I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World
[Original – YakuMan]
[TL – MiT7]
[PR – Spades]
Chapter 3: Chronicles of Urban Legends
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Just past 5 p.m., Kamihara Shinji rose from the soft sofa, stretching lazily.
He glanced at the two boys seated at the computers, grabbed a can of soda from the coffee table, and wandered over behind them, curiosity piqued.
"What are you guys up to?"
"Looking for a photo," Kozasa Hideki replied.
"While you were napping, a really pretty girl came by wanting to join the club," Nakamura Kota said with a grin. "She's already filled out the application form. From now on, our Ghost Club will finally have a girl to liven things up."
"Isn't this just a gaming club disguised as a ghost club?" Kamihara Shinji remarked dryly. "You two sure she'll last more than two days?"
"That's why we're brushing up on our supernatural knowledge," Kozasa Hideki said. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Found it."
"Let me see!" Nakamura Kota leaned in eagerly.
Kamihara Shinji, standing behind them, peered over their shoulders. His gaze sharpened, a deep shadow flickering in his eyes.
On the screen was a stark image—so plain it was almost unsettling. The entire frame was dominated by a massive eyeball.
The white of the eye and the pupil were sharply defined, with vivid red veins threading along the edges. It looked as though a camera had been pressed right up against it to snap the shot.
The photo was cast in cold tones, shrouded in a hazy blur that only amplified its eerie vibe.
"When Chie-senpai told us that story earlier, it didn't really hit me," Kozasa Hideki said, staring at the image. "But now, seeing this photo… it's kind of creepy."
The longer he looked, the more it felt like the pupil was shifting—an oppressive, chilling sensation, as if something nearby was watching him.
Nakamura Kota nodded in agreement.
"You guys take your time. I'm heading home," Kamihara Shinji said, his expression unchanged. He patted their shoulders and walked out.
Club activities were winding down, and the sky was growing dark. He had no intention of sticking around.
"Wait, I'm heading home too!"
"Same here!"
Though they'd founded the Ghost Club, neither of them ever watched horror or thriller movies. That single glance at the photo had left them rattled.
The trio reached the school gate. Suddenly, Kozasa Hideki grinned mischievously. "Shinji, for the sake of giving Chie-senpai a good club vibe, I think you should get a haircut."
Nakamura Kota nodded emphatically. "Your bangs cover your whole face—you look like some manga protagonist. It's so bad we're too scared to get girlfriends ourselves, you know? Otherwise, Hideki and I would've had them back in first year."
Kamihara Shinji didn't respond. He ran his hands along the sides of his head, then swept his bangs back into a slicked-back style. "You sure you want me to get a haircut?" he asked flatly.
Hiss!
Kota and Hideki sucked in a sharp breath.
They waved their hands frantically, insisting he looked fine as is—no need for a haircut, just keep it that way.
As Kamihara Shinji walked off, he could still hear his two friends muttering behind him.
Stuff like, "Have I really known Shinji for a year?" "Let's cut ties with him, or he'll definitely steal our girls." "I've got a bad feeling my head's gonna turn green someday." "Gian plus Nobita plus a genius equals Shinji?"—nonsense he couldn't even begin to decipher.
Kamihara Shinji sighed, exasperated. Soon, he boarded a train to Meguro Ward.
Nearing his apartment, he noticed a crowd gathered ahead, all holding up their phones and staring skyward.
He glanced up, squinting. At the edge of a rooftop sat a girl in a red dress and red boots.
A suicide jumper?
He felt no curiosity. After a brief look, he kept walking, soon arriving at Meiko Apartments.
He didn't say "I'm home" upon entering—no habit of that.
Besides, no one was there. What, was he supposed to talk to ghosts?
Once inside, he tossed his bag aside and started making dinner. By the time he finished eating, it was past 7 p.m.
He headed to the study, pulled out a chair, and sat down. His fingers brushed the pendant around his neck.
A flash of light followed. A notebook appeared on the desk.
The notebook was wreathed in a dark aura, its surface shimmering with a murky gray glow that radiated an ominous presence.
It was the kind of thing that'd make anyone's heart race with dread.
But Kamihara Shinji was unfazed. He picked it up and flipped to the first page. Staring at the six bold characters—"Chronicles of Urban Legends"—he didn't pause, turning to the second page.
Urban Legend: 1 [The Gaze from the Cracks]
Legend Points: 38,988
Good/Evil Points: 280
Spiritual Power: 0+
Lifespan: 92 days
[Note 1: The urban legends you write will come true in reality.]
[Note 2: Those affected by the urban legends you write will benefit you, granting a certain amount of Legend Points.]
[Note 3: Those who die due to the urban legends you write will benefit you, granting a certain amount of Good/Evil Points.]
Seeing his lifespan at 92 days, Kamihara Shinji let out a small breath of relief.
A month ago, he'd crossed over from China to Tokyo, Japan. Over the past month, he'd realized this was likely a parallel world.
History remained unchanged, but the details were different.
That wasn't the key point, though.
In the modern age, young people were bombarded with all sorts of information, their nerves toughened by the onslaught. It wasn't like he'd lost his parents, he'd just crossed over. Kamihara Shinji took it in stride.
In his past life, he'd been an orphan, which gave him an edge in online arguments—he was untouchable. So, Traversing through a Parallel World was just a change of scenery. Life was the same either way.
What mattered was the notebook he'd acquired: the Chronicles of Urban Legends.
He'd found it in his previous life while researching in a library. It had fallen from a shelf, and when he picked it up to put it back, curiosity got the better of him. He flipped it open, saw "Chronicles of Urban Legends" on the first page, and then he'd crossed over.
He'd landed in the library of Sakuraaki High School.
Since then, his curiosity had all but dried up. That's why, just now, when he saw someone about to jump, he'd gone straight home. In the past, he'd have stopped to watch.
With that thought, he turned to the third page.
Unlike the black text on white paper of the first two pages, this one was black paper with blood-red writing.
The Gaze from the Cracks.
"On March 4, 2020, a photo began circulating online. This photo was bizarre, dominated entirely by a massive eyeball…"
This was the first urban legend Kamihara Shinji had written: The Gaze from the Cracks.
Anyone who saw the photo and met the legend's killing conditions would, within a short time, start seeing an eyeball peering at them from any crevice or gap.
The eyeball would stare relentlessly from all sorts of cracks, twisting their mind bit by bit until their sanity crumbled, driving them to madness and, ultimately, suicide.
The trigger? Domestic violence.
He flipped another page. The fourth wasn't blank, it recorded the experiences of those who'd encountered The Gaze from the Cracks.
Each person who'd seen the photo and been targeted by the eyeball had their story written out in text on these pages.
One page per person.