by Carlo Zen
Copyright
The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 1
Carlo Zen
Translation by Emily Balistrieri, Kevin Steinbach
Cover art by Shinobu Shinotsuki
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
YOJO SENKI Vol. 1 Deus lo Vult
© 2017 Carlo Zen
All rights reserved.
First published in Japan in 2013 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION ENTERBRAIN
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION ENTERBRAIN through TUTTLE-MORI AGENCY, INC., Tokyo.
English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Zen, Carlo, author. | Shinotsuki, Shinobu, illustrator. | Balistrieri, Emily, translator. | Steinbach, Kevin, translator.
Title: Saga of Tanya the evil / Carlo Zen ; illustration by Shinobu Shinotsuki ; translation by Emily Balistrieri, Kevin Steinbach.
Other titles: Yōjo Senki. English
Description: First Yen On edition. | New York : Yen ON, 2017-
Identifiers: LCCN 2017044721 | ISBN 9780316512442 (v. 1 : pbk.)
Classification: LCC PL878.E6 Y6513 2017 | DDC 895.63/6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017044721
ISBNs: 978-0-316-51244-2 (paperback)
978-0-316-51245-9 (ebook)
E3-20171111-JV-PC
[chapter] 0 Prologue
JULY 18, UNIFIED YEAR 1914, SOMEWHERE IN IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN
In the beginning, there was only light. Then came a gentle sensation of floating, a brief repose. There was warmth and a vague restlessness, provoking a desire to lose oneself. Lose oneself? Yes, I’ve forgotten something. But what could it be? What could I have possibly forgotten?
Before a chance to face such questions came along, it suddenly began shivering. A moment later, its mind registered the cold. A chill that pierced the skin. Such was the nature of a newborn babe’s first brush with the crisp, raw air outside the womb. Not that there was time to realize.
But the sudden onslaught of alien yet once familiar sensations caused a panic. At the same time, it began writhing in distress, caught up in a violent struggle to breathe. The pain was nearly unbearable as the lungs—the entire body, each and every cell—cried out for oxygen. Unable to remain calm enough for rational thought, all it could do was thrash about.
The overwhelmed, unresponsive senses ravaged by agony left no option other than flailing in pain. Strangled by these things, it easily lost consciousness. Fully free of the emotions of a human who hadn’t wept in ages, the body sobbed instinctively.
Awareness faded, and the concept of self grew muddled. Upon awakening, it saw the ashen sky. The world was blurry… Or perhaps that was due to hazy vision? Everything seemed distorted, as if seen through glasses with the wrong prescription.
Despite having been out of touch with human emotions for so long, even it was unsettled by such clouded eyesight. It was impossible to discern even rough shapes.
After nearly three years of objective time, having finally begun to regain a sense of self, it was struck with utter confusion.
What is this? What happened to me? This vessel couldn’t maintain awareness for very long, and the memory of being placed in it had yet to surface. So when its fading consciousness just barely registered an infant’s wails, it found the cries shameful yet failed to understand why.
Perhaps mature adults didn’t cry, but babies certainly did. Infants were supposed to be protected and given equal opportunities, not despised. Thus, with a deep sense of relief, it relegated the vague shame to a dark corner of its mind, blaming it on the lack of a clear consciousness.
The next time a hazy sense of comprehension dawned, it was absolutely bewildered, not surprisingly. If memory served correctly, it should have been on a Yamanote train platform. Yet after coming to, it was somehow inside a massive Western-style stone building, getting its mouth wiped by a nun who seemed to be a nursemaid. If this was a hospital, then a safe assumption could be made that there had been some sort of accident. Blurry vision could be explained by injury as well.
Yet now that its eyes could see clearly in the poor lighting, it could make out nuns in old-fashioned dress. And the inadequate illumination…apparently came from anachronistic gas lamps, unless things were not what they seemed.
“Tanya, dear, say ‘ahh.’”
At the same time, it noticed a bizarre lack of electrical appliances nearby. In the civilized society of 2013, here was a room devoid of electronics yet riddled with items long considered antiques. Are they Mennonites or Amish? But…why? What am I doing here with them?
“Tanya, dear. Tanya!”
The situation was a difficult one to grasp. The confusion only deepened.
“Come now. Won’t you open your mouth for me, dear? Tanya?”
I don’t understand. That was precisely the problem. That was why it hadn’t noticed the spoon the nun held out. But of course. Even if it had, never in a million years would it have dreamed of eating the proffered food. Surely the spoon was meant for this “Tanya, dear.”
But while all these thoughts were swirling around, the nun finally lost her patience. With a sweet yet stern smile that brooked no argument, she stuffed the spoon into its mouth.
“You mustn’t be picky, dear. Open up!”
It was a scoop of vegetables that had been stewed into mush. But that single spoonful also thrust the truth at hitherto uncomprehending “Tanya.”
Stewed vegetables. That’s all the nun had stuffed into its mouth. But for the person in question, the action only made things more bewildering. In other words, it—I—am Tanya.
Thus, a cry arose from the depths of its soul: Why?
AUGUST 14, AD 1971, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
On August 14, 1971, a team of researchers led by Dr. Philip Zimbardo commenced an experiment under a grant received from the United States Department of the Navy’s research institute, the Office of Naval Research (ONR). The planned duration was a mere two weeks. Its objective was to collect rudimentary data on an issue with Marine Corps prisons that the navy was also facing.
The participants recruited for this experiment were normal college students of sound mind and body. On the second day, however, the team ran into a serious ethical problem.
Not only did those who had been assigned to be guards verbally abuse and degrade the ones in the prisoner role, despite the prohibition of such behavior, but also acts of physical violence had become increasingly prevalent. As a result, the t
eam was forced to discontinue the trial only six days after it began.
This later became known as the Stanford Prison Experiment. Ironically enough, notwithstanding the pitfalls of the project’s dubious morality, the results were replete with implications for the field of psychology. Along with its predecessor, the Milgram Experiment, the Stanford Prison Experiment demonstrated something fundamental about human nature.
In an isolated space, individuals would submit to power and authority, while those in dominant positions would wield it without restriction. Analysis of this phenomenon, known as “obedience to authority,” yielded shocking results. Surprisingly, this deference had nothing to do with a person’s rationality, sensibility, or personality but was instead the product of remarkable deindividuation triggered by the assignment of roles.
In other words, the two experiments demonstrated that human behavior was dependent on environment. To put it in extreme terms, the results indicated that anyone could have worked as a guard at Auschwitz, regardless of their individual disposition or moral character.
In the end, environment played a larger role defining an individual than personal traits. When he learned in university that humans were that sort of creature, it felt right rather than wrong.
Surely everyone learns as part of compulsory education in elementary school that all people are born equal. Children are taught that they are all equally unique and irreplaceable. But it isn’t hard to find disparities that contradict those familiar maxims.
Why is the kid sitting in front taller than me?
Why are some of my classmates good at dodgeball and others aren’t?
Why can’t the kid next to me solve such a simple problem?
Why can’t the kids in the back be quiet when the teacher’s talking?
But in an elementary school environment, children are expected to be “good.” They are told that everyone is different yet special. They are terrified that if they don’t follow etiquette, they will be “bad.” And so the “good kids” strive to avoid becoming “bad.”
By the time they begin attending cram schools to prepare for entrance exams, the good kids secretly look down on the bad kids and make a point of avoiding them. They will enter a good junior high, followed by a respectable high school, and then a prestigious university. These people are on the fastest track, doing their best within the rules and regulations presented to them.
In order to remain good in that environment, students have to do exactly as they are told and always meet everyone’s expectations. Just as they are told, they spend day after day hunched over textbooks and reference books, competing with classmates for grades. As they lead such a life, those engaged in the fierce battle of college entrance exams come to view idlers as losers. Within an environment where grades determine everything, it’s only natural for high achievers to hold poor students in contempt. On the other hand, the majority of those successful students don’t consider themselves especially bright. After all, it has long been the case that whenever a regular student shows even a little pride, the truly gifted in their grade put them in their place.
One student might be having a hard time while the kid next to him is nonchalantly entering the International Physics or International Mathematical Olympiads. It takes more than a little effort to sit shoulder to shoulder in a classroom with geniuses for whom comprehending all the material is a given. Despite the warped perspective, they have a strong enough grasp on reality to diligently pursue their studies.
Whether they like it or not, all college-bound students know the truth. If they want an income comparable to what their parents possess, they have to attend a good university and get a decent job, at the very least. This group is driven by a strong, youthful desire to succeed. But along with that desire comes the fatal fear of failure. As such, they have no choice but to chain themselves to their desks.
After struggling in that harsh world, the best students pass the entrance exams for universities worthy of being called “prestigious.” Then the game changes. Many are forced to realize that they have entered a world where people are no longer evaluated by grades but the question What have you achieved?
Those who can adapt to the sudden paradigm shift and new environment do. Obey the rules. Search for the loopholes. Sneer at the guidelines despite being bound by them. In the end, everyone learns that rules are necessary to make the system run smoothly.
Freedom without laws means anarchy; laws without freedom means tyranny. So as much as they hate restrictions, they fear unlimited freedom.
He failed to understand people who came late to class. He couldn’t see the value of people who drank themselves into oblivion. He couldn’t comprehend the sporty types who droned on about the power of the human spirit.
But when he encountered the Chicago school1 and saw how these works applied rationality to the relationship between rules and freedom, he was ecstatic. After all, it meant that he could stay on track as long as he played by the rules. He managed to exude the appearance of a diligent university student while hiding the fact that he was a nerd. In essence, that’s what it meant to be free within the confines of the rules.
As far as friends were concerned, he enjoyed hanging around with his high school buddies as well as a bunch of kindred spirits he met in college. This was his moratorium until he went out into the world, although he still made sure to improve himself and develop connections. Naturally, he invested in his human capital by acquiring language skills and culture to a point. That plus his educational background, according to the theory of signaling, would project society’s ideal of a “good college student.”
Surprisingly, what people like him needed wasn’t actually talent; the most important thing was looking good on paper. In other words, recruiters preferred someone who passed the company’s exam with flying colors, came from a prestigious school, and was a familiar face to the interviewers. It was for precisely that reason that the headwind of the recession’s employment slump didn’t particularly blow against him.
After all, he was on his mark at a different starting line compared to everyone else. In truth, he had the advantage—this contest was completely rigged. From the get-go, it was only natural to visit alumni who came from the same alma mater. In fact, he’d gone so far as to accept invitations to grab a few drinks with the recruiters from human resources.
Now just imagine if someone on the employment side attended the same junior and senior high or was a graduate of his college. They would offer guidance about what qualities recruiters looked for at such and such company and how to present himself in the interviews.
As long as he combined his various connections and did decently in the interviews, he would have nothing to worry about. If he wasn’t too picky, he could get a job that put food on the table for sure. By obediently doing whatever he was told, he became a societal gear that performed well at a steady pace. Somewhere along the line, he began to view himself as a mature adult in that work setting.
Job satisfaction? Individuality? Creativity? He was a cog in society, and he could assert that the content of his work didn’t matter as long as he received fair compensation. From the company’s perspective, the ideal employee was required to complete assignments promptly while maintaining a level of quality appropriate to their salary. Adhering to the company’s philosophy in all things, the ideal employee would take initiative and search for ways to turn a profit. It wasn’t terribly difficult for him to adapt to life as a slave to corporate logic.
Heartless? Robotic? Callous? Impersonal? Concerns of that nature only troubled him in the very beginning. He was terrified of people who howled ingloriously or resorted to violence; it wasn’t possible for him to comprehend such disgraceful behavior. But with time, he acclimated. It was just like school.
Humans are creatures designed to adapt to change. When it comes down to it, conforming to the environment means assuming one’s assigned role—a guard acts like a guard, and a prisoner acts like a prisoner. The days passed un
eventfully, alternating between work and hobbies. Naturally, work progressed efficiently. Following company directives and avoiding mistakes as much as possible were important to not let work cut into precious free time.
Consequently, by the time he entered his thirties, he not only was close to matching his parents’ income, but also had most definitely gotten on the promotion track. He was highly regarded for his devotion to the company and loyalty to the executives, and he climbed the advancement ladder in the human resources department. He even received a touchstone award as a section manager.
Yes, that’s right. I had an important job. There is absolutely no reason—none whatsoever—for a nun to stuff a spoonful of boiled vegetables down my throat. I’m being quite the gentleman, not even screaming at the top of my lungs to demand what right you have to call me “Tanya, dear.”
Growing impatient, he attempted to stand in order to launch his “why me” tirade. That was when it hit him. His head throbbed as unpleasant memories suddenly surfaced.
FEBRUARY 22, AD 2013, TOKYO, JAPAN
“Why? Why me?!”
Why? It’s obviously because your cost performance is abysmal! On top of that, you’ve been absent quite a lot. And as another nail in the coffin, I have a report from your direct supervisor claiming that you’ve taken out multiple cash advance loans of who knows how much. Plus, you adamantly refuse to see the occupational physician at every turn. In conclusion, it’s clear that you’re becoming a costly employee. More importantly, we can’t have you causing some sort of scandal and marring the company’s good name.
I’d love to ask you, Is there any reason we should keep you on board? But due to certain laws, I must conceal such sentiments deep within my heart and respond with as much tact as possible.
“You’ve already failed to complete your PIP twice. The company gave you a perfectly reasonable order to attend PIP completion training, but you refused. And you have numerous unexcused absences.” False courtesy? That’s just fine. It’s not prohibited by law. This is a for-profit corporation, not a charity for the societally inept. “That said, as you’ve contributed to our company for such a long time, I believe a voluntary resignation, rather than a disciplinary dismissal, would better serve both our interests.”
