Durarara!! Vol. 5

Interlude or Prologue B

Somewhere in Russia

The whispers in Russian slowly sank into the soil as they were blown away by the wind.

“......This is so weird.....I mean, this is so weird..."

Against the backdrop of an immense expansive field, a man seemed to be wound up over something.

He wasn't tall per se, but his skeleton was wide, and the muscles covering it were strong - making him look one size larger than an average guy of his height.

He was somewhere around 40. Donning a white coat over an already white jacket, he could easily have been mistaken for a polar bear from a distance.

Layers of scarves were wrapped around his head. White puffs of moisture were coming from his open mouth as if he were a steam engine train.

"This is really weird. I don't feel like there's a way out of this......"

Around him there were about ten other guys, one of which - a bespectacled middle-aged man, asked with all seriousness in the world -

"What could possibly be bothering you, Comrade Lingerin?"

“Huh? Ohh......ohhh. Listen Drakon. This is really weird."

"What exactly is it?"

The man who had just been referred to as "Drakon" asked as he looked at the other man's hands.

He saw two narrow-necked jars - which the man named Lingerin had somehow squeezed his left and right hand into respectively.

"Look at this, Drakon."

"......"

Lingerin raised the jars high without trying to retract his hands.

His silhouette looked as if it were wearing boxing gloves. Drakon eyed him with a serious face and - without even a drop of cold sweat on his back - spoke again.

"What happened to you, Comrade Lingerin?"

Lingerin replied to that with a serious face of his own as he shook the jars slightly.

"I can't get my hands out."

Silence reigned for a while among the men; Drakon, however, simply pushed his glasses as he replied.

"That is really a big deal."

"I was trying to get something inside these jars, and somehow can't get my hands out."

Anyone else would have thought they'd been made fun of at this point and laughed hollowly - yet Drakon replied again with unabated seriousness.

Though his reply had a tone of resignation to it.

"Well. If worst comes to worst, you'll just have to spend your whole life like that."

"That would be problematic. How am I supposed to eat or shit like this?"

"Nothing is impossible in the great Russia. The immense expanses of Russian soil would take the likes of Comrade Lingerin any time with motherly warmth to feed the growth of a new generation."

"Hmm? .......Did you just say I'm gonna be buried or something? Did you just skip a lot of chapters about my life? Why, Drakon?"

Lingerin tilted his head. Drakon pushed his glasses again as he spoke.

"Then I'll just be straightforward. Give up the thought of living. Both physically and mentally."

"Even when you say you're straightforward you're basically telling me to die in a long-winded way. Aren't you just getting more fearsome?"