Like yesterday, Yotsuya Miko regarded the Tono Zen before her with utmost caution. She seemed to catch a glimpse of Ryunosuke in this man. Fortunately, Mr. Tono Zen was probably not yet thirty-five, and it wasn't July.
This guy... was he really okay? He looked like a corpse.
The thought came to her unbidden. She just felt that he was far too gloomy, as if he could drag even those around him into a pitiful state of sadness.
The standing Ogawa sat down, finishing her reading. Next up was Yotsuya Miko.
She rose quietly from her desk and looked at the textbook in her hands. Knowing what she had to read next, she recited it smoothly in one breath.
"Then the old woman held a burning pine splinter in her right hand..."
Miko wasn't interested in Ryunosuke, and she felt the same way about Rashomon. The scene it described already resembled the world of today, where Ghosts mingled with the living. That servant and that old woman were probably Malevolent Ghosts in this world, too.
Though her thoughts were scattered, she relied on her memory of the text to finish her reading without incident, then sat down.
She extended her Spiritual Sense toward the Tono Zen before her. Or perhaps it was all right to call him by his real name. She looked all around but didn't see a single Ghost. She had even imagined that a powerful Ghost might be hiding on Tono Zen, rendering all her methods useless. Now all that remained was disappointment that her imagined scenario hadn't come to pass.
Taking advantage of the moment, she quietly placed a little something on him, so she could sense his movements after school.
Having learned that the Talisman Iron Pellet couldn't be concealed, she had focused on spells and made some progress during her free time. But compared to the Talisman Iron Pellet, they consumed both Spiritual Energy and effort, and were less effective.
But it seemed she had promised Hana she would go eat Butt Mochi today.
Thinking of that, she shifted her gaze away from Tono Zen for the moment. The spell's trigger had already been placed on him and would last three or four days, so she could track him whenever she wanted.
Meanwhile, Yurikawa Hana was already starting to look weak. The Life Energy in Miko's Spiritual Sense had grown much fainter, which seemed to prove Hana's claim that she'd eaten too little breakfast. She looked even worse than someone who hadn't eaten breakfast at all.
Honestly...
Yotsuya Miko sighed. It wasn't even halfway through the morning classes, and lunchtime was still a long way off.
Whatever... I'll tell Hana to buy something to eat after class.
With that thought, the dull Japanese class soon ended. She hurriedly hauled Yurikawa Hana, who looked like she was about to keel over, out of the classroom and headed straight for the shop below the school building.
On the way, she ran into someone she'd met once before.
So she was a teacher at this school, too?
The thought flashed through her mind as she finally dragged Hana to the shop.
"Could I get three pineapple-flavored buns, please?"
"F-five..."
"Okay, five, please. Thank you very much."
Yotsuya Miko took out her wallet and paid, though not without some reluctance.
Ah... I'm already almost out of money.
After wolfing down a few buns, Yurikawa Hana finally seemed to have a little life in her again.
"Ah, I'm back to life..."
Yeah, my wallet's dead.
Miko shook her wallet. Her desire to make money began to grow stronger.
"I can kind of understand how the demonic cultivators of the Xuanhui Realm must have felt back then."
She murmured softly.
"When are we getting paid...?"
Someone else shared her financial pain: a certain female teacher who'd had to take a taxi because she was running late for work.
The math teacher named Natsukawa Yuki looked at her wallet and let out a wail.
"Damn... Is this really all the money I have left?"
"Isn't that normal? You've spent plenty on figurines and merch."
A female teacher who was trimming her nails spoke up,
"And your father's sick, too. It's impressive you managed to hold back for the past few months and didn't buy a single figurine or piece of merch."
As she spoke, she blew on her freshly trimmed nails and swept the clippings into the trash can.
"I'm telling you, if you could just restrain yourself a little, things might be a lot better. And your old man's illness is... quite troublesome, too."
She looked at Yuki with a regretful expression.
"Want me to lend you some money?"
"No need."
Yuki shook her head, her face drawn as she worked out how to manage food and other expenses for the remaining days before payday. Just as she was preparing to check once more whether she could make it through, her phone suddenly rang.
"Hm? The hospital?"
Her body stiffened. By instinct, she thought of the worst possible outcome: the doctor saying her father's condition had worsened again, that she'd have to pay more for medical expenses and that he'd need to rest for longer.
"Hello, this is Natsukawa Yuki."
"Hello, Ms. Yuki."
After confirming who she was, the person on the other end launched into a long explanation. The teacher who'd been trimming her nails watched as Yuki's expression shifted from irritation to blankness, then remained that way for a long time. At last, she couldn't help speaking up.
"What's wrong with you? It's just a medical bill. We can all chip in, can't we?"
"No, it's not that."
Yuki hung up, still staring blankly. It made the other teacher think something awful had happened.
"...Don't tell me..."
Her face turned troubled, too, and she hurriedly grabbed Yuki by the arm.
"Hey, don't do anything rash. You still..."
"Why would I do anything rash?"
Yuki finally snapped out of her daze when the other woman grabbed her, and shook off her arm in annoyance.
"The hospital told me my dad's condition suddenly improved. He'll be able to leave in a few days."
"Then shouldn't you be happy?"
"Um... [garbled] But it wasn't the hospital that cured him."
Yuki's expression turned a little strange as she continued,
"The doctors there said Silver Pellets healed my father. They even asked if I'd be willing to sell it to them."
"Huh? Are you sure you haven't lost your mind?"
"No, I'm absolutely sure—because they took Silver Pellets around to different wards and tried it out. A lot of patients' conditions improved dramatically."
"..."
Hearing this outrageous story, the female teacher didn't know what to say. All she could do was pull out her phone and try to look up the news.
"Th-there really is something."
Chapter 55: The Stir Caused by Silver Pellets
If Ghosts could affect a person's bodily functions, then Ghosts in hospitals must be the most harmful of all. Patients whose bodies were frail, or who had fallen into a weakened state for some reason, could hardly resist the continual erosion of the Ghosts' influence.
So it was easy to imagine what would happen to patients possessed by Ghosts if something that could drive them away—or even destroy them—entered such a place. Clearly, without interference from Ghosts, the patients' recovery became encouragingly swift.
At first, the hospital had been utterly dismissive of the "Silver Pellets" obtained from the patient named Natsukawa. It wasn't until they conducted routine physical examinations on all the patients in that ward that they realized things might not be as simple as they had imagined.
Or rather, what was happening before their eyes was reshaping their understanding of the world.
"Th-this..."
An emergency meeting was called. The director looked over the various pieces of evidence laid out before him. Though he had seen countless medical cases that had filled him with wonder, grief, or joy, he couldn't help falling silent. That "Silver Pellets" was shattering their common sense: their faith in modern medicine and their disbelief in ghosts and spirits. In the end, he could only come up with an explanation that everyone would have to accept, for the sake of their own understanding.
"This little ball may have been releasing a substance that benefits the human body and strengthens its functions all along. But with our current technology, we still can't detect it."
"Is that so?"
One of the department heads muttered to himself, sinking into the same prolonged confusion as the director. After all, not every reasonable person could accept the fact that a little ball had completely overturned years of medical achievements and effort.
Every department head present had years of medical experience behind them. They had treated countless cases and developed their own experience and lessons. Yet the more experienced they were, the more distrust and bitterness they felt toward this little ball with its miraculous effect.
But the facts were right in front of them. The patients who had come into contact with the so-called "Silver Pellets" had shown clear improvements in both physical and mental health in a very short time. The improvements were even visible to the naked eye. They had also given these patients comprehensive examinations, starting with the most concerning possibilities—including addiction and mental damage. Yet even their most advanced equipment had found no side effects in the patients' bodies.
At last, they had no choice but to accept the truth: this little ball had improved the patients' condition without any cost. Their physical and mental health had gotten better, allowing the hospital's treatment to proceed more smoothly. Most patients could finish their recovery sooner than the hospital had expected.
Now another problem awaited these medical experts: the media.
The doctors had no way to keep the whole hospital's news under wraps. The commotion caused by "Silver Pellets" would soon be trumpeted by the nation's media, and the biggest problem was that it had really happened.
For the sake of rigor, they could deny the facts and continue monitoring the patients who had come into contact with "Silver Pellets" to confirm the final results. It would demonstrate their faith in their own knowledge, as well as their responsibility to their patients. Unfortunately, the media wouldn't consider the possibility that "Silver Pellets" might have hidden risks. They would expose the whole story and make "Silver Pellets" a matter of public concern—including among the powerful.
Next, the media would criticize the medical experts for not living up to their reputations. Then the powerful would begin pressuring them in an attempt to obtain "Silver Pellets." And then there were the patients in the hospital who hadn't had access to it. They had only let some of the patients try it, and those patients had signed agreements, but the others would clamor for a chance to use "Silver Pellets," and their families would put pressure on the hospital, too.
If they didn't handle this well, it would be a tremendous blow to the hospital, one that could leave it unable to recover.
"Ms. Natsukawa hasn't agreed yet, but I imagine she'll understand how serious this is after we talk to her. We've done everything we can to keep this confidential, both with her and Mr. Natsukawa, but I expect the story will get out soon."
One of the department heads spoke up, holding his head in his hands.
"Until this is over, I don't want to see that Silver Pellets again."
"What about the city government?"
"They've agreed to let the police take part in managing things until Silver Pellets can be transferred safely. When it comes to a thing like this, they're more cautious than we are—and more concerned with making sure it's done properly."
Another department head paused. He seemed to recall the meeting with the city government, and his expression grew strange.
"What they meant was that the city government couldn't force Ms. Natsukawa to donate Silver Pellets. She had to agree willingly, and genuinely want to do so."
It was hard to imagine a government taking such a position, but everyone present probably knew why they were doing it. Even they found it difficult to convince themselves that the "Silver Pellets" before them was a product of science.
Since the appearance of "Silver Pellets," they had also learned about an urban legend called "Guardian of Silver Pellets" from the internet. They didn't know about the other people who had received "Silver Pellets," but it seemed the government had already begun contacting them, perhaps without getting anywhere.
Otherwise, they wouldn't be so eager to get their hands on the "Silver Pellets" the hospital had, and insist that the person involved agree "willingly."
"Maybe they've already started contacting lucky Ms. Natsukawa."
Another person spoke up, sounding gleeful.
Most of them would probably have treated "Silver Pellets" as an entirely ordinary little ball from the start, if they'd had the chance to deal with it again. After all, they hadn't gained anything from this incident.
Meanwhile, another person who probably wouldn't benefit from it at all was walking back to class with her friend, Yurikawa Hana. She knew nothing about what was happening. She'd never imagined things would take such an interesting turn.
An utterly ordinary Talisman Iron Pellet, and a chance encounter, had brought about an unexpected coincidence.
Perhaps Yotsuya Miko had never considered what made her different from those psychics. Those psychics only dealt with Ghosts, but demonic cultivators were skilled at far more than just Ghosts.
If she had chosen the Crimson Marrow Sea Absorption Heart Technique back then, this might have been a different story.
Chapter 56: The Price of Not Knowing
After returning to the classroom, Yotsuya Miko heard them chatting again about things like "Silver Pellets."
But her attention was on Yurikawa Hana, so she absentmindedly assumed they were simply fascinated by the urban legend and didn't think much of it. As far as she was concerned, the rumor would eventually fade. It didn't have to happen today.
After all, she was the one who'd given away the Silver Pellets. Couldn't she put an end to the rumor herself? Impossible. Anyway, as long as she stopped doing it, the rumor would disappear sooner or later.
Still...
Looking at Yurikawa Hana, who was still wolfing down her food, she couldn't help smiling. Hana looked especially adorable right now.
"You really are a big eater."
Hana shot Miko an indignant look and kept chewing until she'd polished off the last three buns, too. Then she took a sip of water to wash down the final bits of bread stuck in her throat.
Her gaze held a hint of displeasure.
"That's so mean, Miko."
"How am I mean? If I hadn't taken you downstairs, you'd have starved to death."
Yotsuya Miko tilted her head, looking a little hurt. Then she broke into a smile, as if she couldn't keep up the act any longer, and burst out laughing.
"Fine, fine. I'll stop, okay?"
She put her hands together and offered another perfunctory apology, trying to get out of it.
Yurikawa Hana hadn't really meant to get angry, and she readily let the matter drop. She rubbed her stomach and sighed miserably.
"If only I hadn't slept in."
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