Chapter 16

CHAPTER 2 The Warrior and the Dancer from Norse Mythology
First Friday of February In one small jeans shop in London: “No more of this, girlfriend. I’m not selling you anything.” “Wh-why not?!” cried Kaori Kanzaki, slamming her hands on the counter with a bam. “I always bring payment along with me! Even when you’re charging me an arm and a leg for vintage ones with ambiguous market value, even though I include a tip for you—and why won’t you look at me?!” “Well, just look at you, honey!!” The owner pointed sharply at Kanzaki’s thigh area. The jeans she was wearing had one leg completely cut off at the thigh, granting her an asymmetrical sort of beauty as well as an unadorned sexiness. “I work so hard, going all over the world for these vintage jeans, only to have you cut them up!! You don’t seem to understand how much that pair is worth—it was made with all sorts of special features meant for the men working the mines during the California gold rush…!!” “I understand that. That’s why I’m always sure to make the part I cut off into a purse, like this one—” “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!” roared the owner like a raging bull, running his hands through his hair. “Anyway, I’m not selling anything to you, and I’m not going to help you with your work, either! If you don’t like it, then go cry to the god of jeans and premium goods and apologize to them!!” “I…I see. I haven’t even explained the details yet… But you say you will not aid me in my work. That is a shame…” Kanzaki’s shoulders drooped. “That just means I’ll have to deal with them alone—the mysterious jeans-snipping slasher being whispered about on the streets.” “You should’ve said that sooner!” Kaori Kanzaki’s job was to take down evil sorcerers. It wasn’t the most specific job, and it seemed like an occupation best left for storybooks—but they existed, and that was that. And since the organization she belonged to was connected to their state religion, she quietly earned a stable income that was about what a civil servant could expect to make. This was how the hard-earned money of UK taxpayers paid for nebulous activities and expenses. Like out of a storybook… Kanzaki laughed at herself a little. Right now, thanks to certain circumstances, her heart was sealed shut on a deep level—although humans are creatures who cannot hold a single emotion in their heart for very long. Without twisting a person’s fundamental personality to an irreparable level, their innate senses of duty and compassion will eventually surface when they least expect it. “Come to think of it, what did happen to that Stiyl?” asked the owner. Stiyl was a colleague of Kanzaki’s. “He’s following the child,” she answered. “He’s still going on about that?” “……” “Well, not that I have any right to criticize him. We just have to pray some idiot doesn’t dash in like a hero,” said the owner before pausing and changing the topic. “Actually, Kanzaki, aren’t you cold in that getup? It’s February, and it’s freezing.” The owner was hugging himself, shivering fiercely. Februaries in London fell squarely in the wintertime. And this year, a severe cold wave had hit the entire nation—the kind where the story about the match-selling girl who died made perfect sense. It was cold enough that some ponds had frozen solid, and now anyone could walk across them. But even though Kanzaki’s thigh was completely exposed—albeit just the one—she replied, “No, not especially.” “Unbelievable…,” the shop owner muttered, his lips turning blue and his breath white, while wearing heavy gear that he could have scaled Mount Everest in. “Anyway, what’s this about a jeans-snipping slasher?” “It’s just what it sounds like. A mystery person, identity unknown, who cuts only the jeans of those they pass by. The only notable damages thus far have been jeans—no one has been injured, apparently.” “We can kill them, right?” “You decided on that faster than the speed of sound.” “Now that I think about it…the jeans-snipping slasher, eh…? Surprised you weren’t suspected.” “??? Why would anyone suspect me of this?” The owner gave a sigh at the confused, thigh-exhibitionist girl standing before him. “Never mind. Any clues where they’re hiding?” “Yes, but not much of one. The criminal’s actions have the smell of Norse mythology.” “…Any proof of that? Who investigated this?” “Theodosia.” “Her? I suppose we should take that with a grain of salt— Oh.” As the owner and Kanzaki watched, they saw an old bearded man suddenly stumble, lose all his energy, and collapse. The jeans he was wearing had been severed cleanly at both thighs; the tragic transformation made them look more like briefs than jeans. The owner unwittingly covered his face with his hands. “Damn, that’s awful… They just robbed a proud English gentleman of all his dignity. They didn’t even leave him with the energy to fix his own beard!!” “Indeed. If they were going to cut them, they could have done it with a little more class, like I do.” “I am definitely not selling you anything ever again.” Just then, Kanzaki heard a sharp noise like metal plates scraping together. Almost like scissors. “?!” It almost got her. Kanzaki whipped around, swinging the long, sheathed katana she carried at nearly the same moment an unknown attacker closed in on her with a blade. Two silhouettes crossed. A silly ba-bam went off, but for the moment, Kanzaki’s jeans hadn’t turned into denim briefs. “Who are you?!” Kanzaki shouted, glaring harshly at her opponent. The rumored surprise-tailor turned out to be a woman about the same age as Kanzaki. She was slender and well proportioned, with hair that was closer to silver than blond. Her clothing consisted of several pieces of steel positioned in a particular way to form a unique set of breastplate and waist armor; her hands were in long gloves that reached above the elbow; and her legs sported long boots above tights that were, for some reason, white and black in a cow pattern, and wait a minute. Kanzaki’s eyes shrank to pinpoints. The shop owner’s eyes goggled. Trembling, he said: “That’s gotta be…the legendary bikini armor.” Flustered at the incredible sight before her eyes, Kanzaki said, “Umm, well, where do I even start with this…?!! I mean, the top part—there’s barely anything there. So how about I start with that?!” The mysterious exhibitionist stuck out her ridiculously ample chest. “Your own shirt is quite the same, I’d say. Even I find myself in awe and admiration of its sexiness.” “…!!” “Hang on a sec there, Kanzaki!! It’s too soon to draw your blade!! And if you ask me, you are way too erotic, from an objective point of view!!”