The Shaman can't become a Hero
Act 3: Drug
Chapter 20: Goma Trap
Implying, this injured Goma was made bait to lure in prey.
Not letting live or die, cutting the limbs to forbid movement. Moreover, leaving it some narcotics, it would become a lively bait that lets out a boisterous shout. The individual itself would use the drug to ease its pain. The right arm left untouched only for it to apply said drug.
Maybe this way of cruelly making bait of its own comrades is a tradition of Goma, or it could be that the students kept hunting the Monsters of this floor so well, it became an emergency situation that required such drastic measures, but anyway, at the current time, they’ve gone and done it.
And there happened to exist an idiot that would fall for this blatantly obvious trap.
Right, that would be me. Goddammit, I should have suspected something the moment I saw that fallen Goma. Encountering a conveniently weakened prey like that stray Red Dog twice, that kind of coincidence never happens.
“Wh, wh, w-w-w-what do we do now, Momokawa-kun!?”
That’s what I wanna say, I can’t say. No time to say.
At this time, we were at a T-junction like area, and Goma were piling in from all three of those directions. Taking to account the time we took killing that Goma, taking a break from the shock, and then inspecting the corpse till just now, it’d be ample time to block our path.
Each path is crowded with around 10 of them. I can see ones carrying worn out bows scattered among them, but they aren’t shooting. I guess they don’t feel the need to.
As if excited by the fact that they’ve successfully surrounded us, the Goma were increasingly excited, going Gaee Ghae in their hoarse cries, having quite a blast as if their game was already in the bag.
“G-gotta... just, break through somehow...”
Can’t think of anything better, don’t think it’ll go well either. My voice as I made the suggestion is literally shaking right now.
Still, we have to do it.
The path going straight had dead trees spread on both sides, it’s the way we came in. This path is wider that the two going left and right, but the twisted, crazy overgrown trees will make escape harsh.
Having said that, the other two paths are even more impossible. Their widths narrow, the way is totally blockaded by a fence of Goma. I can’t see a single gap to sneak past from.
“We’ll go straight. Right down the mid... no, a little to the left, the one with the bone club. I’ll stop it with ‘Blackhair Bind’, so we’ll push it aside and break through.”
“G-got it!”
Pretty good for an instant plan I’d say. If we had an Attack Skill right now, breaching through wouldn’t even be an issue... no, now’s not the time for that.
“Now, go! Entwine its escape, with weaving hair—”
Getting the aria done first, I run at once. Futaba-san’s following right behind.
Thinking in terms of physical charging power, she’d be way over me, but it’d be a problem if she froze up right before contact. Can’t say I’m overly confident in my own tackle strength, but right now, I have to run up front.
Okay, distance to Goma, less than 20 meters. The bloodstained spear in my hands feel unnecessarily heavy. Ah, that reminds me, Futaba-san had thrown hers away.
We could’ve rushed in, both a spear in hand, and maybe the enemy would even falter a bit... but can’t really do that anymore.
The Goma in front of us weren’t particularly showing any fear or worry at us charging in, they weren’t looking panicked at all. In fact, when they only pointed their weapons towards us saying Gue Guae, it felt as if they said, look at that fatty and pipsqueak pointlessly resisting, sneering at us.
I fucking get it already. This is just a struggle in vain, I know. But we can’t help it. This is our all, it’s also our only.
“—Blackhair Bind!”
The Curse I unleashed with a shout wringing out all my breath manifested itself right as I aimed.
The target being the club-wielding Goma was grabbed by the legs with the tentacles of hair suddenly sprouting from the ground, and fell forward. It seems that one was particularly stupid, without doing any actions to ease its fall, it bashed face first into the hard stone floor.
“GugEe!”
“Now!”
Not letting the opening from that pathetic fall pass by, we went full die hard and aimed for the home stretch.
But yet, faster than I could slide my body through, the Goma next to it came in to cover. They’re stupid, but maybe they understand we’re aiming there. Could also be that they’re simply chasing me like a newbie soccer player only chasing the ball.
In any case, we’re quickly approaching collision. That in mind, I’ll just have to give them another one.
“YaAAAAAAAAA!”
Taking the spear in my hands, I thrust towards the Goma with a knife blocking in path.
I don’t have the power to sparingly take down a Goma 1v1, and in fact, there’s a higher risk of me losing, but this time, I’ll have to win.
It’s a crude weapon made simply by sharpening a branch, but it does indeed have the length to deem it a ‘spear’. There’s that saying about needing 3 times a Kendo dan, so this reach that I possess will become my absolute advantage.[1]
Letting myself go with the momentum, I stab at the Goma, brandishing only a short knife, from a safe distance. Maybe the Power Seed was still in effect, but again, with a feeling softer than I imagined, the tip pierces through its black flesh.
But no matter how delicate it may be, it became a resistance enough to stop my feet.
“—kuu!”
The shock from going at it with all my power causes my feet to stumble. If I fall here, I die. With that desperate cause, I reclaim my footing.
At some point, I’d let go of my spear. The knife-wielding Goma was fallen over with the Fairy Walnut branch stuck in its gut, spouting noisy groans along with blood from its mouth. It wasn’t instant death, but it’s only a matter of time.
And with it having blocked my advance, a small but definitive lost time was created. This lost time proved enough for another, a different Goma from the one I stabbed, to jump in.
Weaving through the branches of the white, dead trees, a new Goma made its appearance. With around half the blade chipped off, it held it its hands, a hatchet. One hit from that and I’d be writhing on the floor, crying out much louder than the Goma.
No wait, having stopped and let go of the spear, I don’t have a single way to block—
“WaAAAAAAAA!”
Just then, charging in while screaming, came a giant shadow. Naturally, it’s Futaba-san. She was running behind me, but as I’d stopped, she’d caught up, and now passed me.
“Gii!?”
And as she was cutting through, she hit the Goma that had jumped in. The goma of around same size and stature as me is flicked away by Futaba-san’s titanic mass, and flies beyond the branches of the dead trees. On the other side, having not even realized she’d bumped into a Goma, Futaba-san only keeps running ahead.
This difference in weight, such thing being overwhelming to a level that high was made painfully clear to me.
No, forget that; having inadvertently avoided that crisis, now’s my chance to get away.
I’ll just quickly make a turn, follow behind Futaba-san and get out—
“Wah!?”
Just as I took a step, my body fell forward from the momentum.
Something caught my leg— as I thrust my hands forward to break my fall, and felt the prickling sensation of pain on my palms, I realized.
“Sh-shidd this fucker!”
It caught my leg, as in, that Goma I had tripped over using Blackhair Bind, it grabbed my leg with its hand.
Both legs were bound, but it had skillfully maneuvered itself, and reached for my leg. Luckily, it had let go of its club as it fell, and I’d avoided that counter attack, but what it did achieve was more than enough to cost my life.
“Shit, god fucking dammiiiiiiiiit!
Jamming my right hand into my gakuran pocket, in less than a second I take out the boxcutter I’d meant to lend to Futaba-san for dismantling work. With it’s characteristic clicking sounds, the blade was now completely out, at which point, a total of 2 seconds must have passed.
And by the 3rd second, I’d slashed at the Goma’s hand in all my rage.
“UgeEEe!”
Seems it didn’t have the guts to keep holding after having deeply cut with the fresh blade. Spilling its filthy blood, it moves its hand away from my ankle as if withdrawing.
“Haa... haa... G-gotta, run—”
I stood up in a panic, but it was too late.
“GrrRRr...”
“GekgeGuGE”
In front of me stands two Goma. From the right, from the left, every single Goma on this passage were creeping in to surround me.
To call it a matter of course, well, that’d only be right. Stabbing with a spear, falling over, slashing. With that many distractions, there was more than ample time to completely encircle me.
“Aa, aaa...”
I stand with my knees almost giving out, swing around my measly, unreliable, blood-stuck boxcutter.
It wasn’t thin enough to somehow charge through anymore. Front, back, left, right, the Goma savagely laughing at me from all sides, had doubled, no, tripled in number.
The ones in front of me, as in, the Goma occupying the direction we were running towards; beyond them, I catch sight of Futaba-san’s back running away at full speed without the slightest hint of turning around.
She’s still screaming out, single-mindedly escaping at full force. Even if I shouted out for help, it wouldn’t reach her ears.
No well, even if she heard, it’s simply impossible for Futaba-san to save me.
No Betrayal or abandonment, strangely, I didn’t even feel any resent. That being said, neither was there a gallant feeling of, at least let her be safe or something like that.
What occupied my heart was an empty resignation. Give it up. Ah, well, can’t be helped. This was only natural.
I accepted reality as is.
I mean, it’s obvious. I haven’t done anything for her. No, I guess I saved her life, but that’s it. I still haven’t built her up with the strength and mind to bravely take on Monsters.
And let’s say in the million to 1, the billion to 1 chance that Futaba-san does come back to help. Even say she gains the courage to valiantly fight to save me... there would still be no miracle. With that Skill set of hers, she can’t a do a thing against this many Goma.
To conclude, I can’t rely on being saved at all.
And what I can’t rely on even more, that would my own strength. Not a thing for offence, defence, or retreat; with a shit Skill set that constitutes the Shaman, I can’t do a thing being thus greatly outnumbered.
Ah, yeah. I’ll accept it. Right now, I’m checked... and mated.
“U-uaaAAAA!”
But, no dammit. I don’t wanna die.
Even realizing the futility of my resistance, I couldn’t stop swinging the only weapon I had on hand.
My boxcutter, with its reach going only as far a that of a knife, only cut the vacant air.
“Gugee, gekGEKgee”
“GugeGE!”
The Goma laugh at my fruitless resistance. These Monsters with their neanderthalic minds, they are sneering at man.
Shit, shit... fucking shit...
“Ow!?”
“GiyAu!?”
My side was pricked. Likely with something long like a spear. I didn’t see it coming, but in my state of absolute fear and despair, my field of view had greatly constricted. Everywhere aside from straight ahead, I was simply blind.
Even this wide open target got away with only a flesh wound because of ‘Pain Return’.
I see a Goma groaning, holding its right side exactly where it hit me.
“T-that right... you cut me... you get cut, right back!”
Ahaha, how’s that, awesome that’s what, that’s my Curse. Kill me and you die. Any of you bastards, feel like dying—
GaAAa!”
Right when I had so exclaimed, this time, a different Goma cried out. My leg was cut. Left thigh. The wound was shallow, but the pain burned all the same.
“A-aah... ow, shit, ouch...”
When I touched the wound with my left hand in an attempt to suppress it, I directly felt the dripping of blood. It’s much less serious than one from the Armor Bear, but experiencing that disastrous experience in no way meant I developed some resistance to light wounds. In fact, my fear of bleeding to death even increased.
Yet, this flowing blood, didn’t really feel like mine. Maybe the fear is paralyzing my thoughts, leading to this fuzzy sense of reality.
“A-ow!”
At some point, while raising pathetic cries of pain, I had dropped my boxcutter, my sole weapon. This time the attack came from a club. Aiming for my forearm, the strike relieved me of my weapon.
I looked, and found the assailing Goma holding its forearm, its club making an annoying clanging as it had been dropped. ‘Pain Return’ is working just fine. Serves you, I can’t really bring myself to say.
What flowed into my mind just now, was the event that I considered my most humiliating in my short 17 years of life. It was a line from that scene.
“Saitou, beat Momokawa’s shit in for a bit”
How’s my idea, genius ain’t it! I see his full on smug face in my mind saying that.
Yeah, right, you’re right Higuchi... that greatest weakness of ‘Pain Return’ you found, I’m in the middle of it having tested out right now.
Back then, the one to attack me was that bastard Masaru who was in the position of Higuchi’s slave. So he absolutely wouldn’t go as far as killing.
However, right now, the attackers numbered close to thirty. One punch per Goma, and while they’re just a bit hurt, I’m in tatters.
I don’t know if these Goma realized the principle of ‘Pain Return’. Whether they get it or not doesn’t matter much, as they’ve already actualized a plan of attack against me.
Ah, hell. I could be dragging in the one that delivers the finisher, but at that point, what meaning is there, really. These guys use their own as bait. Having one more die, they won’t even bat an eye.
Dying is bad as is, but dying meaninglessly is much worse. At least let me curse the one that did me in—
“Ah!”
With their next attack, that feeling too shattered like glass, into a myriad of pieces. It was a fragile dream. Real death, such a thing is much more miserable, irrational, abrupt, swift.
Fight back? How foolish. Thoughts that would only emerge from worthless self-respect. You could even say it’s that I’m unwilling to accept my utter powerlessness.
When exposed to insurmountable violence, your pride has no choice but to collapse like a house of cards, or more like, a house of feathers.
At the point I was kicked from behind, falling towards the floor, I realized all this.
“U, ah... sto”
A disgusting black foot that would make even one stuck bare into the gutters feel clean; belonging to a Goma, those kind of revolting foot appears at the tip of my nose— the time I finished thinking that, a kick had already landed at the base of my chin.
A dizzying shock. Is this called seeing stars? Staggered and in pain, my body that was falling forward innately turned around.
A dark ceiling. The white light panel that seemed like it could go out any moment felt like it was a metaphor for my remaining lifespan.
But as if complaining to me to stop being so fucking sentimental, my vision again fills in black. There were spots of white scattered, sand. It was the sole of a Goma’s foot.
“Hii—”
Even before I could instinctively move my arms to cover, the stomping commences. Straight on the nose. Stopped breathing for a moment.
“Ka, ha, a... Aa...”
An intense yet dull pain spread from the center of my face along with blood from my nose. Nose must’ve broke, at least a fracture. This would be my first broken bone, and also the first time blood flowed from both my nostrils.
Right now I must have the ugliest face I’ve ever had. It’s much worse than when Masaru beat me up.
My spirit isn’t much better either. I mean, I’ve already—
“Uu, Aa... sto... Stop...”
Next, a kick to the guts which I withstood— only to vomit. Yet right after, a different Goma delivered a Yakuza Kick as the same spot.[2]
There was no use in enduring. At this point I was writhing out with Guee guee sounds not all too indistinguishable from the Gomas’ own vulgar cries.
The nasal sanguine and bile spread around and smeared my face. Awful. It came from me, but it’s nonetheless gross.
Not just my face, even my heart felt filthy. It was a corrosion to the depths of my heart which crumbled my spirit.
As if my heart was a pillar, and its base became black and corroded, finally toppling over, that kind of feeling. No, just now, I’ve certainly... heard the sound of my heart getting crushed.
“Please... Stop...”
I begged for dear life.
Quite miserable, foolish words. But I said them the same. Someone weak as me, simply, can’t help but say them. Even if they’re facing Monsters who would never understand.
“GugEee!“
With a Goma’s energetic, fun-filled cry, the lynching carries on. Feet, feet, filthy feet. They intently keep bashing with their feet.
Because of ‘Pain Return’, a Goma can’t kick in repeatedly. Since the damage goes back and cause them to stagger. It must hurt to a degree. Thanks to which, the rate I’m getting knocked about was, in itself, gentle.
“Sto...sta...aa...”
But this kicking marathon wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Is it really that fun? Does their entertainment only consist of harassing weak prey? I keep waiting, but none of them take a weapon to let it end.
That’s good— I end up thinking, wonder why?
Help isn’t coming. Can’t do a thing myself. Even though after this, my body would eventually reach its limit, even though I’d just be tortured, kicked to death like this. Even though the only thing remaining in my life was pain and violence.
—I don’t wanna die.
A feeling spurting from the bits collecting into a mountain of trash, bits that were once my heart and my pride.
—I don’t wanna die.
Embers of survival instinct.
No... never... don’t wanna... die—
“—ooOOOOO“
A voice, I think I heard. Within my hazy conscience, the roar that beat into my eardrums, was unmistakably not one of the Gyaagyaas of the Gomas’ jolly making.
I could say that with a conviction, this voice was of that different a nature.
To say it another way, a voice that caused a tremor in the very depths of the soul. Like a wind that returns the once embers into a blaze— a powerful voice.
“ooOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”
Yes, that was indeed, the roar of a mad beast.