V6 Prologue: The One Who Dwells Within part 1

Reading Settings

Translator: Soafp

---

[Unknown PoV]

He glanced at the message on his phone and grinned with delight.

“Haha! I can’t believe they actually did it!”

It was a thrill he hadn't felt in a long time. Alone in his room, he burst into loud laughter, mocking and sneering.

What burned in his eyes was a bubbling, seething desire for revenge. He clenched his fist tightly.

“That’s right. It’s ridiculous! Why should I be the only one who suffers? The only one who has to be the sacrifice—”

Thud! He slammed his fist into the wall. A dull pain made him click his tongue in frustration. Perhaps the skin had split—faint traces of blood oozed out. A vivid gash. Even this pain—they were the ones who caused it.

There was no way he could forgive them. No, maybe if he had just kept quiet, he might never have remembered. It’s not like he had forgotten—he had only sealed away those loathsome memories.

“Tch. Any more than this and it’ll really be bad…”

A sadistic urge surged within him, but he managed to regain some composure. He wanted to push them to the brink, to make them suffer an unbearable pain—but going further would be dangerous. He had already crossed a line.

Up until now, he’d barely managed to keep it at the level of harassment. But this time, he was completely out of bounds.

If they started taking serious action against him, only ruin awaited. If it came to that, his position would spiral further into disgrace. He bit his nail with a sharp gnash. Everything about this pissed him off endlessly.

“How strange. why are you there?”

Social media was buzzing as usual. It was unbearable, yet he couldn't avoid seeing it no matter how much he tried. He thought about blocking it all—but that felt like admitting defeat, and it pissed him off. Everything about it infuriated him.

The man who had somehow become famous, and himself, who had hit rock bottom. The contrast was brutal—it made him feel all the more pathetic.

Had he seen that guy wandering the depths of failure instead, he might've felt some relief. He probably wouldn't have even bothered getting involved. After all, that man was someone he should've erased from his memory.

But what he saw was an utterly unfair reality. That once-lonely man, who used to have no one, was now surrounded by people overflowing with affection—and he, on the other hand, was completely alone.

There's no way this should be allowed. Why was the man who rejected everything the one who was happy, while he—the one cast out—was the one who suffered? It made no sense. Reality was twisted. The one who should've been rewarded had been mistaken.

Ever since that day, his life had gone off the rails. The world had flipped upside down. He spent his days loathed, cursed at, and living in fear. His parents' disappointment and scolding, and the unfamiliar environment, had slowly eaten away at his heart.

He endured the humiliation. Even while harboring hatred, he had somehow survived the stifling, bitter days.

And yet—
And yet, and yet, and yet, and yet, and yet, and yet—why?!

“I won't forgive them. Not him, not that girl! Never—!”

A torrent of rage surged through him, endless and uncontainable, even as he understood the risk.

He looked again at the message that had just arrived. The air grew more tense, more dangerous.

“What a stupid woman. She's an accomplice too, isn't she?”

What she had written was just whining. But it was too late—there was no turning back. The die had been cast.

It was the girl who had carried it out. If anyone tried to trace the incident, it would inevitably lead to her.

Even if the trail extended from her to him, it wouldn't be a problem.

“It won't become a big deal. It can't. After all—she is the one at fault, isn't she?”

It was all because of her that his life had fallen apart. It was her fault that he was now in ruins. She was the root of it all.

If only she had been more careful back then—if only she had handled things more skillfully—none of this would have happened. The nightmare could have been avoided. He could've been living a fulfilling life by now.

“…Guess she's outlived her usefulness.”

She had been the perfect scapegoat, but it was reaching the limit.

He tossed his phone onto the bed, cutting her off without hesitation. He never trusted her anyway.

They had reconnected by chance and hit it off. Naturally, their conversations drifted toward him—the guy who went to the same high school as the girl.

The more they talked, the clearer it became: she held a lingering desire for petty revenge.

“I just took advantage of that… I'm not the bad one. I only granted an ugly wish.”

It had started with harmless pranks. Just tiny things that wouldn't get noticed. She had been satisfied with that.

Yes, her grudge was only ever that small. In fact, by the middle of it all, she had clearly started to back away.

That's why—when his demands escalated—she couldn't take it anymore and began to avoid him.

“Once you stain your hands, you can never be clean again. You're the one who taught me that, remember?”

He recalled the way she looked at him—like he was filth. Like sewage. A tar-like stain, thick and sticky, clinging to everything.

It can never be wiped away

That's why he dragged her down with him—to the bottom of the swamp, where filthy mud gathers and no one escapes.

Once a mistake is made, it cannot be undone. Things never return to how they were.

He had learned that the hard way—from his classmates at the time.

“…How kind of them.”

He spat the words with contempt. Back then, not a single person stood by him. On the contrary, they treated him like a criminal, relentlessly tormenting him.

Even the girl, who had been his accomplice, was nothing more than a target for his revenge.

He wore a thin, bitter smile. Let her suffer more. That's what she deserves.

“Well, I guess I'll leave it at that for now.”

She had served her purpose. She was no longer needed. Only those who stray from the righteous path can continue forward.

This was the final line—one he clearly recognized. It was the point of no return.

He'd heard that the girl looked pale and seemed to be in poor health.

Of course she did. There's no way she could remain calm—not after an unprecedented scandal like this.

And even if she were to uncover the truth, what awaited her was retribution—karma in its purest form. When she finds out, despair will consume her. She had no right to continue teaching as if nothing had happened.

“There has to be a chance to crush him…”

Let him live in fear—haunted by ghosts. Let him pay for destroying his life and dancing on the ruins.

Let him get carried away. Until the day comes when the rug is pulled out from under him.

Things were playing out perfectly for the man. Humans are vile creatures. The more famous someone is, the more others lie in wait—jealous, envious, eager for their downfall.

“A fallen hero. All it takes is one thing to bring him down.”

With all the attention he's getting, that guy can't act freely anymore.

It didn't even matter what it was—just a single scandal could be fatal.

And when it happens, it'll be far more brutal than anything the man himself endured. Admiration turns to envy, praise becomes condemnation. Human emotions flip that easily.

“That's the difference between you and me.”

Few people knew about the man's past. Nothing would show up even if someone searched online.

But he was different. His popularity was a double-edged sword—a permanent digital tattoo.

“I'll tear that status away from you.”

Just like he once did—when he cast the man into a pit of despair with no way out.

Reap what you sow. Let him taste the same agony. If he does, people will abandon him again—driving him back into the depths of loneliness.

—That was the ideal future the man dreamed of.

Suzuka Sanjoji—the foolish woman.

Yukito Kokonoe—the accursed man.

With a dim, twisted smile, the man continued to fuel his hatred—marching steadily toward ruin.

---

[Sanjoji PoV]

“Ah, wait, Inukichi! Don't pull so hard—!”

My whole body was being dragged forward by the leash pulled with such force. Lately, I'd been taking him on frequent walks, and maybe because of that, Inukichi was in an exceptionally good mood. Today too, his excitement was off the charts.

The Sanjoji family had always kept golden retrievers as pets. Inukichi's predecessor was named Inutsuna, and the one before that was Inuyasu.

From generation to generation, they'd watched over me since I was a child. Inukichi, though, was quite the clingy type and needed a lot of attention. But what all of them shared in common was that they were smart, gentle, and—above all—irreplaceable members of the family.

Maybe worried about me, Inukichi came trotting back with his tail wagging. It was a strange sensation, almost like we were connected on a deeper level. I could see why dogs were considered such beloved companions.

“Bau bau?”

“Eh? Oh, I'm still fine! I need to build stamina anyway.”

I raised my arm and flexed to show off—though it was all for show. I wasn't exactly muscular, and even though I was wearing thin sportswear, my arms were fully covered by long sleeves, so there was no way any muscle was visible.

Inukichi came closer, looking up at my face. Was he worried I might be tired? It's funny—without even using words, I could start to understand what he meant.

I gently patted Inukichi on the head, soothed by the soft, well-groomed shine of his fur.

“Phew… The air feels different at this time of day, doesn't it?”

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the fresh evening air. During the day, it was still hot enough to make you sweat, but now that early autumn had arrived, the cooler evenings were starting to carry the feel of the changing season.

Inukichi seemed to sense the seasonal shift too. During the summer, he'd been sluggish and unmotivated, but now that it was cooler, he looked forward to our walks. That earnest nature of his made him all the more adorable.

“Still, it was a pretty harsh thing to say.”

The other day, I met up with an old college friend for the first time in a while, and she told me having a pet delays your chances of marriage. It's true I'm still single, but I really don't want to believe Inukichi is the reason.

“Am I really aiming too high…?”

As I sat, dejected, Inukichi gently tapped my knee with his paw. It looked like he was trying to comfort me. At this rate, I'm going to become one of those bitter online warriors who bash men all day on social media.

I had started trying out matchmaking services, but I couldn't say it was going well. The staff would suggest matches for me, but I just couldn't feel excited about them. I understood that they were compatible with me on paper, but maybe I had some kind of resistance to the mechanical nature of it all—matching based on pure data and conditions.

By the way, when I first listed my conditions at the matchmaking agency, the female staff member immediately recommended that I withdraw. It was a disheartening result—defeat before I even entered the battlefield.

“But still… falling in love at this age feels kind of…”

To truly love someone. To genuinely fall in love with someone—that must mean holding the same kind of pure affection I feel toward Inukichi, and I understood that.

If that's the case, then the hurdle seems quite high. At the very least, if there were someone of the opposite sex who could make me feel that way, it would be…

“Inukichi? Oh, it's nothing. Come on, shall we run?”

Just as I was about to fall deep into thought, Inukichi tugged at my sleeve.

“Let's go. How about a race for once? I'm not going to lose!”

As if he understood, Inukichi took off running, and I dashed after him.

—All while pretending not to notice the feelings I kept hidden inside.