Isekai Ryouridou

When I realized I was in a strange forest.

In a strange forest, he slept and fell asleep in large letters.

"Is that...?

Wake up half a body and look around with a tweeze.

Forest.

Stranger forest, in the middle of nowhere.

No, I was born and raised in the middle of downtown in the first place, and there's no such thing as a "woodland I found out about". Prior to that, it presented the scenery of the Amazon's dense forests, which were unlikely to be in Japan.

Big tree screwed into a strange shape.

Huge cida leaves.

Toxic primary colored flowers.

Unfamiliar bird chirping.

There are thick, overlapping branches over the head that do not make it easy to see the color of the sky, etc.

Where the hell is this place?

Half buried in the grass of the blue underworld, I turn back on myself.

White cooking outfit, white front, white shoes, white outfit.

Black logo name for 'Sagittarius' on chest.

I even wrapped a white towel around my head, dressed as usual.

How could this me fall asleep in a place like this, dressed like this?

I grazed the spot and tried to remember before I lost consciousness anyway.

Then - something touched my hand on the clap that moved my body.

Hard, smooth, processed woodworking feel.

When I pulled that guy buried in the grass of his descendants - it was a single sandwich knife, tucked away in the white sheath of Park.

Used, sandalwood pattern.

Blade crossing, 21 cm.

I don't even have to pull it out of the white sheath. It was a delicious santoku knife from Sakaya, an established blade shop in Kyoto that my father cherished more than his life.

And.

The moment I saw it.

I was remembering everything.

◇

My name is Tsutsumi Mitsujita.

In the Tsugaru Strait, stay and see. Tomorrow I'll be fat, and I'll say "snuggly."

Seventeen years old, a sophomore attending public high school. He is 170 cm tall and weighs 58 kg and is not sticky and fat.

I was not born Tsugaru, I am Chiba of Kanto.

The house runs a popular cafeteria store called "The Stuff Store," and, well, it's thriving. No, it was thriving, until a month ago, when those guys came.

It seems that the building next to the store will be renovated as a composite amusement, and the new owner and the others have asked me to "sell the premises of the store".

As for pre-construction, "because I want to build a parking lot"

To be honest, "we plan to install food courts in the park, because attracting visitors is likely to be affected by the popular mass canteen next door, etc."

Of course, as for this one, I politely refused because I don't have the muscle to accept such unilateral demands. I was so bad with them.

The owner and the owner of the new building were apparently Suzi people.

Apparently, the building was also robbed from its previous owner by abominable means.

That's why shady harassment began, just as the renovation of the building began at the same time.

It is classic harassment where graffiti such as "contaminated" is written on the store shutter, silent phone rings, cat carcasses are thrown away at the end of the house… etc.

Was the only thing in the world like the spread of a root and leafless scandal like "I hear that store has been food poisoned many times" because it is an online review site?

Of course, the old-fashioned customers didn't even put such events on their teeth, and they were passing at the same pace.

but the number of seemingly customers and back-to-school college students has diminished, and that also clearly appeared in the sales figures.

I had a bite to say what Internet penetration and influence was like.

Still, my father was laughing.

"It's a total loss of my life to believe in such demarcation and not be able to eat my food," he said.

I stopped laughing, just now.

As far as I'm concerned, a few hours ago.

My father, who had left me to buy ingredients at the end of the evening, was hit by a light truck and taken over by an emergency hospital.

In response to an emergency call from the hospital, I rushed to the hospital room dressed in cooking clothes.

On the bed, and still my father was laughing luxuriously.

I was laughing, but I had complicated broken both legs.

There is a bandage wrapped around my arm and head, and there is red blood everywhere.

Anything, he said, was dialed directly from the front by a light truck that had advanced at about 80 kilometers an hour.

"It's a miracle you're alive," said the doctor in charge, looking frightened.

Light trucks, keep going.

He said there were numerous witnesses, but the license plate had been removed from the body of the vehicle, and the driver hid the face with a knitted hat and sunglasses.

Completely unmistakable, a planned offense.

Still, my father is laughing.

Well, to stop this father's breath root, it means he can't have it even in a dump car.

Below is a conversation between my father and the doctor in charge.

"So when will the discharge be?

"No, you know, rather than being discharged, I'm going to do an EEG, and then I'm going to do both leg surgery..."

"Yeah. So, when's the discharge?

"At this stage, I don't know how many months it will take to rehab because it's still a complicated fracture in both legs..."

"Ha. I'll leave that to my teacher, but I have a store, too. I don't care if it's a wheelchair or anything, so keep him out of the hospital. If you leave me like this, my shop will crumble."

Of course, that tangerine tree is about me.

Well, if I were this father, I would be in a wheelchair, but crutches, but I would keep getting my knife excited until I died. That kind of made me laugh to myself.

There - Lina, a childhood trainer, called.

"The store is burning 'sagittarius'!".

When I told him that, for the first time, the laughter disappeared from my father's face.

"Tomorrow too! It's a knife! You can't just burn that!

I jumped right out of the hospital room, and I was more desperate to follow my way back than I was on my way out.

My father cares more than life, the "Sakaya" santoku knife.

Any place, any ingredient, any tool, it's the real cook who can satisfy our guests! A delicacy forged by the predecessors of Sakaya, who gave him a grunting father and said, "But I can't let this guy go."

That's all - no.

No matter what kind of harassment I was subjected to, the truck hit me, my legs snapped, the shop burned, I never wobbled, my father's heart - if I lost the sandwich of "Sakaya," maybe that would smash me to pieces of wood dust.

So I ran desperately.

There were dozens of wild horses in front of the store, and fire extinguishing activities by fire trucks had already begun.

But the "sagittarius" was still in flames, spraying black smoke into the June sky.

No matter how much water you sprinkle, you won't be able to cook it all.

It was about as burning as that.

It was like a nightmare, burning.

"Tomorrow..."

Lina, who stood still, noticed me and picked me up with a crying face.

I grabbed that sneaky shoulder, nodded one back, and then - in the flames, I jumped.