Mash-up Anime World: Creating the SCP Foundation to Contain Anomalies-Chapter 335 - 329: Takatsuki Izumi

After chatting for a while, the alcohol started kicking in, and Ichiji Seika dozed off in a daze.

This time, it was obvious—she was genuinely drunk.

Not only was she clinging to Haruto and refusing to let go, but she was also mumbling some incomprehensible words in her sleep.

There were even signs she might suddenly pounce on him. It took Haruto quite a bit of effort to finally get the landlady settled down.

Once she was taken care of, Haruto couldn't help but let out a long sigh.

He knew it—blonde, tsundere, older women... that kind of character combination was bound to be terrible at holding their liquor.

Haruto rubbed the side of his neck. There was a small bite mark there. Why did the landlady even bite him?

Leaving the room, Haruto was met with a scene of even greater chaos outside.

Bocchi was being hugged from both sides by Ichiji Nijika and Kita. They were rolling around on the tatami floor, and the scene looked very criminal. Yamada Ryo, on the other hand, had passed out peacefully in the corner.

As expected of her.

But even just those two were enough to throw Bocchi into complete disarray.

When Bocchi saw Haruto come out, her eyes lit up as if she'd seen her savior. However, after Haruto took one look at the condition of the two girls...

"Bocchi, I'll leave the rest to you. I believe in you. Good luck!"

With that bit of encouragement, Haruto prepared to run for it.

Bocchi: QAQ!

Now Bocchi was really screwed.

Just as Haruto slipped out of the venue hall, he stuck his head back in again. The light of hope reignited in Bocchi's eyes.

She just knew that Senpai Haruto wouldn't abandon her like that.

But—

"Bocchi, one piece of advice: if any of them want to go to the restroom... You must personally take them there. Don't let them go by themselves. Otherwise, the place they find might not actually be a restroom. Consider this veteran advice—burn it into your memory!"

With that, Haruto fled without looking back, leaving Bocchi alone in the desolate wind, gradually numbing over.

After fleeing, Haruto made his way back to the apartment under the cover of night.

The streets of Japan at night were rather deserted.

Walking the streets in the dead of night, one couldn't help but quicken their pace. Still, being able to reach this level was already quite an achievement.

Passing by the Eijisha publishing office, Haruto came to a stop.

Not because he saw an editor coming at him with a metaphorical knife to collect a manuscript. But because, at the entrance of the publishing office, a girl was squatting down, holding a manuscript in her arms.

The girl hugged her knees, cradling the manuscript in her arms, her head buried in her lap.

In the dim light of night, she looked as pitiful as one could imagine.

Haruto paused, hesitant.

While he wasn't a cold-hearted person, he wasn't exactly in the habit of picking up girls off the street and bringing them back to his apartment either.

(T/N: Bullshit.) free𝑤ebnovel.com

But at the moment Haruto stopped to look—

The girl raised her head.

Purely judging by appearance, she was a very attractive young girl, with thick, fluffy dark green hair.

A sweet face and petite figure—if not for her worn and slightly tattered clothes, she could have easily passed as a princess from high society.

It was hard to imagine she'd end up on the street.

And even harder to associate her with the typical image of a novelist hunched over under lamplight, diligently writing.

After a brief moment of eye contact, Haruto walked toward the girl.

"Are you here to submit a manuscript?"

Haruto crouched down beside her and asked.

The girl nodded, pulling out the manuscript from her arms.

"May I take a look?"

Haruto asked again.

The girl nodded once more.

Haruto took the manuscript and started reading. It was a novel titled The Black Goat's Egg. It told the story of a child born from a deranged serial killer, growing up in ignorance.

Battered by the harsh waves of reality, the child slowly began to harbor murderous impulses, constantly struggling between his desire for violence and the self he wished to be.

Just from the premise alone, it was clear this wasn't an easy story to write.

The writing would have to be vivid and powerful to evoke genuine emotion. Otherwise, it would just be pain on paper, unable to truly move anyone.

And if it failed to do that, the novel would lose all meaning.

However, in the carefully handwritten words—

The writing was so vivid, so realistic, that it almost pulled the reader into its world.

Like reading between the lines and finding the word cannibalism written all over the pages.

That's the kind of feeling it gave.

It wasn't simply despair—it was a struggle and reflection within that despair.

Time passed quietly.

The girl didn't interrupt Haruto, nor did she try to gauge his reaction. She just sat there hugging her knees, silently waiting. When he finished reading, Haruto slowly closed the manuscript.

After taking a deep breath, he looked back at the girl and asked in a low voice,

"How old are you?"

For the first time, the girl didn't answer immediately—she seemed to be thinking.

Clearly, she didn't quite remember her age.

She counted on her fingers for a while, then finally answered.

"Thirteen."

Haruto sighed at her reply and gently ruffled her fluffy green hair.

Thirteen years old...

Why does the world always like to force such young girls to shoulder burdens far beyond what they should?

Haruto felt a pang of melancholy.

When he met Annie, she had been about the same age. Even back then, Annie's struggles had made Haruto's heart ache.

But this girl's situation seemed even worse.

While a story doesn't necessarily reflect a person's character, the tone of the writing can reflect the author's inner world.

A work often mirrors some of the author's beliefs.

Through the lines of this manuscript, Haruto could feel immense internal struggle.

More importantly—Haruto knew this girl.

In fact, they were quite connected in a strange way.

After all... Haruto had stolen her pen name.

Takatsuki Izumi.

"What's your name? I know a few editors in this company, I can introduce you. You came to submit your manuscript, right? Were you turned away? Which idiot rejected you? I'll go knock some sense into them."

The girl looked blank for a moment upon hearing that. Until now, she had only ever encountered three types of people.

Those who ignored her.

Those who lusted after her.

Those who hated her to the core.

Someone who neither had desire nor malice in their eyes, who spoke to her kindly—this was likely the first time.

"...I don't have a name."

She spoke hesitantly.

She knew well that people would think she was weird for saying something like that.

Everyone had a name, usually given at birth by their parents.

Not having one naturally drew strange looks from others.

But still, she answered that way.

That name.

That name "Yoshimura Eto"... she absolutely didn't want to use it.

"No name, huh... that's fine. My pen name is Takatsuki Izumi, but my real name is Haruto. I've got two names, so I can give you one. If you'd like, from now on, you can use the name 'Takatsuki Izumi.'"

Haruto said this a little guiltily.

That pen name was originally hers, and now he was shamelessly offering it to her. It felt a little scummy, honestly.

The girl stared at Haruto blankly for a while.

In her short life, if she had any special talent—

She believed it wasn't her ability to kill, but her ability to sense people's emotions.

And she could sense Haruto's guilt.

But for the first time, she couldn't understand why someone would feel guilty toward her.

Why would he feel guilt?

It didn't make any sense.

But still—

"...Okay!"

From now on, her name would be Takatsuki Izumi. She had been given a new name.