Trapped on a Terrifying Island, This Good-for-Nothing Just Wants to Survive

1.

Stepping into the countryside, Genji stretched and took a deep breath of the cool, fragrant air, slightly alleviating the heaviness in his heart.

Thanks to Japan’s “Remote Island Development Law,” even its peripheral regions had modernized, with decent infrastructure in place.

However, the scenery in Cicada Hidden Town remained untouched by industrial smog, resembling an untainted painting.

The residential areas mainly consisted of single-family homes, low-rise apartments, or humble thatched cottages, with scarcely any high buildings. If there was any architectural beauty, it was likely in the administrative and cultural district, where government and educational institutions were clustered.

Small shops and family workshops were sparsely scattered across the plain. Shopkeepers, yawning and swatting flies, rarely saw new customers.

Despite it being a weekend, the absence of groups leisurely strolling was noticeable. Was it due to the sparse population, or did people prefer staying indoors?

Oddly, Genji saw few fields or factories in the town, mostly just trees and grass. The undulating hills in the distance offered a different charm, but that area, deemed sacred, was off-limits to ordinary people.

The sound of bamboo in the wind and the murmur of streams brought life to what otherwise might have been a dull landscape, showcasing nature’s talent as a composer.

Yet, there were discordant elements in this “painting” –

Every so often along the road stood dark red, wedge-shaped stones, about the height of a person, resembling giant pieces of liver, standing silently.

Genji detected a faint, metallic scent, and the pleasant feelings he had just started to experience were replaced by an unsettling sense of unease.

“What are these exactly…?”

Mikagawa, long accustomed to such sights, was nonchalant: “These are ‘Bloodstones of the Gods,’ a specialty of Ye Island. Legend has it they’re stained with the blood of Kunitsukami, providing protection against evil spirits. In reality, it’s just the iron content that makes people think of blood.”

So, the blood scent was just the smell of rust? But it seemed unusually strong.

2.

Along the way, some older faces, not quite Japanese in appearance, stealthily observed them. As soon as their gazes met Genji’s, they quickly lowered their heads or hid inside their houses, peeking out through gaps in doors and windows.

Genji’s sense of unease grew.

“Are those… foreigners?”

“The native Ainu of Hokkaido have European-like features. Moreover, Ye Island is close to Russia and the Korean Peninsula, so there are immigrants from these areas who’ve settled here for generations. By the way, Genji, you’ve finished reading the book, right?”

“Eh?”

Caught off guard, Genji panicked. Was Mikagawa about to quiz him?

Mikagawa continued, “The book mentioned it. Many laborers from other East Asian countries were conscripted to Japan for hard labor, facing sickness, injury, and death. Even those who survived couldn’t always return home after the war. Hokkaido has many such people left behind.”

Another grim chapter of history. Mikagawa seemed particularly attentive to these matters.

Genji fell silent, reflecting.

His grandparents’ repeated teachings had instilled a sense of political apathy in him, an attempt to stay detached from the currents of history.

However, his father’s writings and Mikagawa’s guidance stirred ripples in his long-stagnant heart.

Had he defied his grandparents and secretly read his father’s books, would he have had more common ground with his father? Could he have deduced his father’s disappearance from his social media activity sooner?

These thoughts tightened his chest as he continued in silence.

3.

Fortunately, the aroma of food broke the silence. Lifting his head, Genji saw the sign “Duanmu Pavilion.”

It was a three-story restaurant styled like a Chinese inn.

A middle-aged man with thick eyebrows and a ruddy complexion was at the counter. Seeing them, he stood up and greeted them in heavily accented Japanese: “Young man, brought a new friend? What would you like to eat?”

“Same as always, and let’s see what my junior likes,” Mikagawa pointed to Genji.

“Sweet and sour pork loin, crabmeat imitation, braised tendon with scallion, Yangzhou fried rice, and shaojiu, right?” The owner nodded to his regular customer, then handed Genji the menu. “It’s ‘Russian Week’ in Cicada Hidden Town. You get a discount on Russian dishes!”

“I got a good bonus, so let me treat you. Don’t worry about the cost; order whatever you like. The ingredients here are fresh from the port, something you can’t get in the cafeteria,” Mikagawa said grandly.

Still hesitant to let Mikagawa pay, Genji browsed the menu and ordered borscht and –

um, rye bread with pickles.

“What are you ordering? All veggies…” Mikagawa frowned in disdain, half amused, “It’s a rare outing; why not order some hearty dishes? How about some Russian kebabs and beef stew with potatoes?” suggested the helpful owner.

“Okay… sure,” Genji agreed, slightly embarrassed.

“Great!”

The owner turned and shouted some orders to the kitchen in a language even less comprehensible than his Japanese.

“Is that… Chinese?” Genji shook his head, feeling it wasn’t quite right.

“It’s a pidgin or creole based on Japanese, mixed with Chinese, Korean, Russian, and English. This restaurant serves not only Chinese but also Korean and Russian cuisines. The foreign chefs are old and not very fluent in Japanese. Most older people in town communicate like this.”

“Pid… Cre…?” Genji felt lost.

“Ah, I’m not clear on the difference between pidgin and creole. Ask Meio about it.”

Huh? Who’s that? Genji looked baffled.

“I forgot to introduce her. Miyama Meio is my girlfriend, a genius in the Life Sciences Department with a hobby in linguistics.”

Mikagawa proudly showed a photo of his girlfriend, sweet and serene, while his younger self looked less frivolous than now. It must be an old photo.

“Enough, senior. Don’t rub it in. I don’t want to be a third wheel,” Genji motioned for him to stop.

Mikagawa raised an eyebrow: “Why not find a girlfriend yourself? Men have needs, and who wants to be a celibate on a remote island?”

“I’m sorry, I’m 16 and don’t understand your adult topics,” Genji blushed, covering his ears in protest.

“You’re shy? Haven’t you ever dated?” Mikagawa laughed heartily.

“Senior, too loud! Don’t spread it around!”

However, Genji’s concern was unnecessary. Most patrons were busy enjoying a Cossack dance performance on stage, clapping and cheering, paying no mind to their conversation.