On the very front of the noticeboard, there's a message that's been pinned up.
The paper is stark white, the letters written in a slightly-curving navy ink.
Gensoukyou was made for us-- the forgotten, the hunted, the strange. We live here because we could not live or survive in the world beyond, with the menace of modern society casting angry eyes upon those who don't blend in.
Normal humans don't belong here. They can make a living in the outside world and survive happily, as they've nothing strange to gaze upon.
What are you doing here? You've come here, somehow survived past being killed and eaten, and made yourself a town of your own.
You are simply guests in Gensoukyou, the place we call our home.
This is our world, yet you have the nerve to tell us what to do.
If you stay and live by our rules, accept that death will happen.
Life survives by preying upon other life, and you follow that very rule by killing your cattle and harvesting your crops, but you blame and hope to punish those who kill humans to sustain themselves. Isn't there an old saying called "practice what you preach"?
I am watching, and if anyone dares provoke violence with us, we who live happily and peacefully in all manners but necessities, you will meet a swift death. You will become a statistic under the butcher's knife, and you will be forgotten.
Even after our struggle fades back into obscurity through some loophole or resource utilized, this pattern will continue. You will go right back to shaking a finger at youkai that simply follow their nature, and even more hate is fostered.
This cycle can not allow itself to continue, lest you destroy yourselves.
This world is not yours, so live by our rules, or go home... and perhaps die trying.
The bottom of the paper is splashed with dried blood.