Mated to the Cursed Werepire

This is becoming my favorite story of all time!! Muse just keeps hitting them out of the park...goodness!!!

great book thank you

Freesia is a relatively straightforward Psychological, Action, Drama manga that tends to elicit one of two reactions: you'll either find it engaging or quickly lose interest.

The story revolves around criminals released early due to prison overcrowding, leading the government to enact a new "Vengeance Law." This law permits individuals to hire Enforcers to eliminate ex-cons who have wronged them or their families. While the premise is simple and easy to follow, the author complicates it with psychological elements. Despite its intriguing plot and potential, the narrative occasionally falters by introducing random elements, such as an unrelated war.

The artwork starts off poorly, characterized by the author's signature sketchy style. Although it improves over time, it remains subpar.

Most characters exhibit varying degrees of insanity, particularly the protagonist, Kano, who frequently talks to himself. However, one or two characters are eventually well-developed. Freesia initially struggled in quality but has shown improvement, encouraging readers to continue with the next volume. Hopefully, the story will see significant enhancements moving forward.

^_^

This manga was extremely outlandish. It featured a reasonably engaging plot. The idea of enforcers, the political landscape, corruption, and the system as a whole was quite intriguing. This, coupled with some decent action during enforcement missions and the narratives of those targeted yet striving to survive, made each episode captivating. Nevertheless, there were significant problems with the main characters, as they were all mentally unstable, which is understandable given their line of work. Kano, the protagonist, was particularly erratic. While this approach can occasionally be effective, here it was simply absurd, with him often acting irrationally and much of what occurred being hallucinatory. Initially, it was fascinating, but the novelty soon faded, leaving the impression that there was no purpose to it. Amidst the chaos, there might have been some profound social commentary, but I couldn't discern it. Ultimately, everything felt meaningless, with no clear reason for why events unfolded as they did or why we should care about any of it or the people involved, as everyone who seemed even remotely likable met an unfortunate end. Additionally, the art style was very crude and, to be honest, rather poor.  

tl;dr: A manga that is bizarre in every aspect, making it difficult to become invested in any part of it.  
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As one person noted in another context, Freesia stands out as a remarkable manga for those who have experienced trauma. Your enjoyment of this manga largely hinges on your capacity and readiness to connect with a cast entirely made up of deeply troubled individuals, including maniacs and madmen. If it doesn't resonate with you, you might perceive it as a feeble political satire on contemporary society, riddled with contrived nonsensical dialogues and irrational actions. However, if you can align with the characters' peculiarities, you'll find it to be a clever discourse on the two most crucial quests any individual undertakes throughout their life – the pursuit of purpose and the quest for equilibrium.

Freesia does not include sane characters in its primary lineup; the trio of protagonists comprises a clinically insane individual, a psycho, and an idealist. The main character, Kano, is an unstable schizophrenic who regularly experiences hallucinations, delusions, and memory lapses. He somewhat offsets these issues with his ability to turn invisible. (The setting isn't strictly realistic, allowing for some use of ESP powers.) Technically, the plot revolves around the cases handled by the vengeance killing company that employs the three main characters, but the author is more intrigued by the personal narratives of the company's employees and their victims. The manga delves into how people influence each other both physically and mentally. (The revenge agency isn't the focal point; I'm unsure why people dwell on it extensively in reviews.)

The standout feature of Freesia is that it is unflinching. It doesn't sugarcoat its characters, nor does it sympathize with them, even during their darkest moments, all while infusing a significant amount of dark humor. Be cautious, though, as the manga includes substantial gore and several scenes involving rape.

The artwork may not appeal to everyone. It isn't polished or aesthetically pleasing intentionally. However, if you've read works by Nihei or are familiar with Dorohedoro, you'll likely appreciate its charm. The illustrations are raw, rough, and gritty, with backgrounds rich in detail and faces often simplified for expressiveness. The composition is exceptional. The art style evolves slightly from volume to volume: the initial ones are a bit rough, while the last two have a somewhat different tone.

Freesia embodies many traits characteristic of Matsumoto's works – it's dark, gritty, satirical, and twisted. Yet, while some of his recent mangas seem to prioritize style over substance, Freesia remains highly focused and content-heavy. It is a profoundly mature and ultimately humane commentary on the complexities of living and the constant battle we must wage against the world within and around us.

This manga tells the story of a former soldier who is mentally unstable and takes up a job as a proxy enforcer in legally sanctioned assassinations of criminals. However, at its core, this narrative delves into the impacts of war, bureaucracy, and propaganda on both collective consciousness and individuals, exploring how people deceive themselves to cope with these realities.

It achieves this by interweaving three ongoing narratives: those of the criminals, the proxy enforcers, and snippets about the current political landscape. The latter isn't directly examined but is subtly referenced in a manner that even minimal attention should make noticeable.

It could have been flawless were it not for the overused metaphor of hunter and prey, along with a cheap derivative technique that stems from it. Honestly, if the other aspects weren't so strong, I would have stopped reading due to that.

The shooting scenes are undeniably cool yet marred by the poor technique mentioned earlier; nonetheless, they remain entertaining and cathartic.

The art leans towards realism and features some trippy moments, effectively complementing the tone and substance of the story.

In conclusion, this is an impressive work hindered by just one significant flaw.

In a contemporary Japan inexplicably embroiled in war against vague foreign adversaries, its prisons emptied to bolster the military ranks, and its populace incessantly reminded via public loudspeakers, we are introduced to a delusional young man named Hiroshi. This individual converses with an imaginary companion while dispatching others with unsettling ease, thanks to a intriguingly obscured past.

This initially unflappable man secures employment as a proxy for those seeking vengeance, facilitated by a newly enacted Vengeance Act. So absurd is this legislation that even its creator, author Jiro Matsumoto, chuckles as he pens this brilliant manga. We find ourselves in a Japan where courts entertain petitions from crime victims, subsequently notifying local vengeance enforcement agencies, which then inform the intended targets before employing government proxy enforcers—essentially assassins—to hunt down and eliminate anyone the victim holds a grudge against, regardless of whether the accused has already served their sentence.

This preposterous concept is counterbalanced by granting ex-convicts prior knowledge of the commencement date of the hunt, along with the provision of a weapon and the option of a bodyguard for self-defense. "It's not a death sentence!" quips a character cheerfully. The governance of Japan remains meticulously organized, detailed to the extent of possessing a comprehensive manual of rules and regulations ensuring the 'rights' of both proxies and targets of retribution. A government entrenched in a politically correct culture, yielding a scenario both amusing due to its proximity to reality and alarming because it isn't, yet might become so.

If the individual who wronged your loved ones were released from prison, would you engage an agency to legally attempt their assassination on your behalf? Would you personally undertake such an endeavor? Or would you strive to forget and move forward? Welcome to the world of Freesia. As audacious as the Vengeance Act may be, it arises out of necessity to support the war effort and appease the aggrieved families of victims who consider it unjust to release criminals prematurely or at all.

Beyond the foundational premise anchoring the narrative, there exists an additional layer involving a cast predominantly composed of mentally unstable narcissists perpetually clashing. The central conflict ensues between Hiroshi and a mysterious woman employed by an enforcer agency, whose presence unsettles him, compelling him to question his entire lifestyle. Another adversary emerges in the form of a fellow proxy enforcer who identifies as a hunter and perceives Hiroshi's non-prey demeanor as a threat. Matsumoto escalates the tension through numerous hallucinations and introspective moments experienced by Hiroshi, a product of the depicted insane environment.

Jiro Matsumoto's wit is nothing short of scathing. Black humor permeates nearly every panel of this grim tale, characterized by nonchalant remarks and payoffs so dry that one must appreciate Kafka-esque absurdity to enjoy it; otherwise, they might recoil in baffled repulsion.

Matsumoto's narrative meanders from straightforward laughs, like unexpected sex involving an unfortunate elderly woman, to cruelly sharp wit exemplified by the first instance of the Vengeance Act being delivered to a bewildered mother of a killer who has already fulfilled his sentence, culminating in darker territory with flashbacks of harrowing events such as rape and murder—moments far removed from eliciting laughter. The full ramifications of instituting such a government-sponsored act are thoroughly examined across various scenarios, each handled with unwavering resolve.

In summary: Matsumoto excels in storytelling and the deployment of humor. He expertly knows when to deliver punches and when to temper them (though 'tempering' here implies conventional humor rather than something conjured from the depths of a demonic realm). He adeptly injects specific types of comedy into scenes, showcasing mastery of his craft with devastating punchlines.

The artwork adheres to typical Matsumoto style, appearing hastily drawn upon initial inspection but revealing intricate details upon closer examination, with much occurring in the background. The composition is skillful, creating a stark contrast to the polished appearance of most manga. His artistic universe feels lived-in, oddly enough, owing to the care and attention to detail despite its seemingly crude appearance, imbuing it with charm and vitality.

Freesia offers ample laughter but transcends mere comedy. Its execution of the bold premise and wild satire render it too intricately crafted for such simplicity. Though occasionally veering into supernatural action escapades, it maintains a surreal ambiance consistent with the psychological instability of its characters.

Freesia aligns with works like Joseph Heller's Catch-22, Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five, and Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club. It serves as a reflection of the present, a whimsical sketch envisioning the future; it embodies the finest kind of narrative, rich in content, vividly told, and brimming with creatively irreverent flair.

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What the hell am I supposed to think about it?

To provide a brief introduction, we're placed in a slightly dystopian, realistic future world. The economy is in shambles, crime rates are soaring, technological progress has stagnated, and jobs involving killing people have become ordinary. A government agency introduces a vengeance act that benefits our schizophrenic, master hitman protagonist, Kano, giving him an opportunity to secure a job and establish a safe routine. I dove in without a synopsis, but that was a huge mistake. Everything at the start unfolds within the mind of a mentally ill individual who can't comprehend what's happening around him.

We explore how he handles his work, his visions, and constant hallucinations. He's the most unreliable protagonist I've ever encountered. Instead of the author obscuring the story, it's the protagonist himself who can't grasp it. He battles against the plot, trying to control and organize what doesn't make sense in this chaotic world. After some time, just as the protagonist finds a routine, the plot stabilizes, and we get a semblance of rhythm.

The narrative shifts perspectives to those who must be assassinated by the protagonist. We experience their lives, their struggles, and the death that awaits them. Amidst all the edgy and grim concepts, there's a human element—following those with good hearts or those who genuinely regret their mistakes. The world crashes down with the relentless power of Kano, who thinks nothing of death.

Bewildering, strange, confused? I'm confused about being confused. By the end, the message was quite clear, especially with that conclusion, but something still feels off. I've read many stories where the lesson was the absence of one. Sometimes, life throws curveballs that mean nothing, hurting people and involving them in the worst experiences imaginable. But, this had all that while still attempting to convey a message. Something in the void, a mix of violence, sexual assault, domestic violence, suicide, mental illness, throw in some dementia, PTSD. It's a cocktail of destruction and the worst aspects of humanity. Those who deserve to die will be the only ones to survive.

I suppose, or rather, I hope, it's about the lies we tell ourselves. In this world of terrible acts committed against everyone, we must not fabricate a world where they don't occur. We have no friends, but that's not an excuse to pretend life has no meaning or value. We should embrace the absurdity, the pain, loneliness, and violence, and only then can we see the value in life. I think that's it, and I hope that's it.

It's tough to transition into the artistic aspects smoothly, so I'll just highlight how impressive the art is. If there's anything I loved, it was the brutal, sketchy art that perfectly encapsulates this dreadful world. Dark, ugly, disgusting at times. You can always feel the impact of fight scenes on the damage inflicted on people. There's a gimmick where we don't see the reaction immediately after someone suffers harm; instead, we linger on the wound while their faces remain calm, right before the suffering begins. It feels so deliberate that I struggle to critique the rest.

This isn't an easy story to discuss. There's much I still need to ponder, but it definitely wasn't entirely for me. I had difficulty reading or engaging with the dialogue. The action scenes, and the main character using this odd predator vs. prey allegory as a power against others, felt exactly like the protagonist's mind—a scrambled mess of emotions, bursting with a desire to understand the world around him, yet ultimately failing. He only managed to understand himself and used it as a cautionary lesson for himself.

8/10. Absolutely not for everyone. The events in this manga are truly despicable, and many won't connect with the narrative style. I had to restart after the first few chapters. Still, there's a peculiar level of humanity here, and a strange lesson that draws you in. Give it a try, but even I struggle to call it good, even if it is.