Yes, good work.

Immediately, I was surprised by the voice I heard in my ear.

A familiar view, a calming smell, and a careless body.

Nothing happened.

It was in the bedroom at home, on the bed that I used to sleep in every day.

"... hah. It was a nightmare to choke to death in Concrete."

"Oh, no, it's not a dream."

The only difference is that a strange girl in her midteens is sitting on a flat-screen TV.

It's a lot clever.

It seems like my buttocks hurt a little.

"You're dead. I choked on concrete."

"Ah, after all?

Normally, you'd be in a hurry.

However, I was able to recognize this situation as “that kind of thing.”

I mean, I'm dead.

And yet I can only think that something beyond my imagination is happening when I can think and decide whether this is a dream or a reality.

Then it's useless to think about it.

I can't help thinking about things I don't know.

Calm down.

"It's a little different. I'm stopping thinking because I don't know what you're thinking."

"I think I'm seeing something to see for that."

That's how I narrow my red eyes.

They were seeing through.

Outside the window, book back cover, wooden wooden flooring.

None of them are memorable in detail, and they represent objects that are obscured in dreams.

I don't think this is a dream... as long as all of them are clearly visible.

I'm not very confident.

"Now, what do we start with?"

The girl jumps off the TV and lands silently.

Long, dark hair stretching to the waist spreads softly, placing it on the beat and smoothing it out.

Even so, it's as black as a crow's feather.

Then tell me about you.

"Me?

"Yes, I know it's not the right age. It's an adult with a little work and a mature expression. It's too far from what it looks like, and it even looks creepy."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, this is kind of a business. It's an occupational disease."

There is also a strange tone in the dull expression.

I felt strange because of the imbalance between the appearance of the fuzzy face.

"So, who the hell are you?

"I... well, please call me Marie."

Even though it looks pure Japanese-style, is its name French?

You don't have to be so imbalanced.

"Marie-chan, I see. So what kind of god is Marie-chan?

"I am destined... hah. In that case, even if you die, it won't heal."

Marie-chan sighs amazingly.

I'll take it as a compliment.

"That's enough, let's talk about you."

"Mine?

"Yes, first of all, because I brought you here."

Marie-chan took a file out of the TV drawer and put it on the table.

I know what it is, or I made it.

"This is the list of people you've ducked."

"Yeah."

"You stole money from the people on this list."

"Yes, that's why you called me here to punish me?

"No, the other way around."

Marie-chan faintly smiled and sat next to me. [M]