train, it needed no surveillance, but Kamihara lounged comfortably in the driver’s seat, despite the charred, bloody stench. He cursed himself for forgetting snacks—24 hours of global travel demanded sustenance. He could disembark midway, but his goal was to investigate the anomaly that had exposed the train in reality.

Passengers trapped in the train’s killing rule bore a stamp on their necks, marking them as “tickets” stripped of humanity. Grudges, boarding at stops, claimed one human per departure. Monitors like White Cat likely slew grudges to delay their exit, surviving anomalies through sheer luck. Anomalies, however, were crew, teleporting via crew rooms—a rule the train itself had revealed to Kamihara upon boarding. Its unique rule drew anomalies from each station, their kills granting souls to themselves and legend and morality points to Kamihara, as his notebook acknowledged.

Beyond the final station, disembarking at any stop could evade death—if the neck stamp was removed, restoring passenger status. But the dim train, tiny stamp, and foggy void outside made this near impossible. Kamihara, outside the rules, could leave anytime but chose to stay, seeking the anomaly behind the train’s exposure. Foreign disembarkation risked Special Division scrutiny, so he planned to endure 24 hours.

For 30 minutes, he studied the monitors, witnessing human frailty—ordinary people crumbled before grudges, paralyzed by fear. Some, disturbingly, chatted with grudges, only to be taken at departure. Then, at a stop, a girl boarded through the door, unlike others who appeared abruptly. Wearing a school uniform, she looked human, confirmed by the stamp on her neck via zoomed-in footage. Not a grudge, but was she an anomaly or human?

Her entry echoed yesterday’s viral video of a youth boarding at Shinjuku. Kamihara had overlooked such anomalies, but this one had exposed the train, alerting the Special Division. Couldn’t it board discreetly? He held off confronting her, observing from the cabin. Over two hours and two major stops, she acted human—screaming at grudges, sobbing in a corner, then cautiously engaging one, believing herself special for surviving.

Grudges, born of negative emotions, killed without mercy, but as train passengers, they followed its rules, gaining temporary sentience. This explained her safety—likely an anomaly clung to her, shielding her from grudges. After two hours of normalcy, Kamihara deduced her anomaly’s killing rule was slow-acting. Time to investigate directly.

Standing, he exited the cabin’s rear door, fog enveloping him as he emerged in a crew room. Pushing the door open, he froze. Before him stood a small boy, waist-high, with ashen skin, blood-red hair, and black gemstone eyes—beautiful yet sinister. Black wings twitched behind him, and he clutched a bow radiating dark energy. A twisted Cupid.

Kamihara, unfazed by anomalies on the train, opened his mouth, but the boy fixed him with a naive yet feral grin, baring sharp fangs. Raising the bow, Cupid fired a black arrow straight into Kamihara’s heart.

Thanks to [Axing Ao] for another generous reward! Bowing in gratitude!!

(End of Chapter)

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Chapter 175: One-Way Ticket

After shooting Kamihara, Cupid vanished into the crew room’s fog, likely off to other cars. Kamihara touched his chest—no wound, no sensation. The arrow had dissolved. Alive? His anomalous heart, itself an anomaly, might have shielded him. Unsure, he masked his expression.

“Kisaragi,” he said, “track that anomaly. If it disembarks, note the city and inform me.”

“Understood,” replied the train’s consciousness, its layered, eerie broadcast voice chilling. Kamihara’s mind lingered on Cupid. Unlike the mythical golden-haired, white-winged cherub, this was a fallen version. Though his heart might have spared him, he couldn’t rely on it. His heart, while anomalous, could still fall to another’s killing rule. The Kisaragi Train proved it, hosting terrifying anomalies that coexisted peacefully as crew, their rules untriggered unless provoked.

If Cupid’s rule surpassed his heart’s, he’d be ensnared. No death yet didn’t mean safety. Cupid, the mythical love god, made victims fall for the first person seen. If true, entering the car risked Kamihara obsessing over the girl. Frowning, he considered his mission: identifying the anomaly exposing the train. Avoiding society forever wasn’t an option.

From his pocket, he pulled an euthanasia drug and swallowed it. A minute later, he stood. Monitors revered “substitute death” for escaping some anomaly rules—most killed once, not repeatedly, like Little Love. Would Cupid’s rule loop? He didn’t want to die but needed to test the arrow’s effect and document Cupid’s rule. Killing it could let him contain another anomaly, but his priority was the train’s exposure.

Pushing aside hypotheticals, he entered the next car. A girl, Kodera Aiko, sat opposite a grudge reciting its tale: “When I was ill, my son cared for me. I was happy despite my disease. But after days, he couldn’t bear my burden and smothered me in bed.”

“That’s awful!” Kodera exclaimed, outraged. Hearing footsteps, her heart skipped, and she glanced at Kamihara, frantically signaling—winking, mouthing “go away.” Knowing grudges spared her, she feared angering it by shouting. Her subtle warning was her limit.

Kamihara ignored her, entering. Seeing Kodera, he exhaled—his emotions were unchanged, suggesting his death had broken Cupid’s rule. The grudge fell silent, eyeing him. Kodera tensed, fearing he’d be taken, as silence often preceded a grudge’s departure.

“Alone and not scared?” Kamihara asked, breaking the quiet.

“You… talking to me?” Kodera glanced around, pointing to herself.

“Who else? The grudge?” he said dryly.

“No, no…” She laughed awkwardly. “I’m terrified but too scared to move. You’re wandering—aren’t you afraid of danger?”

Most passengers, unnerved by the train’s eeriness, stayed put, only to be claimed by grudges. Kodera had taken two hours to calm down. This boy’s boldness stood out.

“I’m not afraid,” Kamihara said, staring intently. “How did you board this train?”

“How?” Kodera blinked, confused. “I… walked on.”

“I know you walked on,” he said, pointing to the car’s end. “I watched from there. Everyone else appears suddenly, like me. You walked in, like the grudges.”

Kodera fell silent. She’d noticed only grudges boarded at stops, expecting humans but seeing none. “Am I dead?” she asked, dazed. “I’ve read ghost stories—some don’t know they’re dead. Is that me?”

Kamihara sighed, exasperated. “You’re not dead. You hit something strange, so you’re on the Kisaragi Train. Think hard—anything odd this morning?”

Relieved, Kodera nodded, avoiding an existential crisis. After minutes of thought, she shook her head. “Nothing weird. Just a normal day.”

“Fine. Check your bag for anything strange.”

“Okay.”

Though strangers, Kodera trusted him. Unharmed by grudges, she feared starving if trapped. She wanted answers about her entry, especially since others appeared abruptly. They rummaged through her bag, and Kamihara’s gaze locked onto a paper ticket—a one-way ticket.

(End of Chapter)