The atmosphere was a bit tense.

Rikodu Gaiki seemed pensive. “Aren’t you called Dazai Osamu?”

Dazai fake-smiled. “I also think I’m called that name, rather than the name he mentioned.”

Thanks to Hyakki, his ally in dealing with Hiranyaksha was now doubting his true name.

Fortunately, Rikodu Gaiki’s understanding of Japanese wasn’t deep enough. He only had a basic grasp of the language. Otherwise, he would have known that “Dororo” could be translated directly as “mud.”

Was Dazai “mud”?

In the eyes of those who had been deceived by him, he was indeed a treacherous person, someone utterly untrustworthy. If it were anyone else saying such things about him, Dazai would probably brush it off, letting those words pass over him without a care, perhaps even scoffing at their foolishness, unable to distinguish between truth and falsehood. But could Hyakki belong to those people?

The puppet he liked, the friend he could lead around, the person he had finally restored with illusion…

“Do you see me like that?”

When Dazai heard this, he hesitated for a moment. Because of Hyakki’s ability to see through the essence of things, he was somewhat skeptical that the other person mistook him for someone else.

That person was called Dororo.

That person, whom Hyakki trusted with all his heart, and who had even taught Hyakki how to speak.

Who exactly was the person living in the other’s soul…

Dazai ignored the thorn in his heart. Instead of showing confusion, his face showed annoyance. “Hyakki, don’t come near me. I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now!” He acted as if Hyakki had angered him, avoiding the hand extended by the other person and moving to the other side of Rikodu Gaiki, ensuring that the illusion remained in effect.

Before leaving, he had asked Mr. Mori whether “Human Error” was effective against foreign illusions.

Mori responded, “The essence of an illusionist is a special ability to manipulate spiritual energy. It requires the aptitude to sense spiritual energy, and the threshold for entry is lower than that of natural ability users. As long as you find certain ‘mediums’ for illusionists, they will appear just like ordinary people to you.”

With many illusionists, there are only a few who truly master their craft.

“Dazai, you are the nemesis of all supernatural forces, the ultimate anti-power being.”

“Wow, would I die if I were struck by lightning?”

“…”

The expression on Mori Ougai’s face clearly read: Would you die if you didn’t misinterpret things, Dazai?

Dazai Osamu: 🙂

Back in reality, Rikodu Gaiki’s medium was already exposed under Dazai Osamu’s nose: the trident, the injury, the bloodshed. These three conditions combined could allow an illusionist to control someone’s body.

Rikodu Gaiki’s confidence stemmed from having already taken control of Hyakki, and Dazai had no room to refuse.

“Your personal conflicts should not affect the bigger picture,” Rikodu Gaiki said as he sat back on the room’s only worn-out sofa, behaving as if he didn’t care about his surroundings, exuding a kind of aristocratic arrogance.

“Hiranyaksha will be here soon.”

He didn’t expect them to be very powerful, but Rikodu Gaiki was mentally prepared for any unexpected situations.

“Understood.”

Dazai didn’t mention how he found Rikodu Gaiki. Smart people keep their conversations concise to avoid revealing too much information. Rikodu Gaiki’s two subordinates were dumbfounded, and even the intelligent Shimomoto Chishu had a twitch in his face, unable to follow the train of thought of the other two.

“Lord Gaiki, are these two reliable?”

In the hideout of the Sheep organization, Nakahara Chuuya received news of Kimura’s disappearance. He immediately jumped up and grabbed the message left by the kidnapper: “Been waiting for you, King of Sheep.”

It felt like retaliation, as the other party left behind an incredibly convoluted map of Leibo Street.

Even locals like Nakahara Chuuya were stunned.

“Who drew this map, an outsider?!”

Rikodu Gaiki, from Italy, remarked that the maps here were ugly and gave them an even uglier version.

Before Nakahara Chuuya arrived, there was still a unilateral cold war atmosphere between Dazai and Hyakki. They were in a vacant room next to Rikodu Gaiki. Dazai wouldn’t let Hyakki get close to him, wearing an angry expression that seemed to be for show, but he was actually a bit annoyed, using the opportunity to give Hyakki some time to reflect.

“Is Dororo… angry? Did I mispronounce her name?”

Hyakki realized something was off.

But he believed that the common sense from his training at the Agency wouldn’t deceive him. Fate would guide important protagonists and supporting characters onto the storyline, and as the central protagonist, the world consciousness would take care of him.

“If Dororo has a different background, and her parents can read and write, she shouldn’t have been called Dororo from the beginning. She would have a surname that’s not common… Did I meet Dororo before she changed her name?”

Hyakki felt immense regret. The main storyline of the manga took place when he was fourteen years old, while the anime version’s plot occurred when he was sixteen. The mixture of these two timelines in his mind caused confusion and interference with his judgment. Over time, his obsession with the storyline made him overlook the fact that he had encountered a time-traveling girl and had prematurely met Dororo.

They were supposed to meet two years later and naturally tell each other their names.

“What should I do?”

“Should I apologize? How do I apologize? How do I explain calling her Dororo?”

“I’m severely disabled now!”

Unable to find the right words, a despondent Dororo lowered his head. The pristine life flame of “Dororo” flickered before him, burning less brightly and giving him a chilling sensation.

Dororo, resigned to his fate, stopped thinking…