Please to Kitsune-sama!

Chapter 159 : Kitsune-sama Goes to Ikebukuro (3)

The children’s book corner did not contain only picture books. There were also easy-to-read guides, a wide range of literature, and many encyclopedias—books from which even adults could learn a great deal.

Perhaps this reflected the library’s philosophy: not to underestimate children, but to give them a chance to learn widely, following their curiosity.

And indeed, the book Inari had been seeking on urban legends was here.

“The Complete Urban Legend Encyclopedia. Mhm… this must be it.”

Opening it, she found the table of contents lined with names of urban legends.

Yes, this seemed the right one. She sat down and began to read.

The Human-Faced Dog, the Slit-Mouthed Woman, the Red Cape, the Fourth-Dimension Hag… All were listed. Even Kisaragi Station had an entry, reminding Inari that the dungeon signboard in Saitama No. 4 had read Kisaragi Town. If there was a town, then surely a station as well.

As she read, Inari began to feel that urban legends existed as extensions of everyday life.

“Mhm… one lives one’s daily life, and suddenly slips into it. Encounters it. Many of these seem to be like that.”

They were absurdities, yet ones anyone might stumble upon. In that, they were not so different from yokai.

Meeting a faceless Nopperabo on the roadside, or meeting a Human-Faced Dog—the details differed, but the nature was much the same.

And yet, such encounters surely belonged to a world apart from the ordinary: an otherworld. In that sense, the Saitama Dungeon No. 4 had embodied such things.

“But that makes it troublesome. If the monsters in that dungeon were mingling in the world, they might blend in even more easily than those in Itou.”

Yes. Every fixed dungeon that existed now overflowed with monsters, causing disasters. Of course, most had been subdued, restoring peace. But Inari now knew that some monsters remained, biding their time, waiting.

It often failed, yes—but having stepped into Saitama Dungeon No. 4 herself, she realized that monsters of “urban legend” could well be lurking unseen in daily life.

Reading this book only deepened that suspicion.

If a bizarre murder occurred, of course people would question it. It would be investigated, and overlooked cases would be rare. Rare… but not impossible.

This was a what-if.

Shion had known about urban legends. If they were famous enough to fill books like this, then they were surely widespread in the modern age.

Which meant—in an era where awakeners existed—was it not possible that minor oddities were simply dismissed as such?

Or worse—that people failed to notice, believing too firmly in “just a ghost story,” and thus missed the hand of a lurking urban legend monster?

“Of course, perhaps it is merely my needless worry. Perhaps I am simply letting myself be swept up in these tales.”

But still. To dismiss the possibility outright would be dangerous.

In the Itou incident, the mayor, the event planner, the city hall staff—many remained unawakened still.

Inari did not believe she could have saved them. But if such “strike-on-sight” monsters as urban legends were involved, then stopping them early would prevent further victims.

And to do that, she needed to know what urban legends existed.

Yes. By studying this book, she could learn what kind of enemy might appear.

“Mhm. The Crimson-Caped Phantom…”

The Crimson-Caped Phantom.

It asked: Do you want the red cape, or the blue? Choose red, and you would be killed in a spray of blood. Choose blue, and you would be drained of blood until you turned blue, then killed.

“What an absurd fiend… And truly, are not all of these… rather murderous?”

Indeed. Many urban legends were like that.

A village where entering meant death. A station from which no one ever returned. A train that came in dreams, heralding death’s approach.

As Inari said, all steeped in lethal intent.

Other stories told of an unfamiliar town at the end of a back alley, or a bus that stopped in a town that did not exist… Tales of trains and stations, now strangely vivid, in a world where trains had vanished under monster disasters.

“…Mhm. Now that I think on it, trains truly did vanish in the monster calamities, didn’t they…”

Having never ridden one, Inari felt a small pang of regret.

But that meant—any train-related specter would stand out immediately “outside.” Perhaps she could dismiss that concern.

“Still, this is quite amusing. Ah, even internet-born horrors are listed… Mhm…”

And so, time passed swiftly.

But having found the information she sought, Inari left the library satisfied.