Trapped on a Terrifying Island, This Good-for-Nothing Just Wants to Survive

“Hey, Kurayama! Get me a pack of cigarettes,” instructed Inspector Matsuo Yasuhito, who then leisurely returned to his rocking chair, sipping coffee and watching TV.

Kurayama Junichi rolled his eyes in annoyance. He had never liked this sloppy middle-aged man who always shoved the dirty and tiring work onto his juniors while handling his personal chores, lounging in the police station, drinking tea, reading newspapers, smoking, and playing cards.

No wonder he had been just an inspector for so many years. If he had real skills or responsibility, he would have been promoted long ago.

Thinking this, Kurayama felt somewhat relieved. He put on his police cap and leisurely cycled to the store in town.

In late August, the average high temperature in Yejima rarely exceeded 23°C. Bathed in warm sunlight and riding against the cool breeze, Kurayama whistled cheerfully.

Going out for errands wasn’t so bad after all, much better than staying in the lifeless police station.

After all, the Chirakushi Town Police Station was just for show, only requiring routine procedures and a bit of front. It was more like a “koban” or “residential police box” than a real police station.

[Note: A koban is the smallest organizational unit in the Japanese police, directly under local police stations. It usually covers a small area, a street or a few streets in cities, and a village or several villages in rural areas. A koban typically has only a few police officers and doesn’t have specialized facilities like detention or interrogation rooms. Some use rooms for temporary detention.

A residential police box is an administrative facility established by the Japanese government for police and fire personnel working in remote or special areas, sometimes with attached living quarters. – Wikipedia]

Any major incident would be intercepted by higher authorities and handled by the Public Security Police, Japan Coast Guard, Maritime Self-Defense Force, or stationed U.S. forces on the island, not their small patrol officers.

Ah, never mind that for now. He had woken up late today and hadn’t had breakfast, so he planned to drop by Tendo Pavilion for a meal. That guy wouldn’t die from not smoking for a while, who cares.

This week was Russian Week, but he was already tired of Russian cuisine. Indeed, a Chinese breakfast suited his taste better: dumplings, ramen, fried rice… Heh, Kurayama thought cheerfully.

Life on the island was dull, only good food could soothe the soul. After serving five years, he could leave this godforsaken place.

2.

On September 1st, Kurayama thought it would be another mundane day, but surprisingly, the usually unkempt Matsuo was tidying up his attire and kept urging him to prepare the car.

Confused, Kurayama asked, “Where are we going, senior?”

“Trouble in North Yaba.” Matsuo’s response was crisp, a departure from his usual laid-back demeanor.

“The domain of the Kambe family? Isn’t that off-limits to the station?”

Matsuo paused, then impatiently waved his hand, “Why so many questions? There’s a crowd gathered there. It’d look bad if the station didn’t show up. It’s an order from above, so hurry up and stop talking.”

Oh, I see, just for show.

Kurayama sensed something odd about the inspector’s reaction but didn’t press further. He drove Matsuo and two colleagues to the forbidden land they had never set foot in.

A large crowd had gathered outside Chirakushi Town. They seemed very angry, some throwing stones and eggs at the gate, others waving torches and flags with orioles and xiezhi.

“Hey, hey, hey, make way, don’t obstruct official duties! Move, or we’ll take action! 3—2—1—!”

Seeing no one complying, Matsuo put down the megaphone and fired a warning shot into the air.

The crowd dispersed in an uproar.

Only a dirt-covered person remained on the ground, gasping for breath, with blood-stained and torn clothes.

Kurayama approached and recognized him as a teenager, about sixteen or seventeen years old, but lacking the vitality of his age.

The boy had disheveled hair, a pale face, dark circles under his eyes, blood at the corner of his mouth, and bruises all over his body.

More horrifyingly, all his fingernails had been torn off, dripping with blood.

Kurayama inhaled sharply. He tried to help the boy up, but the latter resisted fiercely.

“No… don’t lift me up… I don’t know if I have dislocations or fractures…”

Kurayama felt helpless. Usually, he only dealt with routine tasks like guard duty, patrolling, census surveys, lost and found, and policy promotion. Even frequent missing cases

weren’t his concern. Today was his first time facing such a severe incident.

“Hey, don’t meddle, the ambulance is almost here!” Matsuo shouted, “Our job is to set up the perimeter and maintain order.”

However, Kurayama just stood there, fixated on the medical staff carrying the injured boy away. Matsuo’s urging and scolding blended into the noisy protests.

He felt the boy looked familiar and tried to recall where they had met.

Ah, that’s right! The kid suspected his father was missing and came to report it, only to find no response from the police on and off the island. He angrily questioned them about it.

Matsuo had ordered Kurayama to escort the boy out. Kurayama, feeling sympathetic, told him about the information blockade on Yejima. It was an open secret anyway.

Later, the boy came to report a friend’s disappearance and was again turned away by Matsuo.

It was that stubborn kid, no doubt about it.

But what happened to him today?

3.

Out of curiosity, Kurayama changed into casual clothes after work and decided to visit the central hospital to find out more.

“Kurayama, it’s getting late, where are you going?” Matsuo, putting down the newspaper, eyed him warily.

Kurayama, caught off guard, stammered, “Uh… Ah! I’ve been cooped up on the island for too long, need some fun!”

“Yeah, don’t overindulge, or you won’t be able to get up tomorrow~” Matsuo raised an eyebrow and leisurely took a drag from his cigarette.

Since when did this guy become so nosy? Kurayama frowned but didn’t dwell on it.

Using an investigation as an excuse, he got the boy’s hospital room number from the front desk. As he reached the destination, he saw a tall, short-haired girl enter the room before him.

Kurayama immediately halted and hid, pondering:

That girl, I know her. She also came to report her brother’s disappearance and was sent away by Matsuo. Damn, Matsuo is such a bastard!

As he was inwardly cursing his superior, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Startled, Kurayama turned around—damn it, it was Matsuo himself!