Chapter 129 No Naughty Business in the Library
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The following day, I sent Uribayashi ahead to act as my herald for my visit to the library.
Unlike last time, I made sure to give them fair warning. Call it a courtesy. Dropping in unannounced is a high-stakes duel, a burden for both the visitor and the host. While the guest is technically the one performing the inspection, the establishment also has to endure the gut-wrenching fear of being judged by a fickle, high-ranking guest.
If I were to point out a breach in social etiquette at a moment like that, it would be a disaster. If word got out at a men’s tea party – “Did you hear? That shop doesn’t even know how to host a gentleman” – they’d lose the trust of society. If things went poorly enough, they might even be forced to close.
Truth be told, I had actually seen it happen once. At one shop, a clerk was wearing the wrong kind of cufflinks. They were designed for flair, with sharp edges that could easily scratch a guest’s hand while being escorted – a total taboo when attending to the nobility. I’d whispered a warning to them privately, but from that point on, I decided to stop the unannounced visits. No need for more casualties.
I arrived at the library with a smooth, silent glide of my jinrikisha¹.
The place was massive. The gates were even bigger.
Even the librarian sweeping the garden was tall – lanky, with a high bridge to his nose and striking blue eyes. Apparently, this library has been administered for generations by families with German blood, the traditional homeland of the book, so he likely shared that lineage.
This was the only legal deposit library in the country.
The Great Japanese Empire’s entire cultural output is stored here. In its depths, it holds a staggering wealth of audiovisual material – the kind of resources that directly enrich a person’s life. Yet, it remains completely closed to the commoners, privatized entirely by the Kazoku² Peerage. Despite the fact that bookbinding isn’t exactly widespread yet, the shelves are packed with everything from government records and private publications to materials requisitioned from vassal states and secret intelligence stolen by spies. There are even research facilities attached where one can eat and sleep. There’s even a bath.
This wasn’t just a hall of knowledge; it was the first high-society social venue I had chosen to visit of my own accord.
”It’s like a powder keg for a nation built on a pile of lies,” I muttered. “No windows, heavy security… it looks more like a prison.”
An academic society of Psionic³ users – those with the gift of post-cognition – had sponsored its founding, so the library housed records of “true” history and culture in the most literal sense. The daily lives of the first Majesty were recorded here. There were even realistic paintings that clearly showed the races of Buddha, Christ, and Muhammad. This library alone held enough secrets to justify starting a third world war.
”But there aren’t any magic books. What a shame.”
Items of a mystical nature were classified by law as “dangerous materials” rather than books, so they weren’t kept here. Apparently, you won’t find any cursed grimoires with eyeballs on the cover that stare back at you. It would have been interesting if there were, though.
”Well then… here we go.”
I called out to the gardener and made my entrance. I was greeted by a librarian standing at a heavily guarded reception desk.
She was also tall – a slouching girl with glasses and a gloomy aura. Her eyes, however, lit up the moment she saw me.
The interior was a cold marriage of concrete and metal. Looking up at the ceiling felt suffocating; it gave the distinct impression that I had stepped inside a giant vault. Every breath felt like it was clogging my throat. The heaters were working, so it wasn’t cold, but no matter how high the temperature rose, I didn’t think this place would ever feel cozy.
First, the librarian led me to greet the Director. Since the Director held the power to grant entry, her permission was mandatory.
”I wonder what she’s like,” I thought. “I heard her profile, but her photos aren’t exactly in circulation, so I can’t even picture her. I only know her age. Ever since I came to the Imperial Capital, I’ve realized that age and appearance in the Peerage almost never match up.”
”Wie schön ist das… He’s been talking to himself the whole time,” the librarian whispered. “Is this… impossible? Is it no good? I’m going to die…”
”Is something wrong?” I asked.
”My apologies, sir. There will be no delay in your guidance,” she replied.
The librarian turned and began to lead me, her steps a rhythmic patter-patter. I felt a bit like a duckling following its mother.
Whenever she noticed me watching, the tall, slouching woman would glance back at me. She was a woman of distinct features: freckles, green eyes, and a noticeable Western accent.
”…Perhaps I should take the long way around,” she muttered under her breath, just barely audible.
Is she a lolicon? I really hope not.
I can’t relate to that at all. People might think I’m into kids, but honestly, I’m just an equal-opportunity lover. Which… sounds even worse when I say it out loud.
Regardless, it was rare to find a woman who didn’t even try to hide such a persistent gaze. I wondered if she was allowed to look at someone of my status that way.
”Whoa -!”
”Please, be careful, sir.”
I almost tripped on the stairs, but the librarian caught me instantly.
It was a small accident caused by her own erratic, excited stride. However, the way she could touch a member of the opposite s*x to assist them without a moment’s hesitation spoke to a high-level education.
That said, she seemed taken aback by the fact that I didn’t show even a hint of aversion to the physical contact.
”This is taking forever,” I thought. “And for a library, there’s absolutely zero ‘welcome’ vibe.”
Being made to walk this much was exhausting. The hallways were that oppressive – it felt like I was descending deeper and deeper into a bunker.
Eventually, we arrived at the Director’s office. The atmosphere changed instantly.
Stepping through the door felt like entering another world. A magnificent space stretched out before me, looking like the courtyard of a Western palace. It was like the ballroom of a fairytale castle. Colorful shelves were packed tight with books, and the terrace visible from the reading sofas was a feast for the eyes. That spot alone had light streaming in from above, as if I were standing in a forest bathed in dappled sunlight.
Five women were lounging on the sofas.
Each sat on her own. These flamboyant ladies were dressed in exquisite gowns, wearing gloves to ensure no oils touched the pages as they enjoyed their books. They held delicate monocles – the small, single-lens telescopes nobles use at the theater – peering down at the text with serene expressions.
And on the final sofa sat a man with “romance gray” hair, quietly watching over the five of them.
I didn’t quite understand the situation, but I got the feeling this was a gathering of the extreme elite.
”I don’t think I can even speak to anyone here,” I thought. “Suddenly my stomach… no, I think I’ll pretend I have an urgent ‘private matter’ to attend to.”
While I was trying to remember the most refined euphemisms I’d been taught for a bathroom break, the librarian and I approached the group.
Two of the seated women were debating either politics or the future of the nation.
”Hinomoto’s current posture is more Gesellschaft⁴ than Gemeinschaft⁵ desuwa,” a young woman with curly hair said. “The current state is simply the result of the choices made by each individual subject. I am saying that is a pre-modern Western perspective.”
A counterargument came immediately from the seat opposite her.
”I am appalled. Are you retreating to Social Contract theory after your stint with Machiavelli? Your obsession with old books has gone quite too far asobase.”
The speaker was a blonde woman in a green dress. She looked like an older sister type, with eyes like gray smoke. Her Japanese was fluent, but she was likely a foreigner. She wore a brooch that looked terrifyingly expensive.
”In the first place, the origins of society are fundamentally different between the West – where the Crown and the Church are inextricably linked – and us, who possess the Mikado⁶. His Majesty did not require military protection, nor did he seek compensation for granting authority to the rulers of the era. Is there not little point in comparing Hinomoto, where political and religious authority are naturally distinct, to the West? His Majesty let go of his actual power by his own will.”
The curly-haired woman bit back instantly.
”Der Weg ist das Ziel… ‘Letting go of power.’ That impression is nothing short of hypocritical. It was the Meiji government that hauled His Majesty out onto the main stage.”
She pressed her point.
”It is impossible for me to judge His Majesty from a lower position, but personally, I believe him to be a man of deep thought and discretion – above all, a man of peace. If the Black Ships had never arrived, he would surely still be relaxing in a villa in Kyoto to this day.”
”Meaning you think he should still be doing so now?”
”Heaven forbid. My point is that the Imperial system was only tied strongly to society starting in the Meiji era. Before that, it had almost no connection to the political or social structure of Hinomoto. There was no ‘actual power’ to let go of in the first place, and Shinto hadn’t been looked at for centuries. At times, the masses want to believe in the solidarity and conscience of the collective unconscious, but that is merely an excuse provided by the government. It is the illusion that our hearts are one under a symbolic Emperor. Even if it was the result of a colonial era seeking the unification of the Yamato people, it was we ourselves who chose the government that planted those thoughts.”
The curly-haired woman paused, looking down at her book. It was written in Russian.
”If we are to use an Imperial government as a reference, the history of modern Soviet political thought is far more suitable. Neo-Marxism allows the Emperor and the working class to harmonize quite well. Though, the direct democracy held every four years seems to be a significant burden on the citizens…”
”Are you a ‘Red,’ Lady?”
”I am an unmistakable Red. The red sun rises on a field of pure white. But if it is for the sake of Hinomoto, I would wrap myself in Gogol’s overcoat if I had to.”
”My, so it was you who was the Machiavellian all along.”
”Dummkopf…! Do not tease me.”
Both women took a sip of the black tea on their side tables. It was apparently the signal for a temporary ceasefire.
They were talking about some incredibly heavy topics. Meanwhile, I just wanted to talk about my own physical urges.
”Pardon the interruption. You have a guest,” the librarian said, finding a gap in the discussion.
”Oh?”
”My.”
”Wie süß!”
”And this child is…? A wonderful guest.”
”I could just bite him.”
”Don’t be a fool. It’s unrefined. Stop it.”
They all turned toward us with startled expressions.
Dresses, hair, and accessories – the room was a riot of color. I wondered if they’d dyed their hair using magical means; there were women with purple hair and even vibrant pink. The only thing they shared was skin so pale it was almost translucent.
It felt like I was being stared at by the contents of an overturned jewelry box. Every single one of them was a breathtaking beauty, yet each belonged to a completely different world.
The scene resembled a high-society tea party⁷ where princesses from across the globe had gathered.
”Would you be so kind as to introduce yourself to the master of this library?” the woman with the violet hair asked.
It was time for the Interview of Dread⁸. In any other shop, failing the steps of this greeting would be the equivalent of a customer failing a background check. It wasn’t difficult for me, though. I had a permanent cheat sheet tucked away in my mind. I focused, recalling page 192 of the Kazoku system liturgy⁹. The text surfaced word for word.
This is a visual rank-check based on attire. Status is measured by the sheer volume of “fluff” on their dresses. The one wearing the most is the VIP.
I immediately ignored the purple-haired woman who had spoken first.
”I’ve come from Kujukuri Town,” I said, my voice clear and energetic. “I’d like permission to use the library. I don’t have a specific title in mind, but I’ve always enjoyed browsing history books. I look forward to working with you.”
I gave a crisp bow to the foreign woman with the inexplicable hair color. It made me look like a bit of a brat, but that was the point. With boys, you can push through almost anything as long as you’ve got the spirit, even if your head is empty.
Men don’t need to be smart. It’s all about the charm.
”Thank you for such a polite introduction,” the Director replied, standing up to greet me. “I am Margarete Kirsche von Abe. I run this National Diet Library. I must apologize that your visit coincides with our little salon, but we have all been waiting for a charming little imp like you to arrive. Please, feel free to call me Gretel.”
What a cluttered-up name, I thought, nearly letting it slip out.
I’d made the right call. She was the host. If I’d botched that first step, they would’ve found some excuse to kick me out.
”Since it’s German… Fräulein Gretel. A pleasure,” I said, checking off a line I’d always wanted to use. If an Emperor had been there, I probably would’ve tried a ‘Sieg’ or a ‘Kaiser,’ too.
”Oh, my,” Gretel giggled. “Such lovely words from a true gentleman. Come, let me introduce you to my dear friends.”
I was led into the center of the circle. The exam moved to the next phase: the hierarchy check. I had to gauge their social standing by comparing their outfits – who had a lap blanket, whose chair was slightly different. The room was littered with hints. After the Director, I turned to the next most important woman.
The tension in the air thinned immediately. They realized I wasn’t just some kid; I understood the “Ceremonies of Social Etiquette.”
”Director, why don’t you stop putting on airs and give him your real name?” a woman interjected with a jab. “You left out the ‘Hanako’ in the middle. It’s Lady Margarete Hanako Kirsche von Abe, isn’t it?”
”I told you, you can call me Gretel,” the Director snapped back, her practiced cool slipping. “It’s more intimate. Don’t get it wrong.”
”But you always omit the ‘Hanako’ when you’re introducing yourself to people of status,” the woman continued. “Sincerity is key with a gentleman.”
”Oh, stop it,” another woman chirped from the next seat. “We have a guest and you’re making us look like hags. You certainly lack composure for a woman of your years.”
”Is that so? How nasty,” the other replied. “I think being energetic is a good thing – better than having a bent back. Once a lady’s ‘summer’ has passed, the knees really do start to go, don’t they?”
A catfight broke out among the women. Another woman, this one with gentle eyes, turned to me.
”Goodness, listen to them. I’m so sorry, dear,” she said. “We’re just so delighted to have a young master visit our library. We’re all just a bunch of book-loving aunts, really.”
She didn’t look like an “aunt” at all. My head was spinning. Who were these people? Were they ageless elves? I felt like I’d wandered into a witch’s manor.
They seemed to relax. I guess if they get groups of men visiting every day, they get used to the routine. You can feel the “pass/fail” sensor in the air.
Gretel – the Director with the iridescent hair and leaf-green eyes – prompted the woman next to her to stand. Both of them were Western-built, a size or two larger than most Japanese women, and their skin was like milk. They practically oozed wealth.
”This is Shiori Birgit Fukuzawa,” the Director said. “She’s remarkably talented and works in publishing. If you have questions about books, she’s your girl. Right, Bisiri?”
”A pleasure,” Bisiri said with a graceful tilt of her chin. She definitely deserved a “Best Décolleté” award.
I bowed. The self-introductions took forever. Every line was scripted, every bow timed. It was a tedious points-system. One mistake and I’d be tossed. If I didn’t have Psionic Power to cheat, I’d be in tears.
Man, I’m glad I copped a feel of that goddess’s backside earlier. Hehe. It was a damn good view, too.
”And that man is…?” I started to ask, pointing to a middle-aged man at the edge of the group.
”Oh, he’s just a toy for appearances,” Gretel said dismissively. “I forgot to put him away. Forgive me.”
Before I could blink, the man vanished. He melted away like a popsicle in the sun. No one else mentioned it, so I kept my mouth shut.
I was ushered into a seat. I provided the “blissful experience” of chatting with a male, and in exchange, I got library access. That was the contract. I felt like a lone puppy tossed into a girls’ school.
”My, what a little piglet,” one woman said, pinching my cheek. “He reminds me of my son when he was small.”
”He’s wonderful! Look at him eating with that tiny little mouth,” another chirped, shoving a cookie toward me.
I was being petted within an inch of my life.
”I can’t eat this many cookies…” I mumbled.
”Nonsense! When you’re young, it all turns into energy!”
”I can’t take it… his hands are so smooth. Even the whites of his eyes are perfectly white! If only I had a Polaroid,” a third woman cried.
I focused on the sweets to escape the reality of being “widdle-baby-ed.”
”I… I’m really full now,” I managed to gasp.
”Then have some tea! You poor thing, I wasn’t being thoughtful at all,” a woman said, pulling out a handkerchief that cost more than my house. “Now, make your mouth go ‘ahhh.’ Can you do that? You have a little crumb right there. There we go…”
I was starting to lose it. Gretel finally took pity on me, pulling my chair closer to hers.
”Everyone is so full of life, you must be overwhelmed,” Gretel whispered with an elegant smile. “Ever since we started relying on mystical objects, we’ve seen an increase in people whose appearance doesn’t match their age. But when faced with real youth, people let their inner selves slip out.”
”I don’t mind,” I replied. “Besides, if you add it all up, I’m technically forty-two. I’m from your generation, so I get it. I’d probably do the same if I were visiting my niece.”
”Oh, you do love your jokes, little one,” Gretel laughed, pressing her gloved fingers to her lips.
”It gets harder to recover from a long day once you hit our age, right? But you’re still beautiful, Gretel-oneesan desuwa.”
”Hearing that makes me feel like I’ve actually grown younger,” she giggled, her breath hitching. She clearly thought I was just being a comedian.
When I asked what they had been talking about before I arrived, Gretel’s luscious lips began to move again. I had to endure the Director’s chatter for a while if I wanted to use the library. Honestly, if I wasn’t talking, I would’ve fallen into a food coma right there.
Her voice was heavy and composed, yet it possessed a clarity reminiscent of a songbird.
”In this parlor, we hold weekly discussions on a chosen topic,” Director Gretel explained. “We bring relevant texts and present our perspectives to one another. Today’s theme is the ‘Merits and Demerits of the Meiji Government.’ We invite various scholars and intellectuals every week. Last session, we debated the validity of Neoclassicism as a reaction to the Baroque movement, my dear~desuwa.”
”Baroque… what? Neoclassical… I might have heard of that, but I can’t be sure,” I muttered.
”It is something you are feeling quite closely right now, young man. Something you are currently relying upon~desuwa.”
”I don’t really follow.”
”The chair you are sitting on~desuwa.”
The antique wood groaned beneath me, a sharp creak that seemed to reproach my ignorance.
It appeared she presided over a formal salon for the exchange of art and culture. According to her, this library was a venue for social etiquette where guests brought their favorite volumes to trade ideas. They called it the “Donkey-Head Society¹⁰“; it was formed when half-blood Kazoku system¹¹, born from seeds granted by German-system malenoble of friendly nations, naturally gathered within the Imperial Capital and eventually began to hold regular meetings. I thought it was high-society, but without any sarcasm, it was a group of the propertied class. The participants are middle-ranking Kazoku system or notable person of noblefemale who have their permanent domicile in Germany.
”I shall provide a brief, likely tedious, overview of our National Diet Library. For your sake, I’ll skip the flowery rhetoric. And I assure you, this is not intended to be a lullaby~desuwa.”
”I-I wasn’t falling asleep. My eyes were just itchy,” I lied.
”Is that so? I could’ve sworn I saw you nodding off more than once~desuwa.”
Being trapped in the body of an elementary schooler¹² meant that a full stomach led straight to drowsiness. She simply laughed at my excuse.
Up close, she was exceptionally beautiful and refined. Her look had that unique “high-brand” quality. While Duke Iwasaki, the head of the transport company, felt like an orthodox, composed princess, Gretel gave off the impression of a playful lady from another world. She looked like she’d stepped right out of a fantasy game.
Her hair was a marvel – shifting in the light like a rainbow kaleidoscope.
”This institution was not founded as a standard library, but as an annex of the Imperial University,” Gretel continued. “Currently, I am the sole owner~desuwa.”
”A personal library? So it’s yours, Gretel?” I asked.
”It was created for university research, not for the purpose of education for the subjects. I had it granted to me by a kindness person~desuwa.”
She spoke as if it were a trifle. I couldn’t help but envy someone with such powerful friends.
”Now, there is only one rule in this building. It concerns talking~desuwa.”
She made the declaration with sudden gravity.
”No talking? Don’t worry, I’ll be quiet,” I said.
Her expression brightened instantly. “No? In this institution, we encourage chatter~desuwa.”
”Wait, you want people to talk? In a library?” That sounded like a nightmare for concentration.
”Here, eloquence is gold. When you read books, whether it be the customer next to you or a librarian, please state your opinions without reserve~desuwa.”
”Even to you?”
”You are most welcome. Four eyes see more than two. Every customer is a person recognized by me. Regardless of the nobility or meanness of rank, it is decided that you shall actively exchange opinions and deepen your insight~desuwa.”
This was nothing like the library culture I knew. “So, it’s not speed-reading or cramming… it’s more like a German-style wrestling match for the mind?”
”Kampfringen!¹³ I, too, often made those of lower status do it when I was young. My father also loved it dearly~desuwa.”
She elegantly hid her lips with her palm in a gesture of elegant delight. It was a noble’s pastime. A salon that prioritized the clash of intellect.
After that, I went back to being her pet. She petted me and fed me like a lapdog. When I tried to pick cookie crumbs off their dresses to eat them – mostly as a bit of petty revenge for the doting – I got scolded, though I could tell they were secretly enjoying the mischief. In areas where formal etiquette didn’t apply, their manners were surprisingly lax.
These self-proclaimed bookworms spent half the year in Germany and half in Japan, so they filled me in on the latest trends from abroad. In Berlin, card games with human lives as the stakes, jousting, and concerts were the current craze among the nobility and the bourgeoisie. The “lives” being gambled belonged to imprisoned commoners. The way they treated immigrants was gruesome. I wished I hadn’t asked.
Then there was the famine. A severe winter had frozen the potato and buckwheat crops. When the people protested because they couldn’t even find wood to thaw their food, the “kind” nobles passed a policy to “ease the burden of housework” by reducing the steps for home cooking. In reality, they just cut off the food supply entirely. The demonstrators were torn apart by the very hands that claimed to protect them.
I was thoroughly repulsed by the depravity of these nobles by the time the small talk ended. I’d actually given up halfway through and napped face-down on a cushion. Even while I was out, I felt a warm gaze lingering on me.
”So, about permission to use the library…” I started tentatively.
Gretel clapped her hands. “Ah! We were having such a lovely time that I completely forgot. Chatting with a refined young man is such a clever way to steal one’s time. Truly wicked of you~desuwa.”
”Uh, does that mean…?”
”You have my word. No matter where the young man walks in this National Diet Library, there shall be no one to interference with it~desuwa.”
She began ticking off locations on her fingers. “The forbidden archives, the state secret wing, even the restricted section for ‘harmful’ male literature. You may browse as you please~desuwa.”
”Is it really okay for me to go into places that sound that important?”
”No? But as of this moment, you have my personal clearance~desuwa.”
She gave a little giggle. “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brings her back to life over and over. …However, I only forbid heading toward the exit too early. That would make me very sad~desuwa.”
It was a total victory. Perfect communication. Because I’d played the part of the charming guest, I had zero restricted areas. Most people’s access was tiered based on their social standing or how much they paid, but I’d bypassed it all. I had the same privileges as the Director herself. I’d even fallen asleep during our introduction, but she didn’t seem to care.
”On one condition,” Gretel added, a faint, dark smile crossing her face.
”What is it?”
”You must join me for tea like this from time to time. As long as you do, the library is yours~desuwa.”
”Sure, I can do that. The sweets are great, and the stories are… interesting.”
Our backgrounds were worlds apart, and the conversation was often disjointed, but it was certainly entertaining. If that was the only usage fee, it was a steal. A woman would likely have to forfeit her entire fortune to get this kind of access – and even then, she wouldn’t be trusted. This was a narrow back-alley open only to a male who had zero interest in weaponizing knowledge.
”Don’t misunderstand, I’m not being mean,” Gretel said, sensing my hesitation. “I speak with all my guests periodically~desuwa.”
”Like an interview?”
”That sounds so cold. Think of it as an exchange of ideas to foster our growth as members of the Peerage. You shall tell me your thoughts on the books you read. After all, the knowledge of this entire building is stored right here~desuwa.”
She tapped her temple with a finger. Maybe she just wanted someone to talk to, or maybe she was gauging my value. Either way, she seemed to genuinely enjoy hearing outside perspectives.
As the tea things were being cleared, I noticed the stooped librarian from the reception. She was busy refilling the trays, but she was still leering at me with that predatory intensity. She really had no sense of boundaries.
I wasn’t great at book reports, but since she wanted “chatter,” maybe I’d read some erotica and have a filthy discussion with this thirsty librarian. In my previous life, that was the kind of thing that would’ve gotten me fired instantly.
”Whoa!”
I was snapped out of my thoughts when the librarian’s hand nearly brushed against me.
The library’s punishment system triggered instantly.
”Ack! It hurts… Wh-what is this?!” the librarian shrieked.
As she reached for a replacement teapot, a brilliant green light coiled around her wrist. It was a phantom chain, glowing with a verdant hue, winding tighter and tighter until it bit into her skin.
With a heavy clank, her hand was pinned. The glowing chains had erupted directly from the herringbone stones of the floor. She groaned in pain, the metal rattling with every move she made, but the floor wouldn’t let her go.
”D-Director! It’s a mistake! I didn’t mean to! My hand just grazed him – it was an accident!”
”Oh? How curious. No member of my staff is permitted to speak without first binding themselves to a mystery contract. This is a strange story indeed~desuwa.”
The librarian was hyperventilating now. I looked at Gretel in shock, but she simply set her teacup down with a quiet clink.
”Do not distress yourself, my dear. This mechanism is a jailer, designed specifically to protect you. I use these mystical objects to purge any filthy sows from the premises. I must ensure that no employee with an evil heart can ever threaten a member of the Peerage~desuwa.”
The look Gretel turned on the librarian was devoid of warmth. The other elegant women at the table looked down at the girl with the same freezing contempt. They were looking at her like she was literal trash.
”Stupid…. To forget the basic etiquette of the ceremony¹⁴ and then dare to lay hands on a noble… it is an utterly unforgivable sin. Did you truly think I was blind to everything that happens within these walls?” Gretel asked.
”No… it’s just… I was trying to be so careful with the tea utensils…”
”Excuses are useless. The first time is a mistake; the second time is a choice,” Gretel replied.
Even as she spoke, the chains multiplied. Now the librarian was pinned to the ground¹⁵, her entire body bound tight. She was hopelessly entangled, unable to move so much as a finger. She let out another groan of agony.
”Since you’ve seemingly forgotten the punishment along with the crime, allow me to refresh your memory. The hand that committed the sin shall be the one to pay for it.”
”P-please… forgiveness please. It was just a mistake. It is not something worth taking it out on me.”
”The concept of amnesty does not exist in the contract. Even I cannot halt the penalty for non-performance desuwa.”
Without warning, a hexagram has been drawn on the ground.
”Ein Fehler ist inakzeptabel. Der Teufel steckt im Detail. Auf Wiedersehen.”
Gretel spoke the words with cold precision. German, perhaps?
Suddenly, a massive, shaggy figure with piercing green eyes surged from the floor. It leaned in and exhaled a single, sharp breath over the librarian’s arm.
The limb that had reached for me shattered into pieces. In its place, a shower of cookies, hard candies, and chocolate chips scattered across the floor.
It happened in a heartbeat. Her arm was gone – transformed into sweets from the shoulder down. Everything from the shoulder down has vanished.
”Now then, shall I have you do bookbinding work in the coldest cell of Auschwitz until you die? Or perhaps the job of shoveling all the snow from Siberia would be a fit desuwa, wouldn’t it? If you dislike that, I shall help you wait for Judgment Day a little ahead of schedule. Of course, with pleasure…”
Gretel rises elegantly.
And then she quietly approaches the librarian. The sweets that the arm turned into were trampled, making a sickening crunch sound.
…I couldn’t even process the horror, let alone feel relief. This wasn’t a dungeon, so how was this possible? Was that monster some kind of mystical object? She mentioned a contract – was it some variation of the Dragon God’s blood-oaths? A curse that triggers a monster’s wrath the moment a rule is broken?
The beast, crowned with ram’s horns and leathery bat wings, prepared to exhale again. I could already see myself being turned into a pile of treats.
The librarian saw it and shrieked.
”…Just kidding.”
Gretel’s icy mask shattered, replaced by a warm, radiant smile directed straight at me. She clapped her hands once, and the monster vanished. The green chains dissolved, leaving the librarian collapsed on the floor, clutching her own shoulder and sobbing in terror.
Gretel told the librarian indifferently:
”If I were you, I would leave this instant and never return. At least you still have most of your parts left other than one hand.”
”H… Hiii… help. It hurts…”
The librarian, having stood up, showed us her back and started walking unsteadily while clenching her teeth.
”Wait. This is your severance pay. Please take care of yourself.”
”Azu…. It hurts, it hurts… thank, you, very, much…”
Gretel took off a hair clip and handed it over. It was a stunning piece; sold to the right jeweler, she wouldn’t have to work for a while. The librarian took it with her remaining arm and vanished from the room while crying. Pieces of cookie crumbs that spilled from her shoulder are falling here and there.
I watched all of this from the safety of a high bookshelf. My body had naturally taken an evacuation stance. It was a natural alertness I’d acquired, and I hadn’t been very conscious of it.
”Lowly people have caused you discomfort. Vulgar Sows unfit for this library spring up from anywhere. Maintaining the dignity of the building like this and providing education to those within is also the building director’s duty alongside the selection of guests – or rather, the Kazoku system¹⁶ duty… isn’t it…. Oh, my…?”
”Don’t come over here.”
”Whatever is the matter? I’ve already removed the filthy Sow from the premises.”
A bewildered Gretel is staring at me. It was a pitiful expression that seemed to invite sympathy.
”It’s dangerous if you fall. Please come down.”
”I’m scared, so don’t come close!”
”…What is the meaning of this?”
It surprised me, too. I had more trauma packed away than I realized. My legs were locked; even if I wanted to climb down, they refused to move. The monster was gone, but I don’t want to touch the ground. Eventually, one of the other Elder Sisters had to reach up and lift me down.
”I’m sorry. I’m going home for today.”
”No? An apology is unnecessary. I am not so narrow-minded as to rob you of the joy of reading over a trivial misunderstanding. I am grateful for this encounter.”
”But…”
”Have a safe trip. Our library welcomes you. Even more so if you are a person who understands ceremony. I’ll allow you to borrow three books today. Please enjoy them to your heart’s content.”
She gave me an elegant smile, acting as if the gore and the candy had never happened. To her, this was normal. I looked at her and realized she was more alien than any monster. Another librarian walked over with a broom, casually sweeping the remains of the arm into a dustpan and dumping it in the trash.
I left the room, testing every floor tile with a trembling foot. As I walked, I thought about why she’d been fired.
The logic was clear. She broke an iron rule at a place of social etiquette. Seeing me, a noble and the building director’s guest, the librarian could not hide her lust for a male. The Elder Sisters had also been touching me plenty, but apparently between women, there is a delicate judgment standard as to whether a sticky emotion is coming out there.
The library was fully equipped with a mystery automatic punishment system that judges meanness and punishes immoral women. It seems the selling point is, ‘With this, male customers can feel at ease too desuwa.’
I don’t know the specific standards or mechanisms. Anyway, a town person failed to entertain an honored guest and almost lowered the dignity of the library. Therefore, she was given punishment and kicked out.
I understand the logic. I understand it, but….
The dismissal was too dynamic.
”The sight of you trembling on top of the shelf… it made my spine freeze.”
”I found it so pitiful I couldn’t bear to watch. I almost screamed. In my heart, ‘Please stop, it’s safe here’…. I wanted to hold him…”
With my good hearing, I can hear the chatter from afar.
”It is a shame. When you give the whip to a woman in heat, the noble guest is pleased…. You pretend to take a life, show broad mercy, and even let them take a souvenir. Then the comical Sow leaves grateful for her life despite the punishment. This is a high-quality joke in the home country. Besides, since he is a boy who has received cruel treatment from women, I thought that if he saw the mechanism of this building, he would be able to relax within the halls.”
Gretel is speaking as if making an excuse.
”You aimed too hard for earning points, Director.”
”The Director’s bad luck can’t be helped. We who draw from the Deutsch bloodline inherit their wonderful talents. That is to say, from the perspective of those from a foreign country, our talent for jokes… as the seeds of jokes.”
”I believe the punishment of tar and feathers would have been more appropriate for a Sow. Then he surely would have taken a liking to it.”
The voices of the depressed Gretel and the Elder Sisters comforting her grow small and vanish.
I started my exploration of the library. There’s no use complaining about the society structure. I’ll make up for it by looking for some interesting books. I’m sure they’ll be more laughable than a German joke.
—
Summary:
The protagonist visits the national library, a fortress of forbidden knowledge privatized by the nobility. After navigating a cold, bunker-like interior, he enters the Director’s office to find a group of elite noblewomen engaged in a high-level political debate. The protagonist becomes the sudden center of attention for these intellectual beauties.
He successfully navigates a series of ‘guest screenings’ by using a psychic cheat sheet to identify the hierarchy. However, he is quickly overwhelmed by the maternal and suffocating attention of the ageless society women present.
The protagonist secures full access to the National Diet Library by charming its director, Gretel, through a series of tea-time discussions. The cozy atmosphere is shattered when a librarian is brutally restrained by magical chains for accidentally touching the protagonist, revealing the library’s dark enforcement system. Gretel dismisses the violence as a necessary measure to protect the protagonist from ‘filthy sows.’
Gretel punishes a librarian for violating social etiquette by literally transforming her arm into candy using a magical beast. After a terrifying display of ‘discipline,’ Gretel dismisses the woman with a jewel as severance pay and tries to comfort the protagonist. The protagonist realizes the library is a gilded cage with an automated punishment system for ‘immoral’ women.
—
Trivia:
- The library staff are specifically of German descent.
- Magic books are legally ‘dangerous materials’ and kept elsewhere.
- The library uses Psionic post-cognition to record ‘true’ history.
- The protagonist previously corrected a shop’s cufflinks etiquette.
- The blonde woman in green is likely a foreigner despite fluent Japanese.
- The curly-haired woman is reading a book in Russian.
- The protagonist mentions he is mentally 42 years old.
- The Director tries to hide her middle name, ‘Hanako’.
- A male ‘toy’ literally melts away like a popsicle, suggesting a high level of magic or illusion.
- The National Diet Library is treated like a ‘witch’s manor’ or a high-society club rather than a public service.
- The protagonist is currently in the body of an elementary school student.
- Gretel’s hair is rainbow-colored/kaleidoscopic.
- The ‘Donkey-Head Society’ is specifically for half-blood nobles of German descent.
- The library encouraged talking/debate over quiet reading (German-style).
- Nobles in this world use immigrants as literal stakes in card games.
- The magical chains sprouted directly from the floor’s herringbone pattern.
- The ‘contract’ mentioned by Gretel is non-negotiable and lacks mercy.
- The monster exhales magic breath that transmutates flesh into sweets.
- Gretel considers her terrifying behavior a ‘high-quality joke’ from her home country.
- The protagonist’s trauma response is physical—his legs literally lock up.
- The librarian was grateful despite being mutilated because she received a valuable jewel.
- The library system specifically targets ‘lustful’ or ‘immoral’ female staff to protect male guests
—
Character Insight:
The protagonist struggles with his identity as a male in an elite female-dominated society, feeling intimidated by their intellect and ‘predatory’ interest. The noblewomen display a surprising level of radical political thought (Neo-Marxism) within a monarchical system.
The protagonist shows a mix of high-level social competence (via cheating) and inner crude humor, while Gretel struggles to maintain her elegant facade against her competitive peers.
Gretel displays a dual nature: she is a playful, high-class lady who dotes on the protagonist, but she views her subordinates as sub-human ‘trash.’ Her motivation seems to be the cultivation of ‘knowledgeable peers’ while ruthlessly enforcing class boundaries.
Gretel shows a sociopathic lack of empathy, viewing extreme violence as a ‘joke’ or a tool for guest satisfaction. The protagonist displays significant residual trauma from past encounters with women, leading to a freeze response even when the threat is removed.
—
Behind the Scenes:
The debate references real sociopolitical theories (Ferdinand Tönnies’ Gemeinschaft and Gesellschaft) to contrast traditional communal bonds with modern civil society.
The ‘Kazoku system’ likely refers to a social hierarchy or caste system within the story world’s laws.
The term ‘Kampfringen’ refers to historical German wrestling, used here as a metaphor for intellectual combat. The ‘National Diet Library’ exists in reality, but its portrayal here as a private aristocratic salon is a dark fictional subversion.
The author uses German folklore tropes (Krampus-like monsters, Gretel) to create an atmosphere of ‘Grimm’ horror within a refined setting.
—
TL Notes:
Notes:
• Uribayashi – High-end noble caretaker with decades of common sense and a sharp tongue.
• Margarete – Margarete Hanako Kirsche von Abe. Director of the National Diet Library. A woman with Western features, milk-like skin, iridescent/mystical hair that changes color, and leaf-green eyes. Wears a vivid, fluffy dress. Goes by ‘Gretel’.
• Gretel – Director and owner of the National Diet Library. A playful lady with an atmosphere of an ‘another world’ noble. Features rainbow-colored kaleidoscope hair. Refined, composed, but capable of extreme coldness toward subordinates. She possesses the authority to trigger the library’s ‘contract’ and automatic punishment systems.
• Shiori – Shiori Birgit Fukuzawa. An employee in the publishing industry. Described as remarkably talented and young. Has Western-style features, a large build, and a beautiful décolleté. Nicknamed ‘Bisiri’.
• Psionic Power – Mental energy concept in Chapter 35’s lecture. Trash-san teaches it to strengthen the protagonist’s mind after dungeon ordeals.
• Duke Iwasaki – A high-ranking noble female who manages the scouting venue and zaibatsu interests. The head of a transport company described as a composed, orthodox Imperial Princess type.
• Iwasaki – Tokumasa Iwasaki. Friendly male student from Nokogiriyama, Tateyama Town. Sun-darkened skin, approachable.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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