It was at the rustic village where I dropped on during the journey from Okayama to Tottori that I had that hideous experience which defied descriptions. So small was the village that the regular bus service stopped there only twice a day. Hearing of that at the ticket-office in Okayama, I was inclined to visit it, because I was pretty interested in the scenery in the Japanese countryside. Amazingly enough, the village looked as if it remained what it used to be a century ago. At the same time, I was perplexed by the lingering stares that the villagers, especially female ones, gave me. After half an hour's stroll, I saw the man whom I had never expected to encounter in such a countryside―the Western man with eyes in the same colour as mine. He seemed to have lost the vigour and sanity, and though about forty, he had something that reminded me of a man of senile dementia. He suddenly approached me and, looking around us to see if any other was watching, shouted, "You'd better leave here right now. Beat it, or THEY will catch you! THEY are...EH-AHHHH!!" I returned to the bus stop only to find that, by bad luck, the last bus had broken down and I was obliged to stay in an inn there. In the inn midnight, I was awakened by weird whispers behind the door. The next moment, the door being broken open, there came three girls or four without any clothing into the room. And one of them screamed, "Fuck me!" When, jumping down through the window, I was desperately fleeing the cursed village, fortunately, a lorry bound to Tottori picked me up. Even now I shiver to imagine that, if I had failed to escape, they might have made me a slave like as that white guy,.
