The world of strange stories.
Dreamland.
The two shikigami of the Kamiya family appeared in response to his call.
Kamiyagawa: "Uh... what did you two do last night? Why do I feel that you are so depressed?"
Mary:…
Prajna: "Tsk..."
Because he lost the fight last night, Prajna was in a bad mood. After seeing Kamiya, I thought about the origami bird again and felt even more unhappy.
She clicked her tongue, folded her hands on her chest, and took two faint steps away from the Valley of God.
Kamiyagawa:?
What's wrong with this guy?
Did I mess with her?
Don't understand.
…
We briefly rested the team.
Kamitani River once again launched an impact towards the big head in the sky.
This thing is in extremely bad condition today. It can't even run. It's probably really going to die.
"Zashiki, give me good luck!"
"Prajna, use your makeup to block its route!"
"Mary, uh... you hold the ground."
While commanding his kaidans to fight, Kamiya silently recited, "Use my god of life to summon the god of nothingness, and use my own energy to combine with that god of nothingness", and summoned the Yin Thunder.
The mighty water thunder spread up, and combined with the white powder sprinkled by Prajna, directly hit the head.
After that, all I saw was the big floating head falling down with a howl and moan, and a gossamer-like breathing sound coming from the mouth of this giant creature, as if there was only air coming in and no air coming out.
As it fell, it began to slowly decompose and turned into balloons with human heads.
Those balloons were also in a dying state.
The nylon-like outer skin easily broke apart and vented, turning into a layer of shriveled skin that fell to the ground and turned into fly ash and disappeared.
"Done?" Kamiyakawa extinguished the electric light in his hand and raised his head.
Above the scattered lights of the paradise, in the blue-black sky, all the balloons with human heads in the sky were broken and falling.
Their weak wailing sounds gathered together, as if they were crushed and scattered in the wind, whimpering.
Very permeable.
Countless balloons fell, and at this moment Kamiyakawa's body was filled with auspicious red air.
[Mirage Cloth Bag] There was a metallic buzzing inside, and the sound was sonorous.
The bronze [Candlemaker Monk's Blood Pump] shot out, shot straight into the sky, and sank into the largest cluster of balloons.
Buzz.
Mobile phone vibration.
The good news that Kamiyagawa had been waiting for for more than a week finally came——
[The boss is dead and received 730 soul crystals! ]
In addition, when the bronze blood pump flew into the air and slowly fell back to Kamiya's hand, it also came with a red and transparent Kaitan Heart Blood Pump, which seemed to have thick liquid rolling inside.
[Obtain C-level Kaidan’s heartfelt work! ]
"Not bad, I got another C-level one." Kamiyakawa put away his heartache with satisfaction.
This thing is a necessary material for making dark candles for shikigami to advance.
He still has two C-level coins in his hand. In the future, Prajna will upgrade from D-level to C-level, and Mary will need one each to upgrade from C-level to B-level.
In addition, the operating mechanism of [Candlemaker Monk’s Blood Pump] is——
The higher the rating of the killed monster,
. The harder it is to extract the other person's heart and blood on his deathbed.
Currently, the blood pump is pumping C-level monsters, which already feels a bit forced.
Mainly relying on the good luck of Zashiki Warashi to ensure the explosion rate.
"In this case, it will be very difficult to collect the blood of B-level or A-level monsters in the future. I don't know if this blood pump can be modified and upgraded to increase the explosion rate. Or, it can be upgraded properly. Advance to improve the effect of her good luck buff."
After collecting his thoughts, Kamiya thought about it for a while without thinking about it.
When the death prompt popped up, all the head balloons in the sky had dissipated.
There were a few pieces of yellowed paper, blown to pieces by the wind, falling downwards.
"What are those? The extra ones that exploded after the death of the boss?" Kamiyakawa stared at the sky, then turned his head sideways, "Hannya, pick those up."
The named purple and white undergarment quickly jumped into the air, chasing the flying papers.
After a while, all the yellowed papers in the air were picked up and handed to Kamiyagawa's hands.
[Get Itakura's essay autobiography (1)! ]
[Prop name: Itakura's Essay Autobiography (1)]
[Quality: No rating for special props]
[Effectiveness: 1. If you want to be the next director, you should probably fully understand the life of the previous director. 2. Showing the corresponding autobiography chapter to the ghost story mentioned in the autobiography may change the ghost story's attitude toward you. ]
[Explanation: Who the serious person writes an autobiography? An essay and autobiography by Ryozo Itakura, the former director of Nara Dreamland. There are four chapters in total. After gathering them all, what unexpected events will happen in Nara Dreamland? ]
"This thing...the autobiography of the former director? Is it related to the special task of [becoming the new director]?"
Kamiya held a few yellowed papers in his hands and read through the information provided on the phone.
After that, he simply arranged the papers in his hand to make his narrative coherent.
The above content is as follows——
My name is Itakura Ryozo, I was born in 1945 and have lived in Nara since I was a child.
My mother died in childbirth.
Because of this, as long as I can remember, I have felt that there is a tragic and indelible gap between me and my father.
My father was an alcoholic.
I heard from others that this was a bad habit he picked up after his mother passed away.
As I grew older, my father’s drinking problem got worse. He often beats and scolds me for no reason, and I can feel that he hates me.
Ah, actually I also admire it very much.
A normal father-son relationship.
The son grows up to be the father's pride and so on.
How wonderful.
After I entered junior high school, although I lived under the same roof with my father, we basically lived our own lives.
Besides working, my father would drink himself unconscious, so I had a lot of alone time.
Speaking of junior high school.
I remember that at that time, I would often see many feathers on the ground on the way home from school.
Crow feathers.
Where I live, there are quite a few crows.
They are noisy.
Occasionally on my way home,
. I picked up some beautiful-looking feathers and unknowingly developed a hobby of collecting feathers.
I put all the dark crow feathers I collected under the bed and take them out to play with when I have nothing to do.
Later I saw the crows flying across the sky and didn't think they were noisy. Just thinking about their fur and how soft their bodies must be.
I decided I had to catch a crow.
I got some ether from the school laboratory and used the medicine to make a bird trap with bait.
After several failures, I managed to catch a crow.
That was the first time in my life that I felt a sense of accomplishment.
At that time, the crow was lying quietly on my hand. I suddenly felt a sense of shock, my heart was beating loudly, and my blood was gushing.
What I hold in my hands is a life at my mercy.
I originally planned to release the crow once he recovered from the anesthesia.
But when it began to regain consciousness and struggle, I regretted it. Instead of letting go, I held it tighter.
I slowly pressed down on its throat with my fingers and squeezed until the feathers on its chest stopped shaking.
I don't know why I did it, but it felt amazing.
Later, I disposed of the body and left only one feather.
From that moment on, I had a new collecting hobby.
In 1963, I left school and started a small business. By that time, I had become adept at making more effective anesthetics using ether.
So I hunted for bigger game, first rabbits, then cats, then dogs and deer.
I have a talent for this.
It's no exaggeration to say that I'm a genius at this.
It's a pity that my father doesn't know these things and he can't be proud of me.
It was the spring of 1967, probably around this time, I don’t remember clearly.
In our town, a housewife named Tomoko Kaga disappeared.
At that time, the police searched the town but could not find her. The people in the town even organized people to help find Ms. Kaga.
I also participated and looked for it together with everyone.
Of course, it all ended in vain.
Ms. Kaga is really gone, she has evaporated. In the end, the town characterized her disappearance as a mysterious disappearance.
Haha, really interesting.
Shenyin hahahahahaha.
A few months after Kaga disappeared, my father found a wooden box in the basement of our home.
He opened the box.
Yes, how could he not open such a conspicuous and unfamiliar box?
In the box he saw feathers, animal paws, and a woman's finger with a wedding ring.
That was my collection and I showed them to my father.
I think he would be proud of me after seeing this.
Why scold me, hit me, and treat me like trash! ? why why why? (The handwriting of this sentence is distorted and has been obliterated with force)
Oh, right.
My father's fingers are really rough.
.
