“After all, the path I’m walking...the ideal I’m pursuing...the world I see before me...no one other than I could ever understand any of it. It’s far beyond the imaginations of you petty plebeians!”
“Ugh... Gaaaaaah!”
A wail of anguish escaped my lips as an impact crashed across my entire body. It was like an invisible giant had brought its hand down on me, crushing me beneath its massive palm. I heard similarly pained grunts and screams from the others as well. This wasn’t a fractured rib’s worth of pain anymore—it felt like my whole body was broken.
It was like we’d been made to kneel before a king. Like we’d been made to supplicate ourselves before a demon lord. Like we’d been made to grovel before a god. Like the ironclad hammer of a fallen angel had been brought down upon us. We who had dared to rebel against Kiryuu Hajime had now been laid low, one and all.
“U-Ugh... H-How...?” Genre—by way of Kudou Mirei—managed to choke out from the patch of ground where she’d been driven to her knees. “I stole your power... Lucifer’s Strike was, without question, in my grasp... So how...did it return to you?”
That was the only possible conclusion: Kiryuu had regained his power. The invisible force that was currently crushing us couldn’t have been anything other than his gravity manipulation. A power that should have been pilfered had somehow returned to its owner’s hands.
“The power to steal any foe’s ability after seeing it be used, with no further conditions or restrictions...? Hmph. That was a bad call. Sure, giving the first enemy a sense of impact is important, but even in that context, Kudou Mirei was just too powerful,” Kiryuu monologued matter-of-factly. “Under ordinary conditions, she would’ve awakened to the power to copy someone else’s power, and only for a limited time. Someone stepped in to change it into an outright cheat that let her steal powers for a potentially unlimited duration, though—and that someone was me.”
“That’s...absurd,” said Genre. “Wh-Why would—”
“Isn’t it obvious? To hype up the moment,” said Kiryuu. “I’d wanted to give Andou Jurai—Guiltia Sin Jurai—a moment to shine. I’d wanted to gift him a spectacular first battle in commemoration of our momentous chance meeting. It wasn’t easy, you know? It took a lot of work to set up a legitimately mighty enemy that his power could triumph against.”
The moment I heard those words...the pieces finally clicked together. The absurdly, irrationally powerful nature of Kudou Mirei’s ability and the fact that her battle with the literary club had almost seemed tailor-made to allow Andou to contribute in the most contrived way possible all made sense. It really had been contrived, because it was all part of the story that Kiryuu Hajime was telling.
Originally, of course, Tamaki was the one who had arranged for Kudou to be made into a Player. Tamaki had decided to use her as a tool to mess with Andou—and Kiryuu, in turn, had used Tamaki’s plan to fulfill his own designs. I had some doubts about the timeline of those events—it didn’t quite feel like they all lined up perfectly—but if you took into account the fact that Kiryuu had the ability to direct the flow of the Spirit War itself, those quibbles seemed downright petty. It was abundantly clear that the spirits had the ability to meddle with humans’ memories, so convincing Kudou that her power had always allowed her to fully steal other Players’ powers would have been the simplest of tasks for them.
Kiryuu had engineered Kudou Mirei’s actions—engineered Grateful Robber’s capabilities—all for Andou’s sake. It was like how light novels would always make sure that their first volumes ended on a big, climactic moment. Even a slice-of-life light novel had to give its main character a chance to shine somehow, and modifying Kudou’s power to be ultra-broken had given Andou his. She was turned into a character against whom the literary club girls’ godlike abilities would do nothing, but who could paradoxically get trounced by a lame gimmick like Andou’s “black flame that doesn’t burn” shtick. The power to steal powers, in fact, was probably one of the only abilities that could fulfill those very strict conditions.
“It was a pretty clever way to make him look good, I gotta say...but I might’ve tuned her power to be just a little too over-the-top broken while I was at it. And so, I’ve decided to fix it,” said Kiryuu. “Kudou Mirei’s Tyrant’s El Dorado: ‘Allows the user to steal any power that they see being used—with the exception of Kiryuu Hajime’s, upon which the power will not function.’”
I had no idea what I was listening to. The extra note that Kiryuu had appended after his description of Kudou’s power was so profoundly, childishly direct, I didn’t even know what to call it. It made no sense.
All of us were as baffled as could be, but Kiryuu ignored our confusion and just kept talking. The look in his eyes was full of a calm and composed joy as he swept his gaze across us, eventually landing on Akutagawa Yanagi, who, despite being prostrate on the ground, was still desperately trying to move his fingers into position to invoke his power.
“Akutagawa Yanagi’s Dead Space: ‘Allows the user to perceive and forcibly enlarge any and all gaps—with the exception of powers invoked by Kiryuu Hajime, upon which it will have no effect.’”
Like always, Akutagawa spread his fingers apart—once, then twice, and a third time for good measure. Nothing happened. Until moments before, he’d been easily opening gaps in the invisible gravitational force Kiryuu wielded, but now, he couldn’t influence it at all.
“Natsu Aki’s Head Hunting: ‘Allows the user to determine the full capabilities of any powers held by individuals they see—with the exception of Kiryuu Hajime’s power, which it cannot see through.’ Toki Shuugo’s Zigzag Jigsaw: ‘Allows the user to leave a fragment of their knife in anything they slash—with the exception of Kiryuu Hajime, who cannot be the subject of their attacks.’ Saitou Hitomi’s Eternal Wink: ‘Allows the user to give individuals they see an Evil Eye—however, this power will be rendered unusable for thirty minutes starting from the moment of this revision.’ Yusano Genre’s Sex Eclipse, plus all affiliated personalities’ individual powers: ‘Due to a violation of the one Player, one power standard, all personalities aside from the core personality, Genre, will have their powers stripped from them.’”
Kiryuu blabbed on and on without cease, listing off our powers and appending a new restriction to each one. The way he spoke was so expository, so specific and pointed, that it felt like he was reading out the changelog for the rules of a card game that had had its power inflation problem go well past the point of reason.
“Sagami Shizumu’s Innocent Onlooker: ‘Allows the user to cause others to have visions of their future—however, use of this ability will cost the user their own vision.’”
The next thing I knew—as soon as the words left Kiryuu’s mouth—the world was cloaked in darkness. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see anything at all.
“Reverse Crux Errata.”
I could no longer see what sort of face Kiryuu was making...but it wasn’t very hard to imagine how prideful he must’ve been as he revealed yet another of his beloved power names.
“This is the one power that I never wanted to use,” said Kiryuu. “It’s too powerful, see. It makes everything way too easy to control.”
Oh. Of course.