IRGM 03

Chapter 3

 The Dream That Revealed the Lottery Numbers (3)

I cautiously poked my head out and looked down. Beneath the roof attached to the window, I spotted something resembling a U-shaped stake. If I stretched my leg out, I might just be able to reach it.

As I shifted my foot, the wooden roof creaked unpleasantly.

Kreeeeeeak!

Fortunately, no one came rushing into the room.

Taking extreme care not to get tangled in my skirt, I crouched low and crept toward the edge of the roof like a cat.

I can do this. I can do this. If I mess up, I might break an arm or even die, but……

When I finally reached the edge, I gripped the corner and slowly lowered myself down. Thankfully, before all the strength drained from my hands, I felt the tips of my shoes touch the railing.

But just as I breathed a sigh of relief and shifted my weight onto my feet, the long, flowing silk skirt I had let go of while hanging from the roof slid beneath my shoes.

Gasp!

It was practically a miracle that I managed to swallow the scream that instinctively rose in my throat.

I landed heavily on my back, but, fortunately, the railing was only about a meter high, and the ground below was soft dirt.

“Ughhh……”

The impact must have rattled my brain, because a ringing sound filled my ears. But I was still right in front of the terrace connected to the building’s back entrance on the first floor, and I could hear people talking inside.

I didn’t have even a second to sit there and nurse my pain. I staggered to my feet, picked up my handbag, and pressed myself against the wall like some kind of secret agent.

……Okay. I’ve escaped. Now where do I go?

Beside the building I had just escaped from stood countless wooden structures, all more or less identical in appearance.

Could I ask someone for help? But who can I trust? How am I supposed to tell whether they’re working with those men?

As I pondered this, I crouched beneath the window and cautiously crept around the corner. There, I spotted a pile of dirty wooden crates stacked haphazardly in the passage between the buildings.

Beyond them, at last, I could see people moving along the street. I was close enough to reach someone who might be able to help me.

Anxiety overwhelmed me. I could no longer afford to weigh my options carefully. I had to make a run for it, even if it meant screaming for help at the top of my lungs if things went wrong. I kept glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was chasing me.

I crashed into the crates piled in the passage, shoved them aside with frantic swings of my arms, and squeezed through the narrow gap I had created. The whole thing probably took only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing? Get out of the way!”

At the shrill shout, I turned my head—and realized that I had somehow made it out onto the street, right into the path of a large horse rearing up on its hind legs.

Ah……

Sometimes, when you’re shocked beyond belief, you can’t even scream.

I stood frozen in front of the horse, which was pawing the air with its forelegs, while the rider hurled a stream of curses at me. I was as stiff as a person waiting to be executed.

“You crazy woman! Get out of the way! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Fortunately, the reins were yanked back sharply, and after a few backward steps, the horse finally lowered its forelegs obediently to the ground.

Even then, the rider who had nearly killed me continued bellowing at the top of his lungs.

“If you’ve been drinking, you should stay in bed and sleep it off! Why the hell would you suddenly jump out into the road? And why are you still standing there like a statue? Get out of the damn road!”

“I-I’m sorry……”

Only after enduring that entire barrage of abuse did I finally manage to stumble backward, as though a spell had been broken.

“Damn it! What a rotten start to the morning!”

The rider spat out a few more curses before galloping away.

When I looked around at the commotion, I realized that everyone nearby had stopped what they were doing to stare at me.

Two women wearing white bonnets and gray dresses stood across the street, repeatedly casting suspicious glances in my direction. Meanwhile, several men dressed in filthy black work clothes openly leered at me, snickered among themselves, and disappeared into a shop opposite.

The first floor of the building I had escaped from was no different.

Through the window bearing the large word SALOON and the typical swinging doors, I could see people seated around round wooden tables. Even the bartender standing behind the long bar was staring straight at me.

Every single one of them looked as though they had just stepped out of a Western movie.

“Miss, are you all right?”

“Eek!”

Someone grabbed my arm, startling me so badly that I jerked away. When I turned around, I saw a kindly-looking middle-aged woman wearing a black dress reminiscent of something a Puritan might wear.

“I’m sorry! I-I’m fine.”

There was no way I could ask her for help.

I couldn’t see a single person who looked remotely normal—someone who might pull a phone out of their pocket and call the police—instead of wearing these suspicious, bizarre outfits.

I hurriedly glanced back toward the building and scanned the windows on the second floor.

……They haven’t noticed this commotion yet. They still don’t know I’ve escaped.

I had to keep moving. I felt as though the men might come chasing after me at any moment, but I forced myself to leave the area as naturally as possible.

Don’t attract attention. Make sure they can’t tell which direction I went.

With that in mind, I hurried along the edge of the street without any particular destination.

“Extra! Extra! Santa Fonsa factory devastated by a massive fire! Mass bankruptcies feared!”

A boy wearing a newsboy cap shouted as he rushed past me.

“Read all about it! Five cents a copy!”

Riders on horseback and horse-drawn carriages raced continuously along the street, kicking up clouds of pale dust.

Long, black streetlamps stood in rows along both sides of the unpaved road, while similar wooden buildings stretched endlessly into the distance.

Everything about this place screamed the Wild West.

“Look at that woman. She must have gotten absolutely plastered last night.”

“Shh! Keep your voice down. Don’t you know who that is? That’s Lady Walton.”

No matter how far toward the edges of the street I walked, I soon realized that I couldn’t completely escape the attention of the people around me.

It was obvious to anyone that my clothes were a mess. But the bigger problem was that people immediately frowned the moment they heard the name Walton.

I felt as though I had somehow possessed the most obvious villain in some play or novel. Before long, I was on the verge of losing my mind. Eventually, I gave up trying not to attract attention, gathered up my skirt, and ran.

“Huff…… huff……”

My lungs felt as though they were about to burst, and my headache was growing steadily worse. By the time my head was throbbing so badly that it felt as though my heart were beating inside my skull, the wooden buildings had finally disappeared from view.

In their place stood a filthy encampment of tents. Beyond them lay an open wilderness, with low hills dotted here and there with sparse bushes.

But the most unbelievable thing of all was the sign.

WELCOME TO LA COLADA

A large village sign stood beside the road leading out into the wilderness.

“Where the hell is La Colada?”

I had never even watched a Western movie like this. I swear to heaven, I really hadn’t.

“Did I actually get dropped right into the Wild West or something?”

This wasn’t a dream. I wasn’t suffering from sleep paralysis, either. And it wasn’t as though I had died and was seeing the afterlife.

I was perfectly alive and breathing.

Just like the familiar cliché in which someone transmigrates into a fictional character, I didn’t even remember being hit by a truck.

I clearly just came home after finishing my usual overnight loading-and-unloading shift at dawn and went to sleep like I always do.

Sure, I lived in a tiny rented room that flooded every monsoon season, but it was already well past autumn. There was no way I had drowned in a flood while sleeping.

And it wasn’t as though some black magic summoning circle or dimensional portal had suddenly appeared on the old mattress I had used until all its cushioning had collapsed……

Anyway, even if I’ve possessed someone else’s body, my own body was perfectly fine before I went to sleep. That means there must be a way to return to normal.

I just didn’t know how yet. And if I didn’t know, I would have to find out.

I was desperately trying to steady myself, even though I was scared out of my mind, when one of the vagrants sitting around a completely extinguished campfire in front of a tent suddenly called out.

“Lady Walton?”

At first, I had assumed they were simply homeless men. But when I turned around at the sound of the voice, I realized they were something else entirely.

Their clothes were filthy, as though they hadn’t washed or changed in days, but every one of them wore a belt with a holster at the waist.

They were outlaws straight out of a classic Western.

Among them, one man with particularly yellow teeth flashed a crooked grin, exposing his uneven row of teeth as he spoke.

“Eleanor Walton! It really is you. You rotten bitch, give me my money!”

“……Excuse me?”

He sprang to his feet and charged toward me so suddenly that I stumbled backward in alarm. But he was moving several times faster than I could retreat.

“Give me my money! The fifty dollars you owe me!”

The moment he grabbed me, his foul breath washed over my face.

“Wait! Let go of me, and we can talk!”

“What? So you can run away again, just like last time?”

Click.

A sinister metallic sound rang out, and the cold touch of steel pressed against my cheek.

The acrid smell of gunpowder was unmistakable. I could hardly believe that what was happening was actually real.

The outlaw had drawn his gun and was pointing the barrel straight at my face.