Japanese Terrorist: What? I'll fight Hellstar!

In the depths of darkness, cold, filthy resentment spreads as if it were a tangible thing, like old bloodstains seeping into the wood grain.

Kayako's eyes were fixed on the four women who had barged into her home.

They all have the same hideous, beautiful face.

Are they quadruplets?

I don't know, and it doesn't matter.

She simply loathed them.

I loathe their smooth skin, slender figures, and the almost overflowing health and beauty they exude.

Such a woman must have been pampered by her parents, adored by men, and grown up freely in the sunshine, right?

Like the sunny corner of a classroom, they can laugh and talk loudly without any restraint, and they don't care if they offend others, because there will always be someone who tolerates them.

Completely different from oneself, the opposite extreme.

I have been living in pain since birth.

Being ignored, forgotten, and unwanted... is like a tiny insect living under a roadside stone.

Unforgivable! ...Unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable!

Why am I so unfortunate, while others are happy? I absolutely cannot forgive this injustice!

Resentment, resentment, resentment—it was completely uncontrollable, and I didn't want to suppress it.

We must make them feel the same misfortune as we do!

Tomie Kawakami rubbed her aching wrist and pouted as she walked into the first-floor bathroom.

She turned on the tap, and the cold water gurgled, the coolness from her fingertips slightly calming her agitation.

"Seriously, this lousy place..."

Tomie Kawakami rinsed her hands with cold water, then scooped up some water and splashed it on her face, a few drops sliding down her neck and into her collar.

She turned off the tap, leaned closer to the mirror, and checked her makeup.

The mirror was a little blurry, reflecting her slightly impatient face. Her bangs were stuck to her forehead because of the cold water. She raised her hand to tidy her hair, her fingertips smoothly running through the smooth, black strands.

Suddenly, the sensation at my fingertips became somewhat strange.

Amidst the smooth black hair, there were a few particularly dry strands, as if the ends of the hair hadn't been styled in a long time.

Tomie Kawakami frowned, hooking a few unruly strands of hair with her fingers, trying to straighten them.

However, the texture became increasingly worse; the hair was unusually dry and even prickly, and the more she pulled, the more it seemed to grow—it was nothing like the kind of hair that should grow on the head of a beauty like her.

Tomie Kawakami grabbed a clump of dry, tangled hair and pulled it in front of her eyes.

"What garbage? It's so ugly!"

Upon seeing that tuft of hair, Tomie Kawakami instinctively made a comment.

This is definitely not her hair.

Her hair was always as smooth as silk, with a carefully maintained shine. But the lock in her hand was dry, rough, and gave off a strange smell.

Tomie Kawakami took a sniff; it smelled like the musty smell of dust accumulated in an old attic, mixed with a damp, fishy odor.

"How disgusting!"

As if she had touched something dirty, Kawakami Tomie hurriedly shook off the clump of hair and looked up at the ceiling.

On the white paint on the bathroom ceiling, a large patch of filthy black stains had appeared at some point, resembling water stains that had seeped in for years, or the residue of some kind of viscous liquid that had dried.

From that black stain, large clumps of hair dripped down like sewage, scattered on her head as if weightless.

When Tomie Kawakami looked up, strands of her hair brushed against her cheek, the touch cold and sticky, carrying a strange smell of dust and mold, like dead insects crawling on her skin.

"Varied……!"

The next moment, a cold, binding sensation suddenly gripped her neck!

Her hair, which had been falling loosely over her shoulders, tightened instantly, almost digging into Tomie Kawakami's skin. She only had time to gasp before her feet were lifted off the ground by a tremendous force, and her body was suspended in mid-air.

With her trachea being intensely compressed, Tomie Kawakami's eyes bulged out, her legs kicked wildly, knocking over a bucket of water beside her, and her hands frantically scratched her neck, her nails drawing blood, but she couldn't budge a hair.

Her beautiful face quickly turned purple with bloodshot eyes, and her mouth opened wide, but she couldn't breathe in a single breath.

Gradually, Tomie Kawakami's convulsions subsided.

In the end, she hung motionless in the center of the bathroom like a broken doll, casting a swaying shadow in the dim light.

At the same time that Kawakami Tomie was murdered by Kayako, in the master bedroom on the second floor, a Tomie opened the drawer of the bedside table, and a brown notebook and several photos appeared in front of her.

The person in the photo is a girl wearing white clothes and with long hair.

"Was this ugly woman a former resident?"

Tomie Kawakami picked up the photo, glanced at it, and then threw it on the ground without interest.

She opened the notebook with great interest. The contents were written in rather poor handwriting and included a few poorly drawn illustrations.

——Xiao Lin.

The first page of the notebook was filled with the words "Xiaolin".

Tomie Kawakami raised an eyebrow and casually flipped through the pages.

"...Today, when I looked into Kobayashi's eyes again, it felt like my heart was about to burst... Kobayashi was at his usual bookstore looking at comics again today. It's a store he frequents, and I always go around to the front to wait for him... Today, Kobayashi didn't come to school. Because I was worried, I went to check on him at his apartment. Although I bought a bouquet of flowers, I didn't dare to knock on the door. So I stood outside Kobayashi's window for several hours..."

"Huh? What is this? A simp's diary?"

Tomie Kawakami laughed without any restraint, and the other two Tomies also came over. They stepped on Kayako's photo, squeezed to both sides of Tomie Kawakami, and craned their necks to look at the contents of the notebook.

"...That woman named Midorikawa Manami, I can't stand her seducing Kobayashi. Kobayashi could never possibly like a vain woman like that..."

Kobayashi vomited all over the street in front of the shop yesterday, but I couldn't pat his back. However, I wanted him to know that I could eat even Kobayashi's vomit, something Midorikawa Manami definitely couldn't, but I could...

I'm not like that woman, so I can't approach Xiaolin as openly as she did, but Xiaolin should understand how I feel...

Hahahaha!

"The clown! This clown is hilarious!"

"He's a complete and utter pervert."

"Are you kidding me? Do clowns really exist in the world? I thought only the men who were pursuing me would do something so ridiculous."

"After all, she's an ugly woman. Even if she's pursuing an ugly man we don't think much of, she has to be even more humble."

……

The women, including Tomie Kawakami, burst into unrestrained laughter. They laughed so hard they bent over, pushing and shoving each other until they collapsed onto the double bed covered with old gray sheets, mocking the room and the notebook's owner without any restraint.