Chapter 18: S#4. Doll of Sorrow (1)

Flea Market.

On a vast plot of land covered with grass, white tents were pitched.

Neighbors turned vendors displayed all sorts of items.

Despite being in a wealthy neighborhood, I hadn’t expected much interest in the flea market, but surprisingly, it was bustling with people.

The items for sale carried the comforting scent of humanity.

And the smell of dust.

I sold tools from the garage.

They sold like hotcakes, probably because I priced them almost for free.

Middle-aged men with potbellies were especially interested.

However, I doubted the chainsaw and the construction hammer drill would sell.

Buying such large tools at a flea market would be too cumbersome for most.

“Maybe it’s time to call it a day.”

Just as I muttered to myself, someone approached the stall.

A fat man wearing sunglasses and a police uniform.

It was Officer Bob Bojangles.

Bob wandered around eating donuts.

He claimed he was on patrol, but his real purpose was just to look around the market.

He noticed the chainsaw and hammer drill on display.

“Nice items. Is this a hardware store?”

“Yes, officer.”

The eyes behind the police sunglasses carefully examined the chainsaw.

It was like the gaze of a veterinarian inspecting a sick dolphin.

Suddenly, Bob gasped.

“Good heavens!”

Why was he startled?

Following his gaze, I looked down at the chainsaw.

There were red bloodstains between the teeth of the saw.

Marks left from the time spent with the demon Mr. Strode.

I thought I had cleaned it thoroughly, but I missed a spot.

And of all the luck, to be caught by a cop.

Damn. What now?

“These marks…!”

Bob ran his marshmallow-like finger over the bloodstain.

“…Strawberry jam! Did you make jam by crushing strawberries with a chainsaw?”

Phew. Dodged a bullet there.

“Well, something like that.”

“Creative. I might try it at home. I was thinking of making cranberry jam, actually.”

And so, I ended up selling the blood-stained chainsaw and construction hammer drill to Bob.

Selling weapons used in a murder to a cop, it felt like something out of an American comedy.

Bob haggled for a police discount.

I couldn’t understand why he’d look for a discount at a flea market, but I decided to just sell them cheap.

“You’re a good guy, different from how you look. I’ll buy you a beer sometime. Now, where’s my wallet… Oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My gun. My gun is missing.”

Bob frantically patted his belt.

The leather belt supporting his considerable belly.

The holster was empty.

I couldn’t believe it.

How could a cop be so foolish as to lose his own gun…

“It’s strange. It was definitely in the holster until the day before yesterday.”

“Maybe you left it at the police station?”

“Maybe. Anyway, thanks for the tools.”

As if it wasn’t a big deal, Bob paid me, humming a tune.

Watching his back as he took the saw and drill and left, I stretched.

Only a few screws and nails were left on the display. I had sold all the tools.

A sense of accomplishment washed over me. It felt like I had won the game I started.

“Sold out?”

Suddenly, a voice came from beside me.

Startled, I turned my head.

A young woman was standing next to me.

“Oh, I must have startled you.”

I hadn’t noticed her approach.

How long had she been standing there?

I looked at her.

She was Asian.

With glossy, shoulder-length hair and a slender figure.

A neatly beautiful yet seductive woman.

She had a strange charm that captivated the mind.

Unaware of my rudeness, I stared at her blankly.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No, no, it’s just… It’s been a while since I’ve seen an Asian person. It feels good to meet someone of the same race. Like meeting a friend…”

“The same race?”

She tilted her head, puzzled.

Then I remembered my appearance was that of a rugged 30-year-old white man.

Realizing my mistake, I couldn’t take back my words.

I hurriedly added more.

“Oh, that… My maternal side is from Korea…!”

“Hmm. You don’t look mixed.”

“I get that a lot. My dad’s genes are stronger, I guess.”

The hastily concocted lie seemed to work to some extent.

The woman chuckled softly and extended her delicate, jade-like hand towards me.

“I’m sorry for the late introduction. My name is Reiko Ishikawa.”

“Nice to meet you, I go by Summer.”

I shook hands with Reiko.

Her hand was surprisingly soft and cold, which startled me.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Summer. I should have greeted you sooner. I’ve been quite busy and couldn’t come to see you.”

“What do you mean…?”

“I live next door. Didn’t you know?”

Next door?

I thought about the house next to Nancy’s.

It was a fine and dignified building, but I had never seen lights on or people coming in and out.

Ellen had mentioned it was empty.

I had no idea a beautiful woman from Japan lived there.

“I thought it was empty.”

“I moved in recently.”

Reiko said as she pulled my hand towards her.

Her gestures were mysterious and somewhat enchanting, like a fox bewitching people.

Like the Pied Piper leading children with his magic flute, Reiko drew me in.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of Reiko’s stall.

“Since we’ve met, why don’t you take a look around?”

“This is your stall, Ms. Ishikawa? What are you selling?”

“I sell talents.”

“Talents?”

“I’m a medium.”

A medium.

That explained the air of mystery around Reiko.

In horror movies, mediums are like a wild card.

They can be the key to solving the case or the dark force behind the scenes.

A helper or a demon king.

Which one was Reiko?

“Mr. Summer, you think too much.”

“Excuse me…?”

“I know a good way to clear your mind.”

Reiko pointed to a crystal ball on the display.

It was slightly smaller than a volleyball, with a smooth surface that sparkled in the sunlight.

The crystal seemed to contain a miniature universe within, complete with its own black hole that drew in one’s gaze.

“Let me read your fortune, Mr. Summer. Place your hand on the crystal ball.”

“Like this?”

I placed my hand on the crystal ball.

I’m not usually one to believe in superstitions, but somehow, I felt Reiko might possess some extraordinary power.

In a world where bizarre and terrifying events are an everyday occurrence, such power is needed.

Perhaps Reiko could offer some useful advice.

Reiko’s slender hand covered mine on the crystal ball.

A cold sensation rose from the ball, feeling like invisible smoke wrapping around our fingers.

“Summer… there’s a voice inside your head,” Reiko whispered.

A voice inside my head.

Could she be talking about the narrator?

Just as I was about to ask for more details,

“Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

I screamed.

A sharp pain had hit me in the ribs.

Turning my head, I saw Nancy Strode standing there.

Nancy’s slender fingers were pinching my side.

“What are you doing here, Summer? I never told you to fool around.”

Nancy glared at me fiercely.

Or more precisely, at Reiko’s hand covering mine.

Quickly pulling my hand away, Nancy pinched me again as if to hurry me.

I clutched my sore ribs.

“Ow! There’s no need to pinch, Nancy…!”

“Hmph.”

Nancy had never been violent towards me before.

She was unusually aggressive today.

Could she be possessed?

“Are you Ms. Strode?”

Reiko smiled at Nancy.

Nancy smiled back, but her eyes were not smiling at all.

“I’m Nancy Strode. Are you a friend of Summer’s?”

“I’m Reiko Ishikawa. I just became friends with Mr. Summer. Hehe, I live next door but haven’t had the chance to greet you until now.”

“You live next door? But that house was empty?”

“I moved in recently.”

Nancy looked at Reiko suspiciously, while Reiko appeared completely at ease.

I wanted to hear the rest of Reiko’s reading.

Perhaps Reiko could tell me about the identity of the narrator and how to return to my original world.

“Ms. Ishikawa, back to what you were saying… Aaaaahhh!!!”

But once again, a scream burst from my mouth because Nancy pinched my side hard.

“Summer. Follow me.”

“But…”

“Come on.”

Nancy grabbed my right arm with both hands and pulled.

She was angry for some reason.

I had no choice but to follow her.

As I was being led away, Reiko was smiling at me from a distance.

—
Raei  Translations
—

Nancy is kind.

She has a pure heart that matches her innocent beauty.

Despite being the daughter of a famous author and having enough money and beauty to turn heads on the street, she never boasted.

She always acted thoughtfully and kindly.

But today, something was off.

She was forceful and moody.

I was led around the market by Nancy.

She firmly linked her arm with mine.

Her elbow kept brushing against my chest.

The full sensation was vividly felt.

Nancy did not mind, but I was very uncomfortable.

“Nancy. This feels too close…”

“Why? Don’t you like me?”

“It’s not that… just a bit…”

Squishy.

“But Summer, that Ishikawa woman, she’s seems a little off, right?”

“It’s Reiko Ishikawa.”

“I don’t like how she looks. Her eyes are too narrow, and she’s flat-chested.”

I looked at Nancy.

“Nancy, are you a racist?”

“What? No!! Why would you think that?!”

“Because you’re picking on Ms. Ishikawa’s looks.”

“No, it’s not like that… I just…”

“Just what?”

“Just, just…!”

Unable to finish her sentence, Nancy hung her head.

Her white face flushed red.

“…I don’t know. Summer, you’re an idiot.”

“What does that even mean……”

“Anyway, that woman, she’s sneaky. You should stay away from her.”

We bought hot dogs and ate them.

As delicious food entered her mouth, Nancy’s mood quickly improved.

She returned to being her usual sweet and cute self.

“Summer, Summer, look at that!”

Nancy pointed excitedly at a booth, jumping up and down.

It wasn’t a booth selling second-hand goods, but games.

It was a game booth.

The game involved hitting a target with a ball to win a prize.

Prizes were dangling from the display.

Nancy’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

Eventually, we headed to the game booth.

The game was to hit a moderately sized target board at an awkward distance with a baseball.

After paying the fee, I received a baseball.

I threw it with all my might towards the target board.

It was only after the ball had left my hand that I realized I had miscalculated the strength.

Whoosh-

The metal round target board was punctured.

It went straight through, tearing the tent behind it.

Smoke wafted up from where the baseball had passed.

The skinny owner erupted in anger.

“Damn it…! What are you going to do now, big guy! Pay for my machine!!!”

“Too bad. If it had been a water balloon instead of a baseball, the target board wouldn’t have been damaged.”

“You’re on the blacklist from today! Get lost!!”

“But I hit the target, so you should give me a prize.”

Grumbling, the owner handed over one of the prizes hanging from the display.

It was a plush toy, about the size of a small dog.

I gave the plush toy to Nancy.

Nancy hugged the toy with the happiest expression in the world.

“Hehe, thank you, Summer!”

“Wait a minute, Nancy.”

“Hm? Why?”

As Nancy hugged the toy, I frowned.

Now that I looked closely, the toy’s face was very familiar.

“That plush toy is…”

—