Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

Osaka was desolate.

The night had already passed three o'clock—in other words, it was midnight.
At that moment, a laborer walked forward with feeble steps.

Today makes two days I haven't eaten—when the hell am I gonna get my hands on some food?
The future's pitch black.
There ain't no telling when I'll get a bite. Then it becomes a matter of life!
Hah—humans must awaken their thieving instincts in times like these.
After all—it's a matter of life.
It's life or death.
If I don't steal—I can't eat.
If I can't eat—I'll die.
That's right—I'll kick the bucket!
...Drop dead!
Drop dead?
I'll drop dead and be done with it!
Oh god—this disgusts me! Can't stand it!
If you don't wanna die—you gotta eat.
But how the hell am I supposed to eat?
Tokyo—Yokohama—Kobe... Then I came to this town the day before yesterday—but every factory turned me away.
Truth is—they're cutting workers right now... Every last one gives the same spiel.
So here I was—this so-called dried-up laborer who ain't much to look at—on the verge of becoming just that.

"Now then—where the hell am I?"

While muttering these things to himself, he turned the corner of a large building and walked off to the left.

To the right of the street he walked along lay an Osaka-style moat deep enough to be called a canal, and from a large building on the opposite shore, lamplight spilling onto the water’s surface looked as beautiful as a rainbow—but of course, to the starving laborer, it appeared neither beautiful nor splendid.

When he had walked a little over three chō, there was a long bridge spanning the canal to the opposite shore, but he made no move to cross it. However, this area being near the sea’s mouth perhaps, a briny lukewarm wind swept past his nose with a pungent edge, making his nostrils twitch faintly.

“Where the hell am I?… This is my first time ever laying eyes on Osaka!”
“Can’t tell up from down here… Ah, damn it all! Damn it!”
“Wandering this godforsaken town’s guts at midnight with nowhere to sleep—Christ, even mangy strays think I’m worth barking at now!”

Since the main road turned left from the bridge, he too staggered along the leftward path.
And there was another bridge.
After crossing that bridge and walking a short distance, he came out onto a desolate, desolate street lined with Western-style buildings—but by this time his legs had ceased obeying his commands.
In other words, he could no longer walk.

"Even my damn legs are mocking me!"

Though he muttered this through tears, with nothing else to be done, he began hunting for a place to sleep outdoors.
Yet finding no suitable hiding spots in the area, he forced his two disobedient legs forward and began walking again. After dragging himself half a chō this way, he came before a large building—but by then not just his legs but his entire body and spirit lay utterly spent, leaving him unable to take another step even had he tried.

"What on earth's gonna happen to me!"
"To hell with it! Let whatever happens happen!"
"Oh damn—my eyes're spinnin' now."
"Ugh—my gut's startin' to ache."
"Guess I'll just kick the bucket like this…"

Even as he spat these words, his body slammed hard against the massive building.

As it turned out, there was a side door that had been left unlocked there, and with a faint creak, his body—still leaning against it—slid naturally into the building.

He was utterly shocked, but in that moment, his spirit steeled itself.
Then he swiftly glanced around to survey his surroundings.
The place appeared to be a backyard with paulownia trees standing tall and dense.
And before his eyes loomed what appeared to be the entrance to a large building.

"Is this a school? Or maybe a government office?"

Muttering to himself, he approached and peered through the entrance. A long corridor stretched ahead.
A single dim lamp burned in one section of the hallway, the white handles on doors lining both sides vaguely visible to his eyes.
The whole place looked utterly gloomy, devoid of any apparent human presence.

"This must be a government office after all."
"Can't be no police station."
"Ain't exactly genius for some vagrant to come barging into a cop shop."

He thought awhile.

In the midst of this, he grew sleepy.
And then he grew even hungrier.
Above all, what he needed now were two things—a soft place to sleep and warm food—well, even cold would suffice—these two things.

"Therefore," he asked himself, "this must be a government office after all. If that's the case, there's bound to be at least an old janitor staying here."
So I'll make my request—'Old man, I'm real sorry about this, but how 'bout you serve me a bowl of rice?'
No exaggeration—today makes three days I ain't eaten a thing—so if there's a decent janitor here, he'd take real pity on me. No need to hold back—just eat.
It's not exactly a feast, but maybe he'd say something like... 'There's some bonito sashimi'...
"Let me try to find the janitor's room."

II

The brief tightening of his resolve slackened back into dazedness under extreme hunger and fatigue, and while entertaining these fanciful notions, he staggered from the entrance into the corridor.

The corridor was considerably long, but nowhere near a full chō.
But to him, that corridor seemed as long as ten miles.
Severe hunger often induces a drunken-like state in its sufferers, and at the very least, he was no exception.

Sometimes stumbling as if about to fall, other times bumping into rooms on either side, he trudged along sluggishly.

Eventually, the corridor dead-ended, and from where it terminated, a single corridor ran left and right.

"Hmm, which way should I turn?"

He was momentarily perplexed, but in the next instant turned left.
And then he staggered a few faltering steps forward.

The moment he did, a piercing man’s voice resounded from a room on the right.

“Thief! Thief!! Thief!”

Then from the left-side room too,

“Murderer!”

A shout followed.

How shocked he was defied description.
He stood rooted in the corridor like a stake, his entire body drenched in sweat, his mouth and eyes gaping open.

“This is bad…” he groaned.
“This is bad! They’ve found me!
They’re calling me a thief! A murderer!
This is bad, this is bad—they’ve found me…” In that instant, visions flooded his eyes—
The doors of rooms on both sides opened.
Countless people came flying out.
Everyone raised their fists—and those fists—how enormous they were!
——A man held a sinister snake-like rope.
Everyone berated him.
Bound at the culmination of those earlier cries.
Then a police officer came.
Then the police.
Then prison!
“It’s not a jail—it’s a prison.”
The prison’s iron bars….

"It's hopeless!
This is bad!
I'm finished!"

He instantly surrendered to his fate.
He held out both hands as if ready to be bound, then tightly shut his eyes.

“Can’t blame them for suspecting me of being a thief. Sneaking into someone’s house at this hour without a word of explanation, dressed in filthy rags… They should just tie me up already! What are they waiting for?”

He quickly opened his eyes and looked.
Everything was still.
The doors remained shut, and no one emerged.
Only corridors and rooms lined the space…

“Huh?” He tilted his head, but suddenly every hair on his body stood on end.

"Is this... a monster house?"

At the very moment he thought this, from a distant room,
A low, rumbling groan reached his ears.

“Help!”
“Help!”
“Help!”

Then the wailing cries too came echoing through—but both abruptly snapped off—leaving an eerie silence to reclaim dominion.
Then from the room ahead came a woman’s delighted laughter—"Ho, ho, ho, ho!"—ringing out loudly.

"Gah!"

Before he knew it, the laborer cried out, forgetting his surroundings, and immediately dashed down the corridor. Though relatively literate for a laborer, he still harbored the strong superstitions typical of his kind. The moment he became convinced this eerie empty house he had stumbled into in the dead of night was a monster’s den, such intense terror seized him that even his hunger and fatigue vanished.

He ran through the vast building in frantic panic. No exit would yield itself. Corridor stretched endlessly wherever he fled. His vision blurring, he scrambled up to the second floor. There too stretched a corridor, rooms flanking both sides with doors lined up in perfect rows.

“Horrible! Horrible!” he groaned, utterly drained of strength and spirit, as he leaned against one of the doors and finally covered his face with both hands.

Then the very door he had been leaning against opened once more—naturally yet mysteriously—and he tumbled into the room.

The instant he fell through, a voice rang out…

“I’ve been waiting so long… Now come quickly and help me, please.” —It was a youthful woman’s voice.

He stood dazed and looked around the room.
It was a large, desolate space with desks and chairs scattered about, but no human figures in sight.
Yet he intuitively grasped that a black curtain hung at the room’s side, that another chamber lay beyond it, and that the young beautiful woman’s voice which had just called to him had come from there.

"I’ve finally found a human!"

……He suddenly felt relieved, his courage growing somewhat.
A human in this monster-infested building!
It was like encountering Buddha in hell.
And so he stomped over to the adjacent room, ran up to it, and pulled open the entrance curtain.

"Yes, it is I. Do you require something?"

III

The room he had entered defied his expectations slightly.
The walls, ceiling, and floorboards were all painted pure white.
Only the bed placed at the center was a sturdy iron construction; a white cloth had similarly been draped over the human lying atop it.
And on either side of this bed stood a man and woman, both wearing white surgical gowns.
The man was a foreigner with hair as white as hemp.
An aquiline nose.
Even his mustache beneath that nose was pure white.
Sharp large green eyes; pinkish skin characteristic of Westerners.
And though this foreigner was of average build, he stood remarkably tall.

The woman was Japanese; she too was tall, but her build was exceptionally gaunt.
Yet her features were beautiful.
More than merely beautiful—they were utterly bewitching.

Beside the foreigner stood a rectangular glass shelf, upon which several scalpels and scissors gleamed with a silver light.

"Oh, so this isn't a government office... Ah-ha! This is a hospital!"—the laborer finally realized.
"So it's an asylum! Those awful screams earlier must've come from madmen!"
When this thought struck him, his own panicked behavior suddenly seemed ridiculous.
He let out an involuntary chuckle that bubbled up like genuine mirth.
The foreigner and Japanese nurse—who had been exchanging startled glances since his entrance—now saw the beautiful nurse wave her hand and step toward him at this burst of laughter.

“Who exactly are you? And what brings you to a place like this at such a late hour?”

“Well, I’m a laborer… Honda Sutematsu’s the name… See, the front gate was open like this all natural-like… And I was so hungry I just… wandered right in…”

“Ah, I see. So what you’re saying is… you want food?”

“Yes! Yes! That’s exactly it! Yes! Yes! That’s exactly right!”—Honda Sutematsu the laborer exclaimed as if lunging forward.

Then, the beautiful nurse cast a glance at the dignified foreigner’s face while wearing a faint smile that suggested some measure of relief.
The foreigner also smiled and said in fluent Japanese:

“...Then let’s rely on this person.”
“Yes, let’s have you help us… A-san may have had some trouble and can’t come… Besides, we’re out of time… We can’t have the anesthesia wearing off.”

“Yes, then let us proceed accordingly.”
Turning toward Sutematsu, she said: “As you can see in this room here, we’ll be performing surgery now."
“By the way, one assistant was supposed to help us.”
“That’s why we left both the back door and this room’s door open.”
“But they didn’t come, and you showed up instead… So… I know it’s terribly inconvenient, but would you help us?”
“You’ll help us, won’t you?”—she addressed him in a voice dripping with courtesan-like allure.
Even if her request were impossible, it was a strangely captivating voice that compelled assent.

“H-hey,” Sutematsu stammered, “what on earth could someone like me possibly do?”

“Even an amateur could manage it,” she replied.

“But…” Sutematsu hesitated further. “I’m starving. Haven’t eaten for three days.”

“Naturally, we’ll compensate you.”
The foreigner cut in abruptly.

“Very well.
“I’ll give you money.
“Then you can eat.”

“Y-you’re givin’ me money?!
“Th-that’s... that’s real kind of you!
“Sure thing! I’ll do whatever you want!
“Hell, I’d even kill for ya!
“But... what exactly’s the job?
“What’m I s’posed to do?”

“You just need to hold down both legs of this patient lying here.”

“Got it. This ain’t nothin’.”

“But we’ll have to make a small incision.”

“Are you going to make a deep cut somewhere?”

“It’s just applying the scalpel to the chest area.”

“Is that so.
The chest... A scalpel...
Heh heh… a scalpel…”

“And then we extract the heart.”

“…………”

“Oh no, it’s nothing at all.”
“It’s a very simple surgery, you know.”

“But extracting a heart… Can you really manage such a delicate procedure?”

“Yes, we can do it.”
“Only we can.”

She smiled subtly and glanced at the foreigner’s face.
Then the foreigner also smiled subtly and returned her gaze.

IV

“Then we’ll leave this to you.”

After confirming once more, she began preparing for the surgery.
First, the white cloth was pulled back.
And from beneath it emerged a man’s face—a young, robustly handsome face—along with his chest.
There was a large mole on his forehead.
That was his sole distinguishing feature.

“Do keep holding them firmly.”
“Yes, both legs. Keep them securely in place.”

At her instruction, Sutematsu hurriedly held down the patient’s legs. At that moment, the foreigner took up the scalpel and gently placed its sharp blade near where the heart was presumed to be. Sutematsu suddenly grew frightened, tightly closed both eyes, and thought: What an unlucky bastard—to have his heart gouged out like this. Could such a disease even exist? ……It’s just like a frog dissection right? You take out the innards and wash them clean— Oh!

Startled, he tightened his grip on the legs.
This was because the patient had suddenly thrashed back with a violent groan.

“Damn!”
“Damn! Damn!”
“Damn it all!” he forced them down with all his might.
Soon the violent convulsions ceased, and through his restraining hands came faint tremors – tremors so slight they might have been imagined.

“That will be sufficient.” The nurse’s voice reached him.

Relieved, he opened his eyes.
The room showed nothing particularly unusual.
A white cloth had already been properly draped over the patient, and a dazzling white light shone brightly at the center of the room.
There was nothing unusual.

However, there was one thing that appeared terrifying to Sutematsu’s eyes.
It was a dusky-colored object glistening with blood, placed atop a medium-sized silver tray held in the nurse’s hands—but he already had a rough idea of what it was.

If it wasn't a heart, what else could it possibly be!

The foreigner and the nurse, wearing expressions so solemn they seemed terrifying at first glance, opened the door to yet another room at the corridor's end while guarding the heart atop the silver tray, then quietly stepped inside.

After that, not a sound remained in the stillness.
Sutematsu stood waiting for some time for them to emerge, but as he waited, he found himself gripped by an unbearable curiosity.
What could be in that room?
What did they mean to do with that heart? He finally crept toward the door of that room, muffling his footsteps.
The door wasn’t locked.
He opened it a crack and quietly peered inside.
That room too was painted pure white in every detail, just like this one.
Against the far wall stood a box some eight feet long.
Inside the box lay a human.
A man of extraordinary build and features—truly imposing—wearing an elegant frock coat.
Before this man in the box stood the foreigner and the nurse.
Then the foreigner raised his hand, touched the man’s chest, and unbuttoned both waistcoat and shirt.
The skin lay exposed.
He touched it again.
Then—miraculously—a portion of the skin gaped open like a mouth!
They pressed the tray against the edge of this opening and smoothly slid the heart inside.
Then the skin’s mouth closed once more.

The foreigner and the nurse stood motionless, silently watching the man.

It was eerily quiet.

Then, the human in the box began walking forward with heavy, deliberate steps.

“Ah!”—an exclamation of wonder burst from the nurse’s lips as she cried out in that instant: “Success at last! Success! We’ve succeeded!”

“No, no! It’s too soon to celebrate!” The foreigner immediately interjected. “Exactly! It’s too early for celebration!”

“But it’s walking now!”

“But it might collapse... Oh look—it’s collapsing!”

Just as Dr. Wilson had predicted, the giant artificial human that had been walking until then suddenly came to a halt, quivered for a moment, then began toppling forward.

“Well, after all, it was a failure.”
The foreigner muttered wearily while supporting the giant.

“Ah, so it was a failure after all?”
The woman’s voice sounded sorrowful.

“You mustn’t lose heart.
“We’ll find another one right away.”

“Yes, let’s find a heart then.”

“A stronger, more robust heart then.”

Five

It was the following night.

The laborer Honda Sutematsu, dressed in slightly neat attire, was eating heartily at a large coffee shop in Dōtonbori.

Having assisted with a bizarre surgery at the mysterious hospital last night, he had received an unexpectedly large sum of money from the foreigner, making him remarkably affluent this evening.
High-quality food and delicious drinks—he’d even secured proper lodgings.
Under these circumstances, there ought to be no complaints.

Finally sated, he took out a cigarette from his pocket and began smoking with relish.
Then he pulled the evening newspaper beside him closer and began idly tracing the text.

Suddenly he twitched his eyebrows slightly, then abruptly began reading the society page of the evening newspaper with intense focus.
There was the following headline.

"Taishō Era’s Bizarre Incident
Heart-Snatcher Case.

"Yet Another Victim Surfaces in Kawaguchi"

The headline, printed in extra-large bold type across three columns, was intensely provocative, and its content proved equally gruesome, reaching extremes of cruelty.

“The recent frequent disappearances of robust young men—and the subsequent discovery of these unfortunate youths invariably carved open at the chest, their corpses callously discarded across urban districts, suburbs, seas, and canals to rot—had already been swiftly reported under the moniker ‘Heart-Snatcher Case.’ Now this morning yet another victim surfaced on Kawaguchi’s waters.”
The lamentable victim bore a single mole upon his forehead and was approximately twenty-four or twenty-five years of age.

Such was the general outline of the article. An addendum also stated:

“The perpetrator remains unknown, but rumors from certain quarters suggest that an unnaturally beautiful, slender woman is working as a detestable devil’s accomplice. Specifically, it is said the woman exploits her beauty to abduct pitiable young men and take them to their lair.”

“Hey, check!”

Honda Sutematsu called out loudly to the waitress. When he properly threw down the money, he rushed out of the room. Outside was the bustling district of Dōtonbori; pushed by the crowd, he wandered aimlessly here and there.

"Were those bastards actually evil?! Without knowing that, I ended up assisting murderers!
Ah, this is unbearable! Unbearable!
...Oh, my eyes are spinning.
Ah—cold sweat's breaking out under my arms!
What on earth should I do?
I can't keep quiet like this.
My conscience won't allow that. But if I recklessly go to the police and confess last night's events, they'll think I'm one of them too!
What the hell should I do!
What the hell should I do?!"

“Good evening… Mr. Honda… Lovely evening…”

There was something calling from somewhere.

“Huh?” he reflexively replied, looking around.
By now they were in Sennichimae, just before eight in the evening—the height of the evening crowds, the suffocating press of bodies so thick one could barely breathe.

Amidst the jostling crowd, a gorgeously dressed beautiful woman stood beside him, laughing while watching him.
It was the nurse he had met the previous night.

“Ah!” Sutematsu recoiled in shock, letting out a strangled cry.
Then she formed a faint, almost imperceptible smile on her face, but—

“Now then, won’t you come with me?
“Won’t you assist us again tonight?
“You see, this gentleman is also joining us.” With this, she tilted her chin slightly and introduced the young man accompanying her to him.
“You see, this one here is a student—a commercial school student.
“And he’s an Olympic athlete, you see, so the heart is quite strong.”
“Now then, you come along.”
“And do assist us.”

“No, I must decline.”

“Oh my, that’s a shame.”
She smiled coquettishly but then said, “Well then, shall we bid our farewells?
“I’m sorry.”
“Farewell... Let us go.”

Urging the student onward, she pushed through the crowd and departed.
And then they vanished from sight immediately.

But Sutematsu stood there like a post or stake in the ground, pushed again and again by the human tide yet resisting resolutely, remaining rooted to the same spot indeterminately.
He was lost in thought—

"That poor student... He’ll be made a sacrificial offering... What on earth should I do?!"
Should I just go ahead and tip off the police?
Being seen as an accomplice would be terrifying.
But if I just stand by and do nothing, dozens upon dozens more people would undoubtedly have their hearts gouged out from now on.
...What on earth should I do?
"How on earth can I tip them off without being seen as an accomplice?…"

He was lost in thought, staring vacantly into space—"Oh! That's it!"—and then, seized by some realization, he suddenly leapt up.
"Oh, what a fool I am.
To think I completely failed to notice such means lying right within reach."

With that, he abruptly regained vigor and began striding briskly.

Six

In the early dawn of the following day, every morning newspaper delivered within the city carried—filling entire society sections with grandiose descriptions—an extraordinarily detailed report on a bizarre murder case so horrifying it would chill even the most composed individual: the heart-snatching criminal incident. This shocked citizens to their core, but what proved particularly unexpected was that the principal figures in this crime were Dr. John Seabold Wilson, an American medical researcher respected by the general public who operated a hospital in the former foreign settlement, and his accomplice Niki Sonoko—a Japanese maiden revered as head nurse at that same institution.
And through these two individuals, the number of people whose hearts had been taken was said to be approximately thirty.

Now then, for what purpose did they commit such evil deeds?
But for those two criminals, this was by no means an evil deed.

What follows is an account from the city detective who made the arrests; according to this testimony, they appeared to be nothing short of madmen. If they were not madmen, then they must have been scientists of unprecedented greatness.—The detective’s account follows…

“Last night, an unknown individual sent an express tip-off to police headquarters, which suddenly set our investigation in motion.”
We stealthily made our way to the former foreign settlement and surrounded the hospital.
To assess the situation, we entered the building.
We requested an audience with the director.
Though immediately ushered into the reception room—

“Please wait momentarily—the surgery is still ongoing,” the janitor informed us. Suspecting this very operation, after his departure we quietly slipped from the reception room and, guided by the informant’s letter, stealthily ascended to the second floor.
The surroundings hung in oppressive silence.
Then from one room came unmistakably cheerful voices—a man’s and a woman’s.

“What a splendid night this is!”
“We’ve succeeded exactly as planned…” This was a woman’s voice.

“Indeed, tonight is a splendid night.”
“We succeeded.” This was a man’s voice.

“You may permit yourself to celebrate now—may you not?”—“Indeed—tonight of all nights—we may rejoice from the very depths of our hearts.”

At that instant, I knocked on the door.
Then I entered inside.
Dr. Wilson and the nurse were standing there.
Their four hands were bright red.
On the bed lay the student.
Of course, he had been killed.
Ah, the surgery had been completed.
I immediately revealed my identity and requested they accompany me to the police.

“Ah, you’re from the police.”
“Very well, I shall accompany you… But before that—please take just a brief look at my work. That is to say, at the results of my work.”

Dr. Wilson declared this cheerfully without showing a trace of fear, then guided me along with the nurse as we proceeded to the adjacent room.
In that adjacent room sat a flawless man of nearly eight shaku (approximately 2.4 meters) in height—his muscles bulging beneath a frock coat as he sat quietly—but upon seeing us, he rose to his feet.

“You—” Dr. Wilson called out.
“Ms. Sonoko and I must go to the police now."
“Or perhaps we may never meet you again.”
“So go on and live in good health.”

Then the giant man said suspiciously.

“Why are you going to the police?”
“Why can’t we meet again?”

“You see,” Dr. Wilson replied with subdued sorrow, “this work we’ve done here—in human society, it’s deemed criminal.”

Then Dr. Wilson said in a calm voice:

“Detective—please believe what I’m telling you—this giant human being here is something I created.”
“This is absolutely not an ordinary human born from a woman’s womb.”
“Through various materials and chemicals, and through long years of research, I manufactured an artificial human.”
“However, no matter how I devised methods, I was unable to create a heart.”
“Therefore, I had no choice but to cut open living humans’ chests and use their hearts.”
“I failed many times.”
“But tonight I finally succeeded and achieved success.”
“This giant I created—this is indeed a complete human being.”
“What role it will perform—you all will come to understand in time.”
“—Well then, shall we go together?”

And so I successfully brought Dr. Wilson and the nurse to police headquarters without encountering any resistance whatsoever.

“... (rest omitted).”

×

“The Heart-Snatcher’s”
The story thus came to an end here.

As for the fate of the artificial giant, what became of the doctor and nurse, and Honda Sutematsu’s subsequent life—these matters shall be related at another opportunity.
In short, that is an afterword.