"We live in the era of this world where technology runs rampant, tall building and cemented roads covered the areas the was once a lush of green grass and tall trees. But still, there are those "remnants" of the past that are still lurking beyond the darkness and corners of every lively cities, away from the reach of human beings."
[SHIBUYA STATION, TOKYO, JAPAN, 12 A.M.]
A little boy dressed as a musician sat on the bench at the station, playing his harp. A solemn yet elegant melody echoed throughout the station, but I felt a sensation I knew all too well—Death.
Out of nowhere, white smoke began to appear. People who touched it suddenly fell asleep. They panicked, probably having no idea what was happening. As for the boy, I knew he was a spirit, and the noise of the station had likely disturbed him.
I acted as if I didn't notice him, approached from behind, quickly drew my knife, and stabbed him in the neck. His body dissipated without a trace, leaving only the harp he had been playing. The people who had collapsed were likely cursed, so I had no choice but to destroy the harp causing it.
The harp was what we call a spirit manifestation. Spirits use these to manifest their powers in the physical world, and humans can see them once the spirits lose physical contact with them. Without their manifestations, spirits revert to being simple spectres, which are usually harmless. I just leave those alone. Spirit curses, the effects of using a manifestation's power, can be reversed if the manifestation is destroyed.
It's a shame to break it, though—I could've sold it for a high price. I run a small business, opening my shop every night wherever I want, selling the manifestations I collect. My customers include both spirits and humans. The price is something anyone can afford—even the homeless—because the cost is their very own life force.
I am an ancient spirit. I've existed since the creation of the world. Spirits aren't immortal, and I was supposed to have died a long time ago. But I discovered that by devouring the life force of living things, I could prolong my life. Of course, I've never killed anyone; that would turn me into a demon. Spirits who kill humans constantly eventually transform into evil spirits, and from there, into demons.
About 500 years ago, as my life neared its end, I decided to start this business. I hunted evil spirits and demons, took their manifestations, and sold them to humans and spectres.
I always tell my customers the price of the manifestations I sell. Some of them are such cowards they run as soon as they hear it. But there are others, especially humans, whose greed is truly remarkable—they'll even sell their souls for power.
But no business is perfect. I quickly realized that not every customer used the manifestations responsibly. Some humans abused their powers and hurt others. Some spirits used them to attack humans and other spirits. Of course, I killed them and took back what I'd sold. Even human customers—once they touched a manifestation, they were no longer considered human, so I could end their lives without risking becoming a demon. It's convenient because I can reclaim my products and absorb their life force for free.
I've devoured enough life force to create my own physical body. But I noticed fewer people come outside at night now. It's probably because of the rumors and legends about me—the so-called "shop of a reaper that appears in the night." I did a great job turning myself into folklore.
Over the years, science and technology have replaced old customs and traditions. People have mostly forgotten about me, dismissing me as nothing more than a scary story for children.
At least now I can have human customers again. Their life force is much more potent than that of spirits or spectres. Still, I've grown attached to humans, enough that I avoid dealing with most of them. I only appear to humans I consider "demons" and sell my products to them. If they do something stupid, I kill them.
To adapt to society, I've learned human skills like cleaning, laundry, and even entertainment like anime, manga, and games. Now, I even go to school. I look like a normal teenage boy, so it's not a problem.
I've also started accepting money for my products. In this era, I've realized how important it is. There are no forests in the cities where I can get free food anymore. I rented a small apartment near my school in Yokohama. I chose Tokyo because there are so many people here, so I'll never run out of potential customers. My apartment isn't big, but it's comfortable. It's on the top floor of a four-story building. From there, I get a beautiful view of Yokohama. My neighbors are kind, often bringing me food since I can't cook.
Yes, I'm enjoying my life now, masking myself as a human. But even for a second, I never forget my goal: to live as long as I can.
Why do I want to live? What is my purpose in life? What is my goal?
I live for a promise and my deepest desire—to wait for the rebirth of my "Queen." Until my mission is complete, I cannot die.