Balga Capital City. From the elegant reading room, the man could see heavy clouds drifting in the sky outside the window. He smoothed back his golden hair and let out a rough sigh.
“Damn. Storm Hill and the Fourth Division are both useless,” he said, crushing the telegram in his hand. He turned around with a bizarre look in his eyes. His gaze fell on a boy standing there in an exquisite military uniform.
Under the glaringly bright light, the boy raised his eyes—eyes that, like his master’s, gleamed with a thirst for blood.
“In the end, they’re just lowly pawns who know nothing about the situation. Work befitting of vermin, wouldn’t you say?” the boy muttered hatefully, shaking his long blue bangs. His words seemed sincere, not sarcastic or insulting.
His master warned him against such insolence, however. At the boy’s words, the golden-haired man widened his eyes and fixed his crimson gaze on the boy, causing the young man’s expression to falter slightly.
“Yes, I can’t leave this task to dimwitted vermin. So you go,” his master commanded.
“Would that be all right?” the boy asked for confirmation, the corners of his lips lifting upward, as if he was about to bare his teeth. The golden-haired man let out an irritated snort and tossed the crumpled paper into a wastebasket.
“I don’t care. If things proceed as planned, all the better. But it’s also true we have no more time to spare. If they resist, kill them. That result would also suffice.”
Upon hearing his master’s command, the boy bowed deeply on the spot. Then a disturbing, tenacious smirk appeared on his face.
“Understood. Everything will go as you desire.” The boy accepted the order and immediately left the room. Watching his happily retreating figure, the golden-haired man muttered spitefully, “Vermin should kill vermin. That’s what their collars are for.”
✦ ✦ ✦
The city of Sherun was one of the largest transportation hubs in the empire. It was a modern city where all forms of transit converged, including trains, ships, vehicles, and airplanes.
Finished with the call he had made using one of the public phones along the street, Tsushima returned the receiver to its place. The road was neatly paved, with three lanes in each direction. Modern buildings resembling stone structures lined the sides of the straight street.
The people passing by clearly came from an array of cultural backgrounds, yet most were wearing suits and coats.
“Tsushima, what do you think of this?”
Someone had called out to him in the middle of the bustling street. He slowly took the cigarette that had been dangling from his mouth and returned it to the packet before turning around. Standing there was Holy, dressed in a school uniform–style pleated skirt and a blouse adorned with decorative accents.
“It makes me look a bit like a student. It’s cute, right? I’ve always wanted to try wearing something like this.”
Setting aside whether it looked good on her, she seemed extremely pleased.
It was definitely common for someone Holy’s age to wear a school uniform at least once. Nobles rarely admired commoners, but there had to be a few with those tastes.
Tsushima stared at her intently.
“The outfit is nice, but it makes you stand out too much. Probably because of your pointlessly good looks. What a pain. Put something over it, like a hoodie, or coat, or a cardigan, or something.”
“No way! I went to the trouble of picking something cute. And what do you mean by ‘pointlessly good looks’? Are you complimenting me or insulting me?”
“Neither. I simply said you attract attention.”
Sure enough, Holy was even more beautiful in the sunlight. She had the proportions of a model, her features were well sculpted, and her fair skin gave her blue eyes the clarity of a cloudless sky. She was the very definition of an overly conspicuous, frustrating subject to guard.
“Go to that store and buy an outer garment that can hide your figure, hair, and face. Choose something that’s as unassuming as possible.”
As he added instructions, Tsushima handed her a crumpled banknote from his pocket. Holy took it with a discontented look, but for some reason, she kept standing there with the bill in her hand.
“What’s wrong?” Tsushima asked her.
“If you’re going to make so many demands, you should just come with me. Why do I have to go by myself?”
“I’m clueless when it comes to picking clothes. You can choose what you like as long as it meets the criteria. That’s all.”
“Yeah, you definitely don’t seem to have that kind of know-how, do you, Tsushima?” Holy examined Tsushima’s attire from his head to his toes. She exhaled deeply, then dropped her shoulders, muttering “Oh well, whatever,” as she ran off to the store.
Tsushima shouted a final reminder to her retreating back.
“Hey, you can buy anything that speaks to you, but don’t forget the requirements.”
Holy turned at the sound of his voice, the hem of her skirt fluttering. “You say I can buy another set of the same thing? Yeah, I got it!”
She wasn’t a child. That retort had been her way of telling him not to check every little thing with her. Holy stuck out her tongue a little before dashing into the store.
Feeling indescribable emotions, Tsushima took out the cigarette he had pocketed earlier and put it back into his mouth. When he lit it, the drifting smoke caused several passersby to openly glare at him with disgust.
“Yo. Can’t believe we’re crossing paths in a place like this. Even the higher-ups would be shocked.”
A man with a large build and dark skin called out to Tsushima around the time his cigarette filter had started to burn. In contrast to Tsushima, the man was wearing oversize, casual clothes and was showing a white toothy smile.
“Long time no see, Joe.”
“It’s been a few years since someone’s called me by that name. I’ve more or less retired from underworld gigs.”
“Sorry for dragging you back underground.”
“Don’t say that, bro. It’s so rare for you to get in touch that my undies got soaking wet!”
The cheerfully laughing man went by the alias Joe. He was one of the agents Tsushima had worked with in the past, back when he’d still lived in Balga.
Tsushima returned a nostalgic smile at hearing Joe’s lighthearted banter after so long.
“So you said you were transporting cargo? Where is it?” Joe asked.
“Happily out shopping.”
“Shopping?” Joe followed Tsushima’s gaze toward the store. Then he shook his head in amazement. “So by ‘cargo,’ you mean that li’l lady?”
“That’s right.”
“Looks like this’ll require extra prep.”
“That’s why I asked you. As promised, I’ll pay you half up front. I can add more if you need it to lay the groundwork,” Tsushima said, flashing just a peek of an envelope stuffed with bundles of cash from inside his jacket. Joe whistled teasingly at the sight.
“Who exactly is that li’l lady if you’re able to dish out that much cash?”
“Who knows? Even if we did, it wouldn’t change what we have to do.”
“Just complete the job, huh? You’re such a straight shooter. And you’re telling me you don’t even have the slightest ulterior motive in escorting a hottie like her?”
“Don’t be stupid. Pretty or not, she’s still a kid.” Tsushima snorted, putting a new cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. As he exhaled smoke, he watched Holy put an outfit together in front of the mirror in the store.
“Aaah,” Joe said as he followed Tsushima’s gaze. “We’re old now, huh? You used to be that age back in the day.” His words carried a different, unspoken meaning.
Whenever Tsushima saw a girl that age, he couldn’t help but remember the sight of the girl who had always been beside him.
“Let’s reminisce later. It’s time for business. Now, about those mannequins we talked about on the phone—” Tsushima started to say, but Joe interrupted by sticking his index finger out in front of him.
“Of course everything’s fully ready. But more importantly, don’t be shocked when you hear this,” Joe prefaced with far too much confidence for a lead-in. Then he triumphantly started to explain the tools he was about to show.