I Was Kidnapped by a Book and Ended Up Saving the World - Chapter 2

Fortunately, thanks to Oda Sakunosuke, at least Mizutani Hikaru understood that he was still in his original world, still in Yokohama, and hadn’t been sent to some bizarre place.

But even so, he needed to confirm one thing.

Half-kneeling on the ground, Oda Sakunosuke heard the child in his arms softly ask:
“Can I take a look at you?”

Oda Sakunosuke froze for a moment, then realized the boy meant it in a very unusual way.

“Mm.” Oda nodded vigorously, even making a sound to ensure the vacant-eyed child in his arms could be certain of his affirmation.

Mizutani Hikaru carefully reached out his hand and touched Oda Sakunosuke’s face. His features were smooth and even, but most importantly, his chin carried a faint stubble.

It was a little prickly to the touch, but it steadied Mizutani’s heart. Thank goodness—this was his normal, ordinary subordinate, not some exquisitely beautiful, otherworldly figure.

Oda gently asked in return:
“Child, what’s your name?”

A string of names flashed through Mizutani’s mind before he finally whispered:
“Suzuki Haruka.”

“Is there somewhere you want to go?” Oda asked—a question that wouldn’t pierce old wounds. He didn’t ask about the family of a child who had stood amid gunfire. He only asked where the boy wished to go.

What a question… Suzuki Haruka, with lifeless eyes, turned toward Oda’s voice.

Logically, the next step should be to return to the Port Mafia and go through the usual reporting process to the boss. Even if his original body had met with an accident, even without combat ability now, he would still be valued.

After all, hidden within this small body was a rare ability: foresight.

Compared to before, this ability was more valuable, more controllable. Knowing the temperament of that big boss of his, Mizutani could already imagine the man’s delight—and how he would exploit him until death.

…And his vacation time had been scarce enough as it was.

After a fierce internal struggle, Mizutani carefully folded the damp cloth Oda had handed him into a neat square, then returned it.

He spoke in a negotiating tone:
“I have a very rich relative. If you let me stay at your place for now, he’ll give you lots of money.”

In reality, the “rich relative” was himself. If something really had gone wrong with his original body, he would have to dip into his backup anonymous bank card.

Oda didn’t question him. He leaned down, meeting Suzuki Haruka’s eyes as an equal, and said:
“Mm.”

Whether true or false, Oda knew he couldn’t let a child linger here.

Even if this was only the edge of the battlefield, danger still lurked.

Those who had gone mad with killing would not spare him because of his age.

Mizutani had considered this too, which was why he wanted to hide for now—until he had a chance to check on the state of his original body.

But he doubted it would be that simple. Since someone was targeting him, that thing calling itself “the Book” would likely reach out again.

At that moment, a wave of dizziness struck—not normal fainting, but an endless drowsiness.

Sensing the boy’s drooping eyelids, Oda gently supported the back of his neck, helping him rest more comfortably.

Mizutani woke on a cold floor, his back aching badly, as though struck by a burly man’s fists.

It must have been from collapsing without warning. He stretched a little; other than the soreness, there was nothing wrong.

After what had just happened, he was certain: this was far beyond what a normal psychic ability-user could do. The “Book” was far more dangerous than he had imagined.

But outwardly, Mizutani deliberately kept his expression relaxed.

【Do you believe I’m real now?】 asked the icy mechanical voice.

Mizutani nodded. Pulling a chair over, he sat down, black eyes flashing with a hint of doubt as he casually asked:
“Why did you choose me?”

Even without giving someone a body, merely granting an ability would be enough to stir up a storm anywhere.

【After analysis, you are the adult in Yokohama most compatible with me.】

Mizutani repeated one word with a subtle tone:
“Compatible.”

【Yes. After my detailed analysis: two months ago, you binge-watched all episodes of The Overbearing Detective Fell in Love with Me; last month, you wrote a two-thousand-word review of My Girlfriend Is a Fox Spirit Lady; and this month, you—】

“Ahem.” Mizutani cut it off with a loud, deliberate cough before it could finish.

Even for him, this was unbearably embarrassing. In the Port Mafia—where work was practically nonstop—secretly chasing shows had been his greatest, most private hobby.

Never had he imagined his guilty pleasures would one day be laid bare by some unknown thing.

“So what is it you actually want? Can you just state your goal clearly?” Mizutani redirected the topic.

【I want you to take a commemorative photo with the protagonist of the story. I don’t have a body, so I’d like to entrust that to you.】

At the word “story,” Mizutani instantly recalled that prologue.

He couldn’t resist asking:
“Where exactly do your stories come from?”

The mechanical voice paused for two seconds, then spoke in a solemn, almost reverent tone:
【They are the echoes of the universe.】

Mizutani didn’t believe a single syllable. If the universe’s echoes really sounded like this, astronauts must be living in daily torment.

A photo wasn’t too difficult, but Mizutani had the distinct feeling things wouldn’t be as simple as that.

For now, he ignored the voice in his head. There were three books on his shelf, but only one had appeared so far, and only its prologue was accessible. When he tried to flip forward, a notification chimed: Unlock conditions not met. Please try again later.

He fixed himself a simple dinner. At the Port, one person was often worked like three.

He had just secured a single day off after a month of nonstop work—and even then, only daytime rest. At night, he had to return for the night shift.

At the thought, Mizutani couldn’t help but radiate gloomy black energy.

The lights at Nakahara Chūya’s place were still off. At this point in time, Chūya was even busier than Mizutani.

And yet, every time they met at work, he always brimmed with energy.

Ah, youth is nice.

Although Mizutani was still in his twenties and technically a young man, he felt no enthusiasm for work at all—only a deep longing for sleep.

He slowly ate a small mango cake from the fridge.

The soft cream and sweet mango briefly soothed his fatigue.

But another sensation lingered in his mind: calm, comforting, as though he had sunk into something warm and dark.

Mizutani realized that was Suzuki Haruka’s perspective. He even knew that if he willed it, Haruka would immediately awaken.

But he didn’t. He was about to leave for work, and in this state, he could at least recover a bit of stamina.

If he tried to split his focus, juggling both Haruka’s every move and his own grueling night shift, he’d go insane.

As the night deepened, Mizutani drove to the Port.

On his way to his workplace, he ran into a squad.

Normally, he would have passed by without a glance. But spotting Oda Sakunosuke among them made him pause.

The man leading the squad read the mood quickly and stepped up, asking:
“Is something the matter, Mizutani-san?”

Being one of Chūya’s loyal subordinates, Mizutani’s status had risen along with Chūya’s growing reputation.

Mizutani averted his gaze and casually asked:
“Off to dispose of bodies?”

For low-level Mafia squads, doing the dirty work others avoided was common. Body disposal—and scavenging valuables from the corpses—was part of the job.

The man shook his head respectfully:
“No, we’re handling duds.”

A job even less pleasant than corpse disposal. One wrong move could mean death.

Mizutani nodded and didn’t continue the conversation. He headed toward his own building.

That afternoon, his boss had crushed a fairly large organization with overwhelming force. Mizutani’s job tonight was to log the leftover assets—a significant workload.

As soon as he entered the office, bright reddish-brown hair instantly filled his vision.

Nakahara Chūya, clad in a fitted suit, his sharp-edged beauty carrying an air of aggression.

【Key figure detected. Automatically unlocking Killer O, Chapter One: First Encounter.】

…The key figure is Nakahara Chūya? Wait, but he remembered Oda Sakunosuke having a husband in the earlier plot—and the ages didn’t match at all.

There’s no way Chūya would be a protagonist too, right? He wasn’t even old enough to legally marry.

【It was a quiet night. Oda Sakunosuke slowly savored the spicy curry before him. The heat exploded across his tongue, bringing unparalleled delight.】

Was this man really that fond of curry? Mizutani recalled the title had been something like The Curry-Flavored Killer O’s Infiltration. He hadn’t understood what “O” meant at first, but after reading a few online essays, he’d fully grasped the peculiar term.

Even after understanding, he still found it impossible to associate that word with the stubbly man he knew.

Just as his thoughts scattered, the mechanical voice continued relentlessly:

【A nearly two-meter-tall man pushed open the door. With the creak of the hinges, an overwhelming, inescapable pheromone spread through the tavern. The air was instantly saturated with the expensive scent of red wine. “So you’re the bearer of the Silver Decree?” The man wore a black hat, his eyes a striking shade of blue. The corners of his lips curled into a smile, arrogance radiating from him. “Let me see your strength.”】

【“Can I finish my curry first?” Oda Sakunosuke’s expression remained calm. The tavern’s dim light bathed them both, as though laying a beautiful glow over this fateful encounter.】

【End of Encounter】

The passage contained far too much information, and Mizutani immediately latched onto the most important point: an absurd story had somehow dragged in the “Silver Decree”—something only known internally. That was the clue he needed to pursue.

But the image of that two-meter-tall man refused to leave his mind.

Why had his boss’s debut specifically highlighted his height—such an exaggerated height at that? Mizutani almost couldn’t resist sneaking a look at Nakahara Chūya.

Could it be… his boss had secretly paid the so-called “echo of the universe” for this?