Parallel World Pharmacy
Idiot Diary of Scarlett Harris: The Dead Speak
Cover page
Diary of Scarlet Harris.
Perhaps I will not be in this world when this diary leaves my hand.
So if you find this diary, if you're kind, and you fully understand the language in this notebook,
I want you to deliver it to the next place.
To Joshua Harris.
XXXXX, Winterville, Arkansas.
Even if I am called to heaven, I pray to the Lord that this record may not die.
Medium Cover
July 21, 1926
My name is Scarlet Harris.
Born on April 3, 1902.
Lives at XXXXX, Winterville, Arkansas.
Fifth year of elementary school teacher.
More than a hundred dikes on the Mississippi River were destroyed by intermittent heavy rainfall from a week ago.
The entire area near my home was flooded and extensively submerged.
I don't know how much downstream the paddle of the kayak that was taken out for evacuation was lost in the torrent.
The turbidity subsided, and it was two days since we went up to the riverbank.
Strangely enough, there are no private houses around here.
There are no fields, no bridges, and no towns, all of which have native forests.
I've been down the riverbank for the last two days, but I haven't encountered anyone.
I was probably in distress.
He writes in his distress diary, praying for relief from the state.
From confirmation of physical condition.
I didn't notice it when I was in distress, but there was a terrible burn on my right arm that I didn't remember.
There is no pain or bleeding.
The medical kit contains antiseptics, ointments, and bandages to complete the first aid.
Confirm your belongings.
A very large carry-away bag packed in a practice kayak and taken out of the house in a hurry.
I sigh. This is all I have.
All that's left is a further notebook with a calendar that I'm keeping in my diary right now.
It looks like there are two hundred and fifty-six pages left.
Security submachine guns and bullets pressed against my father a week ago.
Instructions for doing so.
Shooting prowess? You may be able to intimidate wildlife and thugs when you encounter them, even if you don't hit them, as much as you like in your hobby.Be careful not to encounter suspicious people, as there is no actual combat experience.
You have to watch out for alligators.
Encounters with alligators living in the Mississippi River are routine and occur in every lake and marsh.
Of course, it is scary to encounter them, but unlike the crocodiles that live in the Nile basin, known as cannibals, the alligator crocodiles are relatively quiet and timid in nature.
If you don't deliberately attack during the breeding season, you won't be attacked in the first place, and you are subject to hunting.
It's scarier than an alligator, like a swamp beetle or an otter.
As a resident of the Mississippi River Basin, it is a close-knit threat that I will learn first, and it is also a matter that I will teach my primary school students.
Derailed. The point is not to shoot for nothing in the event of a prolonged distress.
Three nuts, chocolate and canned goods.
There were four, but I ate one.
I have three clothes to change.
Sleeping bag.
Cash.
Pocket watch.
Compasses and maps.
Ore Radio.
Match.
Knife.
What's in the First Aid Kit.
Surgical plaster.
Alcohol.
Skimmed cotton.
What to do for small ailments and real emergencies, which was attached to the first aid kit
Thanks to the continuous rain, there is no shortage of drinking water.
Leave it in the container for when you get off.
If the rescue doesn't arrive, we'll survive for a week.
From here onwards, the unknown world flashes.
Looks like Tom Sawyer's adventure.
There's nothing to be afraid of.
Enjoy an outdoor camping in between.
Tomorrow, the plane will find me.
All you have to do is watch out for pests and go camping.
Let's take it easy.
However, the question that remains is whether my family and students were able to evacuate successfully.
July 25, 1926
I got the food I had.
They roast marsh crayfish over direct fire, grilling and eating shellfish.
Nevertheless, this crayfish is not an American crayfish that I often deal with in science classes, and it's a species I don't know.
Now that we're alive, let's announce the information to the newspaper as a new species when the rescue comes.
I was aiming for a duck, but my shooting skills weren't so bad.
The search party was expecting a boat, so it barely moved from the riverbank.
Alligators come out, so it's hard to sleep on the riverbank.
Lord, is this some kind of punishment?
Take a bandage for the burn on your arm.
July 28, 1926
The ore radio hasn't picked up anything since the shipwreck.
I wonder if it's broken, but it's a simple structure.
I tried to fix it, but I haven't received it yet.
Or maybe the broadcasters have been flooded too.
The wound on my arm turned into a big keloid.
I don't really want to think about it.
Before the disaster, the plane that was flying so close to the ground had not flown a single plane since the disaster.
Even in the distant mountains, no private houses can be seen on the mountainside.
Is that possible?
July 30, 1926
Around noon, when I was aiming at the duck, somebody came to hear the gunshot.
The joy and hope that I have encountered in a few days is blown away.
All of them, with bows and spears, are about to be fired upon.
I hide my submachine gun and say hello friendly, but I don't speak English.
They seem to have their own language.
Strange clothes, unable to identify race or culture.
Native Americans don't look alike.
I don't know much about South America, but is it a tribe that came north from South America?
Unbelievable, but it appears to be an isolated tribe of the United States.
There are isolated tribes in the world that have not yet been discovered.
I have read such newspaper articles.
While being vigilant to each other, they greet each other while the words do not make sense.
Since I'm a whole-hearted man, he left me armed.
It wasn't a friendly tribe, but it just didn't attack.
I decided that I could communicate.
I will be escorted to their settlement and entertained.
Their cultural standards were not what I expected.
In the woods, there is a cave-style dwelling like a semi-basement tent.
I stumbled on strange grains and potatoes.
Nevertheless, I have never seen this potato again.
Praying that it is not an alkaloid or any other poison, he thanked the Lord for his grace, and ate.
It seems like you'll sleep on a tree at night.
I thought it was a joke, but it was really Tom Sawyer's adventure.
He seems to be interested in my arm burns and tries to touch it several times.
August 2, 1926
It's been a while since I started living in the village.
The more you live with them, the more certain you become.
It's similar to the Americas, but it's not.
This place resembles the earth, but it is not.
I don't know where we are anymore.
I feel like Alice in Wonderland.
However, I still can't find the rabbit hole to return to the original world.
Please, if it's a dream, let it go.
I'm a wanderer taken in by their lives and I don't have the courage to get out of here.
Because I have no idea what's going on outside this village.
Exposed to unknown languages and sex every day, all I encounter is unfamiliar plants and animals.
Still, I need to survive.
Little by little, we started collecting their language to adapt to the life here.
There were not many variations in their language, and the adaptation to the language seemed to work.
August 26, 1926
I'm living with them and collecting their language little by little.
(Referring to the notes on the last page)
The social hierarchy of this settlement is interesting.
A young woman is the chief, and everyone in the village follows her words.
The higher their position in the village, the more decorative tattoos they put on their bodies.
The chief was like a shrine maiden.
Animism and shamanism in the North Asian cultural area are to be regarded as a habit.
In the center of the village is a place like Kindergarten, where children live in groups.
Adults go hunting without distinction between men and women.
The chief is on a fixed base, but he doesn't show up much, and he's stuck.
I only saw the long figure on the count.
The elderly are not alone.
Life expectancy is estimated to be extremely short.
In such a harsh environment, the infant mortality rate will also be high.
During his stay, two infants died.
(For the structure of the village, refer to the sketch below.)
September 24, 1926
Young people from the village were murdered today.
I attended the funeral, or burial ceremony, and saw something amazing.
The head can make the painting alive.
Yeah, I'm not crazy, though.
It's just... I'm not sure I can explain it accurately (pictured below).
The altar pattern becomes a reality when an animal is sacrificed on a patterned altar, the body is placed, and the head calls something.
For example, if you call a deer pattern, the painting will bounce around the real world.
The children say that the chief is moving the painting.
The chief was also able to have a conversation with the dead.
Those with a lot of tattoos can hear the appearance and voice of the spirit.
I thought it was some sort of trans, but apparently it wasn't.
I don't see anything, but listening to the voices of the dead is no shame.
Because the dead told me about who killed them.
The conversation between the captain and the dead quickly led us to the evidence of the man who killed him.
Looks like he was killed by another tribe.
Looking at the type of faith and ritual in the spirit, it seems that there is also commonality with the voodoo, but it is probably irrelevant.
I am about to miracle, and my faith in the Lord is about to shake.
The only thing to say is that this is not the earth.
No more airplanes fly into this sky.
I'm sure they won't pick up any radio waves.
When can I go home?
September 30, 1926
There is not much I can do here.
Since I can't hunt, I'm helping out with the cooking, which is thought to be all-encompassing.
That's where I say goodbye to babies.
I had another role to play.
I can provide simple medical care for the injuries of the people in the village with a medical kit.
While repeating those days, I was allowed to talk to the chairman.
The chief's name was Mayna.
I've never heard of her name before today.
The chief believes that I came from another world.
Unfortunately, I think so too.
Looking at the wound on my arm, I think I said Rutareka.
The chief was trying to remove Lutareka from my arm, but it didn't work.
When I told her that it was just a scratch and it couldn't be peeled off, I got a tongue stroke.
It seems that she really intends to take my wound off my arm.
I would be very grateful if you could do that.
I have a Lutareca in my arm, so the magic used by the chief to communicate with the dead (?).
It seemed to find something mysterious in the wound on my arm.
March 1, 1927
The core of the pencil is exhausted, so it is inconvenient to write a diary with the red dye and sprigs they use.
When I got lost in this mysterious world, a burn wound appeared on my arm.
It is pronounced “rootless or rootless” and is pronounced as rutareca.
The marks of the great magicians passed down in their tradition, and what bears this mark, are like magic.
Because I have no connection with the "ancestral spirit (Maate)", even with the power of Rutareka, I was not able to talk to the dead.
Instead, he was endowed with special powers through Rutareka.
It is said to be the power to quell the flood and restore fruit to the earth.
Specifically, any range of water could be dried.
I'm tired of being pushed by them and doing it on a wide scale.In some cases, it is impossible to move until the next day.
My magic power was reduced when I used it, and it would kill me if I ran out of magic.
But they expect me to use magic.
When I use my magic, Rutareka shines a beautiful light like a ruby.
Difficult to describe, or like when the heavenly blue stone was burned.
I trained them to increase their accuracy so that they could meet their expectations and not consume any more magic energy.
Why am I here with something like this?
May 8, 1927
Mumyo, we were suddenly attacked where we were sleeping.
It is said that the tribe that attacked the young people of the settlement last year.
More than a hundred people have attacked us (Appendix).Later, according to the count, 280 people)
Maina and the magicians responded with symbolic spells, but they were also killed one after another.
Mayna was the first to be murdered.
I fight back with a submachine gun.
Shots were fired at the assailant's feet.
With the bullets left, I unleashed the power of Rutareka in one direction.
And then... I remembered that I wanted all the marauders to be gone.
But that was all I wanted.
We wiped out the assailants and involved a few of the villagers in my direction.
The sacrificed corpse was taken away from the body, like a jerky.
On that day, I became the head of the village.
July 1, 1927
Since I became chief, I have become much more corrupt with regard to the maintenance of peace in the village.
Security in Arkansas was bad, but it's even worse here.
After all, if you don't like the Commander's policy, you can always come to bed and get assassinated.
I think that it has succeeded in mastering people's hearts, mainly children, and it has attracted the support of mothers, so at least it has prevented them from falling asleep.
Also, I have some knowledge besides Rutareka that they can't, which was good enough for them to keep me alive.
I've never thought I'd be better off teaching.
Here, the clashes with the surrounding tribes that were responsible for the annihilation of the Mailaka clan increased rapidly.
With the killing of Mayna, the leader, and the master of the magicians in the previous battle, the defense was thinning out at once.
The submachine guns are out of ammo, the number of people who can fight is dramatically reduced, and the power of the settlement is greatly reduced.
The immediate challenge is to fortify the village, educate them, hone their magic, and unite the village.
He gathered talented magicians, trained in combat, and organized a vigilante.
August 15, 1927
It looks like you're suffering from an epidemic of eclipses.
There are several cases of ascites, mainly in children.
I'm not a doctor, but I just read a feature in a newspaper and I have some doubts.
It is a schistosomiasis caused by a parasite infection.
Manson schistosomiasis, discovered and reported by Sir Patrick Manson more than a decade ago.
Reading reports that the terrible parasite lives in the West Indies, I was horrified to go on a vacation with my father to an island in the Caribbean.
Resident schistosomiasis is transmitted through water, settles in shells, and infects people.
There should have been reports of dermatitis, fever and ascites on the infected person's skin, and the appearance of insect eggs in the feces.
If I had a microscope, I might have been able to examine it, but it's hard not to have one.
There is still no cure for this terroir disease.
I heard that some areas are backfilling their habitats in order to cut off contaminated freshwater systems because the freshwater in the area is contaminated...
If my predictions are correct, the biggest freshwater lake in the area, Lake Pichikaka, is particularly dangerous.
I am lucky to have not developed it yet, but it is not strange when it occurs.
As an absolute measure for the time being, it was forbidden to touch all fresh water on the ground.
Only rainwater and spring water from underground caves with different water sources can be used for daily life.
September 24, 1927
October 30, 1927
January 2, 1928
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April 12, 1929
As the number of pages decreased, I kept a diary of small letters, but it was finally the last page.
It is just right to finish the diary.
The other day, I learned a new legend from the inscription engraved on the grave.
“Until we expel all the Inhumans with their emblems, the world will not be torn apart.”
I'm sure the Inhumans are the ones who have fallen victim to this world, like me.
I'm sick of everything.
I feel like the Lord has abandoned me and fallen to the bottom of the earth.
This world is blocked, perhaps a fictional world separated from time and space.
I can't stay here.
I'm not going to let the seasons go by while the people of the village are delighting me here.
I just want to go home.
Besides, the magic power left in my body seemed to be very small.
When that time comes, my presence here will be meaningless.
You may fall asleep, and you must be concerned about your personal danger.
I took over the chief as my successor and entrusted him with the rest.
What have I done since I came here?
We reconciled with the six hostile tribes and concluded a ceasefire agreement.
If you have the power to help me since I came here.
Not even a submachine gun.
Not even Lutareka.
It was the knowledge of the oligarchs and the wisdom of the great ancestors that was packed into my brain.
If that knowledge makes me the chief of a region, it makes coexistence and prosperity with different tribes a reality, and above all, my guests are allowed to stay here and have the right to survival.
Once I am recognized as a chieftain of the area, the Mylaka people will not be attacked anymore.
And if I am called into the land by the commandment of the Lord, saying, Give them rest,
Is it okay to complete the mission at this stage?
At the end of this cave, which they call "Lacanga", is the entrance to the otherworld, the Vortex of Light.
I will break this lacanga from now on.
Looks like we don't have much time.
I am also infected with schistosomiasis, and I have a continuous fever and vomiting.
Fatigue is also severe, possibly with multiple infections.
I want to go back to the United States.
That's all I want.
What's happening on the other side of the wall?
I don't know if I have to go in.
I hope you can go home and drink some coke tomorrow.
Now, let's return to our nostalgic home.
◆
Farma closed his diary with a deep breath.
There was no time to read all more than 250 pages, but I read most of the passage.
Lost from Arkansas in this alien world, she joined the Mylaka tribe, learned the magic, used the power of Lutareka, and used her knowledge to protect the village from schistosomiasis, bringing together tribes to thrive.
(Amazing...... Mr. Harris. Elementary school teacher herself, in this harsh environment, without medicines and medical equipment, with the knowledge of the early twentieth century to do this)
The last date was October 17, 1929.
In the year of the global panic on Earth, a week before the dark Friday, she had no way of knowing.
As Mélène said, it was the Lacanga Cave that killed her.
I don't know what happened at the end of the Lacanga Cave, or whether I saw the "Vortex of Light" as it's legend tells me, but now that there was a body in the cave, I guess I couldn't go any further.
And they destroyed their lives in the land.
Farma followed her footsteps, which ended her life in a foreign land, and thought ill of it.
Her suffering was something that Farma had been experiencing ever since she came to this world.
How happy I would have been in this world at the same time.
This diary will not be returned to the family living at XXXXX, Winterville, Arkansas.
(Because you kept detailed records like this, I can get to know her inside.Maybe I should keep a diary too.....)
I also thought about it.
But one thing is salvation--
(Mélene couldn't summon her spirit in Lacanga Cave, could she?)
She may not have survived, but her soul may have been set free and she may have been able to return to the home of her dreams.
Don't leave her clues unattended.
Farma gently exchanged hands with her thoughts.