Murder Machine and the Catastrophic Athletic Festival Read online

  Copyright

  PSYCOME, Vol. 5: Murder Machine and the Catastrophic Athletic Festival

  MIZUKI MIZUSHIRO

  Translation by Nicole Wilder

  Cover art by Namanie

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  PSYCOME

  © 2014 MIZUKI MIZUSHIRO

  All rights reserved.

  First published in Japan in 2014 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION ENTERBRAIN.

  English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION

  ENTERBRAIN through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.

  English translation copyright © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  First Yen On Edition: October 2017

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  Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

  Names: Mizushiro, Mizuki, author. | Namanie, illustrator. | Wilder, Nicole, translator.

  Title: Psycome / Mizuki Mizushiro ; illustration by Namanie ; translation by Nicole Wilder.

  Other titles: Saikome. English

  Description: First Yen On edition. | New York, NY : Yen On, 2016—

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016005815 | ISBN 9780316272339 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316398251 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316398268 (v. 3 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316398305 (v. 4 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316398329 (v. 5 : pbk.)

  Subjects: LCSH: False imprisonment—Fiction. | Science fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.M636 Ps 2016 | DDC 895.63/6—dc23

  LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2016005815

  ISBNs: 978-0-316-39832-9 (paperback) 978-0-316-39834-3 (ebook)

  E3-20171003-JV-PC

  “““FUCK! YOU! FUCK! YOU!”””

  A disturbing chorus echoed down the road leading from the old school building to the student dormitories.

  Moving forward in two lines, boys and girls advanced in perfect order, their backs straight and bodies rigid all the way down to their fingertips. They lifted their right legs on FUCK and their left legs on YOU. Their impressive organization was reminiscent of a highly disciplined military unit.

  However, they were not clad in military uniforms; instead, they wore white jerseys with black horizontal stripes. These tracksuits, designed with a prison motif, were the exercise uniforms provided by Purgatorium Remedial Academy, a school exclusively for underage murderers.

  The spectacle of these murderers chanting “FUCK! YOU!” was absolutely unsettling. The menacing brutality seemed out of place in the early morning atmosphere.

  Then—

  “Maina Igarashiiiiiiiiiiii!”

  A lisping Lolita voice resounded over the shouting of the boys and girls. One of the female students walking in the front row screamed, “Eeeeee?!” and cowered.

  Watching their march from the sidelines, clad in a red jersey, was their homeroom teacher—Hijiri Kurumiya. She swung her trademark iron pipe and showered abuse on the panicking girl known as Maina. “Again! Your movements are slipping again, you idiot!! The angles of your arms and legs are dropping. Pay attention! How much practice do you need to get it right?!”

  “Eeek?! S-sorry—”

  “I can’t hear you! How many times are you gonna make me tell you the same thing?! Don’t you have any motivation?!”

  “Eeek! I-I-I do!”

  “You answer ‘Yes, ma’am.’”

  “Eeek!”

  “I’m telling you to say ‘Yes, ma’am!’”

  “Eee-y-yes!”

  “…Are you joking around?”

  “Yes!”

  “”

  Kurumiya’s forehead twitched. The next second—“Are you joking around, you asshoooooole!”—she let out an angry roar and swung the iron pipe, striking the asphalt in a cascade of fury.

  “Eeek?!” Maina jumped. “So-so-so-so-so-sooo—Whooooooaaa?!” She tripped over her own feet.

  Immediately, Oonogi, who had been walking behind her, tumbled forward over Maina’s suddenly prone body. “Waah?!”

  Kyousuke, who had been following Oonogi, collided with him, then Kousaka collided with Kyousuke, and Shinji with Kousaka…

  “Fuck youuu—?!”

  The entire left column collapsed like falling dominoes. Forward movement was out of the question. Maina, who had caused the disastrous scene, was pinned beneath Oonogi and starting to lose consciousness.

  “I-Igarashi…y-you moron—” Kurumiya’s shoulders were shaking, and it looked as if she was once again about to explode with rage.

  Biiiiiiiiiiiing, booooooooong,

  Baaaaaaaaang, booooooooong…

  A distorted chime rang out, signaling the end of correctional duty. Perhaps deflated by the interruption, Kurumiya simply clicked her tongue. “…Tch.”

  Raising her iron pipe overhead, she struck out with sharp words rather than with that vicious weapon.

  “Hmm…looks like you’re saved by the bell. However, this won’t do when it’s time for the ‘real deal.’ Your blundering will lead to failure for your whole class, and it’s going to be a matter of life or death—got it, Igarashi? You are the good-for-nothing blockhead handicapping the rest of us in first-year Class A. Be aware of that, and give a hundred times the effort of everyone else! If you don’t, the result will be death. The death of your classmates—and your own.”

  “……Eeek…” Still prostrate on the ground, Maina replied with a sad whimper.

  Oonogi sat up with a frown, then replaced his sunglasses.

  After adjusting his rumpled hairstyle, Shinji sighed. “Good grief.”

  A garish female student cursed at Maina: “Like, what is the deal with that shrimp? You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

  “Huuh?! Who’s a ‘shrimp’?! Do you want to get smashed, you biiitch?!”

  “Wha…? No waaay, not you, Miss!”

  “I thought I told you to use respectful language toward your teacher, Tomomi Tomonagaaa!”

  “Fwaa?! What the hell?!” the girl—Tomomi—shrieked as Kurumiya grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and began to administer her particular brand of punishment.

  Glancing sidelong at her, Eiri squatted down beside Maina. “…Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Ohh. Sowwy, I’b fide. Ah-ha-ha…” Maina sat up, her smile as weak as her apology.

  “Really!” Ayaka put her hands on her hips. “Get it together, Crafty Cat. If we’re gonna do this, I don’t want to lose… And I can tell it’s gonna be hard going, if you’re already getting tripped up!”

  �
��H-hey, Ayaka—” Kyousuke began.

  “Miss Kamiya has the right idea, you bastaaaaaards!” Kurumiya shouted, interrupting Kyousuke’s attempt to keep his sister Ayaka in check. Extracting the iron pipe from Tomomi’s mouth, she pointed its saliva-covered tip up at the sun.

  “The upcoming Purgatorium Remedial Academy Athletic Festival is the most rigorous event of the year. There’s no way you’ll make it through in one piece with only half-hearted preparations. Listen up, piggies—fight like your lives depend on it. And when you strike, you strike to kill! Every other class is seriously coming to destroy you!! Those bastards in the upper classes are really formidable… They can finish off the likes of fragile new students in the blink of an eye… However! It’s too early to give up. These past two weeks you’ve been spewing up waves of bloody vomit every day, and on the day of the festival, we’re going to make those bastard upperclassmen do the same! This class has come together as the first first-year class in the history of the academy to aim for victory at the Purgatorium Athletic Festival, and you are going to deliver crushing defeat to every other class! Wreck ’em all!”

  Absolute Ground Zero

  YESTERDAY’S ENEMIES ARE TODAY’S FRIENDS

  FIRST EVENT

  —The Purgatorium Remedial Academy Athletic Festival.

  Held in the middle of September, it was the first event to assemble the whole student body together. A total of six classes, from first-year Class A to third-year Class B, would complete a series of matches arranged by the academy, and in total nearly one hundred murderers would compete for points, aiming for overall victory.

  Apparently, the athletic festival was even more dangerous than the Summer Death Camp, and usually there were many casualties. According to Kurumiya, several students had died in “incidents” during prior matches. Three first-years last year, two first-years and two upperclassmen the year before that… How many students would meet their end this year? Kyousuke didn’t even want to think about it.

  “Please let me survive! Please don’t let anyone kill me!” As he accepted his Daily Special Garbage Breakfast Set, Kyousuke prayed to the merciless gods.

  After completing the morning training routine that had temporarily replaced their usual manual labor, everyone had gathered in the cafeteria.

  Ayaka, who was behind Kyousuke in line, patted his back. “It’s fine, it’s fine! We have you in our class, big brother, and that means we’re the strongest. The other classes are no threat at all! They may be upperclassmen, and murderers, but you’ll take them all out, for sure.”

  “Take them out? Now look…”

  “Quite right, Miss Ayaka!”

  A third person shoved his way between the grimacing older brother and his smiling younger sister. A handsome boy with hair dyed light brown—Shinji Saotome, the Necrophiliac Strangler, who had throttled two girls before coming to the academy.

  Shinji smiled graciously. “There’s no murderer as fiendish and brutal as your older brother, after all. With twelve kills, the most of any first-year student, and a reputation as a total lady-killer, he’s the academy’s foremost fiend! He’s the number-one person I wouldn’t want to make enemies with, but also the number-one most reassuring ally to have. And since we also have me, the guy who all the ladies wish would embrace them, altogether I’d say—”

  “Shut up.” A female student delivered a flying kick into Shinji’s leg, interrupting his self-indulgent boasting. A rust-red ponytail and narrowed, crimson eyes: Holding her tray with both hands, Eiri looked down at Shinji—who had collapsed with a shout—and then spat, “…You’d be better off dead.”

  “Awww…” Shinji bemoaned the spilled breakfast in front of him, then looked up at Eiri in surprise. “Huhhhh?! Isn’t it a little strange to suddenly kick someone and say ‘You’d be better off dead’? Are you a demon or something? What the hell did I do?!”

  “Nothing,” Eiri answered nonchalantly as she poured water into her cup. “You didn’t do anything. But I thought you might. You’ve messed with us all along and shamelessly stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong, Shinji, you pervert. Should I cut you down right now?”

  “Now, now, don’t be snappy. The athletic festival is a battle between classes, is it not?”

  “……Hmph.” Somewhat pacified, Eiri pressed her lips into a pout.

  —That’s right. The athletic festival was a contest between classes, so all their classmates would be their teammates. They had no choice but to try to get along—at least to a certain extent—with Shinji and the other hostile students. The many hazards presented by the event made it an utter necessity.

  Perhaps because Eiri reluctantly understood this fact, she turned away in a huff. “Yeah, yeah, I get it… If Kyousuke says so, then I guess I’ll give it a try.”

  “Huh?” Shinji blinked in surprise upon realizing she’d dropped the issue without resistance. “You seem to have changed somehow, Miss Eiri… Did something happen with Mr. Kamiya during summer vacation?”

  “No, nothing happened.”

  “…Suspicious. Even the way you said that is extremely suspicious! Hmmm, could it be that? You started dating Mr. Kamiya, didn’t you?”

  “Wha—” Eiri froze, speechless.

  Watching her face quickly grow red, Shinji cried “Bingo!” and snapped his fingers. He stood up, stroking his chin. “I see, I see… So even Mr. Kamiya, who had amassed quite the harem, has finally settled down with one girl! My goodness, congratulations. Oh, by the way, Miss Eiri, have you and Mr. Kamiya already done it?” he asked.

  “Die!” Eiri slapped Shinji’s cheek as hard as she could. Shinji fell over with a groan, and Eiri kicked his head and then stepped on it. “C-creep! You’re full of shit! What the hell do you think you’re doing, intentionally misinterpreting things?! I haven’t even confessed my love yet… D-don’t ask weird things! I’ll kill you, you bastard!!”

  “Calm down, Eiri, that’s too much!”

  “Tee-hee. When you say yet, does that mean you’re planning to do it in the future? You’re so easy to predict, Eiri, as expected of someone so naive…”

  “Hold up! What are you even doing to Shinji, you uggo?!” The fashion-focused blonde wearing an abundance of makeup—Tomomi Tomonaga—slipped past Kyousuke (who was pacifying Eiri) and Ayaka (who was standing there grinning), and smashed into Eiri with a yakuza kick.

  “Gyah?!” Eiri, who had been engrossed in harassing Shinji, was toppled by the sudden attack.

  “…Owww,” Shinji whined. “How dare you mistreat my precious face?!”

  “Uh—yeah! What is even your deal?! There’s no way I’ll forgive you for laying a hand on my man… You’re pissing me off!” Tomomi declared. “So step the hell off, tiny tits!”

  “Wha—?” Eiri raised an eyebrow to meet Tomomi’s abuse with an indomitable glare. “Shut up, you imbecile, and learn how to talk! What the hell does uggo mean anyway?!”

  “It’s fuckin’ UGG-LEE!, duh. Don’t you know anything? Your stupid is showing! Kyah-ha-ha-ha! And speaking of showing… Check out those undies!” Tomomi pointed.

  “……?!”

  Eiri rushed to fix her skirt.

  Oonogi with the dreadlocked hair, who was holding a hand above his eyes to get a better look, and Usami, who was making binoculars with both hands, both dropped their arms in disappointment.

  A sigh escaped Kyousuke’s mouth. “Looks like our class doesn’t have a bit of unity…”

  “…Of course not.” Eiri stood up, adjusting her clothes, and crossed her arms hopelessly. “A group that’s been quarreling since school started won’t suddenly join hands in harmony. With that history, I think it’s going to be tough going.”

  “Hmm. Well, that’s true, but—”

  “All the more reason! All the more reason, everyone!” Shinji interrupted, cutting off Kyousuke’s hesitation with confidence. Spreading both arms theatrically, he looked around at his classmates assembled in the cafeteria. “There are two weeks remaining until the athletic fest
ival. Let’s all join hands peacefully and find strength in our unity! In order to defeat the other classes and beat the upperclassmen into silence. We are aiming for total victory—now is the time for solidarity!”

  Speaking with a ceremonial flourish, Shinji flashed his dazzling teeth. The mark from the slap that remained on his cheek didn’t exactly match up with the rest of the image, though…

  “At any rate, they’re weird, aren’t they?” Shinji muttered, as Tomomi, who was to his left, gave him some of her Daily Special Garbage Set Meal.

  Kyousuke, seated across from the two, asked, “What’s weird?”

  Shinji looked up at the ceiling, which was filthy and jam-packed with graffiti. “The events at this school. Purgatorium Remedial Academy is a place meant to reform us murderers, right? And yet, why should things be this extreme…? Miss Kurumiya was yelling ‘Kill ’em!’ and other things, like it was normal.”

  “You know, you got a point!” Tomomi agreed. “It’s kinda like she doesn’t even want to reform us at all? I mean, if it was really that chill for us to murder one another, chicks like me would eat you alive. I’d chop you to bits!” She stabbed the air with a chopstick, pretending it was a weapon.

  Eiri, who was sitting directly across from Tomomi, raised an eyebrow. “…Huh? Do you have that kind of strength? You look really weak.”

  “—Huh?” Tomomi’s hand stopped. Within her eyes, which were adorned with false eyelashes and mascara, shone a dangerous light. “Hold up, girlfriend, you doubting me? Killing is, like, super easy.”

  Her lips, shiny with gloss, were parted, revealing pink gums. Tomomi—this girl who looked like nothing more than a pretty face—continued as if she was speaking the obvious truth. “Even weak girls like me can totally spontaneously kill someone if we get the urge. It’s like, we just don’t usually have the courage to bring ourselves to do it! I mean, it’s not like I went over this in my self-introduction or anything, duh.”

  “O-oh…?” Kyousuke, who had been enrolled on false charges in this school full of murderers, had been entirely preoccupied with his own thoughts back then, so unfortunately, he didn’t recall most of the self-introductions. Eiri also wore a puzzled expression, perhaps because she didn’t remember, either.