It's been two months, so I think it's time for another self-introduction.
The mysterious man.
The Dark Lord.
That guy.
Mr. Diary.
The spoiler bastard…
Call me whatever you want. Names are just labels.
Either way, I'm not revealing my real name.
I don't know if anyone remembers—or if any of you even saw it—but in my very first diary entry, I wrote something important.
I am a "transmigrator."
Well… that's just the easiest way to describe it.
Maybe I'm not actually a transmigrator.
Maybe I'm the projection of some higher-dimensional lifeform.
Maybe I'm a lucky guy who received information from another world.
Or maybe some powerful being created me as an information monster just for entertainment.
But none of that really matters.
The reason I'm bringing this up again is simply to explain my existence to the new readers who might not have seen my first entry.
Am I omniscient?
Omnipotent?
No. Of course not.
But one thing is certain:
I know far more than you could possibly imagine.
That's my confidence.
That's the foundation that allows me to write these diaries.
I can write about the hidden past buried deep in your hearts.
And I can write about the future that may come to pass.
Over the past two months, I've stuck to a simple rule:
No spoilers unless necessary.
I tried to balance trolling and spoilers, keeping things just right.
Only writing diary entries on days when something interesting happened at that damn vocational school called Advanced Nurturing High.
It made sense.
After all, even if it's a diary, that doesn't mean every single day has to be spectacular.
Right?
But the longer I followed that idea…
the more I started to feel like something was binding me.
Not something placed on me by others.
But shackles I put on myself.
…And that's wrong.
I'm supposed to be free.
I should be more unrestrained.
More impulsive.
Have you ever heard of the hierarchy rule in hospitals?
The head of nursing can scold the department head nurse.
The department head nurse can scold the ward head nurse.
The ward head nurse can scold the nurses.
And me?
I'm the patient wearing blue-and-white hospital stripes.
I can curse whoever the hell I want!
If I want to roast Kikyō Kushida, I'll roast Kushida.
If I want to slander Suzune Horikita, I'll slander Horikita.
If I want to curse Saé Chabashira, I'll curse Chabashira.
Why should I worry about timing?
Why should I care about "plot"?
Why should I hold back?
This notebook in my hand is a diary that gives rewards for writing random crap.
It's not some damn notebook where I have to plot and scheme and squeeze my brain dry to produce clever writing just to earn rewards.
To be blunt—
Yesterday's diary entry wasn't that good.
Sure, I spent a ton of time thinking about it.
Polishing it.
Burning brain cells to prepare it.
But it wasn't fun at all.
The only thing it did was make me look like some lunatic who gets high and punches penguins.
And yet—
Even with a diary like that, the notebook still gave me a pretty decent reward.
What reward?
I'm not telling you.
It has nothing to do with you anyway.
The point is simple:
I'm going off the rails now.
And no one can stop me.
So now—
Tell me your name.
I'll fight for you.
You can leave comments, right?
Don't tell me even the damn Baumkuchen can leave comments but you can't.
Leave a message.
Write your names.
Whether you're a penguin or a stress monster.
A lifelong vegetarian or a pink baby dragon.
Even if you're just a stray cat.
Write your name.
And I'll help you with everything I know.
Whether you want to turn from a penguin into a human…
Or restore the dynasty of Country C…
Or just play an explosive LIVE…
Or chase after pure vanity.
I'll do everything I can.
Honestly, even if I said nothing and did nothing…
You'd probably still stumble your way to a happy group ending after all the chaos.
But I don't like that.
That kind of conclusion.
That kind of development.
That kind of future.
I don't want it.
I want to smear it into chaos.
I want to tear it apart and remake it.
Got it?]
"…."
The diary ended there.
Arrogant.
Wild.
Overflowing with unrestrained emotion.
Even though it was just words on paper, Anon Chihaya could feel the overwhelming emotion behind them.
He was serious.
He was free.
Just like he said—
No one had ever stopped him from writing the diary.
The only thing that ever restrained him…
was himself.
"…."
Her heart pounded.
When she finally pulled her mind away from the words and realized she was only staring at text—not the person who wrote them—
Anon let out a long breath.
Her heart was still racing.
So amazing!
Stars seemed to sparkle in the girl's eyes.
Those wild words reminded her of the very first diary entry she had ever read.
"I know your past.
I understand your present.
I see your future."
"Your past, present, and future have all been kidnapped by me."
She remembered now.
Out of the two entire months of diary entries—
those first two lines were still her favorites.
Her heart thumped faster.
But…
After calming down slightly and hearing the familiar sound of Reading Points +1, Anon didn't immediately write her name.
Instead, she looked carefully at the diary again.
Because besides his declaration—
the last part of the diary had also left a few hints.
A vague way of identifying who should reply.
"Lifelong vegetarian" must be Soyo.
"Stray cat" had to be Rāna Kaname.
And "penguin"… could that be Tomori Takamatsu?
That meant only two people were left—
Taki and herself.
"Stress monster"… that must be Taki Shiina.
Which meant she herself was…
"Pink baby dragon"?
What kind of ridiculous nickname is that?!
Okay, sure, her hair was pink…
But what the heck was a baby dragon?!
Once her emotions cooled and she looked more carefully, her mind filled with questions.
Not just the nicknames—
but also the goals listed below.
The things he said he could help with.
There were only four lines.
"Explosive LIVE" must refer to Rāna.
But she had absolutely no idea who the lines about
"becoming human"
or
"reviving the C Kingdom dynasty"
were supposed to mean.
…Forget it!
Anon slammed the diary open to the comment section, grabbed a pen, and without hesitation wrote down her name.
"Anon Chihaya."
Then she closed the diary with determination.
Mr. Diary… I'm leaving it to you!
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