Pathway to Japanese Literature

Author: Miyazawa Kenji

I. Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem's Independence [The first few pages of the manuscript had been lost]. Indeed, before O-'Kire'-sama appeared, the eastern sky would fill with amber beer. Yet when summer came, all the supernatural creatures began to stir. For some reason [seventeen characters missing], even the supernatural wheat failed to yield a single grain, and though a large [six characters missing] bloomed, not one seed came to fruition. Even when autumn arrived, [seven characters missing] even the chestnut trees bore nothing but green burrs, [eight characters missing] and famine set in.

The year came to an end, but when spring arrived next, the famine had grown terribly severe. One day, Nenem’s father—a green supernatural creature of the forest—had been cradling his head in endless contemplation when he suddenly rose to his feet. "I’m going to the forest to find something," he said while staggering out of the house—and after that, no matter how long they waited, he never returned. Indeed, he had gone off to the heaven of the supernatural world.

Nenem's mother kept watch every day and did nothing but sigh, until one day she said to Nenem and Mamimi,

"I'm going to the field to find something," she said while staggering out of the house—and just like that, no matter how long they waited, she never returned. Indeed, their mother too had been summoned to that heaven and departed. Nenem was left trembling violently from cold and hunger with only little Mamimi by his side.

Then one day, from the doorway,

“Well, good day. I have come to save this region from famine. Now, eat whatever you like,” declared a tall gentleman with sharp eyes as he entered carrying a large basket filled with Wappuru raisin bread and an abundance of other delicacies.

The two practically snatched the basket from him and munched ravenously, eating their fill before finally saying, “Thank you, Mister. Thank you so much, really.”

The man had been watching them eat intently, his eyes gleaming sharply, and now at last he spoke. “You’re such good little children. "But being good children alone won’t get you anywhere. “Come with me. “I’ll take you to a nice place. "Admittedly, the boy is strong, and his knee and heel bones seem to have set—can’t be helped. But hey, you girl. “Why don’t you come to Mister’s place? “I’ll feed you grape bread all day long.”

Neither Nenem nor Mamimi gave any response, but the man suddenly put Mamimi into the sweets basket and—

“Oh, hurry-hurry, oh, hurry-hurry,” he said while abruptly starting to rush out of the house like wind.

Mamimi, utterly bewildered and looking around frantically [due to the missing character], had no idea what was happening; only after being carried out through the doorway did she finally burst into tears—and Nenem,

"Thief! Thief!" he cried out while chasing after him, but by then the man had already passed through the forest and was nothing more than a fleeting glimpse racing across the distant yellow field. Mamimi's voice had become nothing but a small white triangular light that seeped into Nenem's chest. Nenem wept and shouted as he wandered aimlessly through the forest until finally exhausted, he collapsed with a thud. He had no idea how many days had passed since then.

Nenem suddenly opened his eyes. Right above his head, the supernatural chestnut tree was huffing out steam in soft puffs. Two iron ladders hung from either side of its trunk, where two men climbed while busily engaged in what looked like hauling ropes and casting nets. When Nenem sat up to look, O-'Kire'-sama had fully returned to their usual appearance—moreover, they gleamed all over as if they'd freshly shaved their face that very morning.

Moreover, the withered grass was steaming warmly, and supernatural bracken had begun sprouting in trembling clusters. Nenem dashed over and devoured it ravenously. Then, an unnervingly flat voice sounded directly above Nenem's head.

“Hey. Kid. Finally woke up, huh? You still think this is the famine? It’ll be summer soon. How about giving me a hand?” When Nenem looked, it was indeed none other than the truly splendid supernatural-creature gentleman. He wore a coat fashioned from seashells and stood holding a water pipe in one hand. “Mister. So the famine’s already over? What kind of help do you need me to do?” “Kelp harvesting.” “You can harvest kelp here?” “Of course you can. Look. They’re working hard enough as it is.”

Indeed, the two men from earlier seemed to be desperately throwing and hauling nets, but not a single net or thread was visible. “Can you even harvest kelp with that?” “So you’re asking if we can harvest kelp with that?” “What a disagreeable child.” “Hey, don’t jinx it!” “Why build a factory where you can’t even harvest anything?” “It can too.” “Actually, aren’t I and plenty of others making our living off it right now?”

Nenem finally said in a hoarse voice, “Is that so, Mister?” “Moreover, this forest is entirely mine now, so I’ve long forbidden anyone from casually taking bracken like you did earlier!”

Nenem felt intensely uncomfortable. The gentleman spoke again. "You'll help me with my work." "I'll pay you a dollar a day." "If you refuse, you won't eat."

Nenem was about to burst into tears but finally managed to restrain himself and said. “Mister. Then I’ll help. But why do you harvest kelp?”

“Hmph.” “Of course I’ll tell you that.” “Alright, there!” The Gentleman took out something like the ribs of a Western umbrella folded up small from his pocket.

“Listen up.” “If you extend this, it becomes a ladder for children to use.” “Got that?” “There!”

The Gentleman gradually extended it. Before long, a ladder about ten meters long—as thin and delicate as if crafted from silk thread—was completed.

“Listen up. “This here,” “You’ll hang this on that chestnut tree.” “Like that, see?” The Gentleman pointed at the two men from earlier. The two men kept casting and hauling invisible nets and threads into the pale blue sky. The Gentleman hung the ladder on the chestnut tree. “Listen up. “This time you’re going to climb this.” “There, climb up.”

Nenem reluctantly grabbed hold of the ladder and began climbing, but the rungs were as thin as wire, digging into his hands and feet until they seemed about to snap off.

“Keep climbing higher.” “Higher.” “There, higher!” Down below, The Gentleman was shouting. Nenem climbed completely to the top. The top of the chestnut tree was truly, bitterly cold. When he noticed this and looked, a sinister net—as if spun from spider silk—swayed unsteadily from his own hands, stretching all the way into the blue sky. The swaying grew increasingly violent, and Nenem even came perilously close to falling down.

“There! There was a net, right? “Throw that into the sky! “Your hands will shake unsteadily. “That’s because sharks and rays in the wind are colliding with it. “Well, you’re trembling. “You spineless brat. “Throw it, throw it. “There! Throw it!”

Nenem felt an indescribably unpleasant feeling. But reluctantly, with all his strength, he hauled it in and hurled it upward as far as he could. Then his eyes spun wildly, and even the well-pleased gentleman appeared like a black clod of earth before he plummeted down from the ladder's peak. Nenem thought he had died, then believed his ears had been torn off. For there stood Nenem properly on the ground while The Gentleman stood gripping his ears and growling angrily.

“You’re such a gutless wretch. “What a limp noodle! “If I hadn’t grabbed your ears and stopped you just now, your head would’ve burst open with a pop by this time. “I’m meant to be your great benefactor. “You’ll show no disrespect from now on. “Now then—climb. “You climb up. “When evening comes, I’ll have food sent up. “When night falls, I’ll toss you a quilted vest too. “Go on—up you go.”

“When evening comes, I’ll come back down, right?”

“No.” “As if that would ever happen!” “Anyway, you’ve got to get that kelp—no excuses.” “Let me see that net.”

The Gentleman hauled in the net clinging to Nenem’s hands and examined its contents. Near the far end of the net clung a brown, slimy patch roughly an inch square. The Gentleman took it. "Hmph. Is this all there is?" he said with a slight laugh. And Nenem climbed the ladder once more. Finally reaching the top, he threw the net into the sky with all his might. Then, stamping his quivering feet to steady them, he pulled in the net and looked, but there was nothing inside at all.

“Throw it properly! Don’t slack off!” Down below, The Gentleman shouted. Nenem threw it again there. Still, there was nothing. He threw again. Still, no kelp was caught.

Exhausted and utterly spent, Nenem no longer cared about anything and tried to climb down. Then, to his astonishment, the ladder was gone. And as evening seemed to have fallen, the supernatural sky turned green, and a peculiar supernatural bread floated unsteadily up from below to stop before Nenem.

There was no trace or form of where The Gentleman had gone. The two people on the opposite tree also appeared to be eating bread while dejectedly bowing their heads and thinking. The iron ladder was no longer visible on that tree either.

Nenem also reluctantly began to chew the supernatural bread.

At that moment, The Gentleman arrived, and

“Now then, once you’ve finished eating, all of you hurry up and cast your nets! I won’t give you any cotton-padded vests until you’ve harvested a single kin of kelp!” he bellowed.

Nenem shouted.

“Mister! I can’t go on anymore! Let me down!”

The Gentleman shouted from below.

“What was that? “So you eat up all your bread and then demand to come down? “Don’t get so selfish.” “But I can’t move anymore!”

"I see. In that case, rest until you can move," said The Gentleman. Nenem sat down at the very top of the chestnut tree and rested thoroughly.

At that moment, the chestnut tree puffed out steam with a soft hiss, so Nenem felt slightly warmed and somewhat relieved. There, mustering his strength once more, he threw the net into the sky. In the sky, the stars were just beginning to glow blue. However, this time the net was truly heavy. When Nenem joyfully hauled it in and looked, there indeed was an enormous sheet of kelp that had fluttered into the net. Nenem, rejoicing,

“Mister! Here goes! I’m throwing it! I got some!” As he said this, he dropped it down. “Well done, well done. Good. Here’s your cotton-padded vest.”

The vest floated unsteadily up.

Nenem hurriedly put it on and said. “Mister.” “Will you give me a dollar?”

The Gentleman spoke from within the pale yellow haze below. “Yeah. I’ll give you a dollar. But remember, the bread costs a dollar a day. If you harvest over ten kin of kelp in a day, I’ll buy any extra at ten cents per kin. That extra’s your profit. You can save it up and I’ll pay you anytime. But if you don’t reach ten kin, whatever’s missing comes out of your pocket. I’ll keep that difference set aside.” Nenem was truly disappointed. The two men on the opposite tree no longer seemed to be there, no matter how much one peered through the starlight. They must have vanished because the work was simply too grueling. Now, Nenem resolved. From then on, day and night, with only the chestnut tree’s steam, monster bread, invisible nets, The Gentleman, and kelp as his companions, he continued this work for a full ten years. Among these adversaries, the bread and kelp were foremost. The first four years were day after day of nothing but debt; the next five years paid it off; and in the final three months, money finally accumulated. There, he descended below, pocketed the accumulated three hundred dollars, and set out walking toward the town in the supernatural world.

II. Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem's Rise

Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem emerged from the forest while rubbing his persistently aching knees—the result of standing upright in a tree for ten years straight. At the forest's edge stood a small general store; Nenem entered and purchased a coal-black coat and pair of trousers. Then, hastily dressing himself, he began to think.

"I sure want to study something and become a clerk." "Just thinking about things like throwing and hauling makes my life feel shorter." "Alright, I’ll definitely become a clerk!"

When Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem paid and was leaving the store, he caught a glimpse of his own figure reflected in the mirror across the way. The garment was black as night, his crimped red hair hung thickly from head to shoulders, and his bright blue eyes shone so splendidly that he doubted it was himself.

Nenem, overjoyed, whistled and ran about thirty knots in a single breath.

“How much farther is it to Hamumumumumumumune City?” asked Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem of a yellow shadow-mage supernatural creature that came shambling toward him from ahead.

“Let me see. “Step over here for a moment.” The yellow ghost pinched the edge of Nenem’s square sleeve, led him to the base of a supernatural apple tree, aligned one of its own feet with the tree’s roots, and said. “Stretch out one leg to here as well.” When Nenem hurriedly did as instructed, the yellow ghost bent down, closed one eye, inspected whether his toes were properly aligned with the apple tree roots, and then spoke.

“Listen—the entrance to Hamumumumumumumune City lies exactly six knots and six chains from the tips of your feet here. Do take care on your journey.” With that, it spun about and departed.

Nenem bowed politely from behind him,

“Ah, thank you very much. If it is six knots and six chains, then if I walk one knot and one chain each hour, I can arrive in six hours. If I walk three knots and three chains each hour, I can arrive in two hours. I’ve got it all figured out—there’s nothing more joyful than this,” he said while bowing once more. Although his red hair clattered down, in truth the yellow ghost seemed to have already entered far into the heat-haze-shimmering fields of the supernatural world, leaving neither shadow nor form.

At that point, Nenem started walking again.

Then once more from ahead approached a mouse-gray man who glinted harshly, wearing red rubber boots. And he had been staring intently at Nenem when suddenly he ran up to his side, firmly grasped Nenem’s right wrist, and said.

“Hey. You’ve come out here ’cause you got fed up with kelp gathering in the forest—what’s your aim now?”

Nenem, thinking this person must surely be a detective, stiffened and answered.

“Yes. My objective is to become a clerk.” Then the man twisted his short beard with his left hand, pondered briefly, and said: “Ah-ha, Clerk’s your aim, eh? “So that’s how it is. “You ate nothing but too much monster bread in the forest, didn’t you.” Nenem, struck right on target, flustered and scratched his head with his left hand.

“Yes, actually, I believe I may have eaten a bit too much.” “I knew it. It must be exactly as I thought. Very well. I have thoroughly understood your status and thoughts. Go. I am a detective of Mumune City.”

Nenem finally felt relieved there, bowed politely, and once more headed toward the town. After exactly one hour and six minutes, when he had walked three knots and three chains, Nenem encountered a farmer’s wife supernatural creature. That person approached from afar with a thoroughly mystified expression but finally burst into tears and came running up.

“Oh, Kueku! You’ve finally come back, haven’t you? Oh, have you forgotten me? Oh, how heartless you are!” Nenem was somewhat taken aback, but upon realizing—Ah!—this must be a case of mistaken identity, he hurriedly said: “No, ma’am. I am not someone called Kueku. I am called Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem.”

Then, it seemed the orange-hued female supernatural creature had finally realized her mistake, for she abruptly stopped her crying face and said: “I must apologize for this dreadful blunder. Your bearing looks so much like my son’s.”

“No. Think nothing of it. I am now venturing into Mumune City for the first time.” “Oh, is that so? My son was exactly your age too. Oh, from the curl of your hair to the sparkle of your ears—everything about you is exactly alike. And oh—with those slug-like supernatural creature-soft feet of yours shod in hard steel sandals—what noble purpose brings you here? Oh, my son must be wandering somewhere in sandals like these even now—sob, sob, sob, sob,” the farmer’s wife supernatural creature burst into tears. Nenem, at a loss,

“Now, ma’am. Your son must surely have become a clerk somewhere by now. He must send for you soon without fail. There’s no need to weep so bitterly. I must take my leave now, as I’m pressed for time,” he said, leaving behind a clarinet-like sniffle as he hurried away from that place.

Then, fifteen minutes later, Nenem had come to within three chains of Mumune City. There, Nenem completely straightened his hair, then washed his face in the mercury stream by the roadside, and made preparations to enter the city. Then, calming his mind as much as possible and gradually approaching the city, Nenem could already feel—as one would expect—the aura of the supernatural world’s capital. A deep, resonant drone rose from the earth—[several pages of manuscript lost]—

“Class is in session here! You’re making a racket! If you have business then get inside!” he bellowed, making the school building shudder violently.

Nenem mustered his resolve there and went up to the second floor as quietly as possible before entering the classroom. The classroom was as vast as a field. Students of various shapes—chili peppers, mortars, scissors, red and white—truly diverse supernatural creatures were packed to the brim. At the far end hung a blackboard as large as a cliff, where the teacher supernatural creature—standing over 100 shaku tall—was conducting his lecture.

“Now then, if chlorine were a red-colored substance, this would be the most evident absurdity. “It must be yellow.” “Thus, the matter of yellow is quite an important thing.” “The character for ‘yellow’ is written like this.”

The teacher supernatural creature faced the blackboard and wrote about three hundred instances of the character for "yellow" all at once using his hands, nose, mouth, elbows, collars, hair, and whatever else he could muster. The students all hurriedly filled their notebooks with the character for "yellow," but none could manage it with anywhere near the teacher’s skill. Nenem quietly took a seat at the very back and softly asked the red-and-white mottled supernatural creature student beside him: “What, you didn’t know? That’s Dr. Fūfībō. Chemistry.”

“You didn’t know?” “Dr. Fūfībō.” “Chemistry,” answered the red-and-white mottled supernatural creature student with a contemptuous gleam in his eyes. “Oh, I see.” “This teacher?” “He’s quite a famous person, isn’t he?” Nenem murmured softly while pulling out a pencil and notebook from his pocket and beginning to take notes.

At that moment, the classroom lights flashed on. It was already evening. Dr. Fūfībō was shouting at the front.

"Then why does the green color become distinct in the evening? "Undoubtedly, this is due to the phenomenon of Purukīinīi." “Purukīinīi is written like this.”

Dr. Fūfībō wrote about three hundred earthworm-like horizontal characters all at once. Nenem also wrote furiously. Then Dr. Fūfībō suddenly spread his hands wide. “Verily! The nebulae that hang dense in heaven above, and the vague supernatural laws that dwell upon earth below—these indeed govern the cosmos,” he declared while leaping onto the tabletop, crossing his arms tightly, pursing his lips, and surveying his surroundings with piercing intensity.

The students were all excited,

“Bravo!” “Dr. Fūfībō!” “Bravo!” they exclaimed, then snapped their notebooks shut with a clatter. Nenem too was completely engrossed,

“Bravo!” he exclaimed, pursing his lips tightly and resolutely as if cementing a decision. At this moment, Dr. Fūfībō finally permitted himself a faint smile and lowered his voice by one register before speaking.

“Everyone. We shall now immediately commence the graduation examinations. Please pass before me one by one,” he said. The students lined up one by one there, and while passing before the professor, opened their notebooks to show him. The professor would take a brief look, then ask one or two questions, then write characters like 「及」, 「落」, 「同情及」, or 「退校」 on their backs with white chalk.

While being written upon, the students looked thoroughly ticklish as they hunched their necks. The students who had been written upon indeed appeared deeply concerned; quietly hunching their shoulders, they would go out to the corridor, have their friends read the markings, and react with either joy or tears. In rapid succession, the examinations concluded, until at last only Nenem remained. When Nenem presented his notebook, Dr. Fūfībō gave such an enormous yawn that the notebook was slurped up into the professor. The professor didn’t seem particularly concerned by this; he swallowed it with a gulp and said:

“Very well.” “The notebook is exceptionally well done.” “Then answer the questions.” “How many types of smoke emerge from chimneys?” “There are four types.” “If I may state the types, they are black, white, blue, and colorless.” “Mhm.” “The fact that you noticed colorless smoke is truly impressive.” “Then what about their shapes?” “When there is no wind, it forms a vertical rod; when the wind is strong, a horizontal rod; otherwise, shapes like earthworms.” “When there is very little smoke, it also takes on the shape of a corkscrew.”

“Very well.” “You have taken first place in today’s examination.” “If you have any wishes, state them.”

“I want to become a clerk.” “I see.” “Very well.” “I’ll write the address on my business card for you, so go there immediately tonight.” As Nenem waited expecting to receive a business card, Dr. Fūfībō abruptly grabbed fresh chalk and wrote “Sem 22” across his chest. Nenem joyfully bowed with meticulous courtesy and retreated one step from the professor—whereupon Dr. Fūfībō began speaking in a lowered tone—

“The straw omelet must be ready by now,” he muttered, tossing the chalk fragments and lecture drafts on the table into his leather briefcase, tucked it under his arm, and flew out through the window he had earlier emerged from—whoosh—aiming for the black house far in the distance. And Nenem clearly saw Dr. Fūfībō safely arrive at the drying platform in the yellow dusk thick with anticipation and enter the house.

Thereupon, Nenem exited the classroom and descended the ladder stairs, where he found a truly great number of students weeping. Truly, if one were to fail 3,653 times—that is, over ten years when including leap years—without a single Sunday or summer break, how could anyone keep from crying? However, Nenem was entirely different from that. He exited the university gate energetically, pointed to the address on his chest, and asked a passing jellyfish-like supernatural creature how to get there.

Then that supernatural creature bowed deeply and courteously, “Yes. That is the esteemed residence of the Chief Judge of the World. If you proceed about two chains from here, there will be a large house made of packed clay. You will surely recognize it at once. I humbly beg your esteemed patronage as well,” he said, bowing courteously once more. Nenem thereupon proceeded toward that direction at a speed of one knot and one chain per hour. Immediately, on the right side of the road, that large clay-built house stood imposingly, with a sign reading "Official Residence of the Chief Judge of the World" hung upon it.

“Excuse me. Excuse me,” said Nenem while scratching his red hair. Then from inside the house came pat-pat-pat-pat—a great many supernatural creatures emerging in droves.

They all wore jet-black long garments and performed respectful bows. “I have come through an introduction from Dr. Fūfībō of the university, but might I have a brief audience with the Chief Judge of the World?”

Then they all said in unison. "That would be you." "You are the Chief Judge." "I see. So that's how it is. Then what might all of you be?" "We are your subordinates." "Judges, prosecutors, and such."

"I see." "In that case, I am the master here, then." “That is correct, Your Honor.” And so it was that Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem became Chief Judge of the World in one fell swoop, surrounded by all, and plonked himself down on the sponge-crafted chair in the judge’s chamber. Thereupon, one of the judges reverently addressed him. "There are two cases scheduled for trial tonight, but how would Your Honor wish to proceed? Might Your Honor perhaps be fatigued?"

“No, that’s fine. I will proceed. However, what is the trial’s approach?” “Yes. The judicial policy is that we wish for the people of this world to refrain from appearing in the other world as much as possible.”

“Understood.” “Then I will proceed immediately.” Nenem donned a pure white curly wig and a long black garment, then proceeded to the courtroom. About thirty subordinates were already seated.

Nenem sat in the highest position at the front. From the small door in the far corner, dragged out by supernatural creature guards, emerged a tall, sharp-eyed grey figure holding a broom in one hand. A prosecutor read out the documents in a loud voice. “Zashikiwarashi. Twenty-two years old. On Atsureki 31st Year, February 7th, at Omote, Japan—21st Household of Seto, Aosasa Village, Kamihei District, Iwate Prefecture—within the eight-tatami mat room of Itō Manta’s residence, [the defendant] did unlawfully appear without cause or authorization, thereby causing Manta’s eldest son Chita, aged eight years, to lose consciousness.”

“Very well. Understood,” said Chief Judge Nenem. “Does the accused confirm that name, age, and particulars correspond exactly as stated?” “There is no discrepancy.”

“Does the accused confirm that on Atsureki 31st Year, February 7th, they did indeed appear without cause or authorization in the eight-tatami mat room at the residence of Itō Manta—exactly as stated?” “There is absolutely no discrepancy.”

“What did you do after appearing?” “I was sweeping the parlor with swishing motions.” “For what purpose did you sweep?” “To let in fresh air.” “Very well. That aspect indeed serves public welfare. As an official, I express profound sympathy. However, given that you unlawfully appeared in an unoccupied parlor and produced broom sounds, thereby startling a child who peeked inside and caused said child to lose consciousness, this constitutes a clear violation of the Appearance Prohibition Act. Therefore—effective today—you are hereby sentenced to seven days of street cleaning throughout Mumune City. Henceforth, without permission from the Supernatural World Chief, you shall not recklessly appear on the other side.”

“Understood. Thank you.” “That’s a truly excellent ruling.” “Truly, this new Chief is remarkable,” the judges whispered to one another. Zashikiwarashi bowed and withdrew in apparent satisfaction. Next appeared a supernatural creature with its face fully painted in russet-brown and white clay patterns, its mouth slit to the ears, chest and legs bare, wearing a thick straw mat-like garment around its waist. A judge began reciting the court documents.

“Uuuei. “Thirty-five years old.” “On Atsureki 31st Year, July 1st Night, at Omote, Africa—within a clearing in the forest of Kongoō—the defendant did unlawfully appear without cause or authorization, thereby causing local people engaged in dance to scatter in terror.”

“Very well, understood,” said Nenem. “Is the name, age, and other information correct as stated?” “Yes. “That is correct.” “Does the accused confirm beyond doubt that on the night of July 1st in Atsureki 31st Year, within a forest clearing at Kongoō in Africa, they did unlawfully appear without cause or authorization—thereby scattering in terror a group who were at that very moment making merry through song and dance beneath the moonlight—exactly as stated?” “That is absolutely correct.” “Very well. “For what purpose did you appear? “Though your unauthorized appearance has already been legally established without cause, we shall now inquire into your underlying intent.”

“Yes, sir.” “The truth is, it was simply too entertaining.” “Yes, sir.” “I deeply apologize.” “It was truly too amusing.” “Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit, ribbit-ribbit, ribbit, ribbit.”

“Step back.”

“Yes, sir.” “I sincerely apologize.” “I am deeply contrite.”

“Hmm. You stand convicted of the most clear-cut case of unauthorized appearance.” “Therefore—commencing tomorrow—you are hereby sentenced to twenty-two days of patrol duty along Mussen Highway.” “From this moment forth, without explicit permission from the Supernatural World Chief Administrator, you shall not willfully manifest yourself on that side!”

“Understood.” “Thank you very much.” That supernatural creature also withdrew.

“That’s a truly exemplary judgment.” “An excellent verdict,” everyone whispered to one another.

At that moment, the window opposite clattered open. "How about that? He makes a fine Chief Judge, doesn’t he? Did you all admire him?" said a voice. That was the gray, one-meter-long face of Dr. Fūfībō from earlier. "Bravo! Dr. Fūfībō! Bravo!" shouted all the judges and prosecutors. By then, Dr. Fūfībō’s face had already vanished, and the window clattered shut.

Thereupon, Nenem returned to his room and removed his white curly-haired wig. Then he went to sleep.

The rest was for tomorrow.

III. Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem's Inspection

Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem, having become Chief Judge of the Supernatural World, woke at six o'clock the next morning and promptly summoned one prosecutor subordinate.

“What time are today’s trial proceedings scheduled to commence?” “Today again, there are only two cases scheduled from seven o’clock in the evening.”

“I see.” “Very well.” “Then at eight o’clock this morning, we shall present our formal greetings to the World Chief.” “Immediately thereafter comes the inspection.” “All of you—make your preparations!”

“Understood.” Thereupon, Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem made do with a light breakfast of a handful of oats and two liters of bean broth, then set off for the Supernatural World Chief’s official residence accompanied by thirty subordinates.

The Supernatural World Chief was already seated and waiting at the front of the grand hall. The Supernatural World Chief was a Mesozoic agate tree standing 190 shaku tall.

Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem reverently proceeded forward, placed one knee on the floor, and lowered his head. “Are you Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem, Chief Judge?” “That is indeed so. I humbly swear eternal fealty.” “Right. Handle it properly. I’ve already heard about last night’s trial. And they say you’re heading out for inspection this morning.”

“Yes. “I am obliged.”

“Very well.” “Make sure you handle it properly.”

“Understood.”

Thereupon, Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem once again reverently paid his respects to the Supernatural World Chief, stepped back, and withdrew. The thirty subordinates were overjoyed at the Supernatural World Chief's favorable outcome.

Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem, also in excellent spirits, then began his inspection of the town.

The bustling prosperity of Hamumunmunmunmun-Mumune City in the Supernatural World remained unchanged even today. Hundreds of millions of supernatural creatures passed by and passed through, met and passed, emerged and vanished, associated and merged, reappeared and advanced—it was truly a most splendid sight indeed. Nenem, even now, found himself deeply impressed. At that moment, from the opposite direction came a car bearing a small red flag, beating out a tot-tentoten-tenten rhythm on an instrument called a Charinel, inching its way toward them bit by bit. Spectator supernatural creatures gathered around it like a veritable red mountain.

As Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem walked along and happened to glance over, he saw that the red flag bore white-dyed characters reading "Fukujiro." Beside it stood a terrifying child-like figure about three shaku tall—its face wrinkled like an old man's with an especially prominent nose measuring roughly one shaku—wearing small half-pants. This creature was receiving about five matches bearing the "Fukujiro Brand" trademark from a black, rigid supernatural being that pulled the cart. As Nenem wondered what it would do and kept watching more closely, the unpleasant creature toddled off with the matches.

The crowd of supernatural creatures resembling a red mountain noisily followed along after it. When a young supernatural creature, pushed from behind, accidentally brushed against that unpleasant thing, the Fukujiro-branded creature whirled around and suddenly slapped the young creature's cheek with a sharp crack.

Then the unpleasant creature went to the hardware store across the way. That hardware store sold a complete set of supernatural creature supplies—from toothbrushes and toothpicks for supernatural creatures to hand towels, work pants, aprons, and everything in between.

As Fukujiro toddled in, the hardware store proprietress tried to flee in fear. Though the proprietress herself had a face like a mythical tapir and was a proper supernatural creature, the sight of the small, shriveled Fukujiro left her utterly terrified. “Proprietress. Buy me Fukujiro matches.” The proprietress finally composed herself and said.

“How much...? For one.” “For one.” “Ten yen.” The proprietress looked about to burst into tears.

“Buy them.” “If you don’t buy them, I’ll do a dance.” “I’ll buy them, I’ll buy them!” “I don’t need the dance.” “Here, ten yen.” The proprietress turned pale and, trembling, gathered money from the cash box to produce ten yen.

“Thank you.” With a “Hmph,” that unpleasant creature exited the store.

And this time, the unpleasant creature entered the neighboring supernatural liquor store. The spectators noisily followed along. The bald-headed old man supernatural creature from the liquor store also produced ten yen while trembling.

The next shop was called Tan-ya, and here too the proprietor, his yellow face turning green and trembling, bought one match for ten yen.

“This won’t do.” “Utterly outrageous.” “Allowing such an unpleasant creature to roam freely through town brings disgrace upon me.” “Just bind him already!” Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem commanded his subordinate prosecutor. A prosecutor immediately advanced and bound that unpleasant creature—who had just emerged from the Tan-ya shop—in ten successive layers of restraints. Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem pushed through the crowd, stepped forward, and declared.

“You there! Taking advantage of your own repulsive face and form, you go around forcing house after house to buy one-sen matches for ten yen each. You scoundrel. You’re going to prison—you’d better believe it.”

Then that unpleasant creature began to cry.

“Officer! That’s too cruel! No matter how much money I receive, I don’t take even a single sen for myself! The master takes it all away! Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive me!”

Nenem said. “I see. So you’re just being dragged around every day to make money for them, nothing more.” “That’s right! That’s exactly it!” “He calls me ‘Master,’ yet does nothing but put me through hell.” “He doesn’t even give me proper meals.” “Arrest the master quickly!” “Quickly, quickly!” This time, that unpleasant creature suddenly regained vigor.

And so,

“Arrest the one by that cart,” Nenem said. Three or so policemen who had just arrived flew over and swiftly bound the black, rigid supernatural creature that had been sitting plopped down on the cart. Nenem went that way together with the unpleasant creature.

“You there! You’re exploiting this pitiful cripple to sell one-sen matches for ten yen each! Now you’re coming to prison!” The master looked ready to burst into tears as he rattled out:

“Your Honor. “That’s too unreasonable, I tell ya!” "I walk around all day but only get just enough to eat." “The master takes all the rest.”

“Hmph, I see.” “Where is that master?” “He’s over there.”

“Which one?”

“The person at that corner looking up at the sky and yawning.” “Very well. Arrest that one!” The man at the corner, having been bound and startled, flapped his mouth open and closed. Nenem brought two people with him, walked over there, and said.

“You’re a scoundrel.” “You’ve no right to complain.” “Throw him in prison!”

“This is cruel!” “What on earth is happening?” “Ah, so Fukujiro and Tan'ichi have been bound too!” “As for that matter, I was merely following the supervisor’s orders like this and watching over the cart.” “I don’t receive even a single sen beyond my daily wage of thirty sen.”

“Hmph. “This was truly a despicable case.” “Now tell me where your supervisor is.”

“That person standing under the telegraph pole over there, dozing off.”

“I see.” “Very well.” “Bind the one under that telegraph pole over there.” The police officers and prosecutors immediately started to rush off. At that moment, when Nenem happened to look further ahead, he saw stretching on and on still more figures—spaced about five-ken intervals apart—yawning, crossing their arms, or standing vacantly. Thereupon Nenem said.

“Wait a moment.” “There appear to be many more supervisors ahead.” “Very well.” “Bind them all in sequence.” “Don’t let the last one escape.” “Now move!”

About ten prosecutors and about ten police officers ran off toward them like a gust of smoke. In the blink of an eye, the supervisors were all bound one after another, and within less than fifteen minutes, thirty supernatural creatures were dragged in, forming a long continuous line.

“Is this the one at the very end?” Nenem pointed at a very modern-looking green supernatural creature. “Yes.” Everyone said in unison.

“Very well. “Hey! “You there—what exactly is the meaning of using such a pitiful disabled person to sell one-sen matches for ten yen? “Moreover, employing thirty-two people and persisting in trying to conceal your misdeeds is truly outrageous. “So? What do you say?”

However, the green modern-looking supernatural creature pursed its lips and showed no sign of being intimidated.

“This is unconscionable.” “I have no recollection of doing any such thing.” “I lent this person just nine yen 120 years ago, so now it’s become over five thousand yen.” “I make it my business to follow this person around every day and collect thirty yen daily,” he said, pointing at the bright red, modern-looking supernatural creature in front of him.

Thereupon, the red modern-looking supernatural creature said: "That's correct. I pay this person thirty yen each day. Even when I keep paying, the principal only grows larger. Be that as it may, I myself have a substantial loan from the previous person dating back 140 years—using that as principal, I actually follow this person around every day and collect fifty yen each time. I know nothing about this 'crime of matches' nonsense or whatever," he said while pointing at the blue-colored modern-looking supernatural creature before him. Thereupon, the blue one said.

“That’s correct.” “I pay fifty yen every day.” “And since I made a considerable loan to that previous person two hundred years back, I just follow them around daily using that as principal and collect a hundred yen each time.”

The yellow modern-looking creature in front that had been pointed at said.

“That’s right.” “That’s correct.” “And I have a substantial loan from the previous person dating back some time, so I follow them around every day and collect three hundred yen each time.”

“Hmm.” “I’ve got a clear understanding now.” “Now state only the loan years and current collection amounts,” Nenem declared. “250 years, 500 yen.” “300 years, 1,000 yen.” “301 years, 1,007 yen.” “302 years, 1,008 yen.” “303 years, 1,009 yen.” “304 years, 1,010 yen.”

Nenem quickly calculated. “I’ve got it. Number Thirty. A standing doze beneath **the** telegraph pole. You're taking 1,030 yen, aren't you?” “Indeed it is exactly as you say. Your discernment leaves me in awe.”

At that moment, the supervisor who had been standing at the corner earlier and yawning spoke.

“How about that? That’s correct. I collect exactly 1,030 yen and 30 sen daily, and submit precisely 1,030 yen to this person.”

Nenem said.

"I see. Then just who is using Fukujiro to make them walk?"

“I don’t know.” “I don’t know,” everyone replied in unison. Nenem, too, found himself momentarily at a loss, but after a pause, he spoke.

“Very well.” “Then those who know about Fukujiro selling matches—raise your hands.”

Starting with the hard, black Tan'ichi, ten people raised their hands in succession. “Very well. Then you,” he pointed at the tenth respondent, “are clearly the worst offender here. To prison with you.”

“No.” “Not at all.” “I merely observed Fukujiro selling matches from a distance.” “To sell them for ten yen—how outrageous! I have no knowledge whatsoever of such a matter.” “This is truly a most disagreeable case.” “Very well.” “Then, those aware that Fukujiro sells matches for ten yen—raise your hands.” Only three responded, beginning with the rigid black Tan’ichi.

“Then it’s you. Put him in prison,” said Nenem.

"I already stated that earlier. I was simply observing under orders." "So you know about selling them for ten yen yet claim you're only following orders. Then the next one of you is issuing those orders. But you have no memory of ordering them to sell at ten yen, nor do you believe they're actually selling for that price—though seeing Fukujiro toddling in and out of the house made you think 'How remarkably profitable this must be,' am I correct?"

“Your discernment is precisely correct,” the two said in unison.

“Very well. I’ve understood everything. I hereby pronounce judgment upon you all: This represents an orderly accumulation of wrongdoing. To parade about in such modern attire daily while collecting interest on money lent a hundred or even two hundred years ago is unconscionable. Particularly unacceptable is how this has persisted through thirty individuals. You all spend your days yawning and dozing off, only entering the nearby restaurant at mealtimes before rushing out to confirm the previous supervisor hasn’t wandered too far—such outrageous negligence! Moreover, vigorously committing misdeeds under the pretense that I don’t profit from them is equally inexcusable. Therefore, everyone bears guilt. Therefore, I must hold all accountable. However, since that would prove too pitiful—how about this? Everyone resign from your current positions at once! As for Fukujiro, I’ll have him work alone in a small room at some toy factory where he can occasionally eat sweets. The rest of you seem sturdy enough—find your own employment as you please. If you absolutely cannot secure positions yourselves, come consult me at my office.”

“Understood.” “Thank you very much.” Everyone left Fukujiro behind, divided the people like Akayama, and scattered in all directions to flee. Thereupon, Nenem assigned one prosecutor and sent Fukujiro to a factory that makes papier-mâché tigers.

The spectators rejoiced,

"What an admirable Chief Judge!" "What an admirable Chief Judge!" they shouted in unison. Thereupon, Nenem resumed his inspection tour.

After proceeding a little further, there stood on the right side of the street a large house reinforced with mud with a sign that read "World Police Chief's Residence." “I’ll just take a look inside,” Nenem said as he stood at the entrance. The entire house suddenly stirred into commotion, after which the Police Chief stepped forward to lead the way. After inspecting all the facilities inside, Nenem sat facing the Police Chief at a table. The Police Chief produced a name card as large as a newspaper, unfolded it, and respectfully handed it to Nenem. When he looked,

Kenkenkenkenkenken Kueku Police Chief was written there. Nenem "Hmm, Kueku... That name does sound familiar." "Pardon the abruptness, but are you from a local farming family hereabouts?" he said.

The Police Chief appeared startled, “Your discernment is precisely correct,” he answered. “So you’ve left home without permission. Your mother is weeping bitterly,” Nenem said. “Oh, not at all. In fact, I did send a telegram last night—it’s not exactly that I ran away. Just three mornings ago, I came from home to the university’s janitorial office on a minor errand, but ended up getting drawn into Dr. Fūfībō’s lecture. For three days until yesterday, I listened, failed, and pondered. Last night I finally passed and have now assumed my post here.”

“Ha ha ha.” “Is that so.” “That is commendable.” “Have you already sent the telegram?”

“Yes.” Thereupon Nenem too became thoroughly impressed, then left the Police Chief’s house, and went round and round conducting his inspection tour before returning to the Chief Judge of the Supernatural World’s official residence around noon. The lunch feast was a straw omelet.

IV. Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem's Peace of Mind

The reputation of Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem, Chief Judge of the Supernatural World, had now attained extraordinary proportions. Since this world first began evolving from a solitary water flea—gradually sprouting branches and developing limbs—everyone proclaimed that such an illustrious magistrate was truly without precedent.

Even Shalon the supernatural moneylender went so far as to praise him: "Ah, truly Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem-sama is an eminent judge—Lord Danny reborn! Nay, Lord Danny perfected!" From the Supernatural World Leader came daily conferrals of one new rank and shipments of medals, until merely reciting those ranks now took two hours, and the medals had filled every inch of Nenem’s chamber walls. Therefore, whenever Nenem had to deliver ceremonial addresses at events, finding it burdensome to recite his titles, he would divide them into thirty parts in advance and have thirty subordinates noisily read them out all at once—yet even this still took four minutes. The same applied to the medals. Since there was no possible way to fit all the medals on Nenem’s chest, his formal coat extended from the breast area with a strip about ten meters long, medals affixed in neat rows along it—a sash-like strip that thirty subordinates would carry in procession. Now, having obtained such tremendous honors—and furthermore, as you all must already be aware—Nenem was even permitted to eat the straw omelet that no one besides Dr. Fūfībō was ever allowed to consume. Thus, by all reasoning, there should have been no greater happiness than this, yet in truth, Nenem found no joy whatsoever. The reason was that he could not for a moment rid his mind of thoughts about his sister Mamimi—who, during that famine year when he was eight, had been placed in a sweets basket and carried off by someone chanting “Ohoihoi, ohoihoi!”

Thereupon, one day, Nenem rang the bell on the table with a chime and summoned one of his subordinate prosecutors. "There's something I'd like to ask you." "What would that be?" "What kind of business employs small girls whose knee and heel bones haven't even hardened yet?" The prosecutor thought for a moment before answering. "That would be supernatural magic. We often observe supernatural magicians employing girls up to twelve or thirteen years old for transformation arts—stretching and rounding these creatures like clay figurines, attaching then removing ears as they shift forms—now a dog shape, now a rabbit shape, and so forth."

“I see.” “And just how many of those people are there in the world, I wonder.” “Indeed. According to the year before last’s survey, there were fifty-nine individuals practicing magic as their profession, though it is believed the number has now decreased considerably.”

“I see. Such claycraft-like practices must be remnants from when this world was still formed of slugs. I shall make a brief inspection. Depending on circumstances, I may have no choice but to issue a prohibition.”

Thereupon, Nenem, accompanied by his subordinate prosecutor, set out into town once again today. And under the prosecutor’s guidance, they proceeded straight to where the Grand Magic Troupe was situated. The magic show was now at its very height.

Nenem entered together with the prosecutor. The band was playing energetically. Two blue and white supernatural creatures, wearing only glinting steel gauntlets, were engaged in something called an electric duel. Each time the swords clanged, blue sparks shot out from them like broom bristles, illuminating the two creatures' faces in a ghastly manner, and all the spectators held their breath in suspense. “That’s quite gallant,” Nenem said.

Eventually, with a resounding thwack, one of them was cleanly sliced from shoulder through chest to waist, their body splitting clean in two before clattering to the floor.

The victor puffed up his shoulders, swung his sword high three times with violent purple sparks erupting from the blade, and strode off to the backstage.

Then the fallen one's bisected body snapped back together, the wounds sealing completely in an instant, and with a raucous guffaw, he sprang to his feet. Then, lowering his head just slightly in a bow, "My wounds haven't fully healed yet, so please excuse this crude bow," he said while letting out another raucous guffaw, then made his way into the backstage as well. Bong, bong, bong-g-g-gong went the gong. A table draped with a white cloth and a chair were carried out. A young supernatural creature who had painted the area around his eyes pitch-black deliberately pursed his lips slightly and sat down at the table. A waiter supernatural creature wearing a white apron reverently brought forth a pure white plate measuring about four shaku in diameter and placed it upon the table.

“Fork!” bellowed the young supernatural creature seated on the chair as he slammed the table.

“Right away.” “This was a terrible oversight on my part.” “Right away—I’ll bring it immediately,” said the waiter as he brought forth a fork about two shaku in length.

“Knife!” bellowed the young supernatural creature as he slammed the table again. “Right away. This was a terrible oversight on my part. I’ll bring it immediately,” said the waiter as he went behind the curtain and produced a knife about two shaku long. However, when he placed the knife on the table, its blade immediately bent limply. “Useless! This thing,” spat the supernatural creature seated on the chair as he hurled the knife onto the floor.

The knife fluttered down to the floor, burst into crimson flames, and vanished. “Right away. “This was a terrible oversight on my part.” “That was merely a knife advertisement.” “I will bring the genuine article,” the waiter said as he retreated. What had left Nenem, the prosecutor, and everyone utterly astonished was this: without anyone noticing how or when it had appeared, an extraordinarily large blue supernatural creature now sat cross-legged upon the plate placed on the table, looking down with composed authority at the young supernatural creature seated in the chair. The blue supernatural creature quietly turned toward everyone. The blue supernatural creature had bright red rings around its eyes. Suddenly, the audience burst into uproar.

“Ten-tenten-ten Tejimaa!” “Well done!” “Hoh, splendid!” “Tejimaa!” The large supernatural creature on the plate called Tejimaa quietly turned his face once more toward the young supernatural creature sitting in the chair. And the two of them stared fixedly at each other, like a pair of lions. The audience was already all on their feet.

“Tejimaa!” “Don’t lose!” “Do your best!” “Hang tough!” “Tejimaa!” “If you lose, you’ll get eaten!”

After such an uproar, everything now fell completely silent.

Before long, the young supernatural creature sitting in the chair seemed to find his eyes aching, and at last blinked once. On the plate, Tejimaa inched his face closer in that direction. The young supernatural creature blinked about five times in succession and, finally appearing unable to endure it any longer, covered his eyes with both hands. Tejimaa on the plate calmly extended his face forward with fluid composure. The young supernatural creature clattered down from the chair. Tejimaa smoothly rose to his feet on the plate, then leapt down lightly from it, settled heavily into the chair, and effortlessly plucked up the young supernatural creature lying collapsed on the floor onto the plate.

At that moment, the waiter brought a knife evidently made of solid gold and placed it on the table. Tejimaa gave a slight nod, took out a wallet from his pocket, pulled out a hanshi-sized banknote, and made the waiter grasp it. "This master's truly generous," muttered the waiter supernatural creature as he disappeared behind the curtain. Thereupon Tejimaa picked up the knife, sloppily sliced through the supernatural creature on the plate, speared it with the fork, and noisily devoured it.

At that moment, there was a "Poof!" sound as the young supernatural creature who should have been eaten leaped out from under the floor.

“You’ve kept yourself in good health,” Tejimaa said as he took the young supernatural creature’s hand and shook it loosely five or six times.

“Tejimaa! Tejimaa!” “Well done, Tejimaa!” The crowd burst into uproarious applause. The two on stage, still holding hands, abruptly bowed, and then,

"Baracock, bararage, boran, boran, boran," they sang loudly in strange melody as they retreated behind the curtain. With a boron, boron, bororon, the gong sounded once more. The stage turned blue like moonlight in an instant. Then it gradually shifted into a leisurely, quintessentially spring-like peach color.

Supernatural creatures clad in jet-black garments emerged from both left and right—about ten of them—carrying large shovels and gleaming forks. “O-Kire’s horn goes clang-clang-clang, Supernatural wheat sways sway-sway-sway, Skylark, chit-chick-chit-chick-chee, The fork’s gleam goes sparkle-sparkle-sparkle.” They began mimicking plowing fields and sowing seeds while singing the agricultural song of the supernatural world. In an instant, large green supernatural wheat plants sprouted from the floor with a sway-sway-sway, producing magnificent brown ears and bearing small white flowers in the blink of an eye. The stage glowed fiery red.

“O-Kire’s horn clanks clank-clank-clank, Supernatural wheat sways clatter-clatter-clatter, Black kite circling—to-lo-lo-lo— The sickle’s gleam goes shing-shing-shing.”

And they all stomped their feet in rhythm as they sang. Instantly, the ears formed magnificent grains and bowed their heads heavily. The supernatural creatures in black garments had somehow taken up large sickles and began reaping them with crisp slicing sounds. They reaped while singing and dancing. In the blink of an eye, bundles of wheat were piled mountain-high at the center of the stage. “O-Kire’s horn goes clunk-clunk-clunk Supernatural wheat goes thwack, thwack, thw- Crow goes caw-rara, caw-rara, caw,

"The winnowing machine’s drone goes whoosh-whoosh-whoosh." Before they knew it, everyone took up sticks. No sooner were the wheat bundles thump-thump-thumped than all the grains fell out. The wheat stalks emitted blue flames and blazed fiercely, leaving behind a mound of yellow grains. Before they knew it, everyone set about milling them. The large winnowing machine was already set up and spinning with a whirring hum.

The stage suddenly turned a translucent golden color. Magnificent sunflowers stood aligned in an orderly row at the back and glowed. Then winged insects crafted from blue, navy, yellow, and various colored glasses formed waves and whirlpools as they flew about, glittering and shimmering incessantly.

The jet-black velvet curtain at the rear swung open swiftly on both sides, and a girl with navy-blue hair and fiery beauty—clad in a pure white fluttering robe studded with jewels—danced forth like blue and yellow flames. The audience was already all bellowing with voices like those of mad whales, “Keten! Keten!” they shouted.

The girl smiled, nodded, and acknowledged everyone while coming out to the front of the stage. The black supernatural creatures all grabbed grains of wheat. The girl also picked up five or six grains and threw them toward everyone. By the time they fell, they had all transformed into pure white pearls.

“Go on, throw,” said the ten black supernatural creatures as they all mimicked the action and threw. With a clattering cascade, the rain of pearls came scattering down upon the audience's heads.

The girl was laughing and directing everyone while humming something faintly like a curse.

Pennennennennen Nememu stared intently at the girl's face. Indeed—indeed—that very person was his younger sister Pennennennennen Mamimi. Nememu finally could no longer contain himself and cried out at the top of his voice: "Mamimi. "Mamimi." "It's me!" "It's Nememu!"

The girl looked toward Nenem as if startled. Then she seemed to shout something, but her voice came out hoarse and didn’t reach him. Nenem shouted again. “It’s me! “It’s Nenem.” Mamimi leapt up as though set ablaze from head to toe and tried to jump down from the stage, but the black assistant supernatural creatures stopped throwing wheat grains and came running in disarray to firmly restrain her.

"Mamimi." "It's me!" "It's Nem!"

Nenem leapt onto the stage.

From behind the curtain emerged Tejimaa, wearing a loose yellow gown-like garment and appearing thoroughly composed.

“What a commotion.” “What’s happened?” “Well now.” “I wonder why this person has come up onto the stage.”

Nenem stared intently at that face. That very man was the black-clad one who had abducted Mamimi during the year of the famine. “Silence! Have you forgotten? I am that child from the forest in the year of the famine! And now I am the Chief Judge of the World!” “That is most excellent. That’s precisely why I had said back then that the boy was strong and would be fine. Look at the girl—look how splendid she’s become already. She’s what you call a star now! If you’re the Chief Judge, then judge properly and show some gratitude.”

“But why do you operate these bizarre craft performances?” “No. “No, no, no, no. “That’s truly a barbaric relic.” “A relic from when this world was still slug-formed.” “So in your domain, you don’t conduct bizarre craft performances?”

“Of course. The ones from my place all conform to aesthetics.” “No. You’re something else. Then return Mamimi to me.” “Sure thing! Take her away. However, if she herself wishes to return, send her back again.” “Yeah.”

How about that.

At last things had come to such a bizarre state. This too was because Tejimaa held an esteemed position among supernatural creatures.

In any case, there Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem was completely reassured.

V. Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem’s Emergence

Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem had gained independence, achieved success, conducted inspections, and felt completely reassured, so his body gradually grew stout and his voice became profoundly deep. In most trials, when Nenem would go out, sit down heavily in his chair, and barely move his lips to speak, the matter would already be settled.

Now, one Sunday, Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem went to the hill with thirty subordinates, his silver robe fluttering.

Kurare flowers, resembling lilies, blazed dazzlingly white, blooming all across the hill and its hollows. Nenem sat down on the grass and gazed fixedly up at the deep blue sky. The subordinate judges and prosecutors formed a ring around him from both sides. “How’s this? Isn’t it fine weather?”

“Coming here and seeing it like this, our world seems remarkably peaceful, doesn’t it?” Nenem said.

Everyone’s shadows fell jet-black upon the grass.

“Lately there have been no eruptions and no earthquakes, and the sky remains steadfastly blue indeed.” The highest-ranking among the judges, a bright red supernatural creature, spoke.

“Yes, that’s absolutely right. However, I hear Sanmutori made quite a rumbling yesterday, didn’t it?”

“Yes, it was in the newspaper.” “Is Sanmutori that one there?”

The second-ranking judge pointed at the blue-glowing triangular mountain in the distance. “Yeah.” “That’s right.” “According to my calculations, it simply must erupt before long.” “After all, the gas pressure at Sanmutori’s base has exceeded nine billion atmospheres.” “Moreover, Sanmutori’s weakest part should only withstand eight billion atmospheres.” “And isn’t it strange that it hasn’t erupted yet?” “I can’t really believe there’s any mistake in my calculations.”

“Yes.” The senior judges and everyone nodded in unison. At that moment, the blue light of Sanmutori in the distance shook violently. Then it appeared to bend slightly sideways, but suddenly the mountain split cleanly in two like a cleaved watermelon, and yellow and brown smoke went puffing high, higher still.

Then golden lava flowed out glittering and glimmering, spreading into a vast fan shape in the blink of an eye. Those who had been watching “There… There we have it!” they extended their hands toward it and shouted loudly. “It is done. It is done. “It has finally erupted!” Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem glowed with a noble indigo-blue radiance and said quietly, At that very moment, the ground quaked violently, quaked and shook like waves.

“BOOM, GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP, DRONNNN DRONNNN—” came a sound loud enough to rupture eardrums. Then the wind roared past, and in an instant Sanmutori’s smoke bent away into the distance, the sky grew ever bluer, and the kurare flowers blazed in radiant splendor. The senior judge spoke.

“The Chief Judge is truly extraordinary. Now even the earth’s crust submits to the Chief Judge’s sacred judgments.”

The second judge said. “Truly, Chief Judge Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem is supernaturally extraordinary.” “I assert that Niicha’s philosophy has likely received its suggestive impulses from the Chief Judge.”

Everyone shouted at once. “Bravo! Chief Judge Nenem! Bravo! Chief Judge Nenem!”

Nenem was smiling quietly. His triumphant face shone brighter than the blue sky, clearer than the finest lapis lazuli. Not only that, but everyone’s "Bravo" voices rang out loudly across heaven and earth, the earth’s crust droned and shook, and when those tremors finally reached Sanmutori, influenced by them, Sanmutori erupted a second time with a towering pillar of fire. “BOOM, GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP, DRONNNN DRONNNN—”

Then the wind roared past and drove all dangerous things—volcanic bombs, hot ash, and everything perilous—away beyond the mountains so that none would fall upon this magnificent Nenem. Nenem was at the very height of joy at this moment. Finally, he stood up and sang loudly.

“I was once a kelp harvester in the forest, When that kelp net spread across the sky, Deep-sea sharks collided in the wind, And my hands trembled violently. I was Dr. Fūfībō’s disciple— Dr. Fūfībō swallowed my notebook In one smooth gulp with his yawn, Then flew straight out the window. Long ago, by magician Tejimaa— My sister had been taken away. At that magician Tejimaa’s place, My sister had become a star.

Now I have a hundred daasu of medals, I’ve grown sick of straw omelets too. My judgments command even the earth's crust "Even Sanmutori split like a watermelon did." Now then, the thirty subordinate judges and prosecutors—completely swept up—rose together, “Bravo, Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem “Bravo, Pen Pen Pen Pen Penem.”

and began dancing while shouting. “Figaro, Figarot, Figarott!” The kurare flowers glittered, their stems snapped sharply, and everyone’s shadow figures swirled chaotically as if in battle. Over yonder, Sanmutori erupted for the third time.

“KABOOM, GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP, DRONNNN DRONNNN.”

Golden lava, jet-black smoke.

“Figaro, Figarot, Figarott!

Chief Judge Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem, Alongside authority's blazing golden horn, At midday stood upon kurare flower hill, Commands distant Sanmutori's azure glow. Triangular Sanmutori blue-illumined Instantly sends fire pillars skyward. Wind arrives; kurare flowers shine bright. Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem laughs aloud.

Bravo. “Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem.” “Bravo, Pen Pen Pen Pen Penem.” At that moment, Sanmutori erupted for precisely the fourth time. “KABOOM, GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP GLOOP, DRONNNN DRONNNN.”

Starting with Nenem, all the supernatural prosecutors and judges became utterly engrossed—singing, leaping, and dancing. “Figaro, Figarot, Figarott!” If the wind roars across blue skies, Its lingering breath sinks to earth, And kurare flowers blaze radiantly.

Our robes billow.

The wind that had rushed off earlier now reached Sanmutori.

The jet-black pillar of smoke collapsed and fell away into the distance. “Figaro, Figarot, Figarott!” “Bravo, Pennen Nen Nen Nen Nenem!” “Bravo, Pen Pen Pen Pen Penem!” Our shouts shook the ground. The wave traveled at twenty-five knots per minute. It reached Sanmutori’s hot lava. Sanmutori finally erupted once more. “Figaro, Figarot, Figarott!” “Figaro, Figarot, Figarott!”

Nenem danced, rampaged, shouted, laughed, and ran about wildly. At that moment, whether by some misstep or momentum, his foot slipped toward the perilous side. The 'perilous side' referred to an area just behind—or rather, slightly ahead of—the field in the supernatural world where kurare flowers bloomed; that place was in fact the human world. “Ah! The Chief Judge blundered.”

It seemed someone was shouting piercingly, but Nenem was already standing on a jagged black rock, his head roaring. Right before him stretched a truly dreamlike, narrow, narrow path wavering its way through gray moss. The sky was pure white and stretched endlessly high, while behind lay a steep slope that soon vanished into a blanket of pure white clouds. Where had that field of blooming kurare flowers from the supernatural world—where they had just been singing moments ago—gone? Indeed, that was the summit of the pass leading from Nepal into Tibet.

Three poles stood immediately before Nenem, upon which numerous long, thin tattered cloth strips resembling cords were tied, flapping noisily in the wind. Nenem shuddered involuntarily at the sight of them. That was indeed the often-mentioned Tibetan talisman flags for warding off evil. Nenem ran away. He ran on and on over the pitch-black rugged rocky peaks.

However, from straight ahead came two pilgrims singing in soft voices. Nenem panicked and flailed about frantically. He desperately tried to return to the supernatural world as quickly as possible.

The pilgrims had already spotted Nenem. And in their shock, they prostrated themselves on the ground and began chanting some incomprehensible incantation. Nenem’s entire body began to go completely numb. And then he gradually grew faint and finally collapsed with a heavy thud.

Heavy thud. After some time had passed—Nenem found himself right by his ear— “Chief Judge! Chief Judge! Pull yourself together—Chief—Judge!” he heard voices shouting.

Startled, he opened his eyes and looked around to find himself back in the kurare field from earlier.

Thirty subordinates gathered around him, looking genuinely worried. “Ah, what have I done?” “Your Honor has just fallen from the sky. How are you feeling, Your Honor?”

The Senior Judge inquired.

“Ah... thank you. “I’m quite all right now.” But ultimately I had manifested myself.

Today I must put myself on trial. Ah, I shall resign. And then, starting tomorrow for a hundred days, I shall clean the supernatural creatures' university. Ah, it's all over. Nenem involuntarily cried. Thirty subordinates also cried out loudly together. The sound rumbled non-non-non-non across the ground, sending ripples through the earth, and when they reached distant Mount Sanmutori, the mountain erupted in a crimson pillar of flame for its fifth eruption.

“Boom! Glug-glug-glug-glug.” The wind gusted fiercely, and the broken kurare flowers quivered. [End of manuscript]