Maine, Derry Town.
This was a town that had grown out of the logging industry.
It was established over two hundred years ago.
Thanks to the abundance and variety of trees in the surrounding forests, its economy had always been fairly prosperous.
As a result, its infrastructure was also well-developed.
However, there had always been one problem that plagued the residents of this town.
A lingering fear that had haunted Derry for over two centuries.
---
[Maine – Derry – Supernatural Incident Archive]
[Child Devourer – Pennywise (Active for over 200 years)]
[Appearance: Usually manifests as a clown, with a grotesque face, yellow eyes, and thick, unsettling greasepaint.]
[Area of Activity: Derry, Maine]
[Known Abilities: Unknown (Suspected to induce hallucinations)]
[Casualties: Unknown (Suspected to have the power to erase evidence of victims)]
[Exorcist Association Response: 11 attempts, all failed. Total of 35 casualties, 13 survivors. All survivors experienced major memory loss.]
[Recommended Action: Do not provoke it. Avoid Derry, Maine.]
[Threat Level: RED (Extremely dangerous)]
---
Standing atop a hill, Orsaga looked down at the town nestled between the mountains and the water. Its terrain resembled the shape of a giant spider.
He furrowed his brow slightly.
A strange feeling washed over him.
It was as if a thin veil had been placed over his eyes—everything he saw seemed slightly blurred and hazy.
Even his precognitive abilities were behaving erratically.
Granted, this was only a clone of himself, and thus weaker than his true form.
But still, this was the first time he had encountered such interference.
With a serious glint in his eyes, he thought to himself, 'Something's definitely off here…'
After pondering for a moment—
Thinking along the lines of "those who lie low live longer" and "a noble man avoids unnecessary danger," Orsaga turned slightly and got back into his sleek sports car, preparing to leave.
The unknown can sometimes bring great rewards—but other times, it spells instant death.
Orsaga wasn't about to gamble without even a shred of certainty, especially when danger could be lurking.
As the engine roared to life, the stylish sports car began driving away from town.
---
A few minutes later—
He stepped out of the still-running car, now at the entrance of the town.
Scratching his head in frustration, Orsaga muttered to himself:
"This is really not good. Looks like I've really run into something unexpected this time…"
Originally, he had intended to drive away.
But somehow, he'd unconsciously ended up back here.
By the time he realized what had happened, he was already inside Derry.
Looking around at the surroundings, he felt like a perfectly ordinary person seeing the world through frosted glass.
Casting one last glance at the road that led out of town, Orsaga sighed and gave up the idea of leaving. Instead, he continued walking forward.
After all, resistance was futile—might as well take it one step at a time.
His attitude had always been calm and adaptable.
---
As he wandered through the streets—
He began to see strange, blurry shadows flickering in and out of view.
A bizarre, massive bird floated eerily in the sky. It was around three meters long, with a wingspan of nearly seven meters—but it wasn't flying. It just hovered there, motionless.
Several balloons of different sizes were tied to its wings.
On the ground below, a monstrous dog roamed aimlessly, its hindquarters sprouting seven tails and its head riddled with over a dozen mouths, each drooling uncontrollably.
A one-legged toad cradled a pair of eyeballs.
A hummingbird with human hands was sucking gasoline from a fuel hose.
Countless absurd, grotesque, and illogical creatures wandered the streets of Derry.
Yet the townsfolk acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Or perhaps—they couldn't see what he saw. Their perception seemed locked onto a superficial layer of reality.
It was as if they lived in a parallel version of the world—calmly going about their lives like any other normal town.
Faced with this surreal situation, Orsaga quickly adapted once he realized that the creatures weren't paying him any attention.
After all, if his true body wanted to create such a scene, it wouldn't take much effort.
So, he wasn't too concerned.
What truly concerned him was the force capable of blinding his perception and obscuring the connection between this clone and his real self.
That was something worth taking seriously.
After aimlessly wandering for a while, Orsaga stepped into a roadside diner.
Ignoring the bizarre creatures still loitering outside, he calmly approached the counter and said to the waitress:
"I'll have a black coffee—no sugar, please. Oh, and by the way, is there a library or archive in this town?"
As he pushed open the door and the waitress caught a clear glimpse of him, her eyes lit up.
Scooping coffee powder with enthusiasm, she replied cheerfully:
"Yes! Absolutely! Our town's library and archives are in the same building—it's just a short walk from here! After you step outside, turn left and keep taking five left turns—you'll find it!"
Normally, she wouldn't be so eager to help.
But Orsaga's appearance naturally triggered a favorable response.
So her attitude was unusually friendly.
If only the coffee powder in her hands didn't appear to Orsaga as wriggling chunks of raw meat, or the boiling water she poured didn't look like bubbling hot blood…
Then this would seem like a completely normal scene.
Taking the cup of coffee and eyeing the bloody liquid filled with pulsating meat strips, Orsaga nodded his thanks to the waitress.
Then he lifted the cup and took a careful sip.
As the strange contents squirmed in his stomach for a while before being slowly digested, he murmured:
"…Hmm… not an easy flavor to describe…"
Since he couldn't leave the town, he'd have to eat and drink to sustain himself.
No matter how weird the food looked.
Worst case scenario, he'd just die of food poisoning on the spot!
Not a big deal.
As Orsaga stepped out of the diner, the waitress overheard his muttering and glanced at the coffee powder in her hand, puzzled.
After hesitating for a moment, she dipped her finger into the powder and tasted it.
"Yup… tastes just like normal. Nothing wrong here…"
Then a thought occurred to her—
'Could it be… he's not used to cheap coffee!?'
That explanation made perfect sense to her.
And just like that, she found herself daydreaming about the extravagant life rich people must live—sipping only the most expensive blends of coffee…
___
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