There’s also a chance that a third party, aware of our movements, has approached us—just like the mess that happened when Robot Girl transferred into my school. It’s easy to envision a different group or organization—separate from the one my neighbor negotiated with—coming to attack us.
“If they provoke us, we’re free to fight back. But I don’t want to kill their Disciple if we can avoid it, so aim for the angel as much as you can. Our first priority is learning who they are.”
“Gotcha!”
We hurry toward our destination, then head into a tiny alley between the studio building and the one beside it. We hide in the shadows, watching for movement.
“If they really are with the company, they should approach the studio building. That’s our chance. I believe in you, Abaddon. I know you can pull this off.”
“You got it. I agree wholeheartedly!”
After our little strategy meeting, we focus on the area around us for a while. Eventually, two people appear in front of the building. I can see them across the road, hiding between two buildings in a space so narrow, it can hardly be called a street. One of them has wings protruding from her back; even from a distance, I can tell she’s an angel.
In fact, I recognize both her and the Disciple.
“Well, hey, now. They look familiar, don’t they?”
“You noticed, too?”
I believe the Disciple’s name is Himegami, and his angel is called Eriel. They picked a fight with my neighbor and the others once and were beaten to a pulp. Ever since, we’ve been using this pathetic pair as spies for our side. Back when the big sea monster appeared in the Pacific Ocean, we even asked for their help creating an isolated space. But what are they doing in a place like this?
“Did you hear anything about this from my neighbor or the others?” I ask Abaddon. “I just want to be sure.”
“Nope, nuh-uh.”
“Then our plan doesn’t change.”
It appears they still haven’t noticed us. After taking careful stock of their surroundings, they seem to come to a decision and burst out onto the road, speeding toward the studio building. The Disciple must not be able to fly yet; the angel is carrying him in her arms like he’s a princess.
They shoot through the building’s front entrance in a matter of seconds. It’s time to make our move.
“Let’s go, Abaddon.”
“Right-o!”
We follow, rushing out of the alley—and end up face-to-face with them the moment we set foot inside.
“Wha…? Wait, uh, what the heck are you two doing here?!” exclaims the Disciple. His angel stands in front of him, ready to defend him at a moment’s notice.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I say.
“You’re not here to…finish the job, are you? Uh, just so you know, we haven’t done anything to harm you! In fact, the angel group kind of kicked us out, and we haven’t been in any death games since then, and—”
“Then let me ask you this. Are you and that angel the only ones here?”
“Uh, yeah! No one else!”
“You’ll regret lying to us.”
“I’m telling the truth! So please, stop that disturbing demon of yours!” The boy looks like he’s about to burst into tears. His gaze flicks back and forth between me and the hunk of flesh floating to my side. He’s right; the sight of that fleshy membrane, glossy with unknown fluid as it pulses irregularly, is quite menacing.
“Then what are you doing here?” I ask. “It’s a weekday. I can’t believe we’d run into each other here, of all places, unless you knew where I’d be.”
“Well, I, er…”
“Nothing good will come from keeping secrets.”
“Ngh…!”
Uh-oh, this might be a problem. It feels really good using violence to intimidate him. No wonder bullying never goes away. If I got used to it, this feeling would totally ruin me.
“What is it?” I demand again. “Confess.”
“…Fine. All right,” he says, resigned. “I have a job here today. So I took off school to come.”
“……”
What is that supposed to mean? Could this Disciple be the same as us? He did run inside the studio building as fast as his feet could carry him. I saw it.
If he planned to escape the isolated space by hiding himself at his destination and waiting it out, then his actions make sense. He could always be lying, but it would be a clumsy lie. It wouldn’t stand up to our questions.
“Doctor Nakada, Kuon J. Glen, Doradragon.” I start listing the male participants for today’s recording session listed in the email.
The Disciple looks shocked. “Hey, wait just a minute! You… No, you can’t be…”
“I apologize for being selfish,” I say, “but would you pull out of today’s session? With two Disciples from opposite factions in one place, this isolated space will never disappear.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be…Ochiba Kareki, would you?”
He must already be acquainted with the other participants, because he only needed one guess to figure out who I am.
“If you tell a single soul, we will chase you to the ends of the earth and remove you from the proxy war by force.”
“I… I won’t say a word! I’ll keep it a secret, I swear!”
I’m certain now. This Disciple is a VTuber, too. And he belongs to a famous agency, at that. The three names I listed all have hundreds of thousands of subscribers—practically gods to someone like Ochiba Kareki.
“I promise not to tell,” he continues. “So, uh… Would you maybe, um, let me have this recording day?”
“Why should I?”
“I’ve worked so hard to get here. Ever since I entered high school, I’ve been doing everything I can, and a big agency finally approached me. Now, after three years, they’ve started calling me a mainstay of their lineup. I can’t cancel at the last minute! It’ll ruin my image at the company!”
“Is your image worth your life?”
“Mgh…”
I feel guilty, of course. But this is part of the proxy war. It definitely isn’t because I’m feeling good about a bunch of people on the internet fawning over me. I’m nothing like that buggy mechanical life-form.
Yes, this is fundraising—a necessary means of securing money to help me survive the death game.
“…Okay, fine. I’ll go home,” he says. “Is that what you want?”
“I’m glad we understand each other.”
The Disciple sounds deeply disappointed. He must sincerely want to attend the recording.
His angel sees this and speaks up, sounding apologetic. “I am so sorry, Master. My weakness is to blame for all of this.”
“No, it’s not your fault, Eriel. Don’t blame yourself. The real problem is humans like me and her—smugly basking in the attention of online strangers. We’re despicable, trampling all over the efforts of others who have put in so much work.”
“Don’t lump me in with you, please,” I correct him.
“Hmm… If you ask me, there’s not much difference.”
“Whose side are you on, Abaddon?”
Well, things could be worse; at least no one’s started asking questions about who’s funding me. If a third party destroyed my relationship with Futarishizuka or my neighbor right now, we’d be in deep trouble. In particular, I’d like to avoid having to publicly disavow my connection to our current landlady. I think Abaddon considered that, too, and deliberately interrupted us with his banter.
“When I surpass you one day, I promise to do everything I can to promote you,” I tell Himegami.
“Are you saying that’s already set in stone? Sorry for being blunt, but was this all rigged in your favor from the start?”
“I will leave that to your imagination.” I can’t afford to tell anyone about the mechanical life-form’s super-science, so I decide to respond ambiguously. “In any case, I’m glad to have acquired a convenient senpai like you.”
“Please, have mercy…”
“I’m sorry, Master,” says his angel. “This frustrates me, too. I feel we must retaliate somehow.”
She’s still standing in front of her Disciple, facing us as if ready to fight. The way she uses her small frame to shield him, combined with her adorable face, make this whole scene quite heartwarming. Her hands are curled into tight fists, as if she might start punching at any moment. She’s clearly a loyal servant.