Soukoku Dead Apple Novels & Stories

They were there because of the story Everett had spread. Every one of them had watched Stellan's coffin being carried out for burial. Every one of them knew that he had died on the battlefield. Now, a 'dead man' had just climbed out of his own coffin, and the murmuring was growing louder by the second. "Who is that? Isn't the general supposed to be dead?" "That's what I'm saying. It's already been seven days since he died. Where did this man come from?" "He's probably a fraud, right? Trying to pass himself off as the general for money?"

"Takanashi-kun, are you bad with that boy?" Takanashi was startled and looked at the young man who suddenly talked to him. He let out a long sigh and said, "Souma-san, don't talk startle me..." He was helpless but didn't say too much since he was a bit scared of this young man. Souma looked in the direction of Monica and Togo but raised his eyebrow. "What's wrong, Souma-san, do you know them?" Takanashi asked. Souma's eyes opened slightly and said, "The woman is fairly famous, she is the "Merchant of Death", the famous weapon dealer, Togo Tomari."

To win votes for the school's annual honors award, my stingy roommate picked rotten fruit out of the trash and made it into fruit cups for our classmates. The moment I found out, I rushed to stop them from eating it. Instead, they accused me of being jealous and tore into me for trying to ruin their chances. That very night, they were rushed to the hospital with severe food poisoning. Afterward, my roommate framed me, claiming I had deliberately poisoned the fruit because I did not want her to win the school honors award. She even hid a bottle of pesticide in my locker and convinced our other two roommates to lie for her. With no way to prove my innocence, I became the target of furious

His voice was low and clear as he announced, "He has been dead for over three days. The body shows clear signs of postmortem lividity and early bloating. The victim appears to have died from mechanical suffocation." Hearing the words "dead for over three days", Dad reeled. The color drained from his face instantly, leaving him as pale as a sheet of paper. When an officer pulled back the white cloth covering my face for identification, Dad finally got a clear look at my swollen, distorted features, mottled with dark purple spots. He could no longer explain it away as paint or a tantrum. The next second, he doubled over against the wall, dry-heaving violently as if he were going to throw up hi