“Hamazura?” asked Fremea uneasily. “It’ll be fine,” he asserted baselessly. The people in his cell phone contacts—Takitsubo and the others—popped into his head, but then he squashed his desire to be rescued. He couldn’t get them mixed up in this issue on a whim precisely because it was serious. “Hanzou went to find some reliable helpers,” he continued. “Once he gets back, we’ll be okay. No problem.” Hanzou would find Kuruwa and bring her here just fine. The girl had a lot of hideouts that Hamazura didn’t know about, so they wouldn’t have to worry about being pursued. While it wasn’t clear yet what they needed to do to make it out of this, reaching a safe place would be crucial for either laying low for an extended period or staging a counterattack. So as long as they could meet up with Kuruwa, the situation would take a turn for the better. At least, that was what he thought. Just then, a terrible screeching noise assaulted his eardrums. Gree-gree-gree-gree-gree!!!!!! It sounded like huge cogwheels scraping against the walls, and he could hear it from right outside the door to their private salon. Was there a machine making noise out in the hallway? No—the door itself was vibrating. “Wh-what’s that?! Seriously, what could that…?!” cried Fremea. “Get back!!” Hamazura shouted without wasting a moment, getting in front of Fremea. But he couldn’t think of anything else he could actually do. He didn’t even have a handle on what was going on. And so the situation played out to their opponent’s advantage. With a loud ba-gammmm, the door fell inward. It didn’t open—it fell. By the time Hamazura realized the two hinges and the dead bolt near the knob had all been cleanly sliced through, something had already burst into the room. A noise like bee wings amplified thousands of times shook the air around him, joined by cogs and chains running together. It was coming from several disklike machines. They were each about seventy meters across, and on the inside of their metallic outer frames sat two propellers, one above and one below, which reminded him of bathing visors for little kids. The propellers provided both lift and propulsion, and they were attached to a hollow core. He wondered if you could pass a post through them to store more than one. They must have been unmanned reconnaissance crafts remotely controlled by AI. That by itself wasn’t harmful. The issue was the outer frame itself. Surrounding the circular frame were the sources of those cog-and-chain-like noises—chain saws. When Hamazura saw the model name printed on the outer frame’s upper surface, he could only imagine it being used for awful things. EDGE_BEE. “Damn it!” Three of these machines had flown into the room. Rather than shooting forward like bullets, they froze in midair, then slowly began circling around the area to surround Hamazura and Fremea. They moved like a group of hornets that had found a target. Despite how prevalent cleaning and security robots were in Academy City, residents didn’t often get a chance to see machines this dangerous. There was only one person he could think of who would have access to them. “Our pursuer…? But how did they know we were here?” murmured Hamazura. Then everything clicked. Because Hanzou left to go after Kuruwa…? They used the surveillance cameras and video feeds from the robots to backtrack his route!! That means Kuruwa was just bait. They didn’t need to catch her and harm her. They only had to cut her off from contacting us!! Of course, that was no simple task. They’d have needed complete view permissions on the city’s surveillance and communications networks, then follow their target and disable a single, specific cell phone. They’d probably covered any spots the network couldn’t reach with more of these drones. Just as he’d suspected, this pursuer must have had some kind of connection to Academy City’s government, along with free use over their systems. “Wh-what should we do?” Fremea asked. “Run away. What else? These toys are dangerous. We shouldn’t be playing around with them.” He and Fremea were up against lethal weapons. Those machines could fly wherever they wanted and cut down any doors or walls that got in the way with their chain saws. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could destroy them all. And standing around would just lead to them getting hurt. …An exit, thought Hamazura, looking around. We need to get out of this room somehow!! There was only a single door to the private salon, but one of the Edge Bees was hovering right next to it. They wouldn’t be able to get near it. And maybe they couldn’t avoid a fight at this point—not now, when their attackers had already pounced. But if they had to fight, they didn’t need to win. They just needed to get away. We’re up against unmanned recon drones that use contrarotating propellers to stay upright and get lift. Which means their weakness is… “Listen, Fremea,” he said. “When I give the signal, run for the exit as fast as you can.” “But—” “Don’t worry.” Vweeeeeee!! The Edge Bees’ chain saws continued to whirl, producing an eerie noise. Hamazura kept the machine near the entrance in the corner of his eye, glancing over at a floor lamp. “I’ll draw that one away,” he said. “Once that disk leaves the exit, run straight out of here. Understand?” Fremea gave a little nod. Slowly, Hamazura drew up to the table. Then as he reached for a plastic glass, he shouted, “Now!!” and hurled the glass at the Edge Bee stationed at the exit. It didn’t hit the machine, instead crashing into the wall nearby. But the three Edge Bees reacted, immediately moving in… …to cut him off. “Run!!” “But…what about you?!” “Don’t worry about me! I’ll catch up!!” Hamazura grabbed the floor lamp with both hands. Spurred by his shout, Fremea dashed toward the entrance. Seeing her start running, Hamazura turned back to the lethal weapons coming at him, then flung the lamp at one of them as hard as he could. This time, he landed a hit. But that was all. His mechanical foe didn’t go down. In fact, the lamp had ended up stuck to one of its whirling chain saws. “Wha—?” As he stared in shock, the floor lamp whipped around and around, gaining centrifugal force. And then as a counterstrike, the Edge Bee fired the blunt object straight at him. Bwooom!! It flew as fast as an arrow. Hamazura bent as far as he could manage, just barely avoiding it. The lamp struck the wall and stuck inside it like a javelin. They can change the blades to switch between grabbing and slicing?! Now that he thought about it, the machines hadn’t cut the door down. It had been less like a normal saw with dozens of sharp points on it and more like fingers scraping at it over and over again. Hamazura snatched up a decorative parasol nearby, but he didn’t want to just toss it carelessly like last time. And the three Edge Bees didn’t wait for him. The lethal disks all lunged for him, like they wanted to eliminate him now that he’d become aggressive. Keeping himself from flinching, Hamazura just barely managed to leap forward. The Edge Bees were traveling fast—unimaginably fast for machines that had just been hovering a moment ago. They weren’t going as quick as the lamp they’d hurled, but they were still faster than a thrown rock. Anything that struck at that speed would already warrant an ambulance ride. And these had special chain saws attached. A direct hit from one would tear through Hamazura’s flesh and possibly even rip him in half. And crucially, the Edge Bees had cut off the door on their way in. The real issue wasn’t how sharp their blades were. It was how they’d taken time to cut through it. Which meant… They never lose their balance in midair, even if they run into a wall or dig into it with their chain-saw blades. Probably thanks to intense balance control, maybe using gyros or image analysis. Or ultrasonic waves. Hamazura doubted he could bring down a machine like that if he flung his parasol at them. In fact, they could probably evade it pretty easily. Plus, if he was careless, they could throw it back at him. However… …at the end of the day, they still had a weakness: They hovered by using contrarotating propellers. And that was because… No matter how high-spec the machine, it’ll fall if its propellers stop!! “Hamazura!! Watch out!!” Fremea screamed from the entrance. With a gvvvrnnn, the Edge Bees charged Hamazura from three directions simultaneously. Just before their rapidly spinning blades reached him, he ducked as low as he could go. That wouldn’t be enough to get out of harm’s way—not against machines of this caliber. But then before the Edge Bees could correct their courses, he stabbed the folded-up parasol up into one of the from below. The parasol jammed into the machine’s two sets of propellers, each rotating a different way. The metal parasol handle broke with an awful grrrk-grrrrk!! But the Edge Bee didn’t make it out unscathed, either. Orange sparks flew, and crucially, with the machine’s propellers jammed, it stopped moving. This had probably damaged the internal motors and gears, too. Unable to reverse course, the Edge Bee plummeted to the floor, then bounced into one of the other drones attacking Hamazura from another direction. And while its propellers had stopped, its chain saws were still more than functional. Their two blades clashed against each other, flinging the machine around the room like a billiard ball. Hamazura used the chance to slip away, running toward the exit where Fremea was waiting. The last drone tried to go after him, but then he dug his fingers under the fallen door and lifted it up. Then he swung down hard at the incoming mech. The door fell, and the force wasn’t coming just from his arm strength. As mentioned, the Edge Bee’s contrarotating propellers provided it lift and propulsion. But the machine wouldn’t be able to fly anymore if an artificial “wind” came down from above and disrupted the flow of air around it. Which could happen if, for instance, someone covered the propeller with a large board… With a ka-bam, the last drone fell to the floor. Hamazura jumped onto the door atop the Edge Bee, landing on it as hard as he could. Then he jumped a few more times for good measure, using all his weight to crush the precision machine. Military weaponry was designed to be durable. But if Hamazura could bend those delicate propellers even slightly, it wouldn’t be able to generate lift anymore. Then his victory would be assured. “Okay, great—” “Hurry!! Hamazura, we have to run!!” Fremea shouted. Hamazura burst out of the room and met up with her. But then… …grrrrack-grack-grack-grack came the roaring of chain saws. He looked back into the room and saw an Edge Bee—the one whose engine he’d wrecked with the parasol, sending it bouncing to a corner of the room—rise again. It put the side of its disk to the floor. And it maintained perfect balance. And then… …the Edge Bee zoomed straight at Hamazura, using its chain saws as a tire. Oh, shit!! Whatever’s controlling its balance is really something else!! He’d taken a step back out of fright and bumped into the wall of the hallway behind him. His shoes lost their grip on impact, and he fell to the floor on his rear. That was when yet another threat appeared. Zzzmmm!! Something sliced straight through the wall he was up against. A spear about three meters in length that looked like it was made of compressed air appeared from the other side at a sharp angle. After splitting through the wall, it smashed into the approaching Edge Bee and destroyed it—along with the floor. But Hamazura wasn’t happy about this turn of events. He’d been lucky he was sitting down. If he’d been standing up during that attack, he’d be on the floor in several pieces right now. “Hamazura, no!! The wall’s coming apart!!” “Whaaaaaa—?!” Panicking, he rolled to the side just as the damaged wall collapsed into the hallway. A single figure emerged from the dust. The residual force of the translucent spears that came from both their hands had completely blown away the debris. The newcomer clicked their tongue. “You’re supposed to work with me here, Silvercross. What a waste of money.” There stood a girl who looked about twelve. But the moment Hamazura laid eyes on her, he sensed something like sludge from within her. A palpable air of practiced lethality and chaos. She smelled like the darkness, a stench you could never cover up. A different kind from Hamazura and Hanzou, too. This girl was gifted. Breathing heavily, Hamazura slowly got to his feet. He’d seen those clear spears before—the ones that had shot forth from her hands, still ripping up the wall and floor. “That ability is…” “Oh? It’s Bomber Lance—spears made of nitrogen. Might you have a friend with a similar abiliity?” Whoosh. The girl smiled thinly, giving a light swing of a spear to tear up the walls around her. “It’s basically the same as the smoothbore-cannon rounds Silvercross and his Enemy Blaster were using. APFSDS. They use incredibly high pressure to punch through objects. That help any, hmmm?” Her words were almost devoid of tension and strain—and even hostility and malice, to be honest. But that didn’t change the fact that her javelins possessed overwhelming destructive potential. “Anyway, this is no time to be impressed with me, is it? Silvercross has thirty Edge Bees buzzing around as we speak. Or are you the type who would gladly become a chunk of meat to save that kid?” “?! Fremea, use the north emergency exit! Run!!” “…Hmm,” said the Bomber Lance girl, seeming uninterested as she turned, spotting the short, blond figure hiding behind a pillar. “Thanks for cluing me in. Since you both got out of the room, I assumed you’d be farther from each other right now.” …It’s exactly like how they left Hanzou alone to find out where we were…!! “Just go, Fremea!!” Hamazura had no illusions about his opponent being a regular twelve-year-old girl. He jumped straight up. Then he grabbed the edge of the shutter meant for fire prevention with both hands, as though he was doing a slam dunk. He let his weight do the work, falling to the floor with the shutter in tow. Straight at the girl’s head, like a guillotine. She casually turned around. Boom!!!!!! The metal shutter blasted apart like a sponge stuffed with gunpowder. Bomber Lance. She had merely pointed her palm overhead. That was all she’d needed to do to destroy the thick, blunt object. Though the spear had missed Hamazura, it had sent metal shards shooting into his body, sending him flying. “Ghahhh!!” This won’t work!! he thought. I can’t fight her without an actual weapon!! “Hamazura!!” Fremea cried, looking like she was going to run over to him. “Get out of here, Fremea!! Hurry!!” he screamed at her. She flinched. Though she hesitated in the middle of the hallway for a moment, she eventually turned and ran off toward the emergency stairwell. The Bomber Lance girl watched her, then simply said, “Silvercross?” “Ugh!!” Hamazura immediately tried to jump her, but before he could, she swung her arm a few times. That was all it took to break the hallway floor into huge chunks, which proceeded to fall to the story below. The path in front of Hamazura had been reduced to a cliff. That didn’t seem necessary. With that much power at her disposal, she could have killed him just by aiming at him. Then she could have focused on chasing down Fremea. The girl was clearly toying with him. “Guess I’ll follow her. And if I still can’t find her, then we use Operation Scream… Suffering is much more fun than outright murder.” Hamazura swore, then turned his back to her. He’d have to take a detour to meet back up with Fremea now. And more importantly, if he wanted to stand up against the Edge Bees and the Bomber Lance girl, he’d need a better weapon. 6 No matter the school district, no matter the city—there were always empty spaces. While District 3 bristled with buildings, a powered suit stood in one of its empty lots, left behind after the structure there had been dismantled. Decrepit buildings cost more to maintain, but the owner likely wanted to keep the plot open in the hopes of profiting from land-price fluctuations. Silvercross was wearing a different powered suit this time. It had a huge sensor dome for a head, but he thought it was much less intimidating in appearance than the other suit, since it had two arms and legs. That said, the suit did have twelve iron beams protruding from its back. Slotted onto some of these beams were a collection of Edge Bees. Since each beam could hold ten, its total carrying capacity was over a hundred. About half of the drones were away at the moment. The beams served as both nests for the Edge Bees and high-precision antennae. This suit specialized in reconnaissance and information gathering. Even at this very moment, Silvercross was not only receiving visual feeds from multiple Edge Bees, but also intercepting the radio waves used by cleaning and security robots; he’d hooked into the communication network via a cable that went from the mech’s armor and led underground to receive information directly from the robot infrastructure. It was obvious what this was all for. “All right. That should have blocked off her escape route.” Silvercross’s plan was to capture Fremea Seivelun from inside the private salon. But if he stationed Edge Bees around the building and hacked into the nearby crime-prevention cameras, he’d be able to completely eliminate even the smallest possibility of her slipping away. Judging by how big the building was and how many guests it had, he expected the place to be in disarray. But even through the commotion, he wouldn’t miss his target’s face. Will Kuroyoru snatch her up first? Or will the opportunity—and the credit—fall to me? One way or another, this is the end of the line for Fremea Seivelun. He considered the possibility that Item would intervene based on Shiage Hamazura’s presence in the facility, but if that happened, it would be time for him to use his own power—which was incredibly strong and incredibly easy to understand. The Bee Launcher is an information-gathering mech. I should change into a powered suit that’s made for combat. The owner wouldn’t care. In Silvercross’s opinion, you weren’t supposed to choose a weapon and stick with it. You had to choose the ideal one for the situation to maximize their effectiveness. As far as he was concerned, no single weapon was superior to all others, which was why he never overestimated an individual weapon’s capabilities. Actually, if the target moves in the meantime, I’ll lose sight of her again. She should be my first priority. Which means… After Silvercross thought that far, the powered suit vibrated slightly. Bwrrr. Thanks to the suit’s information-gathering capabilities, his many Edge Bees scattered across the city had located a threat. It dawned on him that the powered suit was pointlessly accelerating his own thoughts. If he started to panic, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Not good. That threat was someone his power—that brute-force, to-the-point strength he excelled in most—would have no effect on. A threat that should have been Umidori Kuroyoru’s job to handle. Item is nothing compared to this. I can’t think of a worse matchup!! 7 Shiage Hamazura bolted down the southern emergency stairwell. He and Fremea were still separated. To save her, he would need a weapon. This private salon served rich kids of upper-class parents—not people who had backgrounds similar to his. Consequently, they offered a few rather odd services here. An indoor shooting range, for example. Obviously, they wouldn’t have handguns or hunting rifles that used live rounds. But they would have plenty of things that didn’t violate Academy City regulations: projectile weapons like crossbows, longbows, blowpipes, and rubber-bullet bolt-action rifles. Following the map of the building on a sign, Hamazura flew out of the stairwell and onto another floor. This area didn’t have doors at regular intervals like a hotel or karaoke place would. Instead, it was wide-open, its corridors placed in a cross shape, creating four large rooms dedicated to different activities, like bowling or shooting. But getting to the range wouldn’t be that easy—an Edge Bee was in the hallway right in front of it. Normally, most people would think getting into the range as soon as possible was the best idea. The natural thought process was grab an effective weapon, then counterattack. But Hamazura’s mind was already past capacity. A massive shudder ran through him, and then he began trembling. “Ahhh… Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!” The shaking was partly a consequence of him dropping his facade—the facade of needing to prioritize the clearly powerless Fremea over his own safety. The fear of impending death. The all-too-real image of ragged chain saws tearing through flesh and bone. They sapped the strength from his arms and legs and scrambled his ability to make decisions. No matter how much experience Hamazura had, no matter how quick-witted he was, no matter what he’d seen on the front lines in World War III…he was still a high school kid in Academy City, Japan. He was no soldier. He hadn’t been honed for years as a professional killer. Without that crucial foundation, he was guaranteed to feel dread when he came face to face with a serious crisis. Why…? he thought candidly, his legs barely holding him upright. Why? Why the hell am I always getting into these situations?! The war is over. Who needs these weapons anymore?! How insane do you have to be to point one of these at an unarmed civilian?! But the Edge Bee wouldn’t wait for him. It shot straight at him, aiming to slice through his abdomen. Hamazura didn’t think before grabbing a nearby fire extinguisher. “Raaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!” He swung it lengthwise, striking the chain-saw blades directly. The extinguisher exploded on impact. Because its gas was rushing out of a place it was never designed to accommodate, what shot out was not only white particles but also metallic shards, which rocketed into the ceiling. Nevertheless, the extinguisher had knocked the Edge Bee back quite a bit. Maybe the machine’s power had worked against it, and its chain saws had gotten caught on the thrown fire extinguisher while they were still in slicing mode, pushing the Edge Bee away. Alternatively, perhaps it maintained its balance via video feed, and the visual obstruction of the extinguisher’s contents had thrown off its sense of direction. The Edge Bee tried to reright itself in midair, only to collide with the wall before it could accomplish this. More specifically, a decorative flagpole sticking out of the wall diagonally had rammed straight through the machine’s contrarotating propellers—the wings it used to move. They bent out of shape, and then he heard a splitting sound from inside the machine. Hamazura watched the Edge Bee, hanging there on the pole like a hat, and gulped. Did I get it…? Then it happened. With an electronic beep, a light-emitting diode near its camera changed color. “Damn it!!” Going pale, Hamazura whipped open the door to the shooting range and dove inside. The explosion came just a moment later. Boom!!!!!! The noise rattled his eardrums. The blast didn’t only give off a wave of heat, either. A sharp pain ran up Hamazura’s arm. Something had torn through his clothes and gotten lodged in it—a three-pronged object, each spike shaped like a J, like something used as a fishing lure. The Edge Bee had contained both explosives and hundreds of these lures. It made sense to have spikes or metal balls inside to increase the lethality of the blast—but fishing lures? That was downright nasty. After all, lures were specifically made to be difficult to remove. The three prongs dug into skin at an upward angle, so they were nearly impossible to dislodge. “Hrrrrghhh!!” Biting down on a handkerchief so he wouldn’t bite his tongue instead, Hamazura ripped out the lure with his thumb and index finger. Mind-breaking agony shot through his whole arm. A greasy sweat broke out on his face. This is actually absurd… Using the handkerchief to bind the wound as best he could, he wobbled over to the shooting-range counter. All kinds of projectile weapons were hanging behind it. Normally, an employee would be watching them, but because of the attack, nobody was there now. These guys are real nasty—and different from the darkness I’ve experienced. They’re not trying to conserve their energy and bide their time while waiting for an advantage. They just want to see us suffer… He climbed over the counter and looked across the weapons. If he could have, he’d have taken as many of them as he could to protect himself. But they were all large—each of them over a meter. Maybe getting enough power while staying within regulations demanded a certain size, or maybe they stocked a lot of big kinds due to customer demand or popularity. Either way, at most, he’d be able to take one. He wanted the most powerful weapon he could get. Something even an amateur like him could use. After thinking about it for a few moments, he made his choice. …An electric-driven blowpipe. A blowpipe was an implement for blowing out darts or other projectiles. This one, about a hundred and ten centimeters long, had been modified for sporting events. It was made of a synthetic resin also used in things like knives and aircraft. Normally, blowpipes weren’t lethal. While they did use sharp, needle-tipped ammunition, those projectiles could only travel as fast as human lungs could propel them. Certain indigenous peoples used them to fell large beasts, but they would tip their darts in poison to secure the kill—the force of the projectile itself wasn’t lethal. But this one was electric-driven. The internal sensor would detect a missile going through the pipe and use an air compressor to boost its speed. It would have been a fine weapon by just letting the machine part do the work, but it required the user to blow regardless—undoubtedly a measure to skirt Academy City’s regulations. The dart would be pushed by an air force that was stronger by several times, if not several dozen times than human breath alone. That gave it enough punch to pierce a sheet of plywood a few centimeters thick. Plus, thanks to the laser pointer attached near the tip, it would be easy enough aim. Hamazura grabbed a box of projectiles for the blowgun—they were stabilized with fins, much like dart flights. The weapon itself didn’t stop him from shaking. The resolve to pick it up, rather, gave him strength once more. …This doesn’t mean I have a surefire chance of taking the Edge Bees down. And I don’t even know if it’ll so much as graze that Bomber Lance esper. But it’s so, so much better that I have it. At the very least, it’ll let me get Fremea out of here! Just then, he heard a noise. Immediately ducking behind the counter, he opened a spot about forty centimeters behind the end of the pipe and loaded a dart. But then he stopped. The source of the sound wasn’t an Edge Bee, nor was it that unknown esper. It was a middle-aged man. His suit was worn, and the knot in his necktie was crooked. He was sweating profusely, likely out of tension and terror; his face was dripping, and his button-down shirt was soaked through. “…You don’t look like you work here,” remarked Hamazura, standing up from behind the counter. “Are you a guest?” While 80 percent of Academy City’s population was students, the other 20 percent was adults. He didn’t know whether adults would want to rent out a secret base like this, but there was technically nothing preventing them from using private salons. Hamazura grabbed a longbow from behind the counter, then tossed it to the man. “You’d better get out of here if you want to stay alive. Those drones can saw through walls and doors. They’re tearing the whole place apart. They might not be after you, but if you stay here, you’ll get caught in the cross fire. Plus, they’re stuffed with explosives. You should escape if you’re able.” “……” With sluggish motions, the man reached for the longbow. It was less that he was affirming his will to fight and more that he was grabbing something that happened to be flying at him. Frankly speaking, Hamazura couldn’t sense any real intent behind the action. The man slowly shifted his gaze from the longbow to Hamazura. “…Wh-what are you going to do?” “Get out of here, obviously. This is nuts. Killer drones are swarming the place. And there’s an esper who’s even more powerful fooling around—she has spears that can cut through steel beams. If I stick around, I’ll die. So I’m gonna make a break for it. Even if it’s cowardly of me.” Hamazura began to take the blowpipe darts out of the box and tuck them into his belt. His hands were trembling in panic, but he didn’t have time to calm himself down. “But first, I’ve gotta save a girl. Her name’s Fremea. I don’t know if I could ever beat monsters like that, but I’ve gotta get her to safety at least.” “Why?” The man tilted his head in a childlike display of confusion. “Anti-Skill will show up before long. You said the drones are searching all the rooms in the building. Do you know how many there are? Hundreds! If we just wait here, those things will keep wasting time. And while they do, help will come!! The best way to keep our heads on our shoulders is staying put!! Anything else is careless. We need to hide!!” “Maybe you’re right.” If Anti-Skill was strong enough to resolve this mess. If the enemy didn’t have dozens of flying cameras and the ability to use them efficiently. If their foes didn’t get angry and blow things up, instead of just giving up if they didn’t get what they wanted. “But maybe you’re wrong,” Hamazura continued. “And like I said, I’ve gotta get Fremea out of this salon. She’s only, like, ten, man. Her life is in way more danger than ours. And she might die even if I help her. I can’t leave her. That’ll just get her killed that much quicker. I have to distract them as much as I can.” “…But why…?” asked the man again. Hamazura didn’t force him. “Sorry. I’m not trying to get you to come with me. It’s your life. You have the right to choose. But if you want somewhere to hide, don’t do it here. I already tried. I scrapped one of the Edge Bees right before getting here. A replacement might come around to look. At least get to another room.” “No. No, that’s not it.” The man shook his head several times. That was when Hamazura realized something other than terror was causing his trembling. “How can you think about others in a situation like this…?” At first, it was a delirious mumbling, but his voice steadily grew louder. “I came here looking for my daughter. She ran away from home. For some reason, she didn’t ask Anti-Skill or Judgment for help. She’s trying to solve a dangerous problem all by herself. She started using the private salon as a secret base so she wouldn’t get her family involved. And I only learned those things by snooping around on my own. I was prepared to do anything. To bring her back home before she got mixed up into something she couldn’t get out of. Getting here was such a struggle.” From the way the man was speaking, it seemed like he would start coughing up blood any moment. “But real danger is something else. Experiencing it in real life broke me. I can’t think of anyone but myself. It doesn’t matter what’s happening. It doesn’t matter that you gave me a bow. I can’t bring myself to even consider using it to help my daughter! No matter what I have, all I can think of is how to save myself!! …How does someone…get to be like you? I’m serious. How the hell do I think of others when staring death in the face?!” The man was utterly terrified of losing his life. His thoughts had warped, twisted in such a way as to spare him the terror. The broken man trembled quietly, wallowing in the depths of despair. “…What are you talking about?” However… …Shiage Hamazura’s face held no contempt. No scorn. “You found a wife, made a real family, and worked your ass off to protect them. If your daughter has enough money to use a private salon that frequently, then you must put in a crapton of work for your family, right? You didn’t build what you have just because everyone else was doing it, because it was what you were ‘supposed’ to do or something. When your daughter disappeared, when your family was on the verge of falling apart, you came here to protect them, even if it meant breaking your own rules.” Hamazura wasn’t trying to comfort him. They weren’t trite words, neatly packaged in a way that wouldn’t hurt the man. “Everyone has things I don’t,” he said. “No matter how much I struggle, I never get them. But I still desperately want to. That’s my end goal.” A yearning. Its purity meant Hamazura could lay his heart bare. “Stick your chest out, hero. You’re the kind of person I look up to.” The man hung his head for a time, not saying anything. Ruminating on those words. Eventually, he stopped shaking. The once-broken man then looked up. “…I’ll go, too,” he said. “Staying here won’t make the situation better.” “Are you sure?! I mean—” “You want to get that girl Fremea out of here. I’m the same way. I want to rescue my daughter.” “You saw how chaotic it was out there. Do you know where she is?” “She’s a lot like me in some ways. I’m sure she’s sheltering in place. I know her room number. I plan to go that far, at least.” “I see…,” murmured Hamazura, reaffirming his grip on the electric-driven blowpipe. “Then I’ll distract the Edge Bees as much as I can. If you know where you’re going, it’s easy. You just have to run like hell.” “Distract them… Did you even hear a word I said?! You may have a weapon, but that doesn’t make you invincible. There’s so many of them! If they come at you all at once—” “This is my fault,” interrupted Hamazura. “The commotion, those Edge Bees, that weird esper busting down walls—I brought that whole mess here. I’m not strong enough to make everything right. I can only do what I can. But please let me do that much. Even if I can only do what I can, let me do that!!” Not willing to hear any further warnings, Hamazura burst out of the indoor-shooting range-doorway into the hallway. Just as the Bomber Lance girl broke through another wall across from him. “Oh, would you please just meet up with Fremea?” she said. “Lead me to her, will you?” “…!!” “Or would you prefer to do it the other way around? If I can make you scream loud enough that everyone in the building could hear it, would she come to you? Or would she get scared and run away?” Her words didn’t faze him. What else had he gotten a weapon for? He brought the electric-driven blowpipe up with both hands, pointing the laser right in the middle of the girl’s body. Then he blew into the pipe as hard as he could. The electric-powered compressor multiplied the force of his breath dozens of times. Whaaaaap!!!!!! came a dull noise. It wasn’t anything close to a gunshot. Like a bow and arrow, the sound of the blowpipe’s projectile striking the target was far louder. But it also wasn’t the sound of esper flesh tearing apart. Nor was it her ability blocking it. She’d just twisted her body slightly; the dart-shaped arrow had stabbed into the wall behind her. The girl still had a look of pure confidence on her face. But Hamazura had gained something. She’d dodged his shot—she hadn’t deflected it. That must have meant she would have gotten hurt if he had hit her. She’d dodged because she thought she couldn’t block. The esper girl could, at most, create nitrogen spears. She couldn’t shield herself with impenetrable walls. In other words… I can win! I just have to land a hit!! Hamazura opened the part about forty centimeters from the blowpipe’s exit, then plucked a dart-shaped arrow from his pants belt to fire a second time. That was when the Bomber Lance girl moved. Roooooar!! A spear formed at each of her hands, tearing with almost comical ease through the walls on either side of her…as they closed in on Hamazura terrifyingly fast. Shit! Do I have time?! Before the girl could get up close, Hamazura finished loading the blowpipe and shut the lid. But as he brought it up in both hands, she was already within killing range. Purposely erasing one of her spears, she covered one end of the blowpipe with her palm. “Want me to fire it the other way?” “?!” He immediately let go of the weapon and twisted his neck far to the side. A moment later came the new nitrogen spear, which pierced straight through the blowpipe. Booooom!! The rush of hot air was accompanied by a minor graze on the cheek from the spear as the blowpipe ruptured. The sharp resin pieces dug slightly into Hamazura’s skin. Then the impact threw him wide. As he fell to the floor, he took another arrow from his belt. He’d wanted to make a direct counterattack, but the girl sent her foot flying at him before he could even wind up. “Gah?!” She kicked him between his wrist and elbow, pinning his arm to the floor. And then she pointed her palm right at Hamazura’s chest—a palm that could create lethal spears. “Fremea Seivelun,” she said casually. “Just like I planned. Time to test whether your screaming will call her here.” But then something else happened. “Kuroyoru.” A voice came from inside her clothes, even though she didn’t seem to have a cell phone of any sort. “We have a problem. Break off and get outside. I’ll take over inside the facility.” “Item backup?” “No. Something worse. An impossible matchup with my brute force. And this was something you were always meant to handle.” “I see.” Saying all she wanted to say, the girl removed her foot from Hamazura’s arm. “Good timing. Everything was going so quickly that I was starting to lag behind.” “Ugh…” Hamazura put a hand to the wall and managed to get to his feet, trying to block the girl’s way. But then she did something unexpected. After slicing through a nearby wall with her spear, she jumped inside, then threw herself at a thick window to smash through it. Glass shattered, and her small body went flying out the high floor of the building. But she didn’t fall. She’d spread her hands out horizontally; now nitrogen spears were erupting from them, holding her in place in midair. It wasn’t just pure force—she was manipulating the air with her spears, creating a whirling current behind her. “You mentioned Item, didn’t you?” demanded Hamazura of the hovering girl, dragging his injured body over. “Answer me. It’s not just Fremea. Are you planning on doing something to them too?” “Oh, don’t rush. You’ll find out soon. Whether you want to or not.” Leaving him with that, the girl cut her spear-jets and let herself plunge straight down, back toward the ground. Naturally, falling wasn’t her goal—it was landing. She would probably turn her jets back on near the ground. “Damn it…” After thinking for a moment, Hamazura turned and went for the emergency staircase. The Bomber Lance girl seemed to have retreated for the moment, but the Edge Bees were still swarming the building. 8 Umidori Kuroyoru landed. As the private salon’s occupants flooded out of the building to flee the chaos within, they bumped into those who had instead gathered to watch what was happening. A sizable crowd had formed out front. While a member of the underworld, she felt no concern about the commotion. Her face overflowed with confidence. Even a student playing a game on their cell phone while waiting for their friends there would have looked a little more concerned. She clicked her tongue. “Come on, Silvercross. Where is this backup you mentioned?” A quick look around revealed nothing obvious. Only her provisional male subordinates, who were always keeping an eye on her movements and adjusting their positions to better protect her. Kuroyoru headed to the open café next door and took a seat outside. Placing her inflatable dolphin on one of the remaining three seats of the table, she ordered the black tea that was recommended. Once her order was ready, she brought the teacup to her lips. …Someone, somewhere, is probably racking their brain over this. I guess flashier is better—if I want to link up their routes anyway. Naturally, the city’s denizens were watching the swarm of flying Edge Bees and the attack on the private salon. Nobody stepped in to try and stop the violence, though. They may have thought it was strange, or weird, but with the situation evolving by the second, they just couldn’t keep up. This was the difference between their world and this one—the underworld. Besides, the darkness only functioned because it was more powerful than this surface facade. Anyway, I just have to stall these reinforcements long enough for Silvercross’s Edge Bees to track down Fremea…but I don’t know where the troublemakers are. Isn’t that the most important part? But then it happened. She heard the cla-click of a footstep. A wicked grin appeared on Umidori Kuroyoru’s lips. She could smell it. The scent of insanity. Of someone trying to blend in with the passersby and clearly failing. In plain terms, it was the kind of smell unique to someone who had been steeped in the darkness. “Oh?” said Kuroyoru as a piece of paper slid down onto the table. Next to the apparently popular blend of black tea was a photograph—of Fremea Seivelun. “…Well, well. Just like the report said. Though, your first entrance to the stage wasn’t supposed to be so early,” she said with a smirk to the person across the table. A Level Five. “Seriously. Number Four would have been easier to handle, too.” Yes. Across from her stood Number One: Accelerator. Accelerator tossed the photograph of Fremea Seivelun onto the table, then gauged the girl’s reaction. He’d made it this close thanks to several nuggets of information, such as the marked-up map. But the explosion and the swarm of drones had been what really gave everything away. In all honesty, if he hadn’t come through this way, he’d have gone to either the building or to where the drones had originated anyway. Heading to the open café instead had been pure coincidence. It had been so very easy to understand. After all, the scent of darkness coming off several people nearby—the girl’s underlings, trying to blend into the scenery—had been almost palpable. “Well, take a seat,” said the girl with a thin smile, a dangerous light coming into her eyes. “This stuff came recommended. It’s called… Uhhh, actually, the name was too long, so I didn’t read it. Anyway, try it out. I can guarantee it’s not great, though.” Accelerator sat down across from her, then picked a completely different brand of tea from the menu. That ended up being pretty bad, too. “…No matter what you pick, you lose,” he muttered. “That’s life.” “Who are you?” “Did you really think I’d just introduce myself?” “You’re Umidori Kuroyoru.” “…Ugh. You just wanted confirmation, didn’t you?” She glanced around; a few of the underlings she remembered stationing nearby were missing. They were so unimportant that she didn’t even remember their names or faces, but apparently, they’d been dragged into the shadows. In their place, a girl with an arm cast wearing an ao dai looked over and gave a little wave. The only thing she could see in her smile was contempt. What a simple method, she thought. But I have to hand it to them— I didn’t notice until he talked. She gave up. “You’re right… Cut off a few of their fingers, did you?” “Nah. Threw them into an automated raw-garbage disposer in some alley or other and asked them some questions in exchange for not turning them into fertilizer.” “Wait, that’s all it took to get them to talk? I ought to chop off a few of their fingers myself.” “Not that I got much,” added Accelerator, cutting her off. “They seemed pretty clueless. I only got your name, Silvercross’s, and the word Freshmen… That term sounded fairly important, considering their nonsensical pride in it. They coughed up your names but didn’t tell me any more about that.” “…Guess I’ll have to chop off all their fingers, then. And their legs,” she replied, pouting while saying some very frightening things. She picked up an inflatable dolphin from another seat and started to stroke it—maybe she used it to cope with stress. “Anyway, what do you want?” “I should be asking you that,” he spat. “The darkness should be gone. I got rid of it. I forcibly dismantled the entire framework underpinning the city’s underworld. That was how the conversation went at the end of that shitty world war. Everyone being manipulated for the higher-ups’ ends should have been set free. And yet here you are, clearly still working in the shadows. Why?” At the end of World War III, he’d told the messenger from the higher-ups this: Don’t ever give orders using that kid or the Sisters as a shield. And freeze the Third Season. Killing ’em, making ’em, doesn’t matter. Never toy with their lives for your own convenience ever again. And this: Release everyone in the same circumstances I was in, too. I won’t allow you to use anything as a shield to push dirty jobs on people in the underworld. If I catch you doing it even once, I will not hesitate to turn against you. I will crush you as many times, as many dozens of times as I need to, as long as you keep up these atrocities. “Yeah.” Kuroyoru brought the cup to her lips, took in its scent, took it in again and again, then crooked her head to the side, still not sure of the difference. “We got a message about that. It sent everything back to the drawing board—all those hostages and conditions serving as chains on people. They kinda seemed happy, in fact. I didn’t get the sense that you really terrorized the higher-ups—more like they were giving you a reward for carrying out your role in the war… That debt of yours got canceled because of your accomplishments, didn’t it?” “……” “You know, there’s something I always wanted to say to you if I ever happened to meet you. I’d actually forgotten about it until just now. But seeing your face reminded me. So here goes. No holding back.” The cup still in her hands, Kuroyoru closed her eyes for a moment. Then she opened them. And said this: “…If you think everyone in the world can be friends, you’re dead wrong.” A moment later. Boom!!!!!! An explosion split the table cleanly in two. Accelerator shook his head a little. The cup he’d brought up to his lips had split in half just like the table, its contents sent flying into the air. Though he was Academy City’s most powerful esper, his only flaw was that he couldn’t use his powers until he flipped the switch on his electrode choker. The explosion had happened so suddenly that he couldn’t respond in time. So when the first cup of tea came flying at him, he avoided the liquid. But he didn’t need to for the second.
Chapter 9
41 min read