For the director of a global peacekeeping organization, it made little difference whether it was day or night. He was always working tirelessly for peace, and now, his priority was keeping the public safe.
Today, he had finally set aside his heavy workload and let Daigo drive him and Zhou Hong to a certain little town.
Don't ask why Zhou Hong wasn't driving.
During the investigation into the Mount Sona incident, they'd discovered that this burly gentleman didn't have a driver's license. The one he did have was fake.
For his own safety, Director Sawai had called on Daigo, who used to serve in the transport unit.
"Sorry for the trouble, Daigo. I'm asking you to help even though you're already off work."
Daigo shook his head gently to show that it was no trouble.
He had always felt nothing but respect for the director who'd given him the opportunity to join GUTS.
"Director, we're heading this way, right?" Daigo asked curiously.
Director Sawai shrugged, a light smile on his face. It wasn't one of those standard, fake smiles, but a genuine, relaxed one.
"Today, I'm just an old man who's been invited out to dinner. Finding the way isn't my responsibility."
The roads around them were newly built concrete roads, with all sorts of little shops lining either side of the street.
The town was remote. Once night fell, only a few scattered lights remained. Near the town stood a quiet, dark hill.
"Let's drive over there and take a look first." Zhou Hong pointed toward the hill.
He wasn't sure exactly where Obiko was, but at the speed of the Sherlock Car, they could cover the area around Yanino Street in no time.
The car crossed the hill, and the countryside looked strikingly different from the city's dazzling neon lights.
The cool night breeze slipped into the car. Above them, the brilliant Milky Way stretched across the sky, its scattered points of light lifting their spirits.
"Is there really a noodle stand out here?" Daigo asked as he drove farther and farther from the human settlement.
Weeds and branches crowded the surroundings. There was only one mountain path, formed by frequent use; there wasn't even a scattering of stones, just solid earth.
Suddenly, a dead tree appeared in Daigo's field of vision. Beneath its clawlike branches, a little mobile stall with a lit lantern leaned against the trunk.
It was hard to understand why Obiko, who hated light, would go and light such a glaring lamp out in the wilderness, making himself uncomfortable.
Or perhaps it was easy to understand. The light was like penance, and the soba was like a last meal before execution.
"Daigo, it's that one!" Zhou Hong said, pointing at the stall.
The jeep slowed to a stop, easing over to the roadside.
After opening the door for Director Sawai, Zhou Hong gave a small nod. Under the director's understanding gaze and Daigo's bewildered one, he headed toward the stall.
Before he'd even lifted the strips of cloth blocking the entrance, his voice carried inside.
"Boss, three bowls of soba, please."
"Coming right up!" The owner turned around and started cooking as he answered.
The stall was spotlessly clean, without a trace of dust or cooking fumes. Under the slightly yellow lamplight, its surfaces gleamed.
At a glance, you could tell how much the owner cared about this little stall.
Though small, it felt comfortable.
"This place has been around for a thousand years. The food is definitely good," Zhou Hong said by way of introduction. "This is the real old-fashioned craft."
Director Sawai nodded, more or less understanding that this was a genuine thousand-year-old tradition.
Daigo, on the other hand, was completely lost. But there was food, and he'd come out for noodles with Director Sawai, so he was happy enough.
The soba was prepared quickly. Before long, three bowls were set down in front of them.
"Please enjoy." Only then did the stall owner reveal his face for the first time.
He looked like an ordinary person. The only thing that left an impression was his spectacularly bald head, the sort that made him look like a strong one at a glance.
Zhou Hong didn't hesitate to dig in. The smooth noodles slid from his tongue straight to his stomach before he slowly began to savor their flavor.
However you prepared soba, it always had a unique texture. Personally, Zhou Hong didn't care for it much.
But Daigo and the director beside him were slurping away, clearly enjoying it. In no time, they'd finished their bowls.
"Boss, another bowl."
"Coming right up!"
Ignoring Daigo's enthusiasm for food, Zhou Hong rested his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together.
"Boss, have you heard of Obiko?"
???
Obiko's body suddenly stiffened. Things had gone completely off script.
What the hell? Wasn't that supposed to be my line?
With his back to them, Obiko stammered, "O-Obiko? I've heard of him."
"The one who sneaks up behind you at night and says, 'Come play. Play with Obiko,' right?" Obiko turned to look at his customers, his expression a little strange.
Well, he'd talked his way out of it. No big deal. He'd scare three people tonight to make up for the money.
"That's right, the Obiko who's gotten old enough to spend all his time reminiscing about the past," Zhou Hong said, nodding repeatedly.
Obiko opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.
Was he so old that his ears were playing tricks on him, or was something wrong with the man in front of him?
Who was this guy?
"When people get old, they look back on the past. As time goes by, those days always seem beautiful," Director Sawai said, setting down his chopsticks and gazing up at the twinkling stars without focusing on anything in particular.
He seemed to be reminiscing, too.
"Legend has it that Obiko eats anyone who looks back, but I know he only scares people."
"Yokai might scare people to death, but compared to monsters like the Sona Ghost, they're much more docile."
"And he picks roads like this, where old people wouldn't go at all. He only scares young adults. That's pretty gentle of you, Obiko."
No! Who are you, exactly?
You've just laid bare everything about me. How am I supposed to make a move now?
Obiko was completely frozen.
"I know your wish is simple. You just want the village from your memories back."
"Let me introduce you. This is Director Sawai of the TPC."
What the hell is a TPC? Why are you throwing foreign words at an old-fashioned yokai like me? I can't understand any of it.
"If you butter him up, your old village can come back," Zhou Hong whispered.
The whole night had been strange enough that Obiko had gone numb, time and time again.
But he understood this perfectly well. At a loss, Obiko wiped his hands, unable to put his thoughts into words.
Zhou Hong gave Director Sawai a look, signaling for him to handle the rest, then walked out of the stall.
As for the fact that a village returned to darkness wouldn't be the same village as before, Zhou Hong didn't care.
It didn't matter whether the melon was sweet. He just wanted to give it a squeeze.
Before you continue