So, I’ve been assigned the role of picking the child to sacrifice. Well, if I’ve been chosen, I’ll carry out my duty properly. After all, it’s not like the death of some infidels outside our cult matters in the slightest.

Bang!

I enter the station concourse where the hostages are gathered. All the shutters are closed, and over a hundred hostages are huddled in the middle of the wide hall. My comrades, armed and ready, surround them.

Heh. Look at them—every last one trembling in fear. Well, that’s only natural. Growing up sheltered in such a peaceful country, they’ve probably never known hardship. Unlike my homeland, where corpses line the streets, where each meal is a desperate struggle, and where death is an ever-present companion. The disparity makes me sick.

Now, which kid should it be? A baby might be too young. Boy or girl? It doesn’t really matter. Oh, that boy over there looks just right. He’s shaking like a leaf, about to burst into tears. A crying, screaming child would make the perfect spectacle for broadcasting to the world.

“Hey, you. Kid. Come here.”

We’ve spent years preparing for this day since infiltrating Japan. My Japanese might not be perfect, but over half of my comrades have mastered the language.

“Mama…”

“Please, I’m begging you! Spare the child! Take me instead!”

The woman clutching the boy must be his mother. There doesn’t seem to be a father in the picture.

“Relax. We’re just letting one person go for negotiation purposes. Someone from upstairs will also be released.”

Of course, that’s a blatant lie, but it should make them hand over the kid willingly.

“In that case, let me go! I’m unemployed and worthless as a hostage.”

“Please! Take me! I can’t take this anymore!”

“No, take me! I’ll pay you any amount you want. Just let me go!”

The other hostages start clamoring, desperate to save themselves. What a noisy, selfish bunch. They’d gladly throw someone else under the bus to secure their own safety. Humans really are ugly creatures.

“Not yet! Hostages will only be released gradually as the government meets our demands. Pray that they comply and stay quiet!”

If our demands are met, more than half of the hostages will be freed. More. Than. Half.

“Please, let me go with him!”

“No. Only the child will be released.”

“…Then I’ll give up my spot. I want to stay with my child.”

“In that case, take me instead!”

“Please, let it be me!”

Tch. Did they see through my lie? Or do they simply not want to leave the child? Either way, this is getting annoying. The other hostages are making more noise too.

“Enough! Hand over the kid. I won’t harm him.”

“P-please, take me instead! I beg you, spare my child!”

Tch. What a nuisance. The mother shields the boy behind her. At this point, it’s faster to take him by force.

“Hey!”

I signal to one of my comrades guarding the hostages. Catching on, he approaches.

“Please, take me! Just my child, please spare him!”

The mother clings to the boy, shielding him with her body. How touching. Maybe I should’ve filmed this scene. Adding footage of her protecting him, followed by the boy’s death, would’ve made a more impactful example.

“Come on, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

My comrade forcibly restrains the mother. His strength is overwhelming. As he pins her down, I finally manage to grab the boy.

“Mama!”

“Nooo! Let him go!”

Damn, this woman is loud. But finally, the boy is secured. All I have to do now is hand him over to my comrade, and my job is done.

“Get out of the way!!”

“Gah—!”

“What the—?!”

The comrade restraining the mother is suddenly sent flying by something. What the hell?! What just happened?!

“Urgh…”

Then it happens to me. Before I can process it, I’m hit by an inhuman force and blown away by someone—or something—wearing an utterly bizarre outfit.