Read or Die:Volume2 Prologue
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This translation is a machine translation.
Be warned that the degree of translation error may be higher than usual. |
It’s just paper.
With only a slight gust of wind, it flies away; a single drop of water soaks it, making it warp and bend; a mere spark and it burns up into nothing but ashes.
So easily folded, torn, and once damaged, never returns to its former self.
It’s one of the weakest things in this world.
That fragile material, gathering someone’s scrawls and dripping ink onto its white surface,
a book.
Someone unknown, their entertainment, their thoughts, their whims, their beliefs, their egos all arranged upon that surface.
Nothing but trivial stories, bits of knowledge someone decided to share, selfish ideas and assertions — a mere vessel to hold it all.
That’s all paper is.
It can’t do anything other than be read.
In modern society, where the speed of transmitting information is paramount, its sluggishness is fatal. Its bulk is oppressive, and the cost and effort of preserving it is absurdly high.
Its utility is vanishing into a distant future.
Paper. That’s all it is. Paper.
And yet, why is it that we continue to treasure and love it with a mad devotion?
—-
The interior of the cave was dark.
Well, that’s hardly surprising — one rarely comes across bright caves.
The path twisted and wound, so it was impossible to know exactly where they were, but they must have walked at least five hundred meters from the entrance by this point.
The cave was deeper than expected.
There weren’t many inclines or descents, yet walking under only the light of a Maglite in total darkness compounded both their physical and mental fatigue.
However, Alex Boldwin felt none of that right now.
Though he was a man in his sixties, his stride was spry enough to evoke thoughts of a boy scout. In his backpack clinked hammers, pickaxes, brushes, and other excavation tools in a cheerful rhythm.
What drove Alex onward was a blend of fame, desire, and greed — gasoline in his tank.
That fuel kept his aging engine churning with unforeseen power.
He had spent the first half of his life as an archaeologist, and the latter as a tomb raider.
And in this final chapter of his life, he had thrown himself into one last, improbable challenge.
Here, in the heart of Africa, from beneath the deep cover of its “Dark Continent,” where satellites and survey teams rarely dare to pry — sometimes held back by political alliances, sometimes by the vast, unexplored virgin land itself — had emerged an incredible find.
And yet, even after all this time, its secrets remained thoroughly impenetrable.
The depths of this jungle.
More than three thousand different tribes.
More than one thousand different languages.
…And the mysterious mechanism, crafted by nature itself, remained sealed tight, its lock still untouched.
Call it metaphor, if you will. But prying open that sealed chamber— that was Alex’s job.
He now presses forward into the cave.
Beyond its mouth, there must lie some form of treasure, one not meant to be found by just anyone.
Just a few days ago, he had encountered the Zobka people— a tribe so fantastical, they could’ve walked straight out of an adventure novel from half a century ago.
They practiced ritual magic, excelled in hunting, and—unbelievably—could communicate with animals as if by telepathy.
Alex was no anthropologist, but even he understood that their unusual abilities held immense value. That value might only be realized by being shared with the world.
Among the tribe, he had discovered a young man who spoke of the gods in whispers, and Alex pursued the truth behind those whispers with relentless curiosity.
The boy and his kin, so vividly like characters out of a novel, eventually explained the reason behind their tale.
Everything, they said, came from the Book of Wisdom.
That book—
an ancient manuscript passed down among the Zobka—
contains the laws of living in harmony with nature,
methods for speaking with animals,
and the key to interpreting the language of weather and omens.
It was said to be an ancient text passed down through the Zobka tribe. Within its pages were recorded teachings on how to live in harmony with nature, how to communicate with animals, how to understand weather patterns,
grasping,
longevity,
and
the secrets
of a long life.
Their ancestors had added to it gradually over the course of their endless history, writing bit by bit for their descendants.
The thing Alex was seeking in the depths of the cave he now traversed… that book of wisdom was supposed to be there.
Only the elders of the Zobka tribe were permitted to lay eyes directly on the Book of Wisdom.
Others could only learn of it through oral transmission passed down from long ago.
The elders would, when they discovered something during their lives that they deemed of value to future generations, carve it into the cave wall.
It was a deeply fascinating cultural practice in many ways—but Alex had no doubt about his own reason for being here.
“That book… will make
money.”
Publishing it in an academic journal was out of the question for a tomb raider like him. He’d be better off selling it directly to a scholar. Whether it was a zoologist or anthropologist didn’t matter—either way, he figured he could get at least several million dollars for it.
This was unknown wisdom, accumulated steadily over unfathomably long stretches of time.
It was certainly deserving of respect.
But Alex, as an individual, wished to prioritize his own happiness. No matter what.
And so, Alex infiltrated the cave said to contain the Book of Wisdom.
One of the younger tribesmen who had spoken to him of its secrets had insisted on accompanying him, but he came to realize that Alex was not, in fact, a “good person,” and declined to join him after all.
If he didn’t hurry, that young tribesman might tell the others.
Alex himself wasn’t exactly without guilt—he couldn’t deny that—but it wasn’t something he had taken lightly.
If he were caught, he wouldn’t be able to wield a machete or a blade.
No, the best course was to grab the book quickly and flee this place.
Upon entering the cave, Alex once again had the chance to savor the atmosphere of a true adventure novel.
The passageways were rigged with various traps.
Pitfalls, falling spears,
swinging ceilings,
collapsing floors...
Of course, these were all intended to deter intruders, but from his perspective, they were more laughable than threatening.
In the four and a half centuries of tomb-raiding history,
such traps
were all too familiar.
The chief’s authority was absolute.
Apparently, no one from the tribe had ever attempted to break in.
As a result, these traps had long since lost their edge, outdated and ineffectual.
“...They should’ve paid more attention to recent trends.”
Suppressing a smug smile, Alex continued forward.
Strangely enough, he actually found himself enjoying this tomb raid.
Becoming an academic in the first place had been influenced by the adventure novels he devoured in his youth.
But real excavation work had nothing to do with fantasy, adventure, or mystery.
Excavation was a world of pure
wilderness—
It required massive expenditures, meticulous research, and thorough preparation.
To form a team and secure funding,
one needed either scholarly clout or a wealthy sponsor…
He’d have to bow his head to a sponsor.
Whether it was Nazi Germany,
ancient
grudges,
or vengeful spirits—no such melodramatic enemies had ever surfaced.
But sabotage from rival teams? That he had suffered many times over.
In the end, fed up with such entanglements,
he switched careers and became a tomb raider.
The rewards were more than enough to justify the change,
but along the way, both his heart and his name had become thoroughly stained.
And yet now, Alex found himself standing
on high ground.
For the first time in decades, he was in the mindset of a man in search of adventure.
He thought back to that book, the one said to
bridge
human and animal understanding.
A book that brought to mind King Solomon’s ring of legend.
Passages from beloved adventure novels came faintly to mind, as if rising from the depths of memory.
What he was doing now,
was unmistakably
theft.
Even if he didn’t try to justify it,
he couldn’t deny that some part of him was enjoying it.
> “……………?”
The dim light from the maglite blurred at the edge of his vision.
The path had come to an end.
Swallowing the breath that had gathered in his mouth,
Alex quickened his pace.
That faint light ahead was likely natural light.
If that were true, then the room ahead must have an opening—
Almost certainly the hidden location
where the “Book of Wisdom” was kept.
His heartbeat quickened—not from haste, that much was certain.He never had any intention of turning back.
Even as the thought crossed his mind—“If there’s a trap here, I’ll definitely fall right into it”—he pressed forward, carefully stepping across the solid, unmoving stone floor.
It seemed even misfortune was on his side now.
The final obstacle he faced was a massive
spider—
Or rather, its web.
He cut through the fragile threads with his Maglite and proceeded onward, finally reaching the end of the passage.
There, just as he had anticipated, was a chamber.
Surprisingly vast—perhaps even wider than a chapel.
A space enclosed by rock, oval and circular in shape.
The ceiling reached the height of a two-story building, and from a fissure like a crack in the earth, sunlight poured in.
Seeds must have drifted in from that opening, for grass had taken root in patches across the floor, stretching out to bask in the light.
It looked just like a hidden treasure room out of an adventure novel’s illustration.
A happy ending was within reach, and a smile came unbidden to Alex’s face.
At the center of the room was a platform constructed from stacked stone.
Likely for flood protection, it stood noticeably higher than the surrounding floor.
There was no doubt: the Book of Wisdom was there.
So he thought—but then Alex blinked in confusion.
There, atop the platform, was a human figure.
For a moment he assumed it was a statue—
But it was too lifelike.
Moreover, the figure’s appearance didn’t resemble any known statue seen in Africa.
Long black hair.
Their face couldn’t be seen due to their posture, but from the color of their hands and feet, it was clear they were not of African descent.
She was dressed plainly in a white coat, unconcerned that it was getting dirty as she sat directly on the altar. Her lower half was not covered by pants or slacks, but rather a skirt. Looking more closely, the shirt beneath her coat was pushed up by a generous bust. A woman.
“…A woman?”
The words escaped Alex’s lips as a question, but the woman didn’t seem to have noticed his presence. Her eyes were focused intently on the book in her hands.
It was a coarse, crudely-bound book, made by stitching together animal hide. The mere act of flipping a page suggested that without her gestures, it might not even be recognized as a book.
In a secret cave deep in the heart of Africa, in a place hardly befitting a jungle, a woman in a white coat was reading a book.
In that instant, Alex wondered if he had been caught in some kind of illusion. He couldn't accept what he was seeing. But if this was a spell, what would be the point of conjuring such a harmless hallucination?
Alex’s logical mind swiftly concluded that this was no illusion.
And yet, the woman didn’t acknowledge him. She continued reading as if he weren’t there.
Suppressing his confusion, Alex decided to initiate communication.
“Hey!”
He cautiously stepped forward and called out to her. But the woman didn’t react.
“Hey, you! Woman!”
He stepped even closer, raising his voice a level. There was no way she hadn’t heard him—but the woman remained silent.
Alex reached into his knapsack and pulled out a handgun.
Though he had taken up the gun, Alex had almost never used it to shoot a person. The times he had were only when his life was truly at stake.
“Can’t you hear me, damn it?! Hey!”
The stone steps leading up the altar came to an end. The muzzle of the gun remained pointed at the woman. Even now, she made no attempt to respond. She had spread the coat across the floor in a semicircle and was slowly turning the pages of the leather-bound book.
Now at close range, Alex could see the writing on the hide. It was script unlike any he had ever seen. Parts resembled Scripili language, but the characters were even more primitive and rudimentary.
No doubt it was a script that had evolved in isolation, passed down only among the tribe. The question was: why was this woman able to read it so fluently? A linguist…? That was the immediate hypothesis that came to his mind. Indeed, the aura she exuded was that of a researcher or scholar, not unlike someone you’d find behind a desk.
Alex kept the gun aimed at her head, trying to gauge not just her identity but whether she was the mastermind behind this.
With more force behind his voice, he opened his mouth.
“Enough already…!”
“Paoooooon!”
The first words the woman returned to him were utterly foreign to Alex’s ears. Startled, his finger nearly squeezed the trigger, but he hastily diverted the barrel.
“………………………”
The woman slowly lifted her face. Yellow-skinned, East Asian. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, though perhaps a bit younger. She wore thick, unfashionable glasses with black rims. Beneath them, her eyes shone with a brilliance of purpose — much like Alex’s own had an hour before.
The woman nodded repeatedly to herself, murmuring softly.
“So that’s it… elephants… they can talk…”
The joy of absorbing knowledge softened her cheeks.
A goofy, indescribable smile appeared on her face.
“…Hey!”
Somehow regaining his composure, Alex raised his voice from above the woman’s head.
“Yes?”
Finally, the woman’s gaze and awareness locked onto Alex. It was as if she’d run into a familiar face whose name she couldn’t quite place, looking up at him with a defenseless, questioning expression.
“………………………”
About five seconds of silence passed.
“…Who are you?”
The woman tilted her head greatly. The childlike gesture of hers made her look all the younger and softer.
“That’s my line! Who the hell are you?! What are you doing here?! What’s with that getup?!”
As Alex continued to shower her with a mix of anger and confusion, the woman straightened herself.
“S-sorry… I… my name is… Yomiko Readman…”
“Yomiko?”
The unfamiliar sound of the name slightly eased Alex’s intensity. Even as she nervously gave her name, Yomiko responded politely.
“I’m sorry, I just, I came here thinking I’d, um, study this book a little… but it was so interesting I kinda got caught up reading it…”
Study it? Interesting? Got caught up reading it?
The words spun around in Alex’s head — words he could recognize, but couldn’t quite comprehend.
“Well, about my outfit… I’m sorry, but this is the only clothing I have… And, um, it’s standard-issue from the British Library, so I don’t think it’s anything particularly strange, but… um, did something about it bother you?”
Yomiko looked up at him as if seeking reassurance, but her hands still held the book tightly against her chest.
“British Library? …From England?”
“Yes!”
Presented with a puzzle piece that didn’t seem to fit at all, Alex pressed further, searching for a hint.
“…You—where did you come in from?! Do you have the knowledge to get through all those traps?!”
“Huh? There weren’t any traps, though…”
“Don’t lie! From where—how did you get in?!”
“The emergency exit.”
As if to prove it, Yomiko pointed at a section of the wall. There, opposite the corridor where Alex had entered, was another passage.
A corridor with few bumps or dips, a straight path as far as the eye could see.
Even above the corridor, some sort of sign with characters written on it was affixed to a board.
“…Huh, that’s an emergency exit?”
“Yes, that’s what it says.”
Her nonchalant answer made Alex’s eyes widen.
“You can read it!? Those letters—that book!?”
“Uh, I’m sorry…”
There was no need for her to apologize, but Yomiko raised a hand to her head as if reflexively.
“Why!? That’s the Sibuka tribe’s traditional script!”
“Well, that said… the grammar is the same as Swahili, and the rest is just recognizing individual letters from patterns. If you do that, you can kind of, sort of, more or less… get the gist of it.”
The extraordinary language comprehension ability she had developed in order to read books. Anyone who knew Yomiko Readman would nod in understanding. It was like the neck of a giraffe that had stretched out over generations to reach higher branches for food—an evolutionary adaptation for survival. In Yomiko’s case, it was her desire to read books from as many countries as possible that unconsciously drove her ability to new heights.
But that didn’t matter at all to Alex right now. He forcefully set aside his ever-growing questions for the time being and chose to focus on his immediate goal. There was no guarantee the Sibuka pursuers wouldn’t come.
“.................. Enough. Forget the details.”
“Huh?”
Alex pointed the muzzle of his gun at the book Yomiko was holding.
“Hand over that book.”
At his words, Yomiko’s demeanor changed.
Clutching the book tightly, she held it as if she would never let go.
“W-why?! I haven’t even finished reading it yet!”
The hesitation in her eyes vanished, replaced by a strong, determined look.
“Shut up! Just give it to me quietly! That thing is the treasure my whole life has been about!”
“A treasure? You treat books like that? Who...! Who are you?!”
More questions came spilling from Yomiko’s lips, but Alex gave no answer.
“It’s none of your business. Hand it over, or this thing’s gonna put a hole in your head.”
He thought even himself—
What a cliché line.
Just another stock phrase from some adventure novel.
What bothered him most was that the one using it always ended up being the villain who got taken down by the hero in the end.
Had he really spent the last five years playing the part of a second-rate villain?
Alex let out a bitter, self-deprecating chuckle.
But unlike the way it goes in adventure stories, he had no intention of being defeated in the final act.
He'd come this far—he was aiming for a hard-boiled novel now.
“.....................”
Yomiko was silent for a long time, staring at the barrel of the gun, but finally, slowly, she held out the Book of Wisdom.
Good.
A woman who defied a gun wasn’t something he was equipped to deal with.
Alex, trying to look appropriately villainous, twisted his lips into a sneer.
“Sorry. This one’s going to serve a better purpose with me.
Better with me than rotting in a hole like this, right?”
But Yomiko met Alex’s gaze with an intensity and clarity that didn’t waver in the slightest.
“……That book is……”
“Huh?”
There wasn’t a trace of fear in her eyes.
Not even the slightest shadow of defeat.
“……That book has been created slowly, bit by bit, over countless, countless years.
Even now, it continues to be created and recreated.
We have no right to take it out of here with us—none at all.”
Her voice was calm, but it carried a strength that brooked no argument.
Even while staring down the barrel of a gun, she did not flinch.
Alex felt a chill run down his spine.
“That book already belongs here. It always has. Please… think again. You’re trying to take this book out of the hands of the people who wrote it.”
It was a voice that pierced deep into his heart.
The face of the teacher who had scolded him the day he first shoplifted, back when he was a boy obsessed with adventure novels, floated to mind.
But even so, Yomiko's words were not enough to change Alex’s course of action.
“…Thanks for pointing out the emergency exit. I’ll make sure to get back safely.”
Turning his back, he began to descend the stone steps.
It felt dangerous to look into Yomiko’s eyes any longer.
But then—
Just as the sole of his boot touched the floor again, something changed.
“………………!?”
The floor quivered faintly beneath his feet.
Not only that—
Even the grasses began to rustle, trembling violently.
“What the…?”
Before Alex could finish his sentence, a section of the ceiling gave way and collapsed.
Rocks clashed and tumbled.
A thick cloud of dust surged upward, smoke and soil swirling in the air.
“An e-earthquake…?”
He started to guess—but Yomiko’s calm voice cut through his thought.
“It’s a trap. Why else do you think the elders of the Zubka tribe never wrote anything past this point?”
“The book isn’t supposed to be taken past here.”
Yomiko stood above him now, positioned atop the altar.
Strangely, their positions had reversed.
Now it was she looking down at Alex.
“If you try to carry the book out of here—
The cave itself will collapse.
It must be some sort of mechanical safeguard mechanism.”
“That’s absurd! There’s no way people living deep in the jungle could construct such a—what!?”
Just as he started to shout, The Book of Wisdom gave a sudden tremor. It felt as if it had shivered in his hands.
“Hii!?”
“Please… put it back. The book, this place—I want that too.
No one else does. No one but you.”
Yomiko’s voice was strangely calm.
As if she wasn’t shaken at all, she stood firm upon the altar.
Alex turned and fled.
Clutching the book that had nearly slipped from his grasp, he dashed for the emergency exit.
“Wait—! Please!”
Yomiko leapt down after him, landing on the stone floor in pursuit of Alex, who refused to answer her appeals.
The path leading from the emergency exit was a straight corridor.
If her words were to be believed, there were no traps left.
All he had to do was flee.
For Alex, that was the perfect situation.
Even though he was older now, his body was still well-trained from years of fieldwork.
And with his life on the line, he could run faster than he’d ever expected from himself.
Of course, the collapse was already beginning behind him.
As he ran through the passageway, pebbles and dust rained down from the ceiling.
In just a few more moments, the entire cave might be buried beneath a blanket of sand.
Giving it everything he had— his entire life poured into this desperate flight— Alex pressed on.
From behind him came a cry.
“The book—! Give it back, please!!”
Without thinking, he turned around.
Back down the corridor, Yomiko stood. She was unbuttoning her coat. Yomiko flipped her coat up as she enter a sprint after him. The elegance and power of her stride was almost unbelievable—it defied the expectations of her gender. Clearly, her mind was focused on a single goal: recovering the Book of Wisdom.
“The book—!”
It was like a ghost chasing him up from the underworld. To Alex, that’s what she seemed like. But his shock was quickly drowned by a rising wave of dread.
Just as he entered a wider section of the hallway, a massive stone sphere suddenly dropped from a high recess near the ceiling.
“...!”
The soundless shock seemed to melt into the air. The force of the impact shook the entire corridor, and even Yomiko turned to look back.
The huge stone orb dropped into a groove carved into the floor along the corridor’s edge, neatly slotting into place—and then began to roll forward, quickly consuming the passage.
Of course, it was chasing both Yomiko and Alex.
“Hyah!”
With the danger literally looming behind her, Yomiko let out a high-pitched shriek, seeming to snap back to herself. Her pace slowed just a little.
Even in this desperate situation, Alex found himself dumbfounded.
Was that woman faster when it involved books?!
The stone sphere must have been at least four and a half meters in diameter.
It barreled down the passage after them.
Truly, to the bitter end, this was an adventure novel!
Just as Alex was cursing the absurdity of it all in his mind, the sound of footsteps behind him suddenly vanished.
Was she crushed!?
He turned around reflexively—and saw something utterly unexpected.
Yomiko had stopped running.
She was standing her ground. Facing the sphere.
“What are you—?!”
Alex nearly shouted at her in rebuke, forgetting entirely who he was or what side he was on.
In that moment, the distance between the two closed rapidly. In another second, Yomiko would be crushed.
“Screw this—I’m out!”
Making a perfectly rational decision under the circumstances, Alex focused only on what lay ahead and kept running.
Up ahead, he could see it now—a pinprick of light from the outside world.
“!”
His face lit up with joy as he accelerated.
By now, Yomiko wasn’t even a memory in his mind.
“………………”
Meanwhile, Yomiko stood facing the oncoming sphere, calm. She slipped a hand into the inner pocket of her coat.
“…!”
She pulled her hand back out, holding a slip of paper between her fingers—a long, narrow rectangle, like a strip used for writing wishes.
White.
Even in the dim corridor, it caught the light like a blade.
“Pardon me...!”
With a quiet murmur not meant for anyone in particular, Yomiko swung her hand wide.
The paper flew from her fingertips, gliding toward the surface of the massive stone that was nearly upon her.
The strip of white left a streak in the darkness—a trail of afterimages. Dozens, hundreds more followed, spreading like a net over the orb’s curved surface.
A piercing sound sliced through the gloom.
A high-pitched whistle, like something being torn open.
But the stone sphere that was supposed to follow… didn’t.
Five seconds passed.
Then ten.
Still, it didn’t appear.
Amid the crashing rumble of destruction, only one voice rang out—
“Boooook!!” cried Yomiko as she started running again.
“Gwaaahhh!”
Alex burst into the light, emerging into the blazing savannah sun—the same scorched landscape as before they entered the cave.
“Gahh, gahh…!”
He coughed violently, each gasp a raw affirmation that he was still alive.
But even that desperate breathing was cut short by a voice behind him, reaching his lungs like an icy wind.
“Booook! Pleeease give it baaaack!”
Even in this sweltering heat, her voice sent chills down his spine.
That was Yomiko, still giving chase.
What the hell!? Hadn’t she been crushed…!?
Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still under some kind of illusion.Was that woman in the coat—some kind of monster conjured by sorcery!?
His rationality was beginning to fray. And then, a miracle appeared in his eyes.
A lifeboat.
It was a jeep. Probably the one that woman had used when she first arrived at the entrance.
Though judging by her earlier behavior, he couldn’t imagine she actually had a license.
Without hesitation, he dove into the driver’s seat.
And luck, or perhaps lingering misfortune, was still with him—the key was already in the ignition.
“Book!!”
Yomiko burst out of the tunnel entrance just as the jeep roared to life.
Whether she saw him or not, the tires kicked up a cloud of dust behind him, as the jeep tore off into the distance.
“Waa— koff!”
The dirt flung up by its departure, combined with the plume of rock dust erupting from the collapsed cave behind her, completely engulfed Yomiko.
“Koff! Cough! Agh, geez!”
Her coat was caked in soil. Grit clung stubbornly to her hair, grinding between the strands.
But any discomfort vanished in an instant before her singular sense of purpose.
“…Book!”
She fixed her eyes on the space where the jeep had vanished, trailing a wake of dust as Alex made his escape.
“Ugh, what the heck are you doing, Joker-san!?”
She grumbled irritably at her superior, who should’ve been in the jeep. Yomiko herself didn’t hold a driver’s license of any kind. Both she and Joker had come here riding in a jeep driven by staff.
For whatever reason, the jeep had been left behind. Maybe while she’d been lost in reading the Book of Wisdom in the cave, Joker had taken shelter in the shade of the trees.
In any case, the fact remained—she had no ride. And that was a serious handicap.
“……………………Well then—no choice!”
Even so, she wasn’t the type to give up.
When a book was involved, Yomiko’s thought process veered wildly off the rails of conventional reason.
To chase after the jeep, Yomiko dropped into a standing-start position, just like in a track-and-field sprint. There was no real need for it, of course—it was purely a matter of spirit.
“Ready…!”
But the “go” signal came unexpectedly… from the earth itself.
The ground gave a mighty tremble.
“Abeshi!?”
Just as she was about to launch forward, Yomiko landed flat on her butt. But the cave had already finished collapsing—so why was the ground still shaking?
As the thought crossed her mind, it trembled again. She’d just started pushing herself back up, only to go sprawling face-down in the dirt.
“Awabyuu!?”
The cause of the tremors appeared from within the trees. A massive shadow loomed, completely blanketing Yomiko’s toppled form.
“………………Ah.”
---
“Ah—hah! Hyaaaah!”
Alex ran full-speed across the savannah, his face a twisted blend of victorious euphoria and lingering confusion.
But that confusion gradually ebbed away… replaced by satisfaction, as his eyes drifted to the Book of Wisdom sitting on the passenger seat beside him.
He did it. He’d won. This was victory.
If he brought this book to an airport, flew off to some foreign land, and sold it—he’d have enough cash to live out his retirement in comfort.
He’d just won the biggest gamble of his life.
His hands began to tremble, rattling uncontrollably.
He thought it was just the adrenaline, bubbling up and spilling out past his control.
“Iyaaaa! Haaaah!”
Alex shouted as if trying to pierce the sky above the savannah. But the trembling in his hands wouldn’t stop. On the contrary—the jeep itself began to shake.
“...Wha!?”
Why was the car shaking!? Alex looked around in a panic, and then saw it—caught it in the rearview mirror.
He saw it.
“…………………………A-Aaaaaah!?”
“Book—! Please return it!”
It was chasing him—churning up dust and rumbling the earth beneath its feet.
The tremors rattling his hands weren’t just nerves—they were being transmitted through the ground by massive feet.
And once again—how many times had it been today?—an illustration from an adventure novel flashed through Alex’s brain.
Yomiko Readman was riding an African elephant… chasing down his jeep.
“This has to be a dream… A joke…”
But despite the absurdity, this was undeniably reality.
“Paooooon!”
Yomiko’s voice reached him in a foggy haze, as though it were an auditory hallucination. Come to think of it, she’d made a sound just like that back in the cave.
“Excuse me, coming through!”
From behind him came a voice—and a sharp slicing sound through the air. In the rearview mirror, something square and white flashed—and the jeep flipped sideways in an instant.
“Byah! Agh!”
The rear left tire detached from the body and went rolling off. The exposed shaft showed a cleanly sliced edge—but Alex didn’t even register it.
Because his body had just been flung, full-force, into the savannah dirt.
“Guh—! Aghh…”
It was sheer luck he hadn’t broken any bones, but the impact had jolted his entire body. Head ringing with numbness, he shook it off and somehow at the edge of his vision, Alex caught sight of The Book of Wisdom.
“Ah—!”
He reached for it—
And just as he did, the elephant’s massive foot came crashing down like a giant weight.
“Gah!”
It didn’t crush his hand, but the sheer terror froze him in place.
Timidly, Alex raised his gaze to the towering beast.
“…I’ll be taking that book back now.”
From high above, Yomiko looked down at him with quiet authority.
Alex, body trembling, accepted his defeat with every fiber of his being.
“Paoooon!”
The African elephant lifted its trunk high, letting out a triumphant call—
As if it fully understood what was going on.
“Paoooon~♪”
Yomiko echoed the sound with a bright smile.
It was a response filled with gratitude, though of course, Alex couldn’t begin to comprehend it.
“…What do you think you’re doing, The Paper?”
Just as she was sharing a moment of camaraderie with the elephant, a new figure stepped forward and picked up The Book of Wisdom from where it had been dropped in the dirt.
Brushing the sand from the cover with a light pat-pat, he shot her a disapproving glare.
Yomiko turned at the voice, her eyes widening at the familiar sight.
“Mr. Joker! You’re one to talk—what were you doing, abandoning the car like that!?”
With his neatly combed blond hair and deep navy suit, the man stood there—looking every bit out of place in the blazing African savannah.
Holding a parasol aloft, he stood as if nothing were unusual.
“Well, when you failed to return, I set out to explore the area. It is Africa, I can’t come here very often, after all.”
Joker said casually, his tone betraying a personality not easily dealt with.
With a single glance, his narrow eyes seemed to grasp the book’s true nature.
“…You took it out of the site? I told you—we only had an agreement with the Nmbuka tribe for an inspection.”
“I’m sorry… but it wasn’t my fault…”
Yomiko stammered. Joker looked between the overturned jeep and Alex. It wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened.
“…Well, it can’t be helped. File a report detailing the situation. We can’t linger much longer. If your investigation is complete, begin preparations to return.”
His tone wasn’t harsh, but it left no room for argument.
“Ugh… oh—oh no!!”
Suddenly, Yomiko shouted, as if remembering something important.
“What is it?”
“Joker-san! What day is it today!?”
“May 21st. Why?”
“Oh no! I won’t make it in time!”
Still perched atop the elephant’s head, Yomiko began flailing her arms in a panic.
“Joker-san, I’m returning to Japan directly! I’ll fax my report later!”
Joker furrowed his perfectly groomed brows at her abrupt declaration.
“If it’s Japan, you can return with us later. I’ll be heading back to England soon and—”
“I have to go now, or else——!”
“Paooon!”
As if in sync with Yomiko’s shout, the elephant turned and thundered off across the savanna.
“Hey! Wait, The Paper!”
Whether Joker’s voice carried over the thundering hooves was anyone’s guess. And even if it had, whether Yomiko would actually come back was a whole other question.
Like something out of a fable, Joker silently watched her ride off on the elephant.
“…When did our paper-user become an animal handler, I wonder…”
His gaze then turned to Alex, still collapsed on the ground.
“…Well then, I suppose I’ll be asking you for an explanation… thoroughly.”
The smile that spread across his face, even under the blazing savanna sun, was cold as ice.
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