As he used his empty hand to flick the switch at his neck, the cheaply colored black tea collided with his body—and all of it bounced right back off. There wasn’t a single millimeter of skin that had been burned. And Kuroyoru’s follow-up attack met the same fate. Reflection. Kuroyoru flew out of her seat, moving back, twisting as hard as she could to just barely avoid her own projectile. The cup in her hand had been split in half. Tossing the handle onto the road, she grasped her inflatable dolphin. As the cup, the table, and the seat across from her all fell apart, Accelerator alone continued to sit, relaxed. “…The way you talk— No, your calculation patterns…” “My, did you figure it out? Guess it wasn’t that hard. After all, you’ve got a portion of these patterns implanted in your brain to make you stronger.” “Project Dark May, eh?” Accelerator snorted. That was one of the inhumane projects going on behind the scenes in Academy City. By dissecting the city’s strongest Level Fives’ thought patterns and forcefully embedding part of them into others, they’d hoped to dramatically boost a person’s abilities in exchange for destabilizing their personality. “You had a little part of it shoved into your brain. But I’m Number One—I’m where it came from. Are you really so stupid that you need to try to fight me to realize which of us is stronger?” “Keep talking, kid.” “This is a trigger.” Accelerator tapped the armrest of his chair. “If I get up, you’re dead. Or maybe you want to try forcing me to get up.” “I may not have much chance in a straight fight. That’s why we were leaving you for later,” said Kuroyoru, adding, “However…our win condition isn’t to take you on fair and square.” “……” “Your power—it’s great for destroying things. Not so great for protecting things, though, is it? Well, I’m the same way!!” shouted Kuroyoru, picking her dolphin up under her arm and swiping her empty hand horizontally. Straight toward the onlookers who had suddenly begun to gather. Waving her palm, which held immense destructive power, at unarmed civilians. In the same moment, Accelerator leaped out of his chair. Her attack resembled the wind. He jumped between Kuroyoru and the onlookers, immediately scattering the projectiles—which were like spears or arrows. “That was the trigger.” His words were shocking, like a bullet. “And you pulled it. You chose this fate.” Umidori Kuroyoru grinned. Around her, the fragments of the table and road she’d blasted still hovered slightly as they fell. Pointing to the photograph, also cut in half, she made a proposition. “There she is.” “There who is?” “Fremea Seivelun.” The brow of Academy City’s most powerful monster twitched. “Time to play a little game, Number One.” “……” “The kid’s nearby. Here’s the game. We see if I can cut her head off, just like the picture.” And then… 9 Shiage Hamazura dashed out of the private-salon building. Inside, all hell had broken loose—a swarm of Edge Bees that would drive themselves through windows and doors if he ever gave them the chance. But he’d managed to slip away from it all. As long as he could keep himself from flinching at the chain saws around the machines’ outer ring, he had several ways to deal with them. He could throw a spray can into their propellers, slam a fire extinguisher into their camera lenses, or hurl a Molotov cocktail at their batteries. The Edge Bees could accelerate objects thrown at them using centrifugal force and hurl them back with incredible force. But Hamazura could deal with them if he threw something at an extreme angle or used something they couldn’t catch without breaking. He was lucky that their self-destruct feature was only connected to them losing all functionality. If they had been able to trigger it at will based on the situation, he wouldn’t have even been able to get close to them. Where’s Fremea?! Is she outside already? Or is she still in there?! Pushing his way through the onlookers gathering to watch the excitement, Hamazura turned every which way for the girl. But as he did, he realized that something felt off. Out of place. Something was wrong. Something didn’t make sense. Luck had clearly been the factor that had gotten him out of the building, which was swarming with Edge Bees. Naturally, he’d been hoping for that very outcome. That was why he’d been fighting so desperately. But… It’s going too well…, he thought, being honest with himself. No matter how varied the experience he had and how much of it he had, Hamazura was still just a random street punk at heart. He couldn’t use any abilities to get through situations like these. Those lethal weapons—a swarm of machines designed for killing that had been released to do just that—would never have let him get away like this. If he had only confronted one or two of those machines, then sure, he could have chalked it up to a miracle. But he’d run into over ten of the things. And far more than that were all over the building. How had he survived? Pure coincidence? He felt like someone else had planned for him to escape. “Fremea!! Where are you?!” But he didn’t have the time to dwell on this. Hamazura had only managed to get away from the swarm of Edge Bees. He hadn’t wiped them out. And they were nothing more than unmanned drones. If his intuition was right, whoever was controlling them—his real enemy—would be far more difficult to deal with than the esper girl and the powered suit from before. Then it happened: While looking around, he heard a familiar voice. “…Over here, Hamazura… Here…!!” “Fremea!!” Hamazura whipped around to look, but there were too many rubberneckers. Plus, Fremea was fairly short. She could be completely buried. He couldn’t find her. He had no way of reaching her. Impatience swelled within him as the huge throng of people undermined his efforts to locate her. And… …while he looked around, confused, the next disaster struck. Ba-bammm!! The massive shadow of a powered suit appeared, scattering the cars parked on the road. The object itself was utterly incongruous with the cityscape. He had nothing to base this on, but Hamazura thought it smelled the same as the spider mech that had gone on a rampage in the underground mall. Two arms. Two legs. While its design was more docile compared with the eight-legged mech equipped with the smoothbore cannon, this one was significantly larger. It definitely didn’t seem like the pilot’s arms and legs would be able to reach those limbs. There was probably a cockpit in the torso. A whole bunch of thin beams protruded from its back, with several familiar Edge Bees skewered on them. The onlookers stared slack-jawed at the mech. Despite understanding that Academy City had produced weapons of that kind, it was an uncommon sight for residents of the city. The powered suit pilot, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate. It didn’t matter who was watching. The giant mech charged onward, heedless of the pedestrians between it and its target. In other words, toward Fremea Seivelun—to crush her. “???!!!” Countless screams ripped through the air. Ignoring the people falling over one another trying to get out of the way, the powered suit plunged straight ahead on its path. Hamazura was paralyzed, partly because he didn’t know exactly where Fremea was. But more than that, it was the cold, negative emotions of the powered suit pilot—overwhelming, and completely different from the Edge Bees—that were stopping him. It was as though they had pierced his skin and pinned him in place. He could feel the pilot’s raw intent to kill him. That was something a mere machine couldn’t produce. As Hamazura stood there, frozen on the spot, the powered suit flipped over a parked car. It spun three times in midair, then plummeted toward the ground. He stared at it in shock. There she was. Fremea Seivelun. She must have been knocked over by the other onlookers during their frantic escape. She was lying face down on the road. A stroller sat nearby, abandoned. Had the parents panicked and run away, or had the stream of onlookers cut them off from it? A child was still in there, though—one so young that Hamazura couldn’t tell their gender or age. Finally, he tore himself from his terrified paralysis, launching into a desperate sprint toward Fremea. But he was too late. He screamed for her to run. Fremea looked between the car hurtling at her and the stroller. That hesitation reduced her already slim chances of survival to zero. The car fell. The baby in the stroller must have had no idea what was happening. The car continued to spin around, and as its side mirrors deflected the sunlight irregularly, the baby reached its little hands out for it. A moment later, there was a massive crunch. Whoooomp!! That was the sound of Accelerator delivering a flying kick that could manipulate any vector—momentum, heat, electric charge—and knocking the car clear away. Though Accelerator had rushed in at an incredible speed, he stopped dead in the air for a moment. His kinetic energy, however, blasted away the car, sending it careening off in a direction devoid of onlookers. He’d diverted its momentum like a billiard ball. Accelerator floated down near Fremea, seeming almost weightless. Perhaps finally realizing the danger from that noise, the baby in the stroller began to bawl. He didn’t turn back to look at it, though. The powered suit. Umidori Kuroyoru. As he confirmed the location of the two direct threats, Accelerator muttered something under his breath—as if to praise Fremea for hesitating to run away at the very end. …This isn’t supposed to be my job, he said to himself. Where’s that shitty Level Zero when you need him? And then to both himself and the girl, the monster said this: “Stupid kid. You’re not cut out to be a hero.” In that moment, Shiage Hamazura was dumbstruck. Why had Academy City’s strongest Level Five shown up here? Level Zeroes like Hamazura and Fremea lived in almost completely different worlds than the Level Fives, who reigned as the supreme beneficiaries of ability development. It was absolute nonsense to Hamazura; no Level Five would ever want to help a Level Zero unless the situation really demanded it. He was thankful for the rescue, of course. His problem was well beyond anything a bunch of Level Zeroes could resolve by putting their heads together. He’d met Accelerator before, in some of the most intensely combat-plagued regions of World War III—in Russia and in the Elizalina Alliance of Independent Nations. If he could borrow someone with the power to singlehandedly overwhelm not only the Russian military but even the cutting-edge weaponry the city had fielded, he could rest easy. However… …Hamazura also couldn’t help but feel a creeping suspicion—just like he had when reflecting on how “lucky” he’d been to evade the Edge Bee swarm. …Can I really use him? Though Accelerator had once protected Takitsubo from terrorists, Hamazura didn’t have a great impression of him, and for good reason, too. But right now, he didn’t have the luxury of choice. …I’ll take anything as long as it gets us out of this crisis. That bastard may have killed Komaba, but that means he’s got a reason to fight for Fremea, too!! In that moment, the powered suit heard the joyous tones of its colleague over the radio. “It’s here, it’s here, it’s heeeere!! Silvercross!! We have contact. It’s just one more push. Secure the link here and now!!” “He may know what we’re up to.” “Doesn’t matter. That’s why we’ve kept Fremea Seivelun on the brink of death! There’s no changing the flow anymore. Not at this point. Even if they try to resist it!! You know what to use—it’ll let you link them up for sure. It’s checkmate, Silvercross!!” He clicked his tongue in annoyance, and the sound echoed in his powered suit. He’d always been someone who could pick the right suit for the time and place. “Shit. I already told you, the Bee Launcher isn’t made for combat!!” Despite his complaint, he moved the powered suit forward, scattering the guardrails and fire hydrants in its way like a heavy construction vehicle. At that same moment, Kuroyoru was observing Silvercross’s giant powered suit charge ahead from a short distance away. Though the powered suit had been made to order, it wouldn’t be able to eliminate Academy City’s Number One. …But that’s no problem, she thought. Grrreeeeeeshhhhhh!! burst the noise of crushing metal. The powered suit reached out to grab Fremea from the ground using steel fingers sturdier than the scoop on an excavator, but it quickly crumpled into itself when Accelerator hit it with his ability. The impact encroached like roots, smashing the broken arm even more, sending cracks through the outer shell, and putting a huge load on many of the suit’s vital movement mechanisms. Normally, that would have ended things. But not so in this case. …Raw force won’t be the deciding factor here!! Because Silvercross Alpha was wearing a very thick powered suit. Which meant… Pkkk-shhhh!! All of a sudden, the front side of the currently collapsing powered suit opened up. To expel its contents—Silvercross. And inside was something else inhuman: a tiny powered suit with curved armor reminiscent of an armadillo. It must have been stabilizing itself using some sort of device or sensors—it shot out of the larger model and into the air at a rapid spin. Then it passed right over Fremea, who was still lying prone on the ground. No, that wasn’t it. The armadillo had grabbed the back of her neck. Through the radio, Kuroyoru yelled, “Silvercross!! Get her out of here! Then it’ll be our win!!” Accelerator, who thought the pair would stop at mere destruction, hesitated for a fraction of a second over how to respond. Their next move came immediately. The nearby crowd parted in a flurry of screams. The high-mobility powered suit dashed through the opening. Equipped with a giant propeller on the back, the suit had four legs that could reach speeds of eight hundred kph by sliding across the ground. The tips of its legs could also secrete a type of fluid called Slipoil to let it slide, but the stuff was highly volatile, so it wouldn’t leave a trace. Silvercross’s personal model could even run on autopilot, albeit with simplified movements. The thick hatch on the front of the suit opened up. Silvercross, with Fremea in his arms, did a half flip through the air again and landed perfectly inside the four-legged mech. The hatch then closed back up like the door to a vault. He’d changed machines, keeping true to his philosophy of picking his suit based on the time and place. In other words… …he’d examined the situation and chosen the model that would get him out of there the fastest. Vroooom!! The mech’s rear propellers whirred even faster, creating a gust of wind. Before Accelerator could grab hold of its armor, the powered suit instantly sped off. He curled his fingers around empty air. Before he knew it, they were already shooting through the streets like a cannonball. Kuroyoru Umidori concealed herself within the crowds, then spoke through her radio to him. “That’s it. We’ve won.” The only sound left was the wails of the abandoned baby. Though a noise like that would stimulate anyone’s primal instincts, it would never resound in the darkness. 10 Time was up. Having watched the entire sequence of events, Shiage Hamazura grabbed a bent metal pipe for self-defense—which had probably fallen out of the powered suit that was destroyed—and ran toward Accelerator. He’d use every bit of combat power at his disposal. Though he’d refused to get Takitsubo, Mugino, or Kinuhata involved, he didn’t feel the same sense of responsibility when it came to the city’s Number One. Now that Fremea Seivelun had been kidnapped, it was a race against time. And Accelerator had killed Komaba, who’d wanted to protect the girl. Which meant Accelerator did have a reason to rescue her. After disappearing into the crowd on the street, Umidori Kuroyoru chuckled to herself. Fremea Seivelun is worthless on her own, she thought. She’s just a Level Zero. And ordinarily, she never would have gotten mixed up with this city’s darkness. “Hey! Number One!!” shouted Hamazura, but Accelerator didn’t even turn around. Hamazura didn’t know if his bent pipe would be of any use against someone even more overpowered than Mugino, but he readied it regardless. “There’s no time. Help me out. It’ll be more efficient to go after Fremea together. If even a tiny part of you wants to save her, then help me out!! And if you don’t know who she is, I’ll tell you right now. Once you’re up to speed, you’ll realize you’re part of this. She’s…” “……” Accelerator swept his hand. As soon as it touched Hamazura’s pipe, the object inverted. Grrrkeeee!! came the metal screech. The pipe was instantly ripped from his hand, and Hamazura slammed into the ground. Accelerator flicked a switch on his choker, then approached him. To ensure Hamazura was neutralized. To prevent him from fighting anymore by dislocating both of his arms at least. There was no rule saying the enemy of your enemy had to be your friend. To begin with, it took far less motivation and perseverance to save someone on a whim than it did to come along for the whole ride. Her white coat swaying from side to side as it hung from her head, Kuroyoru mentally reviewed the progress of the mission in her head again. …What makes Fremea valuable are the people she’s related to. She has a connection to Accelerator, who killed Ritoku Komaba—and through Frenda, she also has a connection to Hamazura and Item, most importantly Mugino. …That was…pretty naive, I guess… Still pinned to the ground, Hamazura gritted his teeth. Accelerator reached for his neck. If the esper kept going and squeezed his carotid artery, Hamazura would black out instantly. He couldn’t imagine how much worse the situation would get in the meantime—how much time he’d waste—now that Fremea had already been carried away. Hamazura needed to turn this around at any cost. …And it doesn’t matter how. I just need something to get Accelerator away from me…!! Hamazura moved his right hand and felt something hard. It had run into something lying on the ground. A gun. One of the Anti-Skill officers had probably dropped it in the chaos. But that wouldn’t be enough. This monster could wreck huge powered suits with one hand. He doubted shooting a 9mm bullet at him would do much of anything. Kuroyoru took out her phone and went over the complicated exchange her higher-ups were having. Yes. Shiage Hamazura and Accelerator. The most crucial part of this plan was creating a major connection—a link—between them. But then it happened. Hamazura sensed something amiss in Accelerator’s eye. The esper wasn’t looking down at him. While Hamazura was pretty insignificant, Accelerator would have still needed to keep his eyes on Hamazura while trying to finish him off. Remaining on the ground, Hamazura followed Accelerator’s gaze. Someone was over there in the throng of people. A small girl. Unbeknownst to him, she went by Last Order. …Can I…use this…? He felt the weight of the gun in his hand again. Yes, Number One was a monster. But the ability to defend oneself was entirely separate from the ability to defend others. If that girl was someone Accelerator knew, then Hamazura could use her to threaten him. Even through the crowds of onlookers, Hamazura had a clear shot at her. She was about twelve meters away—close enough that he could count on hitting her as long as he took his time to aim. He could use that to negotiate with the monster. …What’s the move here? He’d never be able to stand up to a titan like Accelerator unless he got creative. And every second counted if he wanted to rescue Fremea. …What’s the move…? His right hand twitched. But before he could actually do anything, Accelerator countered. Whump!! A dull pain shot from his right wrist to his elbow. Accelerator had used his full weight to pin Hamazura’s arm to the ground. The higher-ups now viewed the situation as a threat—just as much of a threat as they’d planned. Kuroyoru was satisfied with that. Of course they do. At the end of World War III, Hamazura and Accelerator each carried out negotiations with the city’s elite. That’s what made the higher-ups hesitant, despite how dangerous those two are. Despite how much of an eyesore they are. Those negotiations have blocked the elite from trying anything. “Gah…ah…?!” After making sure Hamazura had let go of the gun, Accelerator reached his other hand up to the electrode switch. “…The instant I flip this, all the blood in your body will start flowing backward. You’ll be dead,” he stated in a cold voice. “But first, answer me this.” “Answer what?” “Why did you hesitate? You had plenty of time to pull the trigger…leaving aside whether or not it would have hit her anyway.” If Hamazura had followed through, Accelerator would have brutally murdered him in retribution, of course. And it wouldn’t have been a matter of whether or not he managed to land the shot—he’d have been dead as soon as his trigger finger moved by even a hairbreadth. Hamazura didn’t bother looking for the gun, which he knew was out of his reach. Instead, he stared Accelerator in the eye. “…No reason.” “What?” “You’re the one I want, not her. She’s a bystander. No reason to get her involved.” “What do I have to do with this?” “Ritoku Komaba.” Accelerator’s brow twitched a little. Hamazura ignored this and continued, “You killed him. But there was something he wanted to protect, right until the end—that girl, Fremea.” He paused. “You should know why he was fighting against the darkness in the city. It’s the same reason he fought you: to protect Level Zeroes who just want to live their lives. But just knowing isn’t enough. If you have even a drop of sympathy for what he was trying to do, then you have to save Fremea.” A message showed up on Kuroyoru’s cell phone. And she expected Silvercross’s powered suit had just received the same one. That gives us the chance to shake the balance up. Accelerator clicked his tongue. Then he got off Hamazura and stood up, before eventually muttering something. Not something directed at anyone in the past. But something directed at those scheming in the present. “…Do it for Komaba? Not for myself? Shit. So that’s their game.” Kuroyoru scanned the message. It contained the decision of Academy City leadership. Shiage Hamazura and Accelerator were manageable while separated. The city could still negotiate with them. That’s why the elite figured it would be okay to let them loose, even for just a little while. But if the rebels conspired together? If they teamed up to become one massive problem for the city? Then negotiation would be well off the table. The higher-ups would need to crush the both of them to sleep well at night, no matter the risks. And so their objective escalated from the nonlethal “observation” to the very lethal “eliminate.” “Wha…what…?” Hamazura asked dubiously. Accelerator didn’t give him a real answer. The fact was that things were now in motion, and they couldn’t be stopped. For the moment, they were dancing to someone else’s tune—to the whims of Umidori Kuroyoru and the rest of the Freshmen. Permission to attack. While the process left something to be desired, the elite now recognized how serious a threat they posed to the city. Accelerator’s and Shiage Hamazura’s respective factions are to be dismantled ASAP, including their personnel, funds, and assets. Use lethal force if necessary. …It was a simple message—exactly what Kuroyoru had hoped to extract from the most powerful individuals in the city. Hamazura is an idiot, but Accelerator must have figured it out, right? I bet he did! But you can’t stop him now, dumbasses!! Because he knows now. He can tell that Fremea’s gonna be killed at this rate, and he won’t care if he walks into a trap!! Now all you can do is get directly involved. That’s why you really piss me off, you sappy Alumni!! “Heh-heh. Ahhh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!” Kuroyoru didn’t care that she was in a crowd. She burst out laughing anyway. The people around her all turned to look at her. She ignored them. “This is my introduction to you as representative of the Freshmen,” she said under her breath. “I really hope you have fun, Alumni.” In that case. Accelerator sent a text to Misaka Worst informing her that he’d figured out what the enemy was after. And that since it was possible that they would target the others, like Yomikawa and Yoshikawa, she was to take Last Order back to their apartment, then protect all those good people no matter what. Once he saw the message had sent, he muttered something: “…All right. You’re on. And storming the front gate was always how that kid did things, wasn’t it?” 11 Carjacking again. How many times did this make it? Hamazura had left the private-salon building; now he was in the parking garage, where he’d unlocked a two-door sports car parked there. It had been tricky getting the engine to start, but he was experienced in this sort of thing—in the types of skills that couldn’t be used in upstanding society. “Get in!!” Hamazura shouted from behind the wheel. Accelerator climbed into the passenger’s seat in annoyance. Hamazura quickly pulled out of the parking spot. “…I never would have guessed that they weren’t targetting Fremea,” said Hamazura, mulling over the revelation Number One had told him on their way to steal a car. “Seriously, trying to link the two of us up to cross a threshold and create a significant threat to the city…?” “They were aiming to rile the city up real good,” spat Accelerator. “I doubt the bigwigs were actively pursuing this outcome. I mean, they all had a chance to get out of the darkness—but they were so thirsty for battle that they dove right back in.” “It’s insane… How can they want to be in a place like that?” “The issue here isn’t that they’re wack jobs. It’s that their definition of dangerous elements now probably includes a whole bunch of people not related to us. If the higher-ups were to approve a joining of those connections, they might even attack people I know back at the apartment. And the people you know, obviously.” “…Takitsubo, Mugino, Kinuhata. You’re saying they could be dragged back into this?” “Our only choice is all-out war now. Compromise is off the table. If we don’t know how far this could spread, then we’d better give them a thorough beating before anyone else is hurt.” Hamazura took out his phone as he continued going at full speed down the twisted, sloping road. If their assumptions were correct, then Hanzou and Kuruwa would both be safe. Or Kuruwa—whom they’d lost contact with before the Edge Bees attacked—would be, at least. There was no confirmed link between her and Hamazura, so they didn’t have an excuse to kill her. No—they were going straight for Hamazura and Accelerator. Their enemies. The Freshmen. “Hanzou, where the hell are you right now?!” Hamazura shouted as soon as the call went through, all the while bursting out of the parking garage. “I managed to find Kuruwa. Which is weird? She wasn’t captured or attacked or anything. The phone company cut off her service, that’s all. Hamazura, is this—?” “They took Fremea,” he interrupted, ignoring Hanzou’s question since he knew that time was of the essence. He started driving in the direction the four-legged powered suit had disappeared, but there was nothing to let him know he was on the right track. “I think they went east from the District 3 salon! But I don’t know their exact destination. Where are you? Can you get around them from there?!” “What am I looking for?” “That same asshole in a powered suit. His current one has four legs and a huge propeller on the back. But I doubt it’ll be able to get into a hideout like that. They’ll load it into a truck or bus or something.” “So a real big vehicle, not a standard one… In that case, I might still be able to track them down.” “What?” “I’m saying there’s a way.” The moment he heard about Fremea being captured, Hanzou let out a heavy sigh. Now he knew why Kuruwa’s cell phone service had gotten suspended so suddenly. Meanwhile, Kuruwa—the other idiot taken advantage of by the enemy—was covering her face with hands, whimpering. “…I… I can’t believe I was tricked into revealing a little girl’s location… I’m still a descendant of the shinobi who survived into the modern day, you know…” “This world is full of people lying to one another about everything. Even actual ninjas were tricked all the time.” “They were not!! Ninjas were all brilliant at, you know, genius-brain moves! They could pull the wool over anyone—even ronin, or yojimbo, or the most well-defended evil ministers! They were an elite force composed of a select few, and it’s really important they come across that way!!” “Ninja wasn’t even an actual occupation by the time the evil ministers in the Edo period came around,” said Hanzou offhandedly, reaching behind his back. From the inside of his jacket, he brought out a thick sheet of paper, about thirty centimeters to a side. It had a waterproof coating, like the spoons that came with hundred-yen yogurt cups, and it was marked with dotted lines for folding. Crisp noises filled the air as he reshaped it into a complicated paper plane. Then he took several motors, each the size of his pinky nail, and attached them to specific points on the plane before adding small flaps and a rudder. Finally, he used double-sided tape to attach a camera and a transmitter to the bottom surface, and his creation was complete. It was an MAV—a micro air vehicle. “When you can pick up stuff like this in discount shops, it’s no wonder ninjas went out of style,” he muttered to himself in a deprecating way before launching the device into the air using only the strength of his right arm. The remote-control ninja hero took to the skies to rescue Fremea. “Hamazura, I just sent up a camera I can control wirelessly. I’ll send the live feed to your phone. If the powered suit needs to be loaded onto a big vehicle, they’ll stand out, especially if we spot it from above.” “One of your toy planes?” Hamazura, still behind the wheel, set his phone to speaker mode and tossed it to Accelerator in the passenger’s seat. He was still putting the pedal to the metal—he needed both hands on the wheel for this. “How fast is it?” he asked. “A hundred fifty kph. If they’re tuned like an F1 car, they’ll outrun it, but we don’t need to follow the roads. Doesn’t matter where they are—we can take the shortest path to ’em.” “Found it…,” said Accelerator, staring at the phone screen in his lap. “Five kilometers in front of us. The suit’s right alongside a big dump truck. The truck’s empty, by the way. The iron ore in the back is fake; it’s probably got a big repair station inside. There’s a tunnel up ahead. I think the truck’s designed to pick up the suit, even at the speed their going.” A somewhat dubious silence followed as Hanzou heard the sudden interruption, but he quickly continued. He knew now wasn’t the time. “Not good. MAVs watch from the air. A toy’s weak radio waves won’t reach that far—I won’t be able to keep control of it. If you’re going in, do it fast. Otherwise, we’ll lose the target for good.” Hamazura fired a glance at Accelerator. “…I know I’m the one who roped you into this, but what about that kid?” “Which kid are we talking about? Children are the only people who associate with me these days. I lose track.” “Uhhh…” Hamazura recalled the features of the girl who’d been on the scene earlier. “About ten, short brown hair, seemed happy-go-lucky or just kinda dumb, to be hones— Grwbfffhhh?!” He groaned as Accelerator grabbed his nose and gave it a light twist. “…She’ll be fine. I brought someone along—she’ll handle things there.” “A…are you her dad or something…? You do realize I’m driving right now, right?” Accelerator clicked his tongue and removed his fingers. “A tunnel, eh…” “You’re number one in the city. Can’t you just snap your fingers and fix all this?” “……” Accelerator hesitated to reveal his secrets, but the delinquent leader Komaba had fought against him knowing his weakness. Deciding it was already public information anyway, he lightly rubbed his electrode choker. “If I felt like it, I could play tag with a jet. But radio waves can make it hard to control my abilities. A tunnel isn’t the best battlefield. And the more of my power I use, the bigger things backfire if it goes wrong.” …I got a glimpse of his powers in Russia, thought Hamazura, but how far can he actually take them? Accelerator was clearly good enough to kick even Shizuri Mugino down to number four. Whatever his abilities were, they had to be insane. But that was beside the point. “Then you’re saying we can’t use your power?” “…No. Just that the conditions here are terrible.” “Same difference.” Tires almost spinning out, Hamazura merged onto a wide bypass. “Charging in with this two-door is still our only option!” Rubber squealed on the road as the sports car accelerated again. He weaved between all the family vehicles languidly obeying the speed limit, plunging farther and farther ahead until they spotted their objective: a big dump truck, and the four-legged powered suit. “We’re going in,” said Accelerator as the targets slipped inside the cave of reinforced concrete. Leaving a few seconds, Hamazura charged straight in after them. Their vision filled with orange lights. Then Accelerator gave a weary sort of shudder. He seemed to be trying to resist something, but as Hamazura started to look over, he held out a hand to stop him. “…It may be empty inside, but that thing is still over ten times our weight.” “Yeah, and we’d go flying if we tried to ram it,” Hamazura agreed. “Do you know how to attack it?” “Not something I like to brag about, but yeah, I do.” Ka-clunk. The bed of the dump truck opened up. Not the iron ore it was supposedly carrying, or the platform that seemed to be supporting that load—no, this turned all that on its head. A crack appeared in an unnatural place in the vehicle, and then the whole thing just opened up. It was probably taken inspiration from trick art or something. The truck and the powered suit matched each other’s exact speed, and the loading process began. As one of the mech’s four legs connected to the truck’s interior, Hamazura pulled the sports car way ahead to make his attack. Accelerator was right—with the truck weighing ten times the flimsy two-door, there wasn’t much point driving straight into it. The car would literally bounce off the truck, and that would be that. However… …no matter how big it was, the dump truck was still connected to the ground in four places. They still derived power from their spinning wheels. And more importantly, they were made to move forward. Naturally, force applied from different directions would yield different results. Even now, for example, the truck was a steel weapon going almost two hundred kph, but the four-legged powered suit, going the same speed, had gently gotten its leg on board just fine. This, then, was the question. What would happen if Hamazura brought the car right up to the corner of the truck’s rear bumper and rammed it? Greee-greeeshhh-greshhhhhhh-gkeeeeeeee!! The tires screamed as the dump truck, as stable as a roller coaster car held up by rails, suddenly swerved way outside its lane. Hamazura hadn’t just rammed the car into the truck with all the horsepower he could muster. In fact, he’d matched the speed of the truck as best he could, then gently brought the metal chassis against it before finally hitting the gas and pushing it. This was a technique Anti-Skill used to force runaway vehicles to a stop. The reason Hamazura was familiar with it was simple: “They did it to me about a million times! Especially that one officer with the huge boobs and the tracksuit!!” Hamazura didn’t need an extreme amount of force to pull off this manuever, since trucks had a ton of kinetic energy to begin with. The driver would lose control of their vehicle if the heading was forcibly altered even slightly. If they had been somewhere else, this maneuver could have caused collateral damage. But inside this tunnel, the only things on either side of the truck were thick concrete walls. Sparks flew. The truck scraped against the wall as it swerved out of control. That jostled the four-legged powered suit quite a bit, too, so it had no choice but to get back on the road. “Now!!” exclaimed Hamazura. The huge powered suit was moving alongside them, right outside the window—it was close enough to touch. “The glove compartment, Number One!! Find something to write with—like with a map or something! A marker! Break it and hit the thing with the ink!! If we can gunk up its lenses, it won’t be able to keep going!!” “…Doesn’t seem like he’s giving us the chance,” Accelerator pointed out. Hamazura looked ahead again; he couldn’t believe what his eyes. The truck, which had been scraping against the wall, was attempting to counterattack by slamming its wheels against them. A wall of steel approached them. Prepared for the car to lose its balance, Hamazura slammed on the brakes. The gigantic mass of the dump truck passed in front of them, striking the front bumper of their car and sending them flying. Fortunately, that didn’t total the car itself. They’d just barely survived. However… …the car wasn’t the only thing that had lost its balance. Jostled by its own weight, the dump truck actually spun out of control this time. It swerved at an angle across the straight tunnel. Hamazura didn’t even need to look at the driver to know that they were trying to use S-shaped movements to frantically straighten the vehicle’s course. Unfortunately, its front wheels were already in the air. Finally, the truck yielded to its weight completely and fell over on its side. It was like a wall had come down in the middle of the tunnel. Hamazura may have hit the brakes, but between a car that was still upright and a dump truck whose side was scraping the ground, it was pretty clear who would decelerate faster. They were going to collide. Hamazura quickly cut the wheel, hoping for a softer collision along the car’s side. Naturally, that thrust the passenger’s side right at the truck. Accelerator put a hand to the switch on his electrode, attempting to push the vectors in Hamazura’s direction, despite knowing his powers could go out of control. “Shit!!” he cursed. “You trying to flatten me, too, shithead?!” “No, I wouldn’t… This’ll delay the powered suit—” Hamazura sucked in his breath. There was a gap between the overturned truck and the ceiling. A regular car would never be able to pass through it. But right before his eyes, the powered suit jumped over it like a hurdle. “No…way…,” murmured Hamazura. A moment later, the car crashed into the dump truck. While his braking had brought their speed a little more in-line with the other vehicle’s, Hamazura hadn’t been able to completely cancel out the impact. Despite the car colliding with the truck from the side, the steering wheel exploded into a cloud of airbags. This completely blocked his vision and prevented him from using his hands. The two vehicles continued to slide forward until they emerged from the tunnel. After several dozen more meters, they finally came to a halt. Hamazura, punching the automatically deflating airbags so they’d get out of his way sooner, shouted at Accelerator, “After them, Number One!!” “……” “We’re out of the tunnel. There isn’t any interference now. You’re up!!” The door to the passenger’s seat was pressed against the side door, unable to be opened. But the monster didn’t even give that a second thought. He touched the switch on his neck. Ba-gaaaammm!! Academy City’s number one esper tore off the roof of the vehicle chasing after the powered suit. 12 “Yes. Uh-huh. Yes, that’s right. Apparently, there was an accident near the tunnel exit. Huh? Oh, yes, it’s fine. No problems on our end here. We’re just stuck in the tunnel, since we can’t go back, either.” A mechanic in his forties or fifties spoke into a phone, frowning at the orange glow and the smell of exhaust as he leaned back against the side of a semitrailer. The name MICHIHIKO JOUSAWA was embroidered in small letters on his chest pocket. The truck behind him didn’t have a big container on the trailer. Instead, it carried a box-shaped steel frame; you could see the freight from the outside. “It’ll take a while to bring the cargo in. Then again, it’s a three-lane road. People have been driving between everything on motorcycles. And if I could actually get permission to use the cargo, I could… No? I figured not. Never mind.” While the delay meant he would certainly be late, Jousawa wasn’t too mad about it. In fact, he almost welcomed it. After hanging up the phone, he grabbed a radio hanging from his belt. The person driving the semi was on the other end. “Got the okay for arrival. They told me we’d have to take a different transport route, though.” “Why do they even care?” scoffed the driver over the radio. “They’ll never use it again. Or even once, actually. They’ll seal the thing up and throw it in a warehouse forever. Maybe someone’ll drag it out for some offshoot research and take it apart to see how it works, then put it back in. Like some kind of insect specimen. I don’t see a reason we need to rush this—we could be six months late, and they wouldn’t care.” As he listened, Jousawa glanced over at the bed of the truck. At what was on it: a chassis, very firmly held in place by an array of metal clasps and reinforced rubber cords. “Isn’t it basically a good thing if they didn’t need it, though?” he said into the radio. “Well, sure, if you’re talking about war.” The HsSSV-01 Dragon Rider. This new form of vehicle was never officially introduced to the public due to the abrupt end of the war. These days, the media often reported on weaponry that hadn’t been used in the war getting transferred to big warehouses in District 2 and District 23. “But there must have been other ways to use it,” the driver went on. “Wasn’t the Dragon Rider originally supposed to be a new patrol bike for Anti-Skill? The city requisitioned them for World War III, customized the hell out of them, only to leave them to rot. Bam, into the back of a warehouse they go for the rest of time. You didn’t develop the thing just to see this happen.” Though they had no way of knowing, if Silvercross’s collection was the fruit of underworld technology, then their Dragon Rider was a model crammed full of all the tech regular society boasted, made to be used by servants of justice. “Does that frustrate you?” asked Jousawa. “I know you drive other things, but you’re still a driver.” “I should ask the same of you. You’re the one who made it.” The big bike on the box-framework trailer bed could reach a top speed of one thousand fifty kph. Not only did it have a jet engine in its chassis, but it also had linear motors inside the wheels, each of which was completely guarded by circular armor plating. The bike also had a pair of arms that extended from a spot near the front wheels out and away from it; these arms served as boosters, both for extra propulsion and as a steering override. “Well…” The cutting-edge bike had a host of features to keep itself moving on the ground, too: gyroscopes to help it stay upright, a fully electronic suspension system for shock absorption, and rear support wings to ensure the machine stayed on the ground and remained aerodynamic. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want it to be used for war. It’s just…” After all, the original design spec handed to them had asked for something that could freely race over the Russian wastes at a thousand kph at minimum and travel up seventy-degree inclines at three hundred kph at the minimum. The development team’s number one problem had been keeping it on the ground when it would otherwise fly off into the sky without any warning. “I don’t really care how—I just want it to help someone. At least once.” The driver fell silent for a moment at that. Eventually, he asked the mechanic, “You’re not referring to the reason for the rerouting, are you?” “I know you’re mad about this, too,” Jousawa complained. “Well, the darkness is on the move again—the same that confiscated this bike, then never used it.” “Kidnapped a kid, did they?” “And now they want us to get out of the way so we’re not mixed up in it, eh? The nerve.” Jousawa had heard a little about it on the phone earlier, but the driver must have been in contact with an officer or government official of some kind via the car radio. “No point bitching about it,” he answered in a self-deprecating tone. “I’m a weapons mechanic, and you’re the one driving the weapon. Our role is to get the Dragon Rider a good foothold—not to be heroes gallantly speeding onto the scene with it.” And then it happened. Jousawa heard a slam. Something seemed to have hit the outside of the trailer bed. He looked over and found a person—a boy who appeared about high school age, one hand on the metal frame. A victim of the accident? Maybe he was aggravated at having to wait around in this tunnel. The answer, however, was different. The boy began to climb up the box framework, and out of nowhere, said this to him: “This should work. Let me borrow it for a bit, would you?” “Huh?” “The motorcycle.” Whoa, hang on, thought Jousawa. Meanwhile, the high school–aged kid squatted by a few of the reinforced rubber cords holding the Dragon Rider to the box frame. He seemed to be looking at the bike’s keyhole. Jousawa had been a little guarded at first, but upon seeing the boy’s amateurish behavior, he relaxed. “Don’t bother,” he told him. “It’ll take a little more than a lockpick to get the engine run—” “Oh? Got it. There we go,” said the boy. “Hey!! No!! What the hell was the security team doing?!” “I’m actually studying up on road service.” “This is so far beyond that!!” They’d chosen an extremely elaborate analog lock on purpose to prevent any electronic hacking, but now that decision had come back to bite them. That wasn’t something a normal high school kid could pull off. The boy hopped onto the Dragon Rider, which was still held to the frame by the rubber cords. “Like I said, I need to borrow this motorcycle for a bit. I’d rather not explain the details if I don’t have to. But if you help me, you’ll be helping save a life. That much I can guarantee.” “What, trying to get a woman in labor to a hospital for a delivery?” joked Jousawa. But the answer that came back was far more earnest. “…It’s even more important than that.” “I see.” Jousawa pointed at the rubber. “The Dragon Rider’s clasps and belts can’t be undone without equipment. It takes two grown men and special tools to just have a chance. But you, a high school kid? I could give you the tools, and you wouldn’t even know how to use them.” “……” The boy grabbed one of the rubber cords, said something to himself, stammered, fell into thought, and eventually opened his mouth to speak again. “Do you know about the four-legged powered suit that came through this tunnel earlier?” “No? This is a bypass. The tunnel’s three kilometers long, no stops. You can’t see anyone too far ahead of you.” “Well, it kidnapped a girl,” the schoolboy said quickly. Jousawa’s brow twitched. That sounded eerily similar to the justification for the reroute he’d been given. “She’s about ten. They want to send a message. They’re trying to kill her as brutally as possible to get us as mad as possible. But they didn’t kill her on the spot. They probably want us to feel humiliated, like we’d let her slip through our fingers, and take their sweet time murdering her.” “What?” But Jousawa hadn’t heard that much—that murder was in the cards. “They might stuff her in a vinyl bag and send her back to us, or live stream it. Not really sure. Don’t want to think about it. Anyway, I have to get back on the chase before we totally lose them.” Jousawa heard a static buzz from his radio. It was an emergency request for confirmation. If he didn’t answer it, the driver would determine there was something wrong and spring into action—armed with a sawn-off shotgun. But Jousawa prevented this by answering, “Hold on.” The person on the other end of the radio didn’t reply. Instead, the high school boy turned to him. “What?” “Tell me her name,” said Jousawa. “Why?” “Hurry up!! I’ll decide when I hear it!!” “Fremea! Fremea Seivelun! About ten, wavy blond hair, blue eyes! Is that enough? Need anything else?! Like how she’s fascinated by violent gory games or how she hates green peas?!” The boy’s shouts almost came off as deranged. “Please! Lend me this so I can save her!! I know you might not be keeping up, but those people are actually gonna kill her before long!! She was smiling earlier today, too! But if we don’t hurry, she’ll be cold and never open her eyes again…!!” However, Jousawa grinned. Information about the darkness wasn’t easily obtainable. But this kid knew the name Fremea Seivelun, so he must be aware of a whole mountain of intel even Jousawa didn’t have. If anyone was seriously involved in the matter, it was this high schooler. Unlike mechanics and drivers, who would have to jump through a lot of hoops first, this kid could prevent tragedy from striking—as long as he had the Dragon Rider. That thought helped Jousawa make up his mind. “Well, wait,” he said. “You won’t be able to use it like that.” “You know we don’t have time to get the paperwork in order!” “I’m talking about something simpler. You just wouldn’t be able to handle that dark horse.” “…We don’t have time for pro sports training, either!” “That’s not what I’m saying. Wouldn’t matter if you were a world-famous racer with ten titles under your belt—humans don’t have the grip strength or endurance to ride it.” Almost casually, he pointed to another machine sitting on the trailer bed. “You need a specific powered suit to even have a chance.” The HsSSV-01 Dragon Rider had been developed as a brand-new type of powered suit. Its design abandoned the requirement to make it look humanoid. In other words, it wasn’t a motorcycle for powered suits to ride, but rather a powered suit that included a motorcycle. It had been designed with the following objectives in mind: extreme mobility in all kinds of weather and in every kind of environment, the ability to deploy groups of them swiftly, and the power to silence enemy forces. It could hit speeds of over a thousand kph even off road, and like dirt bikes made for tricks, it could handle the occasional seventy-degree, three-hundred-meter slopes and shoot over rivers over twenty meters wide. The powered suit boosted the wearer’s muscle strength while maintaining their balance with a complete electronic control system. Even at the absurd speeds it could reach, its specs allowed the wearer to use Gatling guns and smoothbores in one hand. If it had been deployed, it would have been a landmark achievement in the history of combat vehicles. “Not too shabby, eh?” commented Jousawa offhandedly as Shiage Hamazura got changed behind a wooden box affixed to a corner of the trailer bed. “We call it a powered suit, but it’s really for giving the wearer what they need to control the Dragon Rider—muscle strength, endurance, improved oxygen intake, and all that. The suit itself doesn’t make you invincible. It’s shaped essentially like a human body, so it should have the same center of balance, and it doesn’t weigh too much, either. Though, you can equip all the extra modules you want, depending on what you’re using it for.” Hamazura opened and closed his hands to see how it felt. On the whole, it was extremely thin. Unlike the current models of powered suit, which were akin to a larger version of a knight’s armor set, this was more of a riding suit with a full-face helmet. It was mostly gray, save for the black pieces that protected the vitals. It certainly seemed to be based on a human in terms of size, too, because it fit snugly around every part of his body, from the tips of his fingertips to the ends of his toes. “…It actually feels a little weird how well it seems to fit.” Hamazura’s voice came out muffled, since his face was completely behind his helmet. Which didn’t have a transparent visor, incidentally. The electronic instruments on the inside of the visor would provide him with all the visual stimuli, and other sensory information, he needed. Despite that, though, everything was perfect about the arrangement—in fact, Hamazura almost felt like his senses were even more vivid now. So much that he worried a little about people wearing it for too long and not being able to readjust to normal vision. “Well, it can’t break the sound barrier, but it still moves at high speed offroad,” Jousawa pointed out. “How many more Gs do you think you’ll be feeling compared to sitting in a jet fighter? It has to come standard with that whole lot of gear—otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to move the thing much at all.” “…You’re kidding.” “Don’t worry. Theoretically, it’s built to keep you alive and well even if you trip over something at full speed.” The driver, watching their exchange, sighed. “Are you sure about that?” “Hey, you helped unlock the Dragon Rider for him, too, didn’t you?” Jousawa retorted. “I think this ‘save the girl’ situation is messing with your brain,” said the driver. “If we can save a life in exchange for a letter of apology and a pay cut, it’ll all be worth it.” “……” Ignoring the driver as he fell silent, Jousawa turned back to Hamazura, suited up in the Dragon Rider. “Promise me something.” “I’ll try my best not to damage it,” said Hamazura, “but I don’t know if it’ll come back unharmed.” “If you’re going to ride it, then use it to its full potential. It’s okay if that means it ends up a heap of scrap metal. Other than that…” Jousawa’s expression suddenly grew serious as he said that. A chill seemed to settle around them, as though he had revealed another layer of himself. “Make sure you save that girl.”
Chapter 10
48 min read