Amagi Brilliant Park - Volume 4 - Chapter 1.1

Bando Biino’s Extraordinary Circumstances 

“I know I always say this, but... I’m so sorry, Biino,” said Bando Biino’s father, from where he lay on his flimsy, hard-worn futon. “If only I were a stronger man, you wouldn’t have to work so hard...” 
“Dad, you promised not to say that stuff, remember? Here, I made you rice porridge.” Biino smiled kindly. She set the freshly made porridge next to the futon and helped her father, who was suddenly seized by a coughing fit, to sit up. 
It was a cheap, 30-year-old apartment building on the outskirts of Amagi City. Wind blew in through the gaps in the windows; the slightest shift of weight caused the floorboards to squeak. The tatami mats were old and thick with the smells of years past, and there were dark stains on the ceilings. 
They had moved here six months ago. There was no real furniture. One of the burners in the kitchen had broken down, and the water heater had never worked from the start. 
“Our neighbor gave me some of their fresh-picked eggplant today,” said Biino. “I boiled it nice and soft, so eat up, okay?” 
“Yes... I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Biino.” He gripped the spoon in his frail hand and slurped up the rice porridge. His movements were weak. His fingers were trembling. 
Once... Once, her father had been a Wall Street power broker, moving tens of millions of dollars per day, jet-setting around the world shouting “Buy!” and “Sell!” into his phone. That father, who had once raked up money from stupid clients, who had made the poor weep, who had lived in a penthouse apartment with a Central Park view, who had hosted parties for dozens of clients each week, who had driven around in a Ferrari that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars... Now he was as thin as a rail, living in an apartment like a poorhouse from a period drama, sleeping all day and depending on her! Slurping down rice porridge with chunks of boiled eggplant! Whispering to her things like “Ahh... It’s delicious...!” 
Tears spilled from the corners of her father’s eyes. It was a scene like out of a TV melodrama. There weren’t many men out there who could cry like this— those that could certainly didn’t work on Wall Street. 
Ahh, what is the nature of happiness? As her thoughts drifted to more profound questions, Bando Biino looked at the clock in the room. “Uh-oh. I’ve got to get to my job.” 
“Of course... of course... how are things at the cafe?” her father asked. 
“I got fired from the cafe,” Biino admitted. 
“Ahh, I see... now it’s the hamburger place, right?” 
“I got fired from the hamburger place.” 
“Um... where was it, then?” he foundered on. “Oh, yes... the paper route.” 
“Fired from that, too,” Biino sighed. 
She’d also been fired from the family restaurant, the convenience store, the bento shop, and the pizza delivery joint. She was doing everything within her power to succeed, but none of her jobs ever seemed to last. Still, she couldn’t afford to get down in the dumps. She had to find a way to graduate from high school while working hard and making money, then find a proper career and become an amazing breadwinner for her family! ...Such as it was, anyway, since her mother had run off with another man, her big brother was in a mental institution, and her little brother had been sent to live with distant relatives. 
“I’m so sorry, Biino...” her father apologized. “I can’t even keep track of where you’re working...” 
“It’s okay, Dad,” she reassured him. “I’ll just tell you: I’m working at an amusement park right now.” 
“Oh, an amusement park?” 
“Yeah. It’s Amagi Brilliant Park! I already made trouble for them at the interview, but they still hired me, you know? They’re very nice people, so don’t worry about it!” 
“Yes. Yes...” 
“Anyway, that’s where I’m working today. I left lunch and water next to your pillow. See you later, okay?” she said with a bright smile, then left the cheap apartment behind. Just as she reached the bottom of the creaking stairway, she ran into the Landlady. She was an old lady in her 80s, but her posture was ramrod straight. 
“Bando-san,” the Landlady said. 
“Ah, Ms. Landlady... good morning!” 
The Landlady blocked Biino’s way, her eyes narrowed and lips twisted in a scowl. “Don’t ‘good morning’ me. Where is last month’s rent?” 
“Huh? I’ve been paying my rent every month on time...” Biino told her. 
“You wicked child! You think you can lie right to my face?! I’ve got a sharper mind than you think! You can’t fool me just because I’m an old lady!” 
“Ah, um, but I paid it in full... Oh, I know! The receipt you gave me last week...” 
She hurriedly pulled the receipt from deep in her bag. The Landlady snatched it from her hands and tore it into pieces right before her eyes. 
“Ah...” 
“Forgery!” the Landlady screamed at her, spittle flying. 
“Ms. Landlady, please!” Biino begged. 
Six months ago, when they had first moved in, the Landlady had been a kind, on-the-ball woman who had cried when she’d heard Biino’s family situation. She really had been late with the rent a few times, but when that happened, the Landlady had simply laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Biino-chan. Half the rooms in this rotten place are empty anyway!” 
But recently, her attitude had taken a sharp turn. If Biino turned in the rent by the due date, she wouldn’t say anything kind; she’d just grumble. Sometimes, like now, she’d insist she hadn’t really paid it. 
“I-I don’t know what to do,” Biino stammered. “Please calm down, Ms. Landlady. There must be some kind of misunderstanding...” 
“This is part of some scheme of yours, isn’t it?” the Landlady accused, “Yes, that’s got to be it! I thought you were a good girl at first... but you’re a vixen at heart! You’re trying to seduce my husband and my sons when I’m not looking, aren’t you?!” 
“N-No, certainly not!” Biino objected. “Um, I’ve never even met your sons!” 
“You liar! I know the truth! You act all innocent, but it’s just a facade!” The Landlady ranted. “You can’t fool me, you understand?!” 
“That’s not true. I...” Biino looked at her watch. It was a Hermes watch her father had bought for her, back when they were wealthy. It was really too much for her now, but it was the one thing she couldn’t bear to take to the pawn shop. 
“Oh no, oh no! I’m going to be late,” Biino panicked. “We can talk about the rent later!” 
“Wait!” the Landlady fumed. 
“Sorry!” Biino told her. “I need to go!” 
The landlady grabbed for her, but she fled past, then ran to her scooter. It was a Yamaha Vino that was over ten years old, which she’d managed to acquire for next to nothing. It was like a faithful dog to her, with its charming, curvy design. 
Boarding complete! Taking off! 
“Wait, Bando-san!” the Landlady screamed after her, but Biino just put on speed. She raced as fast as she could until the voice faded into the distance. Once she made it to work, she thought, she could forget about this everyday stuff. Even if it was just a brief respite...

On Saturdays, Kanie Seiya took his bike to the park. It was a long, exhausting uphill ride to the employee gate. He was the park’s acting manager—the top position in Amagi Brilliant Park—and while he knew it was a bit unbecoming for someone in his position to pant his way to work on a bike, he wanted to avoid using the buses where possible. After all, his wage was only 850 yen per hour—the minimum wage for metropolitan Tokyo—with no paid overtime. 
What kind of world is this where a manager makes that as his own wage? he wondered sometimes. But because of the park’s financial woes, he didn’t want to waste a single yen. Besides, if he paid himself that wage, it made it harder for the other members of the cast to complain about what he paid them. Therefore, riding his bike to work was the right move on every front! 
“Whew... whew...” He wheezed through the employee gate, then parked his bike in the lot next to the general affairs building. Just as he got it chained up, he heard a loud screech of brakes behind him. “...?!” 
He turned back and saw what had happened: A delivery truck had gotten into an accident with a scooter. The truck’s driver got out of his cab, face pale. The unoccupied scooter lay in the middle of the road; its rider lay prone on the ground, a short distance away. 
“Hey, are you okay?!” Seiya shouted, running up to the rider before the panicking truck driver could. 
“Y-Yeah... Sorry. Sorry...” The bike’s rider picked herself up and shakily took off her helmet. It was Bando Biino, a part-time worker they’d hired in April. She looked up at Seiya and blinked her large eyes in surprise. “Oh... good morning, Kanie-san.” 
“Huh? Oh...” said Seiya, bewildered. 
“I... I guess I was a little careless,” Biino admitted. “Um, I’m fine, though! T-Totally A-OK!” 
“Uh, but... You seem to be bleeding a lot...” Seiya observed. Something seemed to have cracked through her helmet, and blood was trickling down from her temple. Still, Biino just smiled brightly at him. 
It was only when Seiya pointed it out that Biino finally noticed she was bleeding. “Huh? What? Um... sorry! It’ll dry, okay? It’s not that bad; it’ll dry right away!” 
“Uh, I’m not worried about whether it’ll dry or—” he tried to explain. 
“Anyway, I’m fine!” Biino told him brightly. “I just can’t be late! I’ll c-clean up my scooter later, but I need to get to work first!” 
“Uh, I should probably call an ambul—” 
“Don’t need one! Really, sorry for the trouble! Bye! Bye...” Biino started to walk away, but her gait was uneasy. Fresh drops of blood scattered across the asphalt. 
Should I stop her, Seiya wondered, or let her go? While Seiya and truck driver watched in awe, she took four steps, five steps... 
“B... Blugh...” 
...And then she fell over. 
“Augh!” Seiya yelled, “That’s why I said you need an ambulance...” 
“P-Please... no... You’ve helped me out so many times. I can’t be a burden to the park...” Biino said, her blood-stained fingertips trembling. 
“Then at least go to the infirmary!” he told her. “Come on, get a grip!” 
“Sorry... Sorry...” 
With the truck driver’s help, Seiya picked her up. 

Despite her terrible accident that morning, Bando Biino was back at work before noon. She’d lost a shocking amount of blood, but she was still a tough girl. Normally, they would have sent her to a hospital to have a full set of scans done, but she staunchly refused the offer and threw herself back into her work. 
“Head injuries are no laughing matter, you know,” said Sento Isuzu, Seiya’s secretary, after he explained what had happened. They were both in the underground passage, dressed in street clothes, and heading towards the onstage area to do some surprise inspections. 
“Subarachnoid hemorrhaging and the like,” Isuzu continued. “I hope she won’t go home tonight, suddenly take ill, and collapse. It might cause her bereaved guardian to come by later, ask why we didn’t send her to the hospital right away, and sue us.” 
“Well... I know you’re right,” Seiya agreed helplessly. “She just intimidated me somehow...” 
“...... I’ve been wondering this for a while. Why are you so timid around Bando-san?” Isuzu asked, peering at him intently. There was no sign of jealousy or suspicion there; she seemed genuinely confused about his treatment of Biino. 
“I wouldn’t say I’m timid... well, maybe I am,” Seiya said haltingly. “Hmm... I’m not sure how to put it. She just...” 
It was Seiya who had decided to accept her application, in the end, and now he was starting to regret it. He still didn’t know much about her: She went to an all-girls school in Amagi City (a different school from his, of course); she had a lively, cheerful personality, and she was more passionate about her work than most; she was great with the guests. 
She hadn’t objected at all when she learned the strange fact that Seiya, her peer, was the park’s acting manager. She’d also readily accepted the fact that the park’s cast were (mostly) genuine fairies from a “magical realm,” and she hadn’t told anyone about it, either. 
She was good looking, too, and curvy. She had an aura that just seemed to charm everyone around her. And not just men, either— it was more of an all-ages charm; something that appealed to women and children, too. It was enough that Seiya was considering using her in an idol-like role for park PR. She was, quite frankly, a diamond in the rough. But despite all that... 
“She just keeps bleeding!” he sighed. 
“Yes. I see...” Isuzu nodded, as if that explained everything. 
“She was bleeding the day of her first interview, then she came to the orientation and tore the wound open again. And there’s always bloodshed going on around her attraction... I just... No matter what... I can’t help but want to get away from her all the time!” he finished. 
“But Kanie-kun,” Isuzu pointed out, “every person has flaws.” 
“That’s one flaw I can’t handle,” he grumbled. 
“And at the moment, no guests have been injured...” Isuzu continued persuasively. 
“By the time they have been,” he objected, “it’ll be too late!” 
“But we can still keep her on staff, can’t we?” Isuzu wanted to know. 
“Ah, yeah. Yeah... I guess we can.” 
That was right. Seiya didn’t have time to rack his brain over a single part-time worker; his job right now was getting people to the park. He passed through the door of exit A3, the door for employees coming and going from of one of the park’s five areas, Sorcerer’s Hill. It was around noon, on a Saturday. 
As for the number of guests currently visible onstage—yes, it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was quite a bit better than he’d expected. Cheerful music played from the park’s speakers. The guests looked cheerful as they came and went. There were even lines for the few attractions he could see! 
“Things seem to be going well,” Isuzu (who had come along with him to observe) said, with some slight cheer in her voice. 
Their recent series of improvements did seem to be pulling in the guests. Part of that was the attraction renovations, of course, but the live show they’d started during Golden Week had also gotten rave reviews. 
Especially the live show. Moffle and the others had certainly worked hard, but it was the show’s villain, the red dragon Rubrum, who had really gotten people talking. He was intimidating in a way that couldn’t be explained with mere holography or giant props. The children cried, the parents raged... 
But mostly, the customers cheered with joy, and the resultant word-of-mouth had been drawing people in since the end of Golden Week. It was good enough that some foreign special effects studios were coming by to ask questions. 
They’d also received some complaints from Maple Land that using a dragon in a performance was crossing a line, but Seiya didn’t care. He had to use every resource at his disposal. Looking just at this month’s numbers, attendance was at least 350% of last year. That was three and a half times greater! 
Of course, that was just because last year’s numbers had so been pathetic; their new target of three million was still completely unrealistic at this rate. 
“Attendance is increasing steadily, week by week. May’s second week drew in about 30,000, and its third week about 35,000. The fourth was about 42,000. If I plot this growth on a graph...” Isuzu fiddled with her tablet, then revealed a simple line graph. “By next March, we should be drawing 10 million people to the park per week.” 
“What’s that a chart of?” Seiya asked. “A killer virus pandemic?” Even zombies in the horror movies multiplied at a slower rate than that. 
“It’s just a simple calculation. It doesn’t make you feel better?” Isuzu was probably trying to cheer him up in her own way, but thoughts of attendance couldn’t do anything but depress him. 
It was true that attendance was trending upwards. No, it wasn’t just trending—it was rising, and rising fast, at that. Its speed was enough to surprise even Seiya (even though of course, it had been his intention). They might even reach last year’s attendance quota before summer break was over— but it still wouldn’t be enough to bring them to three million. 
“...... We can think about it later,” he told her. “First, let’s run our inspection.” 
“Mm. Ah... of course,” Isuzu agreed. 
Seiya shifted gears and walked around Sorcerer’s Hill with her. It was bustling all over with guests. As acting manager, he would be performing surprise inspections. Were there any issues with the cast’s customer service? Any lapses in safety precautions? Any places that weren’t getting properly cleaned? He’d be like the villainous mother-in-law in a daytime drama, stingily checking every fine detail. 
“Did you see any problems?” Isuzu asked after they’d had a look around. 
Seiya fell deep into thought. “Hmm...” He hadn’t, really. Thanks to his repeatedly telling the cast how to do things these past three months, most of the major problems had finally been eliminated. That was a great thing, but being unable to say anything made him feel like he wasn’t really doing his job, which put him in a black mood anyway. 
Isuzu, perhaps picking up on his feelings, spoke with a composed expression. “I think everyone’s worked very hard.” 
“Hmm... well, that’s true,” he admitted reluctantly. Nitpicking things just for their own sake wouldn’t help anyone. Maybe he needed to offer praise where appropriate, too. 
“Now we have to visit the attractions,” she told him. “Shall we?” 
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Let’s have a look.”

They headed for the newly renovated Moffle’s House of Sweets. On Moffle’s insistence (and under the pretense that it was “for a limited time”), its whimsical world had been shifted to one of action horror—a move which had proven to be surprisingly popular. You were under attack by evil and hostile “naughty mice,” which you could face with a wide variety of extremely realistic and substantial weapons. It combined a variety of sound and lighting elements, and more game-like elements seemed to be added every day. 
It wasn’t just superficial horror, either. It was seriously hardcore; intense enough to be traumatic for preschoolers, while teens found it thoroughly thrilling. People loved it. Word about Moffle’s House of Sweets had already spread, and the wait in the queue had grown to an hour long. 
“Well, fumo? Well, fumo?” In between guest interactions, Moffle walked to Seiya, grinning. He used to dress up like a patisserie, but now he was dressed like a field commander, complete with a bulletproof vest and ammo belt. 
“The renovation’s a huge success, fumo,” Moffle continued. “Look at that line of guests! Hmm, I forget, who fought the renovation again? Who was it again? Who was it again?” 
“Ugh...” Seiya groaned. Of course, he was the one who had fought against it. In the end, though, he’d still given the renovations his stamp of approval, so he wished the rat would show a little gratitude. Show some gratitude, rat! he screamed internally. But starting a fight here wouldn’t do any good, so... 
“...I’m glad that people like it,” Seiya said, from between clenched teeth. “But we need to start thinking about guest turnover. When we hit July, the lines will grow to be more than an hour long. We’ll need to find a way to speed them through the shooting range, right?” 
“Moffu... well... hmm. That’s true, fumo... I’ll think about it, fumo.” His feeling of superiority extinguished, Moffle folded his arms and sank into thought. He could be surprisingly earnest when it came to things like this. 
“Think it over in time for next week’s meeting, okay?” Seiya requested. 
“Roger, fumo,” the mascot replied. 
“Moffle-san! The guests from Group B will be entering Hamburger Hall in one minute! Get ready!” Chujo Shiina’s voice echoed from the greenroom speaker. She was a part-time worker who served as Moffle’s assistant. 
“Roger that, fumo.” 
The guest group reaching the end of the attraction was about to engage in the fierce battle of its final room, Hamburger Hall. Moffle would dash in like a whirlwind, clear out a regiment of naughty mice, then rally the guests against the final boss, Naughty Mouse Overlord. 
It all felt a bit inexplicable to Seiya, but for some reason, people liked that too. “...I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said. “Why does the House of Sweets have a Hamburger Hall?” 
“It’s part of the backstory, fumo,” Moffle explained. “It earned the name because even veteran soldiers say, ‘this room will make hamburger of us.’ It adds to the verisimilitude.” 
“It feels like bad taste,” Seiya commented. 
“Well, I can’t expect a boy like you to understand. It’s very cool and gritty, fumo.” 
“Is it really?” Seiya wanted to know. 
“Well, I should be going. I’ve got to fight the overlord for the tenth time today, fumo.” Moffle scooped up a heavy looking machine gun (probably an M2) and wielded it recklessly as he ran out of the greenroom. 
“I hope none of the guests gets hurt...” Seiya muttered. 
The previously silent Isuzu spoke. “It’s still just a laser gun,” she told him. “I’m sure it will be fine.” 
“I guess. ...Even so.” 
“What?” 
“I thought this geeky renovation would be a huge problem,” Seiya admitted. “I’m honestly surprised it’s so popular.” 
Isuzu tilted her head. “I agree that it’s geeky. But why would that a problem?” 
“If you’re dealing with a limited audience, you suit your product to that audience,” Seiya explained. “If you’re dealing with boys under five, you do train stuff and superheroes. If you’re dealing with girls of that age, you do henshin idols. But high school couples, who are coming to have fun on a date, will find both of those things boring.” 
It was one thing for manga, anime, and games to have specialized audiences, but this was an amusement park: They had to accommodate people of all age groups. Targeting a particular subgroup would make it harder to please the others. 
“So in theory, you should make things to appeal to a variety of age groups, right?” he asked. 
“...You may be right,” Isuzu concluded thoughtfully. 
“The reason I was against Moffle’s proposed renovation was because it targeted a limited audience. The naughty mice are now grotesque; you’re fighting them with vivid, lifelike weapons... I mean, personally, I think I’d enjoy it; I’m young, and I like modern video games,” Seiya said. “But families and dating couples can’t possibly enjoy it. They’ll just find it dark and stultifying.” 
“I’m not so sure,” Isuzu argued. “I saw a number of dating couples and families in that line. It seems like they really do enjoy the renovation that Moffle came up with.” 
“You think they enjoy shooting mice and watching them scream?” Seiya wanted to know. 
“No, that’s not the part that they enjoy. It’s... how to put it...” Isuzu put a fingertip to her chin and thought. She didn’t seem certain about it herself. “It’s hard to say... I think it’s the fact that Lord Moffle is being faithful to what he truly enjoys. The guests pick up on that enthusiasm.” 
“That’s drivel,” Seiya countered immediately, though he wasn’t sure why he was so annoyed about it, himself. “That kind of starry-eyed optimism won’t bring in guests. Please. Just because he enjoys it? If that was all it took to attract guests, no one would ever have a problem.” He let out a bitter laugh. “...What?” 
“Nothing,” said Isuzu, scowling as she peered into his face. “I just found it strange.” 
“...?” Seiya waited for her to continue. 
“Do you remember? Long ago, when I brought you to this park, you said, ‘If you want to make people dream, first, you need to believe in that dream.’ That was the first time I ever really believed in you,” Isuzu told him, “for reasons besides the revelation.” 
“......” He wasn’t sure how to respond. 
“But now you’re saying the exact opposite,” Isuzu remarked. 
Her words had taken him aback. It didn’t feel like she’d hit him below the belt; it was more like getting a diagnosis of serious illness from your doctor. 
“At the very least, Moffle believes in the dream he’s bringing his guests, and the same goes for the others,” she told him. “But you—the person who should believe in that most of all—seem to have stopped believing in it.” 
“That’s...” That’s because I’m acting manager now, Seiya thought. I’m not an outsider like I was then. Bringing three million people to this park in a year—that’s my responsibility now. I can’t afford to be so idealistic— Maybe that’s what she imagined his argument would be. 
“It isn’t like that. I’m not chastising you,” Isuzu said, as if concerned. Even though she was standing right next to him, her hand seemed to drift a little closer to his. 
If her fingers would keep going, then squeeze my hand, he thought secretly, how much better would that make me feel? 
“It’s just... I’m worried that we’re forcing this burden on you,” she finished. 
“...Heh. Forcing?” Seiya scoffed. “If you were forcing me, I’d leave. Quit worrying so much.” He laughed it off, but Isuzu didn’t laugh at all. “A-Anyway!” Forcing a change in subject, Seiya clapped his hands together. “How are the numbers on the attractions themselves? I want to know how the renovations are paying off.” 
“I send those in every week,” she told him. 
“The latest ones.” 
“I don’t have the latest yet... I can give you rough estimates, though,” said Isuzu, as she fiddled with her tablet. She seemed willing to let Seiya’s change of subject slide for now. “The best attendance is here, in Moffle’s House of Sweets. It’s about 5000% increase since before the revamp.” 
“Hmm...” Five thousand percent was an incredible number, but things had been awful before the renovation, so it didn’t actually tell him much. Still, going from twenty or thirty visitors per day to over a thousand was quite good. 
“The next most popular is Macaron’s Music Theater; it’s up 3800%,” she continued. “Muse’s Aquario is next at 3200%. The great wheel is up 2300%. The merry-go-round, 1800%. The teacups, 900%, and the coaster, 600%.” 
“Hey, wait a minute,” said Seiya, interrupting Isuzu’s rattling off of the numbers. “I didn’t hear Tiramii’s Flower Adventure in there. Why not?” 
“Tiramii’s Flower Adventure?” said Isuzu, checking her list. “That’s, let me see... about 30%.” 
“What?” Seiya asked. 
“Thirty percent.” Seiya couldn’t believe his ears, but Isuzu just repeated herself. 
“Are you sure about that?” he clarified. “I thought it was doing pretty well after Golden Week.” It should be over 2,000, at least. Now it was suddenly 30? 
Isuzu’s expression was as blank as ever, but she seemed a bit troubled about something. “I found it strange, too. Recently, the foot traffic just plunged...” 
“I’d been worried about that, but I didn’t realize it was that bad...” Seiya said. “Let’s go see.” 
“Right now?” she asked. 
“Of course.”

They went to Tiramii’s Flower Adventure and found a terrible scene awaiting them. 
“Emergency! Emergency! Call the infirmary, mog!” came a cry. 
“Close the entrance! Calmly lead the guests currently present to the exit!” 
“There is no fire! I repeat, there is no fire!” 
Members of the cast, some from the mole-like Mogute Clan, were running this way and that. Seiya grabbed one of the panicking Mogutes and asked him: “Hey, what happened?” 
“Mr. Manager! Perfect timing, mog! A lighting fixture fell earlier... it hit Tiramii-san, mog!” 
“What?!” The word “again?” nearly came out of Seiya’s mouth. This was the third accident this month. He’d ordered them to be strict with their safety precautions and had performed a number of surprise inspections, but still, the accidents happened. An accident had just happened. Even though securing the light fixtures was the most basic of basics... 
What the hell are these idiots doing?! Seiya wanted to shout, but he just swallowed his rage and headed for the scene of the accident.

“Tiramii’s Flower Adventure” was an attraction in which guests rode in a gondola through a world of flowers. In the past, that meant following one set course, but the renovation had set up simple quiz panels here and there. The guests’ responses would change the course of the gondola, which gave them different shows from the flowers. 
As in the other attractions, Tiramii himself would be waiting in the final area, where he’d do various magic tricks and offer up different prizes based on their responses to the quizzes. It was in that final area where they found him now. 
“Urgh...” The diminutive canine mascot Tiramii lay there, covered in blood. “Mii... mii...” 
A bucket-sized light was lying on the ground next to him. He’d probably gotten a direct hit from it, in what would have been a serious injury for a human... Though, actually, it was a serious injury even for a mascot. 
“Tiramii-san! Please wake up, Tiramii-san!” His part-time assistant, the Bando Biino from before, was kneeling next to Tiramii, shaking him. 
Each time she moved him, Tiramii groaned in pain. “It hurts, mii... It hurts, mii... I’m gonna die, mii...” 
“Don’t say that! We have a stretcher on the way! Please, hang in there!” Biino’s voice was firm. She’d been injured just that morning herself, but she seemed to have completely forgotten about that by now. 
“Mii... the light... I can see the light, mii... Is that... my homeland, the Tiradaho region of Maple Land? Such beautiful flowers... and standing there... my dead grandmother, mii?” 
“Tiramii-san, stay with us!” she begged. 
“I’m done for, mii... But Biino-chan... if you wouldn’t mind... I’d like you to rub my belly before I die, mii...” 
“Y-Your belly? Okay!” Biino rubbed Tiramii’s belly. 
“...Okay, I feel... a little better now, mii... Thanks a lot, mii...” 
“R-Really?! Please, keep fighting!” she told him. “I’ll rub you as hard as I can!” 
“Oh, ohh... that feels good, mii. A little lower if you would, mii...” 
“Lower? R-Right here?” 
“A little lower, mii... Just keep rubbing. Ahh, that’s good, mii. Harder! And faster!” 
“Er, ah, um...” Biino sounded uncomfortable. 
“As thanks, I’ll rub your belly, too! Come closer, mii! Come on, closer!” 
“Um, um... No, I can’t, I can’t...” she objected. 
“You’re amazing, Biino-chan! More! More! Let’s rub together, mii! Let’s rub together, mii! ...Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Puff me! Puff me! Ah, yes, I’m... it’s... mii! Mii! ...Mmmmiiiiii!!” 
“Enough, you mongrel!” Tiramii was right on the verge of some sort of climax when Seiya stomped hard on his stomach. 
“Burph! Kanie-kun, what are you doing, mii?!” 
“Shut up!” Seiya snarled. “No one wants to hear a cutesy-pie voice do all that gross moaning!” 
“Mii, mii...” 
“Look! Sento’s so disgusted she even forgot to shoot you!” Seiya pointed at Isuzu, who had drawn back to the far wall. She was speechless and pale, covering her mouth with a hand. 
“Hmm... She sure does look disgusted, mii...” 
“Of course she does!” he fumed. “...And Bando!” 
“Y-Yes?!” Biino, flustered, came to attention as Seiya shot her a glare. 
“You know he’s a nexus of sexual harassment, so stop buying into whatever he tells you!” Seiya ordered. “When things like this happen, just push him away and glare at him!” 
“Hmm? Oh, that sounds nice too, mii...” 
“You! Shut! Up!” Seiya threw a fist on the mascot’s bloodstained head and ground it in. 
“Ohh! Spare me, spare me!” Tiramii begged. 

Biino spoke up to defend the flailing mascot. “S-Stop it, Kanie-san! Tiramii-san is injured, isn’t he? What if you kill him?!” 
“This won’t kill him!” Seiya scoffed. “He’s just fine.” 
“That’s not true, mii! Well, my naughty tail may be fine, but still!” Tiramii let out a sudden, self-effacing giggle, while covered in blood. It was utterly absurd. 
“You see?” Seiya pointed out. “Anyway, just don’t listen to anything this idiot says.” 
“But I felt a little obligated, since Tiramii-san got hurt protecting me...” Biino explained. 
Well, that part was a surprise. Seiya furrowed his brow. “Really?” 
“Really, mii. The light suddenly fell, and I pushed Biino-chan out of the way, mii. Then it hit me instead...” 
“It’s my fault. I... I always seem to be the cause of some trouble or other... and now Tiramii-san’s been hurt because of it...” For once, Biino seemed genuinely despondent about the bloodshed that always surrounded her. 
It made Seiya feel something... hard to describe. Rather than comment on it, though, he just cleared his throat and said: “...Well, no matter. Bando, go get changed or something. You’re covered in Tiramii’s blood.” 
“I-It’s okay!” she said. “I’m used to being covered in blood!” 
“Stop being used to it!” Seiya snapped. “Get going already!” 
“O-Okay!” At his urging, Biino dashed through the door to the backstage area. 
Once the metal door had closed, Tiramii staggered to his feet. “Boy oh boy... that was a real cockblock, mii. Kanie-kun, I’m holding this one against you.” 
“Oh, so you can stand. You big drama queen.” 
“Yeah, but I really am hurt, mii... I should have liver and chives tonight, to compensate for the loss of blood! Could I put it on the company account, mii?” 
“Request denied,” Seiya told him. 
“I knew you’d say that, mii...” Tiramii let out a sigh, then pulled a wet nap out of his pocket and mopped up the blood on his head. “...But I gotta say, there’ve been a lot of injuries around here lately, mii. Accidents and stuff. Last week some guests got into a fight and I got stabbed. Then the week before that, I was testing one of the gondolas and it jumped the track, mii.” 
“You’re surprisingly hardy for a weird chibi dog...” Seiya observed. 
“Heh! Maple Land men know how to take punishment, mii!” He sounded strangely proud of it, though Seiya hadn’t meant it as a compliment. 
“About those accidents and injuries...” Isuzu, who had just been watching the back-and-forth, finally spoke up. “The frequency of them is unusual. They’ve already been ordered to make safety a priority here, and in practice, they’re much more careful than at other attractions.” 
“Right...” Seiya trailed off. 
“That’s true, mii. You know the light that hit me just now? It’s one the Mogutes ran tests on yesterday. How is that possible? I don’t get it, mii.” 
“The accidents are likely what’s causing attendance at this attraction to plummet. They’re covering things up as best they can, but word of mouth is spreading. And, how to put it...” Isuzu faltered. 
“What is it?” Seiya asked. 
“I feel a certain ominous, forbidding aura around this attraction,” she admitted. “I think the guests pick up on it unconsciously and choose to stay away.” 
“Aura?” he wondered. “I don’t feel anything like that.” 
“I suppose you wouldn’t. You seem lacking in spiritual sensitivity, Kanie-kun.” 
“Hmm.” Seiya would certainly agree about that. He had no interest in ghost stories, and he could stride boldly into places that others found “creepy.” Back in middle school, a girl with a strong “spiritual sensitivity” in his class had told him that “spirits stay away from arrogant, bullheaded people like you.” That was similar to what Isuzu was saying now, and he had a vague sense that he was being called a boor. 
“But I don’t sense anything like that either, Isuzu-chan. I think it’s just your imagination, mii,” said Tiramii, in a carefree tone. He was definitely the biggest boor in all of AmaBri; feeling like he might have something in common with Tiramii plunged Seiya immediately into depression. 
“What’s wrong, mii? You suddenly look tired.” 
“Ah... it’s nothing,” Seiya told him. 
“Well, my own instincts aside...” Isuzu looked around. “There’s clearly something unusual happening here. If we wait for a major incident, it’ll be too late. I would recommend closing down the attraction temporarily.” 
“Hmm... I was just thinking that myself...” Seiya mused. 
Tiramii panicked. “No! I know things are bad, but I’m doing my best here, mii! Don’t close my attraction, mii!” 
“Well, that’s a surprise,” Seiya said. “I thought you’d be glad for an excuse to slack off.” 
“No way, mii! I’m trying to help the park too, mii! And... and...” Tiramii stammered. 
“And?” 
“N-Nothing, mii. Anyway, just don’t close it, mii!” Tiramii was strongly against closing the attraction down. Frankly, Seiya wasn’t fond of the idea either; he had put a lot of money into the renovation of Tiramii’s Flower Adventure, so he would prefer to avoid letting it stand idle. 
Even so, Isuzu was right: By the time a major accident happened, it would be too late to course-correct. 
“I suppose we should find the cause first.” Seiya said after some thought. “We’ll close Tiramii’s Flower Adventure for three days. We’ll use that time to go back over everything that’s happened here. The incidents might have something in common. We’re looking for anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem—” 
“Mii. Actually...” Tiramii said, cutting Seiya off. “I think I know what they might have in common... We don’t need to go back over everything, mii.” 
“What?” Seiya demanded. “Then why didn’t you report it earlier?!” 
“I didn’t want to say it, mii... Because I’m a good guy.” 
“I don’t care about your feelings,” Seiya declared. “Come out with it right now. What’s the point in common?” 
Still, Tiramii remained hesitant. He looked left, looked right, looked up at the ceiling, groaned a “mii,” sighed, then finally spoke softly. “...It’s Biino-chan, mii.” 
“Bando Biino? What about her?” 
“Biino-chan was present for all of the incidents. That’s what they have in common, mii.” 
“......” Ahh, just as he thought. The atmosphere didn’t become heavier, exactly, but both Seiya and Isuzu fell silent for a while. Tiramii had finally voiced the vague feeling they’d had since the day of her interview. Wherever Bando Biino went, bloodshed followed. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, but... “You’re saying she caused the accidents?” 
“I didn’t say that, mii. I was just saying ‘anything, no matter how insignificant’ like you asked, mii.” 
“Hmm...” Seiya mused. It seemed unlikely that Tiramii was just trying to deflect responsibility onto Biino. At the same time, it still seemed rather unbelievable... 
“I looked back over the reports for each incident...” Isuzu said, working with her tablet. “...And it’s true that she was present for each one that occurred at Tiramii’s Flower Adventure this fiscal year. At the same time, nothing runs afoul at all during times she’s not on duty. It does seem quite unnatural.” 
“Couldn’t it just be a coincidence?” Seiya wanted to know. 
“Of course, that is always a possibility,” Isuzu responded. 
“Mii. If this is a coincidence, then so is Oh Sadaharu’s home run record.” 
“That’s a pretty opaque example...” Still, Seiya understood what he was trying to say. “But are you sure it’s all Bando?” he pressed. “Maybe the incidents happen whenever Tiramii’s around.” 
“I would prefer that to be the case (?Rude), but I’m afraid that several accidents have happened even when Tiramii is off-duty. In all cases, the only point in common is Bando Biino’s presence.” 
“...Do we have her resume?” Seiya asked. “I want to know more about her job history.” 
Isuzu did some more searching. “I do have her resume... but of course, she’s a high school student working part time. It only contains her school record.” 
“Ah, well. We’ll just have to ask her directly.”

Seiya didn’t want the rest of the cast to learn about this, so they decided to go elsewhere. They moved to his office in the general affairs building, and called in Bando Biino. 
“My... job history?” She had just finished changing—apparently, she didn’t have a spare uniform, so now she was in her school gym clothes. 
“Yeah, mii.” 
“Tell us everything,” Seiya ordered her. “We want to hear it... for future reference.” 
Biino’s expression immediately clouded over, but there was no sign of surprise there. It was as if she was expecting this to come up eventually. “Are you... firing me?” 
“That’s not what we’re saying,” he explained. “Just... you know. So many accidents seem to happen while you’re on-duty. I was wondering if something might be causing it—” 
“I see. Please fire me, then.” 
“Hey, don’t get ahead of me,” Seiya objected. “I just want to know more about it.” 
“But once you know, you’ll fire me!” Biino was adamant. “I’ve had all kinds of part-time jobs! A paper route, a coffeehouse, a fast food place, a family restaurant, a convenience store, a bento shop, a cadaver-cleaner, a maid cafe... I’ve been fired from them all! At first, they all say ‘it must be a coincidence, let’s keep at it,’ but then the accidents keep happening... and in the end, I always get fired! There’s no other choice! Because... wherever I go, awful things start happening. Some places have ended up closing because of it!” Her voice was strained with tears. 
The “cadaver-cleaner” mention she’d slipped in there was certainly intriguing, but this didn’t really seem like the time to comment about it, so they all remained quiet (though Tiramii did seem to be itching with curiosity). 
“I knew it. I knew it would turn out this way again... And I love this park; I don’t want to cause it any more trouble. So please... fire me.” Biino cut off there, head bowed and sobbing. Seiya cast a glance at Isuzu, but she just furrowed her brow and shook her head as if to say, “Don’t ask me.” 
For Tiramii’s part, his eyes were shining and he seemed to be thinking, “Cadaver-cleaning! Tell me about the cadaver-cleaning, mii!” (Seiya could tell from his ‘doing laundry’-like gesture.) 
“Ahh, hmm...” It seems they’d been correct. He was still lacking a lot of specifics, but the rate of accidents and incidents was certainly higher when Biino was on-duty. Additionally, she was suggesting that this had had a major negative influence on her previous workplaces— something that could be seen in practice here, given the lagging attendance at Tiramii’s attraction. 
Her previous employers had likely had no choice but to let her go. After all, this went far beyond just “kind of creepy.” Even without knowing specifically what occult forces were at play, firing her seemed to be the obvious call. 
At the same time, as manager of a park as strange as this one, making the obvious call didn’t sit well with Seiya. His position aside, it didn’t sit well with his personality, either. After all, if he was just going to fire her, he should have never hired her! He’d seen her bleeding in that interview room, and he’d still taken her on. He’d gone out of his way! If he fired her now, it would be as if he’d lost somehow— and Kanie Seiya was a man who hated to lose. 
“I won’t fire you,” Seiya declared. Both Biino and Isuzu looked shocked. “We’ll go with my first idea, a three-day break, and use that time to search for the cause. We’ll bring in a spiritualist or a medium or something, try a variety of things and see if we can find somewhere to start.” 
Tiramii cocked his head at him. “A spiritualist? Kanie-kun... this is the 21st century, the age of iPS cells and big data. What age are you living in, mii?” 
“You shut up! You of all people...!” Seiya began stretching out the cheeks of the annoying dog mascot from the weird magical land. 
“Okay, fair enough, mii. Also, that hurts, mii. This sort of tugging’s not any fun when it’s a man doing it, mii...” 
“Oh, forget it!” Seiya grumbled. 
“Kanie-kun, you seem to be getting better at wrangling Tiramii,” Isuzu commented. 
“You stay out of this!” he ordered. Tiramii is annoying in a different way than Moffle is, Seiya thought. But recently, like the rest of the cast, he had grown merciless when dealing with him. Since Tiramii himself didn’t seem to mind much, he’d accepted that it was all right to just treat him that way. 
Meanwhile, Biino gazed at Seiya, eyes dewy with emotion. “Kanie-san... th-thank you... I... I...” 
“Ah, I don’t need your gratitude; I just can’t afford to lose any valuable employees,” Seiya explained. “Anyway, stay on backstage cleanup for today. If I have any updates, I’ll call you back.” 
“O-Okay!” 
“No going up around the guests, okay?” 
“Right! Well, goodbye!” She bowed down low, then left the office. 
“She’s got a great attitude, at least...” Seiya observed. 
A little while after the door closed, Isuzu spoke up. “...AmaBri’s still just an amusement park, you know. We don’t have any spiritualists here.” 
“Hmm, I guess you wouldn’t...” He’d had a feeling that might be the case. Despite being from a so-called magical realm, a surprising number of the park’s cast weren’t any different from your typical, ordinary, layabout mortals. The only difference Seiya had noticed, really, was in the annoying prevalence of strong fighters among them. Sadly, since the park’s goal was bringing in customers rather than defeating a demon lord or something, that was all rather useless. 
“There must be something we can do,” he finally said. “You people come from a magical realm, don’t you? You must have some kind of counselors or consultants for people in Bando Biino’s situation.” 
“Hmm... I’ll look into it.” Isuzu manipulated her tablet. He waited a while, but at length, she let out a sigh. “There’s no specific central body. The only hits I get are for suspicious-sounding salons and spiritualist quacks.” 
Spiritualist quacks in a magical realm? Seiya wondered. 
“...Anyway, none of it looks particularly reliable,” she finished. “The Maple Land Ministry of Health site has a warning to look out for frauds, but that’s it.” 
“I have to say,” Seiya observed acerbically, “you people are sounding less and less like a magical realm, and more like a South American or Southeast Asian-style developing nation.” 
“...That’s hitting below the belt,” Isuzu replied. 
“Come on, at least argue the point!” he fumed. 
“Now, now. I don’t think we have to go back to the homeland to get our foot in the door, mii,” Tiramii, who had been playing around on his smartphone, said leisurely. 
“Oh?” Seiya perked up. “You have an idea?” 
“I called up Rubu-yan, mii. I know what you’re thinking, but dragons are known for their knowledge, so he might know something useful. And he happens to be free right now, so he said he’d stop by.” Tiramii was referring to the red dragon, Rubrum. Recently, the cast had started calling him ‘Rubu-yan’ as a sign of affection. 
“You called him here?” asked Seiya, sounding alarmed. “At his size, I’d prefer to avoid having him wandering around the park...” 
You called?? 
“Wah!” There was a sudden, booming voice just outside. 
Seiya looked and saw a windowful of a scaly dragon face. Rubrum was peeking into the office. “D-Don’t scare me like that!” 
What am I supposed to do? This is just what I look like.? 

“Rubu-yan, that was fast, mii. Did you fly here again?” 
Yes. The weather was so nice today, I’d decided to have a picnic lunch in the second park. It’s been a long time, you know? It’s so nice to enjoy a meal while gazing up at the blue sky.? 
Rubrum was enormous, which meant it took a lot to feed him. He went through fifty kilos of white rice per day (they didn’t have enough meat and vegetables), yet according to him, this was a relatively light diet for a dragon. For today, he’d probably gotten some white rice cooked up in the employee cafeteria fashioned into giant rice balls and was treating himself to a little picnic. 
“It is, but we sold the second park, you know? You can’t just be going in there,” Seiya told him. 
It’s all right, Kanie-san. They’ve barely touched it so far. They’ve only started geological surveys on the area’s east side. I must say, it’s really quite slow... It takes them a whole day just to survey 100 square meters. The Mogutes would have put in a few steel pipes, banged a few hammers and been done with it.? 
“Don’t use them as a basis for comparison,” said Seiya. “Those guys could build a space elevator in six months if they had the materials and the money.” The Mogutes’ carpentry prowess was completely broken; it hardly seemed fair to compare human workers to them. 
Well, true enough. ...Oh, excuse me, dear. Are you all right?? Rubrum craned his long neck to speak to something at his feet. 
“...?” Seiya leaned out the window in time to see Bando Biino stand up and bow to Rubrum repeatedly. She must have been on her way out of the general affairs building and ended up tripping over his tail or his foot. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she apologized. 
Ah, it’s no problem at all. Just try to be more careful. My scales are quite hard and sharp, you know? I could hardly forgive myself if I damaged the supple skin of a ‘JK.’ Ahaha.? 
“Don’t say ‘JK.’ Aren’t you a dragon?” He also seems kind of like an old man, Seiya thought. 
Dragons can say ‘JK!’ I don’t want to be one of those dragons who’s completely out of touch with youth culture. Once I get some free time, I’d like to go to an idol voice actress concert and do some otagei... Well, if not for the part where it would kill the people around me...? 
Trampled, crushed under rubble, bleeding to death— A chill ran up Seiya’s spine as he imagined the tragic scene that might transpire. “Don’t,” he said hastily. “Don’t go, don’t dance, don’t kill people.” 
Yes, I told you, I’m not actually going to do it.? 
While they were talking, Biino was fleeing the scene in a panic. The entrance to the underground passage leading to Sorcerer’s Hill was close to the office building, so she was probably going there. 
Hmm...? Rubrum hummed softly as he watched Biino’s departure. 
“Rubu-yan, what is it? You like Biino-chan, huh? But too bad, mii! She’s mine!” 
Oh, is that so?? 
“That’s so, mii. She gave my belly a good rubbing earlier, mii. Rubble, rubbie, rubber duckie! Now we’re rub buddies; rubuddies for short, mii!” 
“Stop babbling,” Seiya muttered. Tiramii really was a creep. 
Well, that’s a shocking revelation. But are you sure that’s what you want? That girl—er, Biino-chan, did you say?—she’s got quite a curse on her.? 
“A curse?” Seiya questioned. 
Yes, a curse. The magical kind.? Rubrum said flippantly. He had made it sound so unremarkable, it took them a minute to parse exactly what he was saying. 
“That’s our Rubu-yan, mii. I’m so glad I called you to check, mii!” 
Oh, really? Why, I’m honored! Ha ha ha...? 
“Wait a minute,” Seiya said. “You can tell that... that Bando Biino is cursed?” 
Yes. I am a dragon, after all. Dragon eyes can see curses and blessings. To use an example that a mortal like you might understand... hmm, you know how birds can see ultraviolet light? It’s a bit like that,? he clarified, unprompted. 
Seiya looked at Isuzu. She shook her head uncertainly. “I’ve heard legends about things like that, but nobody knows if they’re true or not...” 
It’s no legend. It’s all quite normal,? Rubrum said knowledgeably. ?All living beings have curses and blessings, large and small. Usually they’re so minor that they hardly make a difference, but she’s a severe case. That’s one powerful curse; even I’m shocked by it.? 
“Really? Is her curse that bad?” Seiya wanted to know. 
Yes. Latifah-sama is perhaps the only worse case I’ve seen.? 
Seiya was taken aback. Rubrum knew about Latifah’s curse? 
He may have noticed his surprise, because the red dragon twitched his scales uncomfortably and released a sigh with a small puff of flame. ?Er, I’m sorry. We sort of write it off as each individual’s destiny... it’s considered rude to point it out. In human terms, it’s... well, you know how your species has men with very little hair on their heads? It would be like turning to someone like that and saying ‘oh, you’re bald.’? 
“Hmm...” It was a questionable example, and Seiya wasn’t sure if it clarified things or not. But at the end of the day, Rubrum was a dragon, not a human; there was a limit to how much mutual understanding they’d be able to have. Deciding to ask him more about Latifah’s problem some day, for now Seiya cleared his throat and said: “Ahem. All right, let’s say Bando Biino is cursed. What can we do about it?” 
Do about it, eh? ...I’m afraid that’s a bit out of my field. I majored in economics in college, so... Hmm...? Rubrum thought for a minute, then continued, lightly enough. ?I know a doctor who specializes in these things. Would you like me to introduce you??

The next day, a doctor from a magical realm came to see them. Specifically, he came to Shinjuku on the JR Saikyo line, then transferred to the Tohto Line to Amagi Station. 
“Not that it matters, but why the Saikyo Line?” Seiya whispered to Isuzu as they waited for their guest at the ticket gate. 
“The Schubert Empire, where he lives, has a direct service to Omiya Station. The E5 shinkansen ‘Super Goblin’ on the 23rd and 24th platforms is very popular with Maple Land children, too.” 
“Ah-hah.” 
“They sell lunches in boxes that look like train cars, and they released a toy of it that turns into a robot... but apparently, that didn’t sell very well.” While Isuzu was explaining things he hadn’t actually asked about, arriving passengers began passing through the ticket gate in droves. Mixed in with the ordinary mortals was a massive man in a white coat. 
No, he wasn’t a massive man— he wasn’t human at all. He looked like an oni, with dark brown skin and a pig’s snout. Seiya’s knowledge of RPGs suggested that the man was an orc, or an ogre, or something like it, but the mortals around him didn’t seem to notice anything amiss—perhaps thanks to the Lalapatch Charm dangling from his neck. 
“He’s an ogre, I see,” Isuzu observed. “That translates to ‘man-eating-oni’ in Japanese, but don’t worry. His type mainly eat sansai soba.” 
“...... I suppose that’s reassuring, but at the same time, I feel strangely disappointed,” Seiya replied. There would be nothing fun about meeting an opponent like that in an RPG. 
“Anyway, try to ask him for help without offending him,” Isuzu advised. “He’s our only option at the moment.” 
“I know,” he told her. 
Isuzu held up a card so that their visitor would notice them. It was a hand-written note reading, “Welcome: Obiza-sama from Schubert” with “Amagi Brilliant Park” written beneath it. (“Obiza” was the name of the doctor in question.) 
The ogre who came through the ticket gate looked at them with a start. Seiya had had an inkling, but there was now no question that this was the doctor Rubrum wanted to introduce them to. 
“Setsuko-san...” the ogre said, pointing with a trembling finger. “Setsuko-san! Oh, it is you, Setsuko-san! I’ve been longing to meet you! Ahh, Setsuko-san! Setsuko-saaan!” There was a charge, followed by contact. He had shoved Seiya aside to grab hold of Isuzu’s chest. “Ahh, I knew it was you, Setsuko-san! This springiness! The sensation! Setsuko-san! I... I can’t take it! Let’s run away together! Please! Throw away everything and come away with—blugh!” A point-blank shot from Isuzu’s musket sent the ogre Obiza flying back. 
“Why... why must everyone I meet be this way?” Isuzu trembled, while Obiza lay on the ground, twitching. 

“Are you under some kind of curse that inflames the sexual harassment instincts of old men?” Seiya questioned. “But... you know, you’re the one who said not to offend him. What now?” 
“Setsuko-san...” Obiza groaned. “You’re so cruel, Setsuko-san...” 
“Who on earth is Setsuko-san?” Seiya wanted to know.

As she had been ordered to stay backstage, Biino had spent the last few days doing nothing but cleaning and arranging equipment. 
Thanks to that, when accidents did happen, at least they never affected the guests. There was one time, though, when she tipped over a can of wax, and Wanipii slipped on it while he was passing... He’d crashed into a pile of cleaning tools at the end of the corridor, and ended up with a mop handle sticking out of his bum. He was now in Amagi Hospital, though he was scheduled to be released tomorrow due to insufficient beds. 
She could still hear his distressed “pii, pii, piiiiii!” ringing in her ears. (It was followed by “I’ve never experienced ecstasy like this before in my life, pii!”... but best to forget that part.) 
Is this also my fault? Biino wondered. That giant dragon person—Rubrum, his name was—had said that she was cursed. That meant that what she had felt for so long—that she was the cause of the misfortune around her—was actually true. 
“Ahh...” She found a sigh escaping her lips. Biino looked all around, and was relieved to see no one had been watching. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Always bright and cheerful! That was her motto in life. Never look sad. Gloom just invites more gloom. That was the philosophy she’d always followed. 
That’s right! Don’t give up, Bando Biino! she thought. She slapped her cheeks hard with both hands, letting out a whap! that echoed through the hall. Seconds later, drops of blood spattered on her beautifully polished floor. 
“Ah...” She’d apparently slapped herself so hard that she’d given herself a nosebleed. Biino quickly clamped a tissue to her nose, and was just starting to wipe up the blood stain when she heard a voice behind her. 
“B-Biino-san? Are you okay?” She looked and saw Chujo Shiina and Adachi Eiko standing there, looking worried. The two of them had started at the park at the same time she had. 
Shiina was a year younger than her, and also in high school, but she was so petite that she looked like a little kid. She spent most of her time looking flustered, but she was an amazing person with a prodigious singing voice who had saved the live show from disaster during golden week. When they’d met the first time, she’d been struck dumb by Biino’s odd behavior, but lately they’d been able to interact like normal people, more or less. 
The other, Adachi Eiko, was in college. She had starred in AVs before. AVs! Biino assumed that was an abbreviation for “Authorized Versions” (i.e., of the Bible). The Bible published by King James of England in the 17th century was considered to be “authorized,” so Biino figured she’d starred in video versions of Bible stories. Biino had always found religious people unapproachable, but Adachi Eiko seemed very open and friendly. 
They worked in different departments, but as fellow newcomers to this odd park, they had inevitably grown closer over the weeks. This was about the time in her last few jobs when people would start avoiding her because of the trouble she caused... but for now, these two were still nice to her. 
“E-Eiko-san, Shiina-chan,” she greeted them. “What is it?” 
“W-Well... You were muttering and bleeding from your nose... so re rere wowwied... Um, sorry! We were worried, I mean!” Shiina said, trying not to fumble her words. 
Even when she’s just talking to me, she gets so nervous she can’t speak right... Even though she doesn’t have to go to the trouble... Biino thought. Determined not to worry them, she forced a big smile onto her face. “Oh, I’m fine! Happens to me all the time. I’m fine, I’m fine... I’m really fine!” 
But Shiina and Eiko didn’t look reassured. 
“Well, if you insist... But we heard from Moffle-san and Macaron-san that there’s a sort of curse on you...” Eiko said. 
“It’s a little hard to open up to you because of how you’re always getting hurt... but this explains a lot. Also, we thought you might be feeling sad...” Shiina said. 
“Eiko-san. Shiina-chan...” That alone was enough to make Biino want to start crying. She couldn’t believe they were that worried about her. In her old jobs, people just looked at her like she was creepy, and made all kinds of excuses to stay away from her. What nice people they were! I don’t want to quit working here. But maybe they’d be better off without me... she thought. 
“I... I appreciate it. But it’s probably best if you stay away from me,” Biino told them sadly. “I’m dangerous, like Rubu-yan-san said. I got Wanipii-san hurt just the other day.” 
“Yes, we heard about that...” 
“But, well, it’s only Wanipii-san...” 
“D-Don’t talk like that! I mean, I know he wasn’t going to die or anything, but the fact is, I’m the one who caused it, you know?” Biino was trying to sound as casual as she could, but Eiko and Shiina were still frowning. 
“Biino-san... You really mustn’t be so hard on yourself,” Eiko told her. 
“Sh-Sherright! She’s right...” Shiina agreed. “You can’t let that curse thing bother you! I know you’re going to get better!” 
“You guys...” The tears Biino had been holding back were threatening to breach their dam. Ahh, not good. Now’s not the time for that, Biino thought. I can’t look sad. I have to grin and bear it. I have to always look cheerful, even in front of the people I care about most! 
“Ahahaha! Oh, really... You’re both so silly!” Biino shouted in as neutral a voice as she could manage. “I’m fine, really! Totally fine! Absolutely fine! Don’t look so serious, okay?” 
“Biino-san...” they said. 
“Anyway, you’ve probably got lots of work to do, right?! Stop worrying about my silly drama and get back to your posts already! Go on! Get going, you guys!” Biino grabbed her mop and swung it back and forth as if to shoo them off. Eiko and Shiina backed away, looking troubled, but still concerned. “Come on, cheer up!” she told them. “Turn those frowns upside down, okay?” 
“...But Biino-san. You’re clearly forcing it...” Eiko said, but Biino kept up her shrill laughter. 
“I’m telling you, I’m fine! This curse is no big deal! It’s kind of ‘bring it on,’ right? ...A-Anyway, I’d better go! I’ve got cleaning to do!” And with that one-sided insistence, Biino ran off alone. 
Biino had been worried that they might follow her, but of course, they weren’t going to go that far. She turned the corner and ran down the stairs, and once she reached a place where no one was around, she wiped her tears with her sleeves. 
Gotta smile. Gotta smile. Fortune comes to those who smile, she recited to herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. How long do I have to keep doing this? she wondered. 
“Mii...” 
Biino started at the sound of the voice. She looked and saw Tiramii standing beside her. “T-Tiramii-san? How long have you been there?” 
“I was on break, and I just saw you show up... Sorry, did you not want anyone to see you like this, mii?” 
“Ah, no... ahaha! I’m fine, I’m fine! No problems at all!” She slapped a smile onto her face, but Tiramii didn’t return it. 
“Biino-chan,” he said, “don’t force yourself like this.” 
Squeeze. Tiramii hugged her, and it had none of his usual lewdness. It was a completely natural, kind gesture, and it didn’t even occur to Biino that she might want to run away. Her body sunk into his soft, plush fur. It was a warm and comforting embrace, accompanied by a very nice fragrance. 
“Tiramii-san?” she said. 
“If you’re not feeling good, you should say so, mii. Stifling yourself like this will drive you crazy eventually.” 
“Um... S-Sorry,” she stumbled on. “But I’m not sure this is appropriate...” 
“If you want me to stop, I will,” he replied. 
“Huh?” 
“I just wanted to help settle you down,” Tiramii explained. “I know I act the way I do, but I still make my living comforting people, mii.” 
“But it feels so...” Unfair, she finished internally. She debated with herself over whether or not to say it aloud, but in the end, she chose not to. If he had been a normal man, she would have shouted ‘stop!’ and pushed him away. But in practice, the person with his arms around her was a cute, plush fairy. It was like hugging a pillow; it didn’t trigger any feelings of inappropriateness. Besides, he wasn’t being his usual jerk pervert self—he was just trying to shoulder some of her awful burden, that much was clear. “...But why?” 
“No real reason. I just got kind of worried, mii. If you really don’t like it, though, I’ll stop.” 
“Ohh... I don’t even know what to say to that...” Even so, Biino couldn’t keep a crack from entering her voice. “Sorry. You can stay but just... d-don’t tell anyone...” 
“Okay,” he said simply. 
“And only... only this one time,” she specified. 
“Sure. That’s okay, mii.” 
“I’m sorry. I really am,” Biino apologized. “It’s just for a little while. So...” 
“I’ll hug you tight, mii. Really tight.” 
“Ahh... ahh... Ahhhhhh...” She couldn’t hold back any longer. A wail burst out from her throat. Tears flowed from her eyes. She buried her face in his pink fur and sobbed and sobbed. 
“I’m tired. I’m so tired,” she confessed. “It’s like the whole world is against me and I don’t know why. It’s not fair. It’s one awful thing after another, and I always laugh it off, but... but they should know I’m not fine! Help me! Someone just help me!” 
“Right,” said Tiramii. 
“Everyone... Everyone was so happy! My dad, my mom... my big brother! But now everyone’s... everyone’s so crazy! Even my landlady now... I can’t take it anymore! Help me! Why am I cursed?” Biino wailed. “What did I do wrong? It’s not fair! I can’t take anymore!” 
“Mii...” 
Biino kept crying. Even after the tears stopped, she remained where was, still trembling. She stayed that way for about ten minutes before at last, feeling exhausted, she pulled away from Tiramii. “I’m sorry...” 
“Feel better, mii?” 
“...Yes. Thank you.” 
“Glad to hear it, mii. I won’t be telling anyone; don’t worry. This kind of thing’s pretty out-of-character for mii, so I wouldn’t want it getting out there, either.” Tiramii patted her on the shoulders. 
“A-Ahaha...” Biino laughed, wiping her red, swollen eyes. This time, her smile wasn’t forced. “Thank you... really, Tiramii-san. I feel so much better. I don’t know how to thank you enough...” 
“Hey, i-it’s nothing, mii. Don’t make such a big deal out of it, mii.” 
“D-Don’t say that! I really need to thank you somehow...” Biino’s peered into Tiramii’s eyes with her troubled, upturned gaze. 
Tiramii seemed to tense up a little bit and cleared his throat. “Thank me?” 
“Y-Yes...” 
“Then... then... let’s pick up where we left off before!” he told her. “Rub my belly really hard, mii!” 
“Ah, sorry. I won’t do that,” Biino clarified. 
“Mii! Thought not!”

Seiya didn’t know how long ogres lived, but it seemed to him that Obiza was quite long in the tooth. He appeared perfectly aware of why he had come here, but when it came to pretty much anything else he was extremely absent-minded, seeming to forget new information ten minutes after he heard it. 
Incidentally, it seemed “Setsuko-san” was an assistant who had worked in Obiza’s household. Seiya didn’t know what had gone on between the two of them, but it was probably nothing he wanted to hear. 
“Now, Setsuko-san,” Obiza said. “Is dinner ready yet?” 
“We fed you earlier, and this is the third time you’ve asked,” Isuzu said, annoyed. 
It had happened right after she’d led him to the newly renovated meeting room in the park’s general affairs building. He’d said he was hungry, so they’d brought him katsudon from the staff cafeteria; in a truly outrageous gesture, he had eaten only the breading and left the pork behind. On top of that, he called Isuzu “Setsuko-san” at every opportunity. At first, Isuzu just patiently corrected him, but she had eventually gotten tired of it and grown more blunt in her responses. 
“I got to say, this is one dull place you’ve got here,” Obiza remarked. “Rubrum made it sound like a paradise, all full of hopes and dreams.” 
“I’m sure that he was referring to our onstage area. Backstage, it’s mostly ordinary office buildings, of course,” Seiya explained patiently. 
“That ain’t what I’m talking about, boyo,” Obiza told him. “I’m talking about something much more important. By dreams I mean... well, ah... you know.” 
“I do?” 
“Tiddies.” 
“Ah, I see. Do you think we might talk about work now?” Seiya responded, mustering all of his willpower to bear the comment, ignore it, and move on. “I’m sure you’re aware of the reason we called you here. It’s come to our attention that a magical illness has befallen one of our park’s workers, and we were informed that you might know a way of treating it. In other words, she’s... cursed? And we were hoping you might be willing to examine her.” While Seiya spoke in as formal a manner as he could, Obiza sipped some roasted green tea and swished it around in his mouth. Seiya was worried he was going to spit it back out, but the ogre swallowed it down in the end. “Er, are you listening to me?” 
“’Course I am,” said Obiza. “You like tits, don’cha? You’re a good boy.” 
“...... So, anyway, about this curse...” Once again pulling on all his restraint, Seiya explained the relevant points. 
After a discussion with Isuzu earlier, he’d decided not to mention Latifah’s curse; Maple Land had apparently dedicated all available resources to lifting it, and all the methods they had tried had failed. Bringing in some shady doctor from another country probably wouldn’t contribute anything new, and on top of that, they had no guarantee that Obiza wasn’t a spy (even if it did seem vanishingly unlikely). Isuzu believed it was out of the question to let some unknown stranger have his way with Latifah, even temporarily. 
In response, Seiya had pointed out: Instead of calling for some half-senile old ogre, shouldn’t they send Bando Biino to Maple Land and have the trustworthy doctors who saw to Latifah inspect her? But apparently, that presented its own difficulties. 
“After all, Bando Biino is a mortal, and so her curse is a different variety than ours, it seems.” Isuzu had explained. “There’s a great deal we don’t understand about mortal curses. The differences can be so great that the staff who tried to dispel the princess’s likely wouldn’t be able to help.” She made it sound a bit like having a physician performing veterinary medicine. 
Though while he could see it for the mascot fairies like Moffle and Tiramii, Seiya still had no idea what the difference was between the otherwise human-looking Isuzu and Latifah and “mortals.” But Isuzu insisted it existed, so it probably did; it wasn’t as if she had any reason to lie about this. 
“...Now, er, we lack the relevant health insurance coverage, we should probably discuss compensation in advance. If you could perhaps provide a quote, for reference, regarding your standard fee...” Seiya tried again. 
“Ah, cut the crap already.” Obiza folded his arms and groaned. “You got a patient or don’cha? Bring her in already.” 
“Er, you’re willing to examine her, then?” Seiya asked. 
“’Course I am! I might not look it, but I’ve been a doctor for over 100 years. I’m the one who taught Jung how to use penicillin. And lately I’ve been trading tiddie-touches for the use of *TAP cells for—” 
“Ah, yes, yes, of course! Please wait a minute and I’ll call her in!” Seiya shouted, trying to prevent the man’s annoying, error-ridden rant from continuing. He tried to signal to Isuzu with his eyes, but she had already used her smartphone to tell Tiramii to bring her in. 
“Now what kind of way is that to act?” Obiza demanded. “You don’t take me seriously, is that it?!” 
“Perish the thought, sir,” Seiya replied. 
“And Setsuko-san, where’s my dinner?!” 
“You just had katsudon,” Isuzu answered coldly. 
“Hmm, did I? Then where’s my after-dinner tiddies?” 
“...Kanie-kun, may I shoot him?” she asked. 
“Yes. No! Hold on,” Seiya amended. “Wait until business is finished, first.” 
“A pity,” she mumbled. 
“Come on, time’s a-wasting! Bring on the tiddies!” Obiza said. 
“Would you please shut up for a minute!” Seiya barked. 
“Setsuko-san, Setsuko-san! That young feller’s being mean to me! Did you hear that?” 
“That’s enough! Why does it have to be like this?!” Seiya shouted, losing his temper at last. Just then, there was a knock on the door. 
“Heya. I brought the patient, mii.” 
“Um, ah, excuse me!” 
Tiramii entered the meeting room, leading a nervous-looking Biino. 
“Hmm? That girl...” Obiza looked at Biino, brow suddenly wrinkling, expression suddenly severe. His eyes in that moment were not the eyes of some sex-starved old man, but of a superior doctor with many decades of experience. “Oh...?” 
“This is promising.” Seiya and Isuzu whispered to each other. They watched as Obiza slowly stood up and walked up to Biino. 
“Well, well...” said the doctor. “This girl is...” 
“Y-Yes?!” 
“This girl is... hmm. This girl is...” Suddenly, his voice lost all of its gravitas, and he plunged his head against Biino’s chest. “I’m sorry. You were Setsuko-san! I’ve missed you so, Setsuko-san!” 
“Um, um...?!” Biino didn’t know what to say. 
“Ohhhh, oh, oh! Run away with me, Setsuko-san! I’ll treat you good! I’ll buy you nice things! Stay with me, won’t you? Won’t you? Run away with bleeeeauuuugh!” Biino thrust him away, then Isuzu shot him, then Seiya kicked him. In summary: he went flying. “Gwah...” 
“Wh-What just happened, mii?! Mii!” It had all happened so suddenly that it put Tiramii in a panic. After hemming and hawing for a bit, he mimicked Obiza’s gesture and grabbed Biino’s chest. Following a moment’s elation over that blissful sensation, he was slapped and shot and kicked and went flying in the same way. “Gahh... I don’t understand, mii. I’m the victim, mii.” 
“Shut up! Can’t we ever have a conversation like normal people?!” Seiya shouted, but Tiramii’s gaze was a million miles away. 
“Hmm... Who is Setsuko-san, anymii? I bet she’s a sexy, sexy MILF, mii... I hope you’ll introduce us some day, mii.” 
“...That’s right, boyo!” Obiza boasted. “Setsuko-san’s a MILF!” 
“Really, mii? I bet she’s an F-cup or bigger, mii! She must really be something!” 
“Ohh, Setsuko-san! Setsuko-san!” 
“I’m building an image of Setsuko-san in my mind, mii. She puffs you six ways from Sunday without breaking a sweat. Oh, you’re a naughty phore, Setsuko-san. The ultimate MILF, mii!” 
“Both of you, shut up!” Seiya demanded. “Well, I can’t ask the old man to shut up, but I do want to have a proper conversation!” 
“Mii. I guess it was too stimulating of a greeting for poor Biino-chan, mii.” 
“U-Um! I was a little startled, but... I’m fine! Yeah, I’m fine. I... I’m fine,” Biino said, but she still seemed shocked by the abruptness of the sexual harassment, and Isuzu seemed to be comforting her. 
“It’s all right, Bando-san. I’ll look out for you.” 
“Y-Yes, thank you...” 
“If that old man attempts to use his check-up as a pretext for harassment,” Isuzu announced, “I’ll shoot him dead right on the spot.” 
“Shoot me?” Obiza asked. “You’ll shoot me dead?!” 
“Yes, I’ll shoot you dead.” 
“My, my. Having a young missie like you do something like that to me... I don’t think karma’d forgive me.” The old man grinned, his cheeks crimson. 
“...... Do you know what ‘shoot to death’ means?” Seiya wanted to know. “...Ah, never mind. If you can examine her, please proceed. If you can’t, please leave at once.” 
“Ah. Ah... that’s right. Come over here, missie.” Apparently ready to actually do his job at last, Obiza took a stethoscope out of his bag. His expression radiated gravitas. 
Biino pulled herself together and stepped forward timidly. “Um... Please proceed!” 
“All right. First, take off those panties!” 
Isuzu fired. Obiza went flying several meters. 
“Gwah!” 
“That is what ‘shoot to death’ means,” she told him. “I shot you halfway to death. The next time you try something like that, I’ll shoot you halfway again. That will bring your life down to one quarter. Then I’ll keep on half killing you until you’re down to one life point.” 
“Hmm, that’s awfully extreme...” Obiza sulked. 
“Kanie-kun, Tiramii, please wait outside.”

At Isuzu’s prompting, Seiya and Tiramii left the meeting room and went to the break room one floor down to wait. 
“I feel so tired...” Seiya sighed. “Maybe things would have gone faster if Sento hadn’t been there.” 
“Right? He’s a troublesome old-timer, mii...” 
“You were doing the same things! I’ve never liked that kind of garbage behavior to start with!” 
“Hmm, I guess it would be upsetting to a high schooler like you, mii. Sorry, mii.” 
“It would upset me even if I wasn’t a high schooler,” Seiya told him sourly. 
“Well, what’s done is done, mii,” Tiramii said leisurely, then bought some strawberry milk from the break room vending machine. He guzzled it down and let out a long sigh. “Mm, delicious, mii!” 
“You seem awfully calm about this... I’m so worried about that old man that I can barely sit still,” Seiya admitted. 
“Don’t worry, mii. Rubu-yan says he has a good track record with this stuff, you know? Like, he’s undone a lot of high-profile curses.” 
“Oh? I wonder about that...” Seiya was having enough trouble with this talk of curses to begin with. Of course, he had a magical power of his own, so he couldn’t dismiss the premise outright... 
“But I hope Biino-chan will feel better, mii. She’s been really down these past few days.” 
“Has she?” 
“She has, mii. Biino-chan loves this park, mii. She’s pouring her soul into keeping it going, but the curse just won’t let up. She’s even started asking herself if she should just quit for the good of the park, mii. It’s a sad story, mii. I wanna help her, mii.” 
“There’s a surprise,” Seiya remarked. “I never knew you could be so considerate.” 
Tiramii seemed like the sort of man who cared about what was in a woman’s pants, not her heart. Guys like Tiramii—the kind who were constantly flirting with women—tended to take an almost clinical approach towards them. Getting too emotionally involved made breaking up with women harder, and cheating nearly impossible. Sincerity was an enemy to be shot down. 
People with copious “relationship experience” tended to be viewed as having some deep philosophical understanding of the world, but Seiya personally thought that was a load of bunk. If you were just genuine and sincere, you didn’t need to keep swapping partners in and out. 
“Considerate, huh? Maybe that’s my problem, mii.” Rather than getting angry about Seiya’s words, Tiramii just sighed. “My problem is that I get too attached to people, mii. It ends up getting me hurt.” 
“You?” Seiya retorted acidly. “Don’t make me laugh.” 
“It’s true, mii. When I get serious about a girl, I get really annoying, mii. That’s why I guard my heart by making passes at everyone, mii.” 
Seiya listened, but found it all extremely hard to believe. 
Tiramii snorted with dissatisfaction as he noted Seiya’s dubious expression. “I’m not so different from you, Kanie-kun. I play the flirt; you play the high-and-mighty type. We both do it to keep people at arm’s length, mii.” 
“Guh...” 
“Thought so, mii. Bossing Isuzu-chan around, looking down on everyone... you just do it to make life easier, right? I’m the same way, mii.” 
“Hmm... there might be some wisdom in those words...” Seiya folded his arms and thought. “Yet when you’re the one saying them, it can’t help but feel like I’m being scammed somehow.” 
“That’s cruel, mii! I was trying to be serious for once!” Tiramii raged, but Seiya waved a hand dismissively. 
“Oh, shut up. I never asked you to be serious,” he told the mascot. “...Anyway, does this mean you’ve formed some attachment to Bando Biino?” 
Tiramii’s cheeks turned red and he gazed into the distance. “Hmm, well... A little. I think I’ve fallen in love with her, mii.” 
“For real?” Seiya asked. 
“Yeah.” 
“Did something happen between you two?” 
“I can’t say, mii. But I’ve definitely fallen in love with her!” 
Internally, Seiya made a distressed noise, which he just barely managed to keep himself from voicing. 
“Biino-chan’s smile is just so invigorating,” Tiramii gushed. “All this awful stuff keeps happening to her, but she stays cheerful and optimistic. Ah, but that doesn’t mean I want to have my way with her, mii! I just... I just want to be close to her as much as I can.” 
“You should probably stop sexually harassing her, then,” Seiya observed. 
“Mii. I know that. I just do it instinctively whenever I get the chance... You know how it is. Like how old soldiers throw themselves to the ground any time they hear a gunshot, mii.” 
“I’m not sure that’s a great example.” Seiya hadn’t forbidden workplace romance at the park; as far as he was concerned, as long as it didn’t get in the way of their work, anyone could feel any way they wanted to about anyone. But Tiramii was one of their headliner mascots, and if there was one thing they couldn’t afford, it was a scandal. 
“Well,” he decided, “you know she’s underage, so she’s off limits. If you can keep it platonic, I don’t care what you do. As long as you don’t make any trouble for her, anyway.” 
“I won’t, mii! Also... please keep this a secret from Moffle and the others, mii. They’d laugh at me if they heard, mii... I just can’t keep it to myself anymore, so this is like me whispering in the ear of a tanuki statue.” 
“I’m not going to tell anyone... And you think of me as a tanuki statue?” Seiya asked incredulously. 
“You’re a lot like one, mii.” 
“I am not! ...Anyway, it’s been quite a while. Do you think the examination is over yet?” He re-tightened his uniform tie and cast a glance in the direction of the conference room. 
In response to Seiya’s mutterings, Tiramii suddenly froze. “D-Darn it, mii!” 
“...?” Seiya waited for him to continue. 
“I should have checked that old man’s bag, mii! I bet... I bet... he’s got those goods that city law prohibits selling in hotels, and he’s using them to do awful things to Biino-chan!” 
“Just what kind of goods are you talking about?” 
“You know, the kind that vibrate, vibrate, and vibrate!” Tiramii explained. “Grrr, he’ll pay! Vibration attacks are my thing! Grrrr! Raaaarrgh!” 
“Hey, wait! Sento’s with her, remember?” Seiya reminded him. “Calm down... ah, darn it!” 
Tiramii had already blown his top and was racing furiously in the direction of the meeting room. Seiya followed after, but at times like these, Tiramii’s acceleration was second to none. He’d probably already exceeded 3G. Seiya lost sight of him in no time. 
In the distance, there was a gunshot. 
Seiya ran down the hall and up the stairs. By the time the meeting room finally came into sight, Tiramii was lying prone on the floor in front of the room. He had probably tried to come inside and been shot to death by Isuzu. 
“Mmm... Mii... Mii...” 
“I knew this would happen...” Deflated by the predictable exchange, Seiya ran up to them. 
This time, though, things were a little bit different. Normally after shooting Tiramii to death, Isuzu would be seen stifling her anger as she put her gun away. But at the moment she was huddled on the ground, her face pale. 
“What’s wrong?” he demanded. 
“Ah. A ricochet broke the glass, and a fragment...” 
Seiya suddenly noticed that a nearby window had broken, lodging a glass shard in Isuzu’s left arm. “...?! Hey, that looks bad! We need to get you to a doctor—” 
“It’s all right. It’s not deep. But this has never happened before...” Isuzu pulled out the glass and staunched the wound with a handkerchief as she spoke. The cloth was quickly stained red. “I was only aiming for Tiramii, but it was the most incredible series of coincidences... Dr. Obiza had just declared that he’d figured out the cause of her condition, and this happened immediately afterwards.” 
“You think it’s not a coincidence?” Seiya clarified. 
“Yes. It’s the result of the curse. There’s no question in my mind.” Her tone was dead serious. Biino, who was thankfully uninjured, just kept watching them, lips pursed. 
“Well, that’s the reason you called me here, ain’t it?” Obiza said. He patted the fretting Biino on the shoulder and puffed out his chest confidently. “There’s a specter possessing this girl.” 
“A specter?” 
“That’s right, a specter. It’s looking down at us right now and laughing. It’s the one behind everything that’s happened.” 
“What? It’s watching us right now?” Seiya looked around the room. Obiza nodded firmly.

They decided to perform the exorcism (the treatment?) after closing time that night. Obiza had said that there was a chance that the ritual could cause collateral damage, so it was better to wait until the guests had all left. 
For the location of the ritual, they had selected the large stage in front of Maple Castle at the center of the park— the place they had performed the live show since Golden Week. It was a wide, open spot, and well-lit at night. Isuzu had also mentioned something about there being a barrier nearby, so if there was any danger, they had a place to evacuate to. 
“...I think I know why you called me here, fumo. I’m to beat up that specter if things go south, is that it?” Moffle said. He was doing a little shadow boxing with his paws. 
“With how busy things have been lately, I’ve got a lot of pent-up frustration worked up, ron. I’ve been looking for someone to take a crack at. Don’t worry! I’ll only leave him half-dead,” Macaron said. He was grinning, and radiated an ex-delinquent energy. 
“I know I asked you to be here, but you’re just making me more anxious right now...” Seiya muttered. The mascots’ muscle-headed tendencies might make it harder to negotiate, if necessary. Although, who even knew if you could negotiate with a specter... 
Meanwhile, Tiramii’s eyes were sparkling. “Thanks so much for being here, mii! It’s so great to have friends in a pinch! And don’t you guys worry! I brought lots of high-powered explosives too, mii!” 
“Why would you bring those?! Throw them away!” Seiya shouted at him angrily. He had been wondering about that suspicious stack of wooden boxes at the corner of the stage. So they were explosives, were they? 
“Huh? How come, mii? They could come in handy, mii.” 
“Did you forget how Sento got hurt this afternoon?” Seiya demanded. “That wasn’t a coincidence. If that specter thing gets it in its head to fight back, don’t you think those explosives are the first place it’ll look?” 
A ricocheting bullet had shattered the glass and hurt Isuzu. If that was within the specter’s powers, there was no way it wouldn’t be glad to have a crate of explosives nearby. 
But Tiramii just let out a sigh. “Mii. You just don’t get explosives, Kanie-kun.” 
“What?” Seiya asked. 
“What I brought is closer to plastic explosives—what you’d call Semtex or C4, mii. They’re really stable. Even if you set fire to them, they’ll just burn slowly, mii. They’re not going to explode because Isuzu-chan accidentally shoots them or something, mii.” 
“Oh?” 
“Basically, it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not ‘a bullet hits the explosives, then blammo!’ They’re perfectly safe until I plug in the detonator caps and trigger the planned explosion, mii. ...Of course, if the specter is a specialist like me, he might find a loophole...” He smiled cynically, but with confidence. “But that specter’s so pathetic, he’s reduced to tormenting poor little Biino-chan, you know? Some newbie trash who gets his rocks off preying on little girls couldn’t possibly comprehend my explosives, mii.” 
Seiya was reminded of Tiramii’s past life as a felon, getting sent to prison for cracking safes. He’d also shown a great deal of knowledge of explosives and traps during their trip to the dungeon, so his words carried some weight, at least. 
“For instance, this! Look at this, mii!” Tiramii reached into his pouch and pulled out what looked like a camera on a tripod. Seiya didn’t know how he fit it inside that tiny bag, but it was probably similar in principle to Isuzu’s musket— or perhaps, to Japan’s favorite cat robot. At any rate, these was no point in nitpicking every bit of magic he saw from these people. 
“What is it,” he asked, “a camera?” 
“It’s a sensor, mii. It’s called an iTRAP. It ignores mortals and responds only to spirits and fairies and the like, mii.” He extended the three legs and set it in place. 
“That’s quite a name...” Seiya commented. It reminded him of how questionable new gadgets with little practical use often stuck a lower-case “i” onto their names to make people think of Apple products. 
“I’m going to hook this iTRAP up to one of my carefully arranged directed explosives. Pass in front of the sensor, okay? It won’t react to a mortal like you, but if a magical realm creature like me passes in front...” 
He had Seiya walk in front of the sensor first. Nothing happened. 
Then Tiramii walked in front of the sensor. The iTRAP began sounding an alarm: Beep, beep, beep, piff! 
“Mii?!” 
It shot out a mine, about the size of a soft drink can, from nowhere in particular. The mine spun around, hung in midair for a moment, and then exploded. 
It was apparently true that they were directed explosives— the Munroe effect from the shaped charge fired the explosion exclusively at Tiramii, the one who had triggered the sensor. 
Blam. Hit from above by the targeted blaze, Tiramii burst into flame. 
“Tiramii?!” 
Moffle and Macaron ran up and sprayed Tiramii with the fire extinguishers they had prepared in advance. They eventually managed to put out the fire, but Tiramii’s limbs were still twitching. 
“Mii... Mii... Anyway, as you can see, it works.” 
“What were you thinking, ron? That’s not like you.” 
“To trigger your own trap... It’s outrageous, fumo.” Moffle said in agreement, as he and Macaron both pointed out the error of Tiramii’s ways. 
“I-I just wanted to prove how serious I am, mii. I really want to protect Biino-chan...” 
The two seemed a bit surprised by the sincerity in Tiramii’s eyes. They glanced at each other for a second, then both snorted as though nothing had happened. 
“Hmph. Speaking of Biino, she’s not here yet, ron.” 
“Moffu. She really should have been here by now...” 
“Oh, she’s here,” Seiya said. 
They looked and saw Bando Biino approaching from upstage. She was flanked by Isuzu and Obiza, and there was a strangely tense air around them. 
“You seem to be having quite an ordeal,” Isuzu said from Biino’s side, addressing Moffle, Macaron, and Tiramii. “...I’m aware that we asked you to come here, but you’re forbidden from taking any actions without orders. We’re outside the barrier, so we can’t afford to be reckless. Anything that goes wrong could cause trouble for Bando, or even the princess.” 
“Moffu. Got it, fumo,” Moffle said, stiffening a bit. 
“Do you really?” Isuzu demanded. 
“Of course I do, fumo.” 
“Incidentally,” she remarked, “the princess is currently watching us from above.” 
Seiya was reminded that they were right in front of Maple Castle; he looked up and saw Latifah waving at them from the ramparts high above. She was blind, of course, but she could probably still hear their conversation. 
“Good luck, everyone!” she shouted to them. Latifah had probably been informed of the situation, yet her expression was far from serious. She was acting like a leisurely spectator at a golf course. 
“Now that you know,” Isuzu told them, “I urge you to take this seriously.” 
“Moffu.” 
“Got it, ron.” 
“Understood, mii,” the three said in turn. 

“Now!” Old man Obiza clapped his hands. “We’re all here, are we? So now, I’ve got to ask you all to take off your panties!” 
“Knock that joke off,” Seiya told him. 
“No one asked you to take yours off, creepo!” Obiza retorted. 
“Just get started already!” 
“Get started?” The old man was confused. “Get what started?” 
“The ritual!” Seiya yelled. “The ritual! You were going to purge the specter possessing Bando Biino, weren’t you?!” 
“...Ah, that’s right, I completely forgot. Let’s see, better start with a magic circle...” Old man Obiza pulled out a piece of chalk and began drawing a magic circle (or something like it) slowly on the stage. Not only were his hands trembling, but he had to double-check his notes a few times, and even erased a symbol he’d drawn and redrew it. All in all, it didn’t inspire much confidence. 
“That’s one shifty old man, fumo.” 
“Are you sure about this, ron?” 
“Not really,” Seiya sighed. “He came highly recommended, but...” 
While Moffle and the others passed the time whispering to each other, Tiramii took Biino’s hand and spoke up encouragingly. “Biino-chan, do your best, mii. I’m sure we’ll get the curse removed, mii. Then we can be happy every day!” 
“R-Right,” she agreed shakily. “But are you sure you want to do all of this for me?” 
“Don’t be silly, mii! Our cast are like family, mii!” 
“Th-Thank you!” she gushed. 
Seiya watched their back and forth, and for some reason, he couldn’t help finding it tedious. “Come on...” he muttered. It was strange; most people would consider it a heartwarming scene. But Seiya was working overtime to go along with this, and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that this sentimental crap was all a waste of time. He wished they’d knock it off and get to the treatment already. 
Wait a minute. That’s strange, he realized. ”Sentimental crap?” While I do enjoy such turns of phrase, why would I feel that way about the exchange between Biino and Tiramii? 
On top of that, for some reason, it was Biino’s behavior, not Tiramii’s, that annoyed him. Yes, that was indeed strange... Why would he be annoyed with Biino, who objectively hadn’t done anything wrong? 
Seiya had a look around him. There was nothing odd about the behavior of Isuzu, Moffle, or Macaron. They didn’t seem moved by the scene, exactly; they just seemed like they wanted to do their best to help her. Seiya seemed to be the only one annoyed by it all. 
Now, he got to wondering: Seiya had never quite warmed up to Biino. She had always gotten under his skin, for some reason. That had only gotten worse when he’d learned she was the cause of the trouble— even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. I thought I was more even-tempered than this, Seiya thought. Why would I feel this way about Bando Biino— 
“Huh. You’re actually fighting it, boyo.” Obiza, who had finally finished drawing the circle, was looking at Seiya with one raised eyebrow. 
“Fighting what?” Seiya asked him. “What do you mean?” 
“The curse, of course. Never seen a mortal resist it before,” the old man remarked. “Ain’t you an interesting one?” 
“Well... I have been feeling inexplicably annoyed about all this,” Seiya admitted. “Are you saying that’s part of the curse, too?” 
“You bet. It starts with irritation, but that gradually builds up. Sooner or later it turns to anger and revulsion, and eventually you’d start wanting to do her active harm.” 
“Hmm...” 
Why were Isuzu and Moffle fine, then? he wondered. 
But when he pointed that out the discrepancy, Obiza explained. “Because they’re fairies, obviously.” 
“Ahh.” Moffle and Macaron he could understand, but was Obiza saying that Isuzu was also a fairy? That seemed a bit off, to Seiya. Other than the usage of that strange musket of hers, she seemed entirely like an ordinary human. 
Realizing that Seiya was looking at her, Isuzu looked back at him, confused. “...Is something wrong?” 
“No... it’s nothing,” he responded absently. 
“...?” Isuzu, now confused, didn’t reply. 
Obiza continued. “Well, let’s just say... mortals are more susceptible to the effects. The girl’s family spends a lot more time with her, so I’ll bet the curse is even more effective on them.” 
“Now that you mention it, it was her brother who stabbed her, fumo,” Moffle said, apparently remembering what had happened during the interview a while back. 
“Yep, that’d be the curse,” Obiza agreed. “If the exorcism goes off right, her brother will probably take his right mind back.” 
“Um. W-Wait, please.” Biino, who had been listening, finally interjected. “What about the other mortals I’ve made friends with at the park, then? Eiko-san and Shiina-chan... You made it sound like people like Kanie-san were rare.” 
“How should I know?” The old man asked her. “There’s all kinds of mortals out there.” 
“......” 
And that was the end of the subject. 
“Come on! Let’s get this over with, fumo! I wanna get home and play some SRW.” 
“You mean Z, ron? Lucky.” 
“I wish I’d been in that one too, mii...”