Future Diary Survival Game

Chapter 65: Hostage Situation – 4

I felt my heart pounding violently.

No—calm down. Don’t get too excited.

This plan still needed verification.

After taking a few deep breaths, I spoke to the Diary Book.

‘Hey, Diary Book. If I tear out one of your pages, I can show it to others, right?’

[Yes. It hurts, so I don’t recommend it though.]

‘It’s fine. I’m not the one who’ll be hurting.’

[…]

‘If I tear out a page and show it to someone, it disappears once I retrieve it, right?’

[Yes.]

That part I already knew.

During the First-Come Quest, when the map I made by tearing out a page touched the Diary Book again, it vanished.

‘Does it have to physically touch your body to disappear? Can’t you retrieve it from afar?’

[That’s possible. I don’t know why you’re asking, though.]

‘One more thing. If I tear out one of the documents shown through “Peeping,” can others see it too?’

[They can. Though again, I don’t recommend it—it hurts.]

The Diary Book seemed to repeat itself anxiously.

Sorry, but this couldn’t be helped right now.

Still… why did it even hurt in the first place?

‘Do I have to be the one to tear it out?’

[What?]

‘Can’t you tear out the page I designate yourself?’

[That’s possible, but… it feels kind of like self-harm.]

‘Please. Just one page—the commentary on Imperial history written by Her Highness the Princess as a class assignment. Tear that one out and show it to me.’

The Diary Book sighed.

Soon, a piece of paper crinkled into my hand.

I secretly read the page without letting the others notice.

‘Just as I thought.’

When I’d seen it through the Diary Book, I wasn’t completely sure—but now that I was holding the paper myself, it was certain.

It was unmistakably Armelia’s handwriting.

That slightly old-fashioned yet neat handwriting of hers—exactly as I remembered.

The page in my hand was none other than the actual assignment Armelia had written when she was young.

[But… why?]

‘I need your help.’

[I’ve got a bad feeling about this.]

‘It’s fine. It’s not as big as it sounds.’

I explained my plan to the Diary Book.

After hearing it, the Diary Book practically shouted in horror.

[If we do that, I might die!]

‘Don’t worry. People don’t die that easily.’

[I’m not a person, though.]

‘Then you’ll be even safer. I do feel bad, but no matter how I think about it, there’s no other way to get through this crisis.’

[Haah…]

Though clearly reluctant, the Diary Book finally agreed.

Really, what a reliable ally.

With that side taken care of… what was left—

I grabbed a blank page of the Diary Book.

‘Tearing it out?’

[…]

‘I said, I’m tearing it out.’

[I couldn’t answer because I was clenching my teeth! Aaaagh!!]

When I tore the page out, only a blank sheet of paper remained in my hand.

I began writing on it swiftly, without hesitation.

Soon, everyone noticed my actions and turned their eyes toward me.

“Mason, what are you doing?”

“Writing a letter.”

“Huh?”

“We got a letter from Edgar, didn’t we? Naturally, we should write back.”

“What… Did I hear you right?”

“Just wait. If this works, we might be able to save Cecil safely.”

Everyone gasped sharply.

I finished writing and folded the letter.

Then, I called out to Magireta.

“Noona.”

“Yes, little brother.”

As always, Magireta appeared as if she’d been standing there all along.

I waved the freshly written letter toward her.

“Could you please deliver this to Edgar?”

“Well, I did deliver his letter for free, so I suppose it’s only fair. But are you sure about this?”

“About what?”

“You yelled at me, saying things like, ‘Aren’t you ashamed to use divine power for such things?’ and ‘You might as well die if you’re going to act like that,’ remember?”

I didn’t think I’d said anything that harsh, but…

I shrugged.

“People tend to keep their mouths shut when things start going in their favor.”

“You’ve grown twisted. Are you going for the bad guy concept lately?”

“Anyway, I’ll leave the delivery to you.”

“Can I read it first?”

“Of course.”

“Heh. Fine by me.”

Magireta took my letter.

And just as she was about to vanish, I hurriedly stopped her.

“Oh, right. There’s something I’m curious about.”

“Speak.”

“There’s a coachman outside. I’m worried that, during our conversation, something about the Quest might accidentally reach his ears. Even though Sir Berseum blocks sound with magic…”

I glanced meaningfully toward Berseum before continuing.

“He’s getting old, so he probably can’t maintain that spell twenty-four hours a day.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m wondering… if the coachman did happen to overhear something about the Quest by mistake, would the one who spoke be killed?”

“Of course. That’s what I told you from the start.”

“My question is… would the coachman who heard it also die? It wouldn’t be his fault at all.”

Magireta fell silent.

Crossing her arms, she tapped one with her index finger.

“Heh. Who knows?”

“…?”

“You’re plotting something again, aren’t you? I can tell. But I’ve no idea what or how. That’s what I love about you—you’re unpredictable.”

“Thank you.”

She continued lazily.

“Anyway, to answer you—the coachman won’t die. I’m not the type to kill innocent people carelessly.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I’ll just erase his memory of whatever he heard. It won’t affect his daily life, so don’t worry.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

“You’re trying to give Edgar a taste of his own medicine, huh? Go for it.”

“Oh, and please tell him to send a reply to my reply. Though honestly, he probably won’t be able to resist doing that anyway.”

Magireta mouthed something like ‘I’m dying to know’, then nodded and disappeared.

Immediately after, the others gathered around me in a rush.

Even though they could’ve just spoken from where they were sitting.

“Mason, what are you thinking? Writing to Edgar, of all people?”

“It’s not yet time to go into details. I just laid a small trap—I don’t know if he’ll take the bait.”

“Hmm. Then at least tell us what you wrote.”

“Haha. It’s just trivial, meaningless chatter.”

Berseum frowned.

“Then your letter serves no purpose, does it?”

“Exactly. It’s meaningless.”

“The more you say, the less I understand.”

“This particular letter isn’t what matters. What’s important is opening the line of communication through correspondence. My first goal was to make sure he couldn’t not send a reply.”

Even then, everyone still looked confused.

I moved to the front seat instead of explaining.

Then I opened the window and called out to the coachman.

“Sir!”

“Yes, sir. The capital’s still a long way off!”

“No, not that. This might sound sudden, but… do you happen to know how to read?”

It was indeed a random question.

But surprisingly, the coachman answered proudly.

“Of course! In this line of work, we sign contracts for scheduled transport and rides, you see. I got scammed so many times that I swore I’d learn to read.”

“I see.”

“Since you mentioned it, when I was younger, I used to be the talk of the village—”

The coachman continued bragging for a good ten minutes.

I pretended to listen politely, but in truth, I let his words go in one ear and out the other.

Instead, I thought to myself,

‘All the conditions are set.’

Conditions to crush Edgar.

Sip.

Edgar took a sip of the coffee that Bain had brought him.

He was now gazing out the window, bathed in warm sunlight.

He was still staying in the same inn room he had rented a few days ago.

The only difference now was that a room meant for two was being used by three.

“Mmph.”

Cecil was gagged and lying face-down on the floor.

Bain looked down at her with slight pity.

“Shouldn’t we put her on the bed?”

“Then where am I supposed to sleep?”

“You’re not sleeping right now.”

“I’ll have to get up later. It’s a hassle.”

Edgar took another sip of coffee and continued.

“You really are kind, aren’t you? I’d heard the heir of the Noel Family was such a gentle soul.”

“…So you knew all along.”

“I know one more thing. Among Mason’s group, who should be speeding toward the capital by now, is your younger sister.”

At that, Bain—or rather, Benjamin—snapped his eyes wide open.

Grabbing Edgar by the shoulder as if demanding an answer, he spoke.

“My sister? You mean Aina?”

“Correct. And please, let go of me.”

“S-she’s a participant in the Quest too? How can that be?”

“I understand how you feel, but calm down. I may dislike Mason, but he’s very capable. With him, your sister will remain safe.”

Benjamin’s expression wavered.

She’ll be safe with Mason.

But wasn’t this man trying to kill Mason?

Was it right to stay by his side any longer?

Shouldn’t he switch over and protect his sister himself?

“You can’t.”

“…What do you mean?”

“That thought you just had—you can’t. You’ll continue to stay with me. Someone like you is hard to come by.”

Benjamin felt as if that was exactly what he should do.

Again.

Whenever this man spoke, he felt compelled to obey.

Though he couldn’t explain why.

“You’re using that too often, aren’t you?”

A voice rang out—someone who hadn’t been in the room.

It was Magireta.

Edgar smiled faintly and asked,

“What do you mean?”

“Your talent. You’re overusing it. It’s getting ugly.”

“To me, it’s just part of everyday life. Saying I’m overusing it is like saying someone’s overusing breathing.”

“Then why didn’t you use that ‘breathing’ on Mason’s group? You could’ve made them your allies when you met last time.”

“That’s one of the strangest parts. It didn’t work.”

Clink.

Edgar set down his teacup.

A crease formed between his brows.

‘I can’t figure it out. What trick did he use?’

But his thoughts were cut short when Magireta handed him a fluttering letter.

“This is?”

“Mason asked me to deliver his reply.”

“A reply… I didn’t expect that.”

“He told me to make sure you write one back, too. Though he said once you read it, you’d probably do it anyway.”

At that, Edgar felt a childish stubbornness flare up.

He didn’t have to reply.

But he was curious about the contents.

He opened the letter and began reading slowly.

<Edgar Tyler.

I received your letter.

Honestly, it was a good move—using the First-Place Reward from the future to block our teleportation beads.

But though you’re clever with tricks, you lack the eye to see the bigger picture.

Even if you kill Cecil, that won’t mean victory for you.

Because we’ll come to hate you.

And I wonder how long you can survive under the hatred of all of us.>

At that point, Edgar let out a small scoff.

But the next lines froze his smile.

<By the way… you do know that I can see the future, right?

You must’ve heard from Magireta, or maybe you figured it out yourself.

If you didn’t, now you know—I see the future.

And since you’ve been getting cocky, I got curious about what your future looks like.

So I took a peek.

Heh. You meet quite an amusing end.

You once said you were deeply addicted to Magireta’s game, didn’t you?

Then don’t you want to know—how many more rounds you’ll get to play?>

Tremble.

That struck Edgar’s sorest nerve.

‘How many more rounds…? You mean I can’t enjoy this game forever?’

No. Calm down.

There’s no guarantee Mason wrote the truth in this letter.

It could all be a lie—his claim of seeing the future, especially.

But the next lines shattered his calm.

<Surprisingly, not many.

Or… maybe, depending on how you look at it, quite a few.

Should I tell you exactly how many are left?>

Edgar’s lips twitched.

<I could tell you… but not for free.

Release Miss Cecil.

Ask Magireta to send her back to us.

Then I’ll write back and tell you how many rounds of life you have left.

I know it won’t be an easy decision.

I’ll wait. This update ıs available on ɴovelfire.net

But remember this—

If you don’t release Cecil before we arrive at the capital, you’ll never hear my answer. Ever.

Oh, and no matter what you decide, make sure to send a reply.

If you don’t, you’ll never hear my answer either way.>