“Speak.”
These words were like salt on a wound.
That kind of shame that rises from the depths of the heart after being poked at something you’ve been pretending doesn’t exist.
Someone tried to mediate.
It was the office worker carrying a briefcase. He raised one hand, palm facing down, pressed slightly, moved his lips, and said in a conciliatory tone.
“Fine, fine, stop arguing. The train’s crowded, everyone’s having a hard time…”
Rinna completely ignored him.
Her gaze was fixed on that middle-aged man, like a hunter staring at its prey.
‘This guy is obviously a middle-aged man who hasn’t been doing well at work and has no presence in life. Getting publicly mocked by a high school girl in uniform… his malice value probably won’t be low.’
‘Those middle-aged office workers around, also worn down by life, seeing this will likely generate empathetic malice.’
‘This is a group of “fellow small fries.”‘
‘The system wants malice points, so she has to squeeze out every little bit of prickly discomfort from these people’s hearts.’
‘But there probably aren’t any train perverts here.’
She shook off that thought and then muttered to herself in a low voice.
The voice wasn’t loud, like she was talking to herself, but the volume was just right for the other party to hear clearly.
Her tone was lazy, like she didn’t want to continue but felt it would be a waste not to say it. The ending dropped, trailing into a careless period.
“No sense of proportion, no manners, and quick to take offense. Only a small fry like you would spend your whole life crammed in a crappy train like this.”
She purposefully stressed the word “small fry” more than usual.
The train car fell silent.
Everyone held their breath, a silence that pressed down from above.
The clattering sound of the train moving became suddenly clear. Each bump at the rail joints felt like a knock on the eardrums.
The office worker’s hand froze mid-air, forgetting to retract it.
The middle-aged woman clutched her shopping bag tighter; something inside rustled with the plastic bag friction.
The girl with light brown hair stared blankly at Rinna, her eyes a messy palette of emotions—surprise, gratitude, disbelief, and a kind of confusion from not knowing what to say after having someone stand up for her.
Her lips were slightly open, as if she wanted to say thank you, but felt it wasn’t appropriate in this situation.
The man’s face turned bright red.
The redness spread over his neck, his ears, his forehead.
A blue vein jumped on his temple, throbbing, the rhythm of his pulse visible.
His phone screen was still lit, clenched in his hand. His knuckles creaked against the phone case. The screen’s content kept getting mis-tapped due to the force, flipping pages back and forth.
He took a step forward, the sole of his shoe scraping an unpleasant squeak against the train floor. His arm slightly raised, as if he was about to pull it back to give this white-haired brat a lesson.
The veins on the back of his hand bulged, and his joints cracked with a click.
Then his eyes met Hisaki’s.
Hisaki didn’t say anything.
She just moved her gaze away from Rinna and fixed it on the man’s face.
Her eyes turned a deep black under the train’s harsh white light, her pupils like two pebbles frozen at the bottom of an ice layer, devoid of any warmth.
Her brows weren’t wrinkled, her lips weren’t pursed. There was no expression on her face that could be interpreted as “anger.”
She just looked at him.
Like looking at a bug.
That kind of gaze wasn’t a threat.
Threats still need to construct a future scenario with an “if,” still need to leave room for imagination and leeway for the other party.
Hisaki’s gaze didn’t need any of that.
Her gaze itself was the conclusion.
An external reaction. Something that had already happened. A fait accompli that she didn’t need to waste any more words to prove.
The man’s hand stopped in mid-air.
His palm was slightly open, fingers curled, like a motion hit pause.
His Adam’s apple rolled up and down, making a gurgling sound.
Then he lowered his hand.
Finger by finger, he loosened his grip. The phone slid back into his palm. The screen’s light flickered, illuminating a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.
He turned around reluctantly, moving slowly, as if using his full weight to resist some instinct that wanted him to flee.
His shoulders slumped, his back slightly hunched, his silhouette looking shorter than before.
***
After turning around, he raised his phone back in front of his face. The screen’s light again lit up his face, but his thumb didn’t swipe.
The screen stayed on one page, unchanging for a long, long time.
In the corner of the train car where Rinna was, silence reigned except for the sound of the train moving.
No one was playing on their phones anymore.
The office worker with the briefcase put his phone back in his pocket, moving carefully. The sound of the zipper closing seemed especially loud in the silence.
The middle-aged woman kept her head down, staring at her shopping bag, as if it held something precious that needed constant guarding.
The college student with earphones took both earbuds out. The cord hung down his chest, the white wire swaying gently with the train’s motion.
Everyone looked away, but not too obviously.
They could only stare at the reflections on the windows, the advertising boards overhead, the anti-slip patterns on the floor—anything that didn’t require eye contact with others.
Emotions. Rinna leaned against Hisaki’s embrace. Her heartbeat slowly calmed from the earlier excitement. She stole a glance at the system panel.
[Malice Points: 7 → 40]
A gain of 33 points.
‘Rinna was a little happy, probably because this time the surroundings were all adults. Adult malice is more… how should I put it? Purer?’
‘When students watched her “bully” Kikyo in the stairwell, their malice might have been mixed with curiosity, confusion, or other messy things.’
‘But adults facing a kid who publicly embarrasses them produce malice that’s much more direct and pure.’
‘Too bad there weren’t many “fellow small fries” in the car who were truly hit in their sore spot.’
‘Not enough.’
‘Still far from a hundred points.’
‘But at least it proved one thing.’
‘In this world, being a bad person is really a way to survive.’
‘She was even starting to understand the system’s logic a bit. It wasn’t about making her a true villain, but teaching her to accurately release that annoying “femdom tiny devil girl energy” at the right time, right place, and right person.’
‘Just like earlier.’
‘Not random bullying, but standing up for a girl who was being harassed and didn’t dare speak up.’
‘Only the way she stood up for her… was just a bit more punchable.’
Rinna let out a soft breath in Hisaki’s arms. The warmth passed through Hisaki’s shirt and landed on her collarbone.
Then she felt it.