I Became A Ghost In A Horror Game-Chapter 111: Red Riding Hood – The Place That Remains in the Past

I had good eyes.

It meant I had good eyesight, but it also meant I was quick to catch on.

"Did you finish all your homework?"

"Yes. Because I’m a good child."

"Good. Solving problems is like hitting a target with an arrow. You have to be precise."

That’s why I could quickly catch on to the things my parents wanted from me.

My parents wanted me to be a good child.

So, as a good child, I quickly learned what they taught me and never did anything bad, living my life as a good kid.

But the day came when I realized what my parents actually wanted wasn’t a good child—but a proper one.

It was one morning on the way to school.

A few kids were crossing the street even though the traffic light was red.

I felt nervous, thinking, They shouldn't be doing that.

You have to follow the rules to be a good kid. But it seemed they weren’t.

I grew restless and couldn’t stay still.

Because bad kids get scolded.

"Hey, you. What are you spacing out for?"

"Huh? Sorry. I kind of zoned out."

"Whatever. Anyway, some kids from our class are going out to hang out—what about you?"

"Mm... I’m sorry. I don’t think I can go..."

"Why not? Tell us a time that works. We’ll make it work just for you."

"Um... After school, I go to the academy and come home at 8, then I go straight to the study room and do language exercises, then I have to be asleep by 10. And playtime is fixed at one hour on weekends..."

"Stop! Ugh, you're driving me crazy. How can you live like that?"

"Really? Is it that bad...?"

While we were talking, the traffic light changed to green, and I raised my hand and crossed the crosswalk.

Step by step, steadily.

When I was almost at the front gate, I saw an old man in the corner of an alley struggling to carry something.

“A good person helps others,” I was told.

I sent my friend ahead and helped the old man carry his things.

But because I lost some time, I ended up being just slightly late to school.

I had expected it. But still, it felt disappointing.

Surprisingly, since it was rare for me to be late, I didn’t get scolded.

First period was moral education.

It was the time to learn obvious things.

In order to be a good child, I perked up my ears and listened closely during morality class.

The stories taught in morality class were always the same.

If you forgive the bad things others do and do good deeds yourself, everything will be resolved.

All of that hinged on enduring things well.

My parents had always said I should solve things properly.

So I held back my own desires and made it my goal to be a good child.

During break time after class,

I got up to go to the restroom.

As I was walking through the hallway, I heard a loud noise.

One boy was getting bullied by a few other boys.

He was getting beaten up, one-sidedly punched.

I couldn’t sit still and soon ran up to say,

"Please stop. He’s in pain."

According to what I learned in moral class, if I asked like this, they should’ve stopped the violence.

But they didn’t.

They were much worse than I had expected, and they even shoved me away.

I couldn’t understand it. But to be good, I had to endure it.

I clung on persistently, and they tried to get rougher, but the bell rang for the next class, and they all returned to their classrooms.

On the way home, the boy I helped came to thank me.

"Thanks."

"I just did what I should."

I waited at the signal again, not crossing until the light turned green.

Then, beyond the crosswalk, I saw my classmates heading somewhere to hang out.

To be honest. Really, I also—

"I want to go have fun too..."

It’s a secret, but I once asked my parents if I could go out with friends.

I only got scolded. Honestly, I hadn’t even expected much.

Go to the academy.

Do review work.

Exercise. Sleep. Follow the routine. Eat on schedule. Sleep on schedule.

Endure as I was taught and act kindly.

One day, while living like that, I happened to see a news report on TV about a livestock farmer who had been caught doing something illegal.

A cow was shown eating feed.

For some reason, I thought it looked like me.

The next day, when I got to school, the same kids who had bullied that boy started bullying me.

They were notorious for being bad, so the kids from other classes chose to just watch instead of helping.

I couldn’t understand it.

But enduring—well, that was something I was used to.

Even if things seemed strange, I’d always done what I was told.

Even when I was bullied, it didn’t really feel painful.

The sad part was that, since I went to the academy every day and didn’t get to build close relationships, there was no one around to stay by my side in this situation.

I silently accepted the bullying as if it were just part of the daily routine.

Then, one of the other kids who was also getting bullied said to me:

"I just decided to do what they said. They said if I gave them money... they’d stop."

Something stirred inside me at that moment.

"Really? Then I’ll do that too."

I couldn’t understand it. But if giving money was all it took,

then it was ridiculously simple.

I handed money over to the bullies without resistance.

I didn’t feel humiliated or bad about it.

I’m okay. Because I can endure it.

But—

"Alright..."

When that boy gave in to the bullies and handed them money,

for some reason, I couldn’t bear it.

My vision went blurry.

And when I came to, I was panting, out of breath.

"Haa... haa... haa...!"

There was blood on my hands. I had stabbed their shoulders and arms with a mechanical pencil, yanked it out violently, and left deep wounds.

That day, I was called in by my parents and scolded for hours.

"What on earth do you think you’re doing?!"

It wasn’t until I was slapped across the face that I realized—

I had been subconsciously afraid of my parents all along.

That I didn’t even want to let them know there had been a problem in the first place.

"But... I learned that bullying is wrong..."

Smack! My head turned again, and their shouting rattled my mind.

I knew it was wrong to hurt someone.

And yet, the question wouldn’t go away.

If doing what I learned from the moral textbook didn’t solve the problem,

then shouldn’t I respond in kind?

Even now, I’m taught that violence is wrong—but isn’t violence still happening to me?

Even if I tried persuading them with words, nothing would’ve changed.

Right. What else could I have done, other than give in to anger?

I knew what answer my parents wanted to hear.

And still—

"...I just wanted to help..."

I kept offering excuses based on morality, but what they really wanted was a child who could solve problems correctly and not cause any new ones.

Not a good child.

After the scolding ended, I just sat there in a daze at first.

Then, anger boiled up inside me.

But once I tore up my precious pig plushie—

it cooled off immediately.

Yeah. Let’s °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° admit it. I went too far.

Getting angry is a bad thing.

See? I even ripped up my precious pig plushie myself.

So it came back to me with a bad outcome.

There must’ve been another way.

I went back to doing what I was supposed to do, as if nothing had happened.

I didn’t even know the reason—just ate, studied, exercised, according to routine. Endured again... and thought of the livestock I saw on TV.

Am I also being carefully managed, just to be shipped off somewhere?

Well. Whatever happens, it’s fine.

I’m okay.

Back on the way home again.

“Hello there, kid.”

Someone spoke to me.

I kept my distance the way I’d been taught, without being too rude.

“Are you... a suspicious person?”

“This little guy... Suspicious person? I’m just someone who makes games.”

He pointed at a manual sitting on the desk.

When I looked at the paper, it had a game screen printed on it—looked like a management game where you raise animals and ship them out.

“It’s something our club made.”

“Uh, um... It’s time for my academy class... and talking to strangers is bad. I’ll be going now.”

“You learned well. But tell me—do the people who taught you that never do bad things themselves?”

I thought of my classmates and teachers who had stood by and done nothing when I was being bullied.

“No.”

“Here, take this. If you enter this code, you can download it from the app store. See the ‘healing’ tag? It helps with managing anger, so it’s not a bad game.”

The man handed me a code.

I tried to ignore it.

But since it was said to be for people with a lot of anger, I thought of my past mistake.

So, during my weekend free time, I used the certified store to enter the code and downloaded the app.

Normally, I use my one-hour rest to sleep or take a walk, but this time was different.

I liked this game.

It was peaceful... I wondered if the livestock here also felt at peace?

Caring for the animals was fun, and just admiring the bright green meadow in the background was pleasant too.

The “healing” tag wasn’t a lie.

Before I realized it, the hour had flown by.

I immediately put my phone away and resumed my review.

But... truthfully. I wanted to keep playing.

Why do I keep repeating the same things, never doing what I want?

No. Hold it in. I’m used to holding it in. If I don’t, I’ll be scolded.

There’s nothing I can do anyway.

The next weekend—one hour. Then another hour. Even though I only invested tiny amounts of time, I made steady progress.

I increased the livestock, shipped out many of them, and chased away the bad wolves that sometimes tried to eat the animals. It was a thin, if simple, game.

Ah, a wolf. I have to tap it to punish it.

“Hehe...”

You have to know how to resist bad things.

To drive the wolf away, I tapped it again and again.

At that moment, the graphics briefly changed.

It looked like it had turned red for just an instant.

I have good eyes. I couldn’t have seen it wrong.

But I didn’t think much of it.

I quickly let go of the doubt. I’d enjoyed myself enough—there were things to be done.

R𝑒ad lat𝒆st chapt𝒆rs at free𝑤ebnovel.com Only.

“Right, the review... Be honest... The graphics... stutter a bit... sometimes they look weird... but it’s so quick it’s not worth worrying about... stars... um... four stars.”

While writing the review, my eyes began to close.

No, I shouldn’t... I have to study... but my vision was swallowed in blackness, and when I barely opened my eyes again, I was on something like a train, and outside the window, I saw a giant dressed like an old-time judge lying dead. Next to him was a sign.

[Bound for Preta Hell]...

“A dream?”

I opened my eyes to a pleasant breeze.

Surprisingly, this wasn’t my home.

It was a field straight out of a fantasy—blue meadows and a sweet, addictive scent of trees.

Behind me stood a huge barn.

I didn’t think it was a dream.

It was too vivid. But instead of feeling anxious, I ran.

I ran across the meadow and enjoyed the feeling of life.

“I’m free...!”

“What is this feeling?

Why do I feel so good?

I should be anxious—dropped into a strange place, unable to study like I’m supposed to, which is bad.

And yet, right now...

I feel alive.”

“You’re quite the energetic resident. That’s rare.”

Step, step. The person walking toward me was the hunter I’d seen in the game.

In the game, the hunter served as a helper who taught the player what to do and helped fend off wolves.

When I tapped the wolf, the hunter would shoot arrows.

A stranger, but someone I felt deeply familiar with.

I did everything the hunter instructed me to.

There were many differences from the game, but also a lot in common.

I managed the barn, repaired the fences, fed the animals. Brushed them nicely, spoke to them, sometimes took naps.

There were ingredients too, so I could cook my own food.

I didn’t have to eat just what my parents told me to eat.

That made me so happy I ended up overeating.

Ah, but the hunter said I had to eat these black seeds? Nuts? So I better eat those too.

Chomp.

This was my fourth day at the ranch.

Morning came, and I woke up like a knife.

I greeted and fed the animals.

“Good morning, Mister Pig!”

I smiled brightly as I greeted Mister Pig, who resembled the plushie I had once torn.

This Mister Pig responded well to my greeting.

Seemed like he had a cheerful personality.

In the game, animals with cheerful personalities were easier to manage when taken for walks.

As I was about to take Mister Pig out for a walk,

the hunter stopped me.

“Tonight, a wolf will come.”

Ah, I see. Enough days had passed—it was time for a wolf to appear.

But if the hunter was here, it wasn’t something to be afraid of.

On the first night a wolf appears, it’s only one.

If I took care of that one, I’d be able to go for a walk.

“If you want to go out for a walk, you need to wear a leash.”

“A leash?”

I looked at Mister Pig.

If I wanted to take him out, I had to put on a leash.

Because the hunter told me to.

“...”

Somehow.

I didn’t like it.

Clink.

“This way, there’s no problem, right?”

I fastened the leash around my own neck.

The animals locked behind bars were already confined—I didn’t want to leash them too.

Mister Pig looked at me, as if asking if I was alright.

“I’m okay.”

Just like always—I’m used to enduring.

The night rose with the moon.

One wolf appeared.

It was fierce and full of rage.

When it came after the livestock, I contacted the hunter and had it taken out immediately.

The wolf’s corpse still lay on the fence.

In this game, wolves were evil.

They lived outside the forest, darted around violently, roared in incomprehensible rage, and snatched livestock in an instant—such wicked beings.

The hunter collected the body, and I immediately took Mister Pig out for a walk.

“Yahoo!”

A night walk.

Something I’d never imagined before.

Because going out at night was strictly forbidden.

“Mister Pig, look at that!”

I pointed at the giant full moon.

In the game, the full moon signaled the appearance of wolves.

But the reason I had purposely come out for a walk even on the night of a wolf’s appearance—

was to see this beautiful moon.

“I wanted to go hang out with my friends too... but being with you, Mister Pig, it feels like the lump in my chest has been lifted.”

“Oink. Oink.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Mister Pig, do you feel the same?”

I stared blankly at the moon.

“...The moon is really beautiful.”

Mister Pig looked up at the moon too.

I decided to share a story with Mister Pig.

“You know... In the West, the moon is considered a symbol of misfortune. They say that wolves howl during the full moon, and that the moon holds magical power, and if you stare too long, you’re consumed by madness.”

Maybe the reason wolves only appeared at night was all because of that moon.

That cursed power of the moon must be driving the wolves to become violent.

The moon always appeared with the wolves, like their friend, but maybe it was actually their bad friend.

“Maybe it really does have magical power. But even if that’s true, it’s still so beautiful...”

That night, Mister Pig and I talked for a long time.

It was one of the happiest nights I’d ever had.

“Today is livestock shipping day.”

The hunter who came in the morning said this.

The day when the animals I’d grown attached to would be shipped off.

It was sad, but it couldn’t be helped.

That’s how the livestock industry works.

“...I’m sorry. But that’s the very reason the barn exists. I have to accept it...”

As I gave the animals their feed, I said goodbye to the ones that were being shipped.

I did so with sincerity.

I stood in front of Mister Pig’s pen.

“Mister Pig is small and cute, so I’m not going to send you away.”

He’s not lacking in meat either!

It may have been favoritism, but it was also extremely logical.

To ship out the livestock, I led them to a place called the village.

In the game, the village was only ever mentioned.

All I had to do was find the House of the Great Mother and deliver the livestock.

“...This is weird.”

I didn’t know why, but the atmosphere in the village felt off.

It was incredibly gloomy, and there wasn’t a single voice to be heard.

They just stared holes into me, sometimes drooling at the mouth, and when I looked back at them, they would scurry away.

Was it because the villagers rejected outsiders?

I couldn’t understand it.

But now I’d accepted that there are people who carry malice.

“...I’m hungry.”

One of them muttered.

But I had no food on me, so I thought I needed to finish the shipping quickly and bring food next time.

“Follow the hierarchy.”

The villagers who had been staring at me for a long while said that one line before returning to their homes.

Quickly stepping away from the unsettling scene, I made my way to a house made of wood.

The sign said House of the Great Mother.

I carefully knocked, and the door suddenly swung open.

“You’re the new caretaker, aren’t you.”

“Yes, yes!”

“You’re unusually lively. Now then. Will you hand over the livestock?”

I immediately led the livestock into the house.

Were they planning to raise them?

It was strange to bring animals meant for consumption into what looked like an ordinary home.

If they were going to raise them...

Then maybe that would bring me some peace.

Once I was done, I headed back outside and prepared to return.

Just then, I heard a strange sound coming from behind the door.

It wasn’t very clear—almost like the sound of a radio.

If I listened more, I might’ve been able to figure it out, but eavesdropping was a bad thing.

After completing the shipping, I stared at the now-empty iron pens, my face turning bitter.

I took out Mister Pig, held him in my arms, and started talking about what happened.

“They were animals I was attached to, but actually sending them off... it makes me feel kind of unsettled, you know? And the village today, it felt so weird...”

Chatter, chatter. Mister Pig probably couldn’t understand what I was saying, but he kept responding, matching my words with little oinks.

“I went to the house of someone called the Great Mother, and on my way back I heard a strange sound. I was really curious, but I held back.”

Just then, the full moon rose.

It was the day the wolf would come.

I immediately called the hunter.

The wolf was swiftly taken care of.

Riddled with arrows, the wolf looked like a porcupine.

That’s what happens when you act on your own.

That’s why people need to conform to the world.

“...”

As I stared at the dead wolf, I looked up at the sky.

The full moon.

It felt like the moon was pushing me forward... I couldn’t ignore it.

Not the sound—but the animals living in that house.

Maybe something bad was happening.

But just like when I once risked being late to help someone—

Checking on the animals’ condition would be a good deed, wouldn’t it?

Maybe I was under the moon’s spell back then.

“...Mister Pig, would you come with me?”

Oink oink.

Mister Pig answered.

I didn’t know if it was a yes or a no, but I didn’t think Mister Pig would say no.

For some reason, I ended up bringing the reluctant Mister Pig with me as I headed toward the village.

Held in my arms, Mister Pig kept oinking every time I tried to go down a particular path, so I had to circle around different ways to avoid being caught sneaking.

Eventually, I arrived in front of the Great Mother’s house, and immediately approached the window to peek inside.

Just then, that strange sound I’d been curious about started again. It was a bit dark, but I had good eyes—what I saw inside was...

[Aaah... it hurts... it hurts...!]

It was one of the livestock, screaming as its intestines were being torn out and eaten by the Great Mother.

At the horrific sight, for the first time, I doubted both my eyes and ears.

I stood there frozen, watching as the animal died completely.

Just as she began crunching down on the animal’s eyeballs, she turned her head, sensing something.

I immediately grabbed Mister Pig and ran.

“H-Hey, Mister Pig... why... why can the livestock talk? And why are the animals being eaten alive?”

I can’t believe it.

I can’t believe it.

I can’t believe it.

I rushed to the pens and shook the bars, shouting for someone to say something.

All I could hear were the startled cries of the animals.

But in that moment—

Chhhk.

The animals’ appearance briefly changed.

They looked human.

Then it went back. I could’ve written it off as a mistake.

But I didn’t.

“There’s no way I saw it wrong... What on earth is going on?!”

Because I have good eyes.

Why was the Great Mother’s mouth so large?

Why were her ears so strange?

Why didn’t she have a nose?

Why did the animals look like people?

As I frantically shook the iron bars, Mister Pig walked up to me.

I could read Mister Pig’s expression.

He looked pained.

“You’re a kind child. But don’t do that. You mustn’t confuse livestock and humans.”

“...Huh?”

Seeing my face, Mister Pig shook his head and continued.

“So now you can hear me too, huh. That’s not a good thing.”

I grabbed Mister Pig right away and poured out all my confusion and questions.

Mister Pig, overwhelmed by so many questions at once, didn’t know where to begin, and he clearly didn’t like answering at all.

“Can’t you just forget everything... and go to sleep?”

“...I don’t think I can. Please. Tell me.”

Mister Pig struggled with the decision.

Then, looking into my eyes, he finally spoke.

“This place is hell, child. Not metaphorically—this is really hell.”

I remembered the sign I saw just before I fell asleep and ended up here.

“Preta Hell. Is that right?”

“...I don’t know how you know that. But you’re only half right.”

Mister Pig spoke bitterly as he looked beyond the ranch.

“The punishment we received... was to become animals after once being human.

That’s the sentence we were serving in this hell.

But one day, our hell and the hell of the other Pretas became intertwined.”

It was a story hard to believe.

But I’d already experienced too many unreal things to simply deny it.

“They committed a different kind of sin, so their punishment was to be endlessly hungry no matter how much they ate. And we—condemned to the fate of animals—are caught in a cycle through this ranch, endlessly devoured again and again.”

“...!”

The livestock like Mister Pig are reborn in the ranch even after death.

They cannot be born as humans anymore, and so—even in death—they’re bound to this place.

“Open your eyes, and you’re eaten. Open your eyes, and you’re eaten again. The sensation of being devoured alive... I’m used to it now. So don’t worry about it.”

I couldn’t come to my senses after hearing such a shocking truth.

I staggered into the management office.

“What are you doing?”

I opened the file that contained the list—that had been strangely empty before.

As expected, the list was now filled in.

With people’s names.

Mister Pig spoke.

“Don’t look at that.”

“You’re... Nicole, right?”

I said his name aloud, still unable to shake the shock, and held onto the desk for balance.

Then—accidentally—I knocked over the plate I had used earlier that morning.

Clatter!

Looking at the plate reminded me of the food.

Among what I had eaten...

There was definitely meat.

And the only possible source for that meat in this place... was here.

I had eaten a person.

“...Uweeehhhk!”

The vomit I spewed out contained a human finger.

“Your eyes are special—they seem to see the essence more clearly than others. But that gift is only causing you suffering.

Even if our souls are human, our flesh is still animal.

Don’t try to see the soul. Look at the flesh.”

“...”

I looked again at the vomit.

This time, instead of a finger, it was just a small, nearly digested piece of meat.

Still, the nausea didn’t stop, and I kept vomiting through the night.

Nicole stayed by my side the entire time.

-------

From that day on, I kept the pens open—for them, who were both animals and people.

I wanted to give them proper food, but Nicole said that in animal form, they needed feed appropriate to their bodies, so I continued giving them the usual feed.

Caught in limbo, unable to do anything, I kept myself busy carving wood I picked up from the forest.

“There are no livestock available for shipping?”

When the shipping day came again, the hunter returned.

Nicole told me to just go through with it, and since I had no other solution, I agreed.

But my mouth said something entirely different.

“Uh, well... A wolf came during the night and devoured them... I wasn’t prepared. It’s my fault. I should’ve called you right away...”

The hunter listened and looked at my face.

I had probably become haggard from not eating properly.

The hunter muttered, “So you didn’t eat them all yourself,” and then said:

“I’ll trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“But you’d better believe this too: next time, you’ll have to do better. Unless you want to know what happened to the last caretaker who couldn’t die and was left in agony.”

“...Yes.”

That time, I got away with it.

After the hunter left,

Nicole walked out behind me with heavy footsteps.

“Nicole.”

“Please... could you call me Mister Pig? I want to be called that when I’m with you.”

Why? ...“Then I’ll call you Mister Pig.”

“Good. Kid, let me ask you one thing. You’re a rare, inexplicable outsider. Why are you so obsessed with something that has nothing to do with you?”

“I... I don’t really know.”

Mister Pig said that at this rate, I would be the one getting devoured.

I didn’t respond, but Mister Pig walked slowly back to his pen as if he had already heard my answer.

That night, the full moon rose, and the wolves came again.

I called the hunter, and the wolves were dealt with.

“Those wolves... even though they’re animals, why can they move around freely? They end up dead by arrows anyway. And even though I know they’re evil, why am I drawn to them?”

Maybe—

Maybe if everyone could roam free like wolves, flashing their claws...

Even if they died, wouldn’t that be better?

“This is your final warning. If you don’t hand over livestock this time either, you’ll be disposed of. Pretas can’t eat other Pretas. But if you get crushed, the pain will be many times worse.”

The hunter’s threats didn’t affect me—I had already braced myself for this.

The only new thing I learned was that they hadn’t devoured me because they’d mistaken me for a Preta.

“...”

“How can you face all this so calmly? Why go this far?”

“...I don’t know. What about you, Mister Pig? Why can you endure being a pig, even though it’s so painful?”

We asked each other the same question.

And gave each other the same answer.

Mister Pig looked at me with a sorrowful expression.

It’s just enduring.

Yeah. There’s no other way.

Ever since I fell into this place.

“You’re going to be eaten. If you get hurt and bleed human blood, the Pretas will tear you apart alive.”

“I’ll be fine...”

It’s scary, but I’m used to enduring it.

A few days later, the Pretas came swarming into the ranch.

I shot at them with all the arrows I had made until now.

The traps worked, but my unskilled arrows mostly missed.

The Pretas, unable to die, smashed through the barricades and stood before me.

“I’m hungry. I’m hungry!”

Crunch.

I was bitten on the arm.

A scream burst out from the pain.

The pain of being bitten and chewed—not to injure, but to be eaten—was worse than anything I’d ever imagined.

I already knew.

That this was the ending that awaited me.

The moral stories we learned always said that if you do good, everything ends well.

But not this time, and not back then either.

Then—was what I did... a bad thing?

“It hurts...”

I can endure it.

But... what was I enduring for?

I’m not really sure.

I just kept thinking, It’s fine.

Just then, Mister Pig cried out loudly to distract the Preta biting my arm.

And it must’ve worked—because they turned and started devouring Mister Pig instead.

Why...

Why did it have to be like this?

Even as his guts were being torn out, Mister Pig said to me:

“We just have to... live like this. Even if it hurts, we have to conform... If we get eaten periodically, we can survive a little longer. It can’t be helped.”

Mister Pig endured it.

Even in this absurd system, he endured it.

Because it couldn’t be helped, he submitted to it.

Crack.

It’s fine. I’ve always done the same.

Crack. Crack.

But please—you don’t do the same.

Everything that followed was hazy.

All I remembered was that even on a night when the full moon wasn’t supposed to rise... it rose anyway. And that a rage I had never felt before swallowed me whole.

Awoooooooooooo–––!!!

The wolves followed Red Riding Hood.

The livestock transformed into wolves, baring their teeth and tearing the Pretas apart with their claws.

Wearing a hood soaked in blood, Red Riding Hood marched toward the place where the Great Mother resided.

Upon reaching her target, Red Riding Hood ripped her to pieces.

She ground the flesh again and again, biting down repeatedly to make sure the pain continued as long as the body clung to life.

Step. Step.

Someone appeared in front of the blood-drenched Red Riding Hood.

It was the hunter.

“You really... ended everything, didn’t you. Tore and shredded those bastards who wouldn’t even die properly, and left them half-dead.”

Behind him lay the corpses of the rampaging wolves.

They were riddled with arrows and no longer breathing.

“You made me kill this many wolves. Guess you’ve got the makings of a hunter too. Hahahaha!”

“...”

Red Riding Hood tore the hunter apart as well. She picked up the arrows he had and stabbed them roughly, like awls, to let out her fury.

“...”

Red Riding Hood looked at the wolf who had once been a human—and who had once been Mister Pig.

The dead livestock no longer revived in the pens.

Ah... in the end...

This is what came of her rampage born from rage.

Red Riding Hood collapsed in sleep, covered in blood, and when she opened her eyes again, she was on the rooftop of a building.

------

“Is Red Riding Hood okay, Alice?”

“Not yet. It looks like she’ll need more time.”

We are putting all our efforts into protecting her.

If we let Red Riding Hood go as she is now and deal a major blow to the Sea King’s flesh, we might be able to completely destroy the body and drive it out.

However, if we do that, the Sea King will likely escape into the mental realm, making the possibility of killing it nearly zero.

Because there is a chance the Sea King can treat Red Riding Hood as one of its own subordinates, it calculated that it still had the upper hand.

Conversely, if it loses that advantage, only the Sea King’s soul will escape, and it will flee.

We won’t be able to catch it again, and more victims will follow... Whether we like it or not, the only way to kill the Sea King is for Red Riding Hood to overcome this curse and strike at its soul once again.

The truth is—

Even if she wakes up, there’s no method to stop the Sea King from escaping.

So, to break through this situation, Red Riding Hood needs to perform something even more extraordinary.

Seeing that she has no wings, perhaps she...

“It’s time now. You’ve seen your past—now it’s time to find your answer.”

That’s something I can help her with.