I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World-Chapter 25: Beyond the Rules

I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World

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[Original – YakuMan]

[TL – MiT7]

[PR – Spades]

Chapter 25: Beyond the Rules

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Long black hair, neatly trimmed bangs.

A short-sleeved black top with a red scarf at the neck, a black skirt, and black boots—a middle schooler's look.

Yet the deep black sailor suit didn't lend Enma Ai any youthful vibe.

Her sickly pale skin and blood-red eyes, stark against the dark outfit, made her seem ominous, eerie—something to fear.

Meeting those crimson eyes, Kamihara Shinji frowned slightly.

He'd wanted to see her, sure—to glimpse how the 2D Enma Ai translated to 3D.

She was striking, her delicate animated features holding up in reality.

But he hadn't meant for her to show up uninvited.

He knew exactly what that meant.

Enma Ai only came for two reasons.

One: you'd typed a grudge's name into Hell Correspondence. She'd take you to a blood-red sunset shore, lined with spider lilies, beneath a giant tree ringed by mountains, hand you a straw doll, and explain her rules.

Two: you hadn't. Then she was here to drag you to hell.

Kamihara stayed quiet, but not for long. Fixing his gaze on her, he asked calmly, "What's this about?"

If his own urban legend could be turned against him, that'd be a brutal twist.

But if so, he'd accept it.

He'd written the rules, created Hell Girl. If she followed them to his doom, he couldn't blame anyone.

His oversight—not factoring himself in.

Enma Ai, barely chest-high to him, tilted her head up. Her voice was flat, emotionless. "Master, someone entered your name on Hell Correspondence."

"You're taking me to hell?"

She shook her head faintly, staring at him. "My power comes from you. You exist outside the rules."

His expression softened, tension easing from his frame.

No one shrugs off death—he wasn't immune.

Her words dropped a weight from his chest.

"Who wants me in hell?" His tone turned icy. School punks, probably.

"Koyama Kin."

Koyama Kin? Who?

Kamihara racked his memory—nothing. No one by that name at Sakuraaki High, delinquent or otherwise.

Before he could dwell, Enma Ai didn't move, but his vision blurred. When it cleared, he stood under a blood-red sunset.

He stayed put, spotting a Sakuraaki High first-year in uniform near the giant tree, facing Enma Ai.

But she was beside him now—this was a replay.

He studied Koyama Kin's face, brow still furrowed. No recognition.

A minute later, the "Enma Ai" and "Koyama Kin" chat ended.

Back in his study, Kamihara stopped chasing who Koyama was.

He met her eyes.

"I wrote your powers clear: enter a grudge's name in Hell Correspondence, pull the string, and they go to hell."

"If I don't, doesn't that void your contract with Koyama?"

Enma Ai's face stayed serene, unshaken by anything.

But Kamihara knew she had quirks when alone.

Folding paper balloons, sewing, playing the recorder. Popping cherries in her mouth and spitting them out. Poking holes in window paper when moody.

"You're outside the rules," she repeated, voice steady, almost hypnotic. "The contract's signed. You decide: void it, or send Koyama to hell."

So when Koyama typed his name, Kamihara gained control over life and death.

Outside the rules, he could nullify it. Or enforce it—someone had to go.

The choice was his.

It made sense.

In the anime, her power came from the Three-Eyed Spider. If someone named it in Hell Correspondence, could she send it to hell?

Ridiculous.

"Send him to hell," Kamihara said lightly. No need to overthink.

From Koyama's view: he'd entered Kamihara's name, met Hell Girl, pulled the string—and nothing.

He'd freak. If he blabbed to the MPD, it'd expose Kamihara.

He glanced at Enma Ai. "Can I watch you take him?"

"Yes."

Her words barely settled before the scene shifted. From his warm study to a damp, cold place, water trickling in his ears.

He stood on a riverbank, a dark path beneath his feet. Purple-gray mist swirled, thick with moisture, cloaking a bleak sky.

Curious, he turned. Fog choked his view—just a faint, endless river.

Ai-chan's workplace kinda sucked.

Enma Ai, now in a black kimono embroidered with spider lilies—vivid yet sinister—stood on a small boat, paddling gently with a thin oar. Her eyes fixed ahead on a dilapidated torii gate.

Koyama Kin blinked awake, jolted by the eerie sight and water's rhythm. He shot up, eyes darting in terror.

He gaped at the boat's ukiyo-e lanterns, faintly glowing, floating alongside.

In a flash, he saw her—Hell Girl, those red eyes searing into his memory.

"Hell Girl?" Koyama stammered, trembling but immobile. "No, no—this is wrong! You're supposed to take Kamihara Shinji to hell! Why... why am I here? I pulled the string!"

Even clueless, he knew something was off.

"Koyama Kin."

A voice cut through from the shore.

Unlike Koyama's panic, Kamihara strolled alongside the slow boat, relaxed, gaze cold.

"We don't know each other. Why put my name in Hell Correspondence?"